On Letting Go

Elisabeth Elliot wrote in a book of hers, "When the will of God crosses the will of man, one of them must die." Is it our way that is wiser, higher, kinder than our Creator's? It never can be so.
So many times I think something would bring me joy and delight, and yet, the Lord very firmly closes that door. I don't pretend to know the reasons, or understand His ways, but I do know that whatever the Lord does is right... and can only be in faithfulness, in goodness, in kindness.

Reading this week, I came across this short poem. There's so much meaning packed into that simple line: "You never did let go."

As children bring their broken toys,
With tears, for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God
Because He is my Friend.
But then, instead of leaving Him
In peace, to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back and cried,
"How can You be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "What could I do?
You never did let go."

—Author Unknown

His Way is Perfect

When my way seems dark and drear, and the future I don't know
My heart feels so empty as the tears unending flow
When my heart breaks with sorrow and a tempest fills my soul
This one thing I know for sure: My God is in control.

His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Though I don't understand His wise and loving plan
His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Take my life and make a vessel purified
God makes no mistakes— His way is best.

When the toils of life are come and my heart is worn with care,
I faint 'neath the burden of a cross I cannot bear.
When the joy has departed from my sorrow-stricken soul,
This one thing I know for sure: my God is in control.

His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Though I don't understand His wise and loving plan
His way is perfect; His way is perfect
Take my life and make a vessel purified
God makes no mistakes— His way is best.

—Betsy Kistler

What the Almighty Can Do

Just one of the songs that have been on my heart lately – so good, and so helpful at putting my focus back into perspective!

Praise to the Lord, who o'er all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?

Praise to the Lord, who hath fearfully, wondrously, made thee;
Given thee life, and, with loving hand, guided and stayed thee;
How oft in grief hath He not brought thee relief?
Wings of His mercy did shade thee.

Praise to the Lord, who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee;
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
When, in His love, He befriends thee.

Praise to the Lord, who, when tempests their warfare are waging,
Who, when the elements madly around thee are raging,
Biddeth them cease, turneth their fury to peace,
Whirlwinds and waters assuaging.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him;
Let the Amen sound from His people again,
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

—Joachim Neander; translation by Catherine Winkworth

Wherever you are in your life right now, take heart and press on... for He is GOOD, and His way is perfect.

The Sacrifice

When I saw this on a friend's blog, I knew it was far too good not to pass on. It struck a chord in my heart, and I hope it may inspire someone else as well.

Laid on Thine alter, O my Lord divine,
Accept my gift this day, for Jesus' sake,
I have no jewels to adorn Thy shrine,
Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make;
But here I bring within my trembling hands,
This will of mine, a thing that seemeth small,
Yet Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand
How when I yield Thee this, I yield my all.

Hidden therein Thy searching gaze can see
Struggles of passion, visions of delight,
All that I have, or am, or fain would be,
Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings infinite;
It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed with sighs,
Clenched in my grasp, till beauty hath it none;
Now from Thy footstool, where it vanquished lies,
The prayer ascendeth, "May Thy will be done."

Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail,
And merge it so into Thine own will, that e'en
If in some desperate hour my cries prevail,
And Thou give back my gift, it may have been
So changed, so purified, so fair have grown,
So one with Thee, so filled with love divine,
I may not know or feel it as by own,
But gaining back my will, may find it Thine.

—My Sacrifice, C. T. Russell

Springs in the Wildernsss

I was listening to a message online titled Surviving the Desert, by Nancy Leigh DeMoss (a Christian speaker for women) of Revive Our Hearts Radio. A friend directed me to the message, and, since it was less than 25 minutes long, I listened to it right away!

I've appreciated what I've heard/read by Nancy Leigh DeMoss, and this message was no exception. In it, she offers Biblical advice so you can not only survive the desert experiences, but actually thrive in them!

If you have a few minutes, I'd recommend you listen to it yourself, even if you don't feel you are going through a "desert time" in your life. If you don't have the time now, perhaps bookmark it and listen to/read it a little later!

When the poor and needy seek water,
and there is none, and their tongue faileth for thirst,
I the LORD will hear them,
I the God of Israel will not forsake them.

I will open rivers in high places,
and fountains in the midst of the valleys:
I will make the wilderness a pool of water,
and the dry land springs of water.

That they may see, and know,
and consider, and understand together,
that the hand of the LORD hath done this,
and the Holy One of Israel hath created it.

(Isaiah 41:17-18, 20)

The Master Weaver's Plan

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me
I may not choose the colours –
He knows what they should be
For He can view the pattern
Upon the upper side
While I can see it only
From this, the underside.

Sometimes He weaveth sorrow,
Which seemeth strange to me;
But I will trust His judgement,
And work on faithfully;
'Tis He who fills the shuttle,
And He knows what is best,
So I shall weave in earnest,
Leaving to Him the rest.

Not 'til the loom is silent,
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why;
The dark threads are as needed,
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

—Author Unknown

This Is What It Means...

Something that's been on my heart lately...

Letting go of cherished dreams,
Laying my will at the cross,
Giving every hope to God,
Clinging tighter through each loss;
This is what it means to die;
This is what it means to give
Heart, and soul, and mind to Him,
Fully yielded life to live.

All I lived for, all I loved,
All my passions, goals, and plans,
Each ambition, wish, desire,
I must leave within His hands.
This is what it means to die;
This is what it means to trust
Life and future to my Lord;
All I know is that I must.

Giving up my stubborn will,
Losing it within His own
Rooting up so painfully
All the hopes and dreams I'd sown;
This is what it means to die;
This is what it takes to grow;
Though He slay me, I will praise—
I can trust His heart, I know.

Trusting Him for every day,
Following where'er He leads,
Loving Him with heart and soul,
Knowing He'll meet every need;
This is what it means to live;
This is what it means to rest
Confident His faithful hand
Only giveth what is best.

"And Jesus answered them, saying, The hour is come, that the Son of man should be glorified. Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal." (John 12:23-25)

I Will Tell My Griefs to Him

All my griefs by Him are ordered
Needful is each one for me,
Every tear by Him is counted,
One too much there cannot be;
And if when they fall so thickly
I can own His way is right,
Then each bitter tear of anguish
Precious is in Jesus' sight.

For too well my Saviour loved me
To allow my life to be
One long, calm, unbroken summer,
One unruffled, stormless sea;
He would have me fondly nestling
Closer to His loving breast,
He would have that world seem brighter
Where alone is perfect rest.

Though His wise and loving purpose,
I cannot yet clearly see,
I believe with faith unshaken,
All will work for good to me;
Therefore when my way is gloomy,
And my eyes with tears are dim,
I will go to God my Father,
I will tell my griefs to Him!

—Author Unknown