The Lost Day by J. R. Miller

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Nov 5, 1914

The Lost Day

By J. R. Miller

WHEN the last hour of youth is gone, with its opportunities for preparation neglected and unimproved, there is nothing that can be done to repair the harm. “Some things God gives often. The seasons return again and again, and the flowers change with the months; but youth comes twice to none.” Thus each period of life has its own closing, its last hour, in which work is ended, whether well done or neglected. Indeed, we may say the same of each day: its end is the closing of a definite season through which we can never pass again.

We may think of each single day as a miniature life. It comes to us new; it goes from us finished. There are three hundred and sixty-five days in a year. The only way to have a well-finished year is to finish the tasks and duties of each day as it passes. A marred or a lost day anywhere along the years may lead to loss or even sore misfortune afterward.—J. R. Miller.