So Much to Share, So Little Time.

The past year has been so very full.  Quite honestly, a quick share on Facebook has been easy to zip off when anything of substance which would require deeper reflection and more careful treatment has been neglected.  There has been much of substance in our circumstances in the past many months: much joy, and much pain.  In that neglect, perhaps some of the reflection, whether in written form or not, has also slipped to the wayside.  Perhaps,... maybe not.

I have at my bedside a small red volume which I found in a used book store shortly after we moved here.  The title is Streams in the Desert, and it is a daily devotional, compiled by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman and published in 1925.  I don't read it every day, such regularity of habit is foreign to my nature.  I did, however, pick it back up the other night and read several day's worth of passages.  They seemed to be speaking right to my heart, as if the Lord knew precisely what I needed to hear, which I trust that He does. and were a balm to my soul.  One passage followed by a poem drew me particularly in, and I'd like to share it here.

The way to peace and victory is to accept every circumstance, every trial, straight from the hand of a loving Father; and to live up in the heavenly places, above the clouds, in the very presence of the Throne, and to look down from the Glory upon our environment as lovingly and divinely appointed.

I prayed for strength, and then I lost awhileAll sense of nearness, human and divine;The love I leaned on failed and pierced my heart,The hands I clung to loosed themselves from mine;But while I swayed, weak trembling, and alone,The everlasting arms upheld my own.

I prayed for light; the sun went down in clouds,The moon was darkened by a misty doubt,The stars of heaven were dimmed by earthly fears,And all my little candle flames burned out;But while I sat in shadow, wrapped in night,The face of Christ made all the darkness bright.

I prayed for peace, and dreamed of restful ease,A slumber free from pain, a hushed repose;Above my head the skies were black with storm,And fiercer grew the onslaught of my foes;But while the battle raged, and wild winds blew,I heard His voice and perfect peace I knew.

I thank you, Lord, You were too wise to heedMy feeble prayers, and answer as I sought,Since these rich gifts Your bounty has bestowedHave brought me more than all I asked or thought;Giver of good, so answer each requestWith your own giving, better than my best~Annie Johnson Flint

The Lord has continued, as He ever has without fail, to give us better than our best.

I will share the substance or the Lord's good, wise, and better gifts soon.