Monday, May 23, 2011

A jewel

I have found such comfort from these words written decades ago. These are snippets from Amy Carmichael's book, Candles in the Dark. Through some searching, I found some information regarding this little book:

"For the last twenty years of her life, until her death in 1951, Amy Carmichael was confined to her room, in constant pain. During this time she kept in touch with colleagues and friends through a flood of personal letters in which she shared the riches of her spiritual experience, offering encouragement, hope, consolation and occasionally reproof. Never intended for publication, these letters, written to specific individuals on particular occasions, have a wider message which may now for the first time be shared by readers of these selected extracts."

I have often found consolation through Amy's writings, and it has been no different in this season of life. Thank God for this precious sister who never tarried in her work for His Kingdom. It is marvelous how, years later, her words still speak life and hope; or, rather, it is the Spirit that spoke through her and has carried them across the world and time for them to be poured into the hearts of others.

I have just come upon this jewel (in a most uncomfortable setting, but a jewel all the same): "Know now that there shall fall unto the earth nothing of the word of the Lord" (2 Kings 10:10). I thought of one who is going through a bitter time - every possible arrow the archers can produce is being shot at that soul - and then I thought of you, and of your father and mother. Nothing of the word of the Lord spoken to you about your dearest shall fall unto the earth. Nothing they have ever known as His word to them shall fall.
Yes, I understand; how much easier it would be if one could bear pain for others - instead of them, I mean. I have often prayed that I might, for Col 1:24 seems to give ground for such a prayer, but never once has that joy been mine. So now I am learning to be content. Perhaps those of whom I am thinking specially would never have known Him as they know Him now if they had not suffered. Indeed it must be so. "I never knew the comfort of God as I know it now," one said to me yesterday.

Don't forget when you imagine, all but see and hear and desperately feel, your loved one's pain, there is one thing that eludes you. That is the grace that is being given, the Presence that is there. But well I know how hard it is to carry on just as if all were going smoothly at home.
Yes, He often trusts us to trust Him when it does not seem as if He were providing. I have been through this rough stretch of road and so I can understand and walk it with you; and, best of all, He can, and He is nearer than near. Give your father my sheet anchor again, Job 34:29: "When He giveth quietness, who then can make trouble?" It's such a victorious, "who"!
I think the Lord must find it difficult to teach us that here have we no continuing city. "This is not your rest"; I often think of that. We know it, but we don't find it easy to live as if it were true. More and more I feel that we are what the Bible says we are - strangers and pilgrims. And all the things that happen are meant to emphasize that. But the pilgrim's God is very close to you and your father through these days.


poetic_capture said...

Wonderful post! I've never read anything of hers, but now I think I definitely should.

Also, thank you so much for all the sweet comments you always leave on my blog! I really appreciate them. They always brighten my day!

Nolan said...

The truth is so much more comforting than our worries. Such a blessing for the LORD to send people into our lives to remind us of this.