I am distinctly told that Christ, though He is on the Throne in His ascended glory, is also within me by the Holy Ghost. I confess I do not feel Him there. Often amid the assault of temptation or the fury of the storm that sweeps over the surface of my nature, I cannot detect His form or hear Him say, “It is I.” But I dare to believe He is there; not without me, but within; not as a transient sojourner for a night, but as a perpetual inmate; not altered by my changes for earnestness to lethargy, from the summer of love to the winter of despondency, but always and unchangeably the same. And I say again and again, “Jesus, Thou art here. I am not worthy that thou should abide under my roof, but Thou has come. Assert Thyself. Pull down all rule, and authority, and power. Come out of Thy secret chamber, and possess all that is within me, that it may bless Thy holy name.”
— F B Meyer
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