​July 26

To him that overcometh will I give … a white stone, and in the stone a new name written, which no man knoweth saving him that receiveth it — Rev. 2:17.
 
The overcomers must all be proven to be such as would sacrifice every other thing for the Lord; such as would sacrifice the love and fellowship and approval, if necessary, of every other being, in order to retain the love and favor of the Lord. We believe that this test is coming daily closer and closer to the Lord's consecrated people, and it behooves every one of us to remember that this is one of the elements of our trial, and to set our affections on the spiritual things accordingly, and to mortify or deaden all such affections toward earthly beings and things as would bring these into competition with our Lord in our affections, service, etc.—Z '99, 140 (R 2479).
 
The overcomer is one who conquers sin, error, selfishness and worldliness. These are arrayed against him by Satan, the world and the flesh. Such indeed will be made living stones in the temple of God, and will receive the Divine nature, a nature so grand that none but its recipients can fully understand or appreciate it—P '34, 95.
 
Parallel passages: Psa. 73:24; Hos. 12:6; Matt. 24:13; John 8:31; 10:28; Acts 11:23; Rom. 2:6, 7; 8:30-39; 1 Cor. 16:13; Gal. 6:9; Col. 1:10, 22, 23; Heb. 2:1; 3:6, 14; 10:23, 35, 36; 12:1-15; Jas. 1:4, 12; 1 Pet. 1:4-8; 2 Pet. 1:10, 11; Rev. 2:7, 10, 11, 25-28; 3:5, 11.

Hymns: 272, 21, 27, 32, 58, 72, 78.
Poems of Dawn, 298: How Will You Die?
Tower Reading: Z '12, 315 (R 5113).

Questions: Have I been overcoming this week? How? In what respects? With what results?

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HOW WILL YOU DIE?

WILL you tackle that trouble that came your way
With a stalwart heart and cheerful?
Or hide your face from the light of day
With a craven heart and fearful?
O, a trouble's a ton, or a trouble's an ounce,
Or a trouble is what you make it,
And it isn't the fact that you're hurt that counts,
But only, How will you take it?

You're beaten to earth? Well, what of that?
Come up with a smiling face;
It's nothing against you that you fell down flat,
But to lie there—that's disgrace.
The harder you're thrown, the higher you bounce,
Your Physician will make you whole.
You fell seven times? That's not what counts— ​
Press on to your promised goal!

The battle is hard, severe the cross?
And others cry, "Turn back"?
Ah, soldier true, count all else loss,
And nothing you will lack.
And as your courage higher mounts
Your foes from you will fly;
You'll die, of course—that's not what counts,
But only, How will you die?

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