Sensitiveness of the Believer – Charles Spurgeon

THE sensitive plant, as soon as it is touched, begins to fold up its leaves; touch it again, and the little branchlets droop, until at last it stands like the bare poles of a vessel, all its sail of leaf is furled, and it seems as if it would, if it could, shrink into nothing to avoid your hand. So should you be, so should I be, tender to the touch of sin, so as to say with the psalmist, “Horror has taken hold upon me because of the wicked that forsake your law.”