When I crawled into bed tonight, I was asking God why He's not talking to me. When Bill was sick, I often felt God speaking so clearly to me, but during this time of trouble, not so much. So tonight I woke up and remembered the words "He giveth more grace." I looked it up and here's the song I remember from childhood:
He giveth more grace as our burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength as our labors increase;
To added afflictions He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials he multiplies peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.
His love has no limits, His grace has no measure,
His power no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again.
Annie Flint
So I had to eat my words. He does speak--I just need to be quiet enough (asleep) to listen!
Jean
I cried out to God for help;
I cried out to God to hear me.
When I was in distress, I sought the Lord;
at night I stretched out untiring hands
and my soul refused to be comforted.
I remembered you, O God, and I groaned;
I mused, and my spirit grew faint.
You kept my eyes from closing;
I was too troubled to speak.
I thought about the former days,
the years of long ago;
I remembered my songs in the night. Psalm 77:1-6
3 comments:
Jean,
May God continue to give you "songs in the night"!
Marilyn
Jean, my heart is weary for you. I pray for your rest, and for His words to continue to speak to your heart. May He bless and keep your family, and, as always, praying for the miracle of a complete and utter healing of that little princess.
PSALM 139
David, to the chief musician,
spoke of how You search and how You know.
He spoke of You in heartfelt, holy symbols.
He spoke in symbols centuries ago.
Likewise, now to me in symbols,
speak his words to quiet my despair.
To tell me You are here at my downfalling.
To promise at my rising You'll be there.
Acquaint Thyself with me I pray.
Guide me in the path that I must trod.
Though every word my tongue doth speak Thou knowest,
yet I must still acquaint myself with God.
Whither shall I go from Spirit?
From Thy holy presence whither flee?
You touch me as my prayers ascend to heaven,
and here in concrete hell below I'm free.
Taking flight on wings of morning,
thought is found exempt from bars of steel.
Confined in chains and bussed to courtroom venues,
the truth that David spoke is there to heal.
Darkness cannot hide the ego,
shielding its pretense to be me.
The light reveals the fact that I'm Your offspring.
My substance, Lord, was never hid from Thee.
Unperfect yet in my own eyes,
the ego still my members favor.
However, since Your thoughts of me are precious,
thoughts of precious self are mine to savor.
Search my heart, O God, and know me.
Try my thoughts and see that they are good.
The ego makes no wicked way within me,
the foothold being gone whereon it stood.
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