“Thou, Lord, art the Father of music,
Sweet sounds are a whisper from thee;
Thou hast made thy creation all anthems
Though it singeth them all silently.”
Some people think that rests in life are wasted time. They suppose that every moment should have its work, its activity, its gain, its record of good done. There is a sense in which this is true. Time is made up of golden minutes, not one of which we should suffer to be lost. The Master said that for every idle word that men speak they must give account. This can be no less true of idle minutes or hours. We are to be judged not only by the things we do but by the things we leave undone. Neglect of a duty is a sin. To pass by one who needs cheer or help, not giving him what he needs, when it is in our power to minister to him, is to sin against him.
Very strong, therefore, is the pressure of obligation to fill every moment with faithful duty doing. No doubt there are rests that leave blanks in the records and thus become blemishes, marrings, and faults. There is a story of one who always carried seeds in his pocket and when he found a bare spot, planted some of them that the place might become beautiful. So we should put into every fragment of time some seed that will make the hour or minute a bearer of blessing to other lives. We cannot afford to let a moment go unfilled.
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