Season of Mists Where showers fall most, there the grass is greenest. I suppose the fogs and mists of Ireland are what make it “the Emerald Isle.” And whenever you find great fogs of trouble, and mists of sorrow, you always find emerald green hearts that are full of the beautiful verdure of the comfort and love of God. The sun has not been extinguished, even though the clouds have hidden it. And when God hides His face, He has not forgotten you. He is but waiting a little while to make you love Him better; and when He comes, you will have joy in the Lord. —C. H. Spurgeon
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