Dear Shepherdesses:
During this past year we read each morning some of the finest morning-watch readings ever compiled, from the book God's Amazing Grace. What an encouraging counselor the writings of Mrs. White are! I underlined our book as I found choice words of wisdom to which my heart especially responded. I would like to share with you some gems that have cheered me.
"Neither life nor death, height nor depth, can separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus; not because we hold Him so firmly, but because He holds us so fast. . . . His love is that of an elder brother; so long as we maintain our union with Him, no one can pluck us out of His hand," —Page 153.
Jesus consents to bear our burdens only when we trust Him. He is saying, " 'Come unto Me, all ye weary and heavy-laden; give Me your load; trust Me to do the work that it is impossible for the human agent to do.' Let us trust Him. Worry is blind and cannot discern the future. But Jesus sees the end from the be ginning, and in every difficulty He has His way prepared to bring relief. Abiding in Christ, we can do all things through Him who strengthens us." —Page 113.
From Christ's Object Lessons, page 403, the following is quoted: "The Christian who is such in his private life, in the daily surrender of self, in sincerity of purpose and purity of thought, in meekness under provocation, in faith and piety, in fidelity in that which is least, the one who in the home life represents the character of Christ—such a one may in the sight of God be more precious than even the world-renowned missionary or martyr."—Page 270.
Shouldn't this give us courage as we face the future? This year's morning-watch book is Elder Pierson's Faith Triumphant. We are sure you will be blessed as you follow the daily readings.
Happy New Year to each of you—wife, mother, grandmother, unmarried professional woman, secretary, teacher, nurse, or whatever you may be—as you work to hasten the coming of our Lord during the year ahead.
With love,
Kay
A Persian fable says: One day A wanderer found a lump of clay So redolent of sweet perfume Its odors scented all the room. "What art thou?" was his quick demand, "Art thou some gem from Samarkand, Or spikenard in this rude disguise, Or other costly merchandise?" "Nay; I am but a lump of clay."
"Then whence this wondrous perfume— I say!"
"Friend, if the secret I disclose, I have been dwelling with the rose." Sweet parable! and will not those Who love to dwell with Sharon's rose, Distil sweet odors all around, Though low and mean themselves are found? Dear Lord, abide with us that we May draw our perfume fresh from Thee.*
Figuratively speaking, we may be only lumps of clay here and now. But when Christ takes over, and His influence pervades our lives, those about us will begin to sense somewhat the sweetness and harmony of the Paradise soon to come. Yet, in order for us to "distil sweet odors all around" and to learn to sing heaven's songs while still abiding here, we need to develop the ability to sing amid the fires of affliction.
Perhaps we might receive some vibrant inspiration from contemplating the musical aspects of life here and hereafter. It is impossible for us to sense the enthrallment we will experience when we hear the angels sing, and the thrill of joining them in song is utterly in comprehensible. I think we all look forward to doing those things in heaven that we are unable to do here, and singing is one of the things I especially look forward to.
We are told that "those who in heaven join with the angelic choir in their anthem of praise must learn on earth the song of heaven, the keynote of which is thanks giving." —Testimonies, vol. 7, p. 244.
Mrs. Charles Spurgeon was a great sufferer for more than a quarter of a century. At the close of a dark and gloomy day, she lay resting on her couch as the night drew on. Although all was bright within her cozy room, some of the external darkness seemed to have penetrated her soul and obscured her spiritual vision. Vainly she tried to see the Hand which she knew held hers and guided her, but in sorrow, her heart asked, Why does my Lord permit lingering weakness to hinder the sweet service I long to give Him?
Her fretful question was quickly answered, but through a strange language. Yet no interpreter was needed.
For a while silence reigned in the little room, broken only by the crackling of the oak log burning in the fireplace. Suddenly she heard a sweet, soft sound, a little, clear musical note, like the tender trill of a robin beneath her window. She wondered what it could be, for surely no bird would be singing out there at this time of the year and night.
Again came the faint, plaintive notes, so sweet, so melodious, so mysterious. A friend sitting with Mrs. Spurgeon exclaimed: "It comes from the log on the fire!" Ah, she thought, when the fire of affliction draws songs of praise from us, then indeed we are purified and our God is glorified!
Perhaps some of us are like this old oak log cold, hard, insensible; we would give forth no melodious sounds were it not for the fire that kindles around us and re leases notes of trust in Him, and cheerful compliance with His will.
Singing in the fire! Yes, that is our preparation here if we are to sing with the angelic choir.
Following one of her visions, Ellen White reported:
"I have been shown the order, the perfect order, of heaven, and have been enraptured as I listened to the perfect music there. After coming out of vision, the singing here has sounded very harsh and discordant. I have seen companies of angels, who stood in a hollow square, every one having a harp of gold. At the end of the harp was an instrument to turn to set the harp or change the tunes. Their fingers did not sweep over the strings carelessly, but they touched different strings to produce different sounds.
"There is one angel who always leads, who first touches the harp and strikes the note, then all join in the rich, perfect music of heaven. It cannot be described. It is melody, heavenly, divine, while from every countenance beams the image of Jesus, shining with glory unspeakable." —Ibid., vol. 1, p. 146.
If that thrills you, add to it the words found in Zephaniah 3:17: "The Lord thy God in the midst of thee is mighty; he will save, he will rejoice over thee with joy; he will rest in his love, he will joy over thee with singing."
Imagine, God standing in the midst of the precious redeemed, rejoicing over them with singing. How could we let anything in this world overcome us en route to that glorious home?
Singing in the fire is our preparation for singing soon in the presence of God.
