p s a l m 4 6, v v. 4 - 7
There is a river whose streams shall make glad the city of God, the holy place of the tabernacle of the Most High. God is in the midst of her, she shall not be moved; god shall help her, just at the break of dawn. The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved; He uttered His voice, the earth melted.
The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge.
Selah.
from Spurgeon, Treasury of David:
Divine grace, like a smoothly flowing, fertilizing, full, and never failing river, brings refreshment and comfort to believers. This is the river of the water of life...[i]t assures the citizens of Zion that the Lord will unfailingly supply all their needs. The streams are not transient like Cherith, nor muddy like the Nile, nor furious like Kishon, nor treacherous like Job's deceitful brooks, nor worthless like those of Jericho. They are clear, cool, fresh, abundant, and gladdening...Jerusalem, which represents the church of God, is described as abundantly supplied with water. This means that in seasons of trial, all-sufficient grace will be given to enable us to endure to the end.
from cool dat! (don't expect Spurgeon's elloquence here!)
The parched and wasting circumstances of my trials enable me to appreciate more fully the refreshment taken from God's streams in the desert. Without the trials, in my hurry to get to the places I think I need to be, I might pass by God's quiet streams, leaving them untasted, and become all the poorer for it.
1 comment:
Oh, amen, AMEN! How desperately we need our trials to draw us back again and again to the CROSS. In our weakness He is made strong because we are forced to acknowledge our complete inability to succeed apart from HIM.
I am sitting here, just thinking of a bizillion trials whirling around in my head and how my spirit grieves as a spectator to the suffering. But because it is holy grief...I do not watch without hope; I do not look on in desperation; I pray and worship with a heavy heart and I celebrate more sweetly each blessing, even small. My disposition could not and would not be so, without His Hope and His Strength and His Sacrifice. Apart from Him, what do we have? With Him, we can cry out "Abba, Father, Have Mercy! Nevertheless, not my will but THINE!"
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