Blessings (Laura Story) 

We pray for blessings, 

We pray for peace, 

Comfort for family, protection while we sleep. 

We pray for healing, for prosperity, 

We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering. 

All the while, You hear each spoken need, 

Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things. 
‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops

What if Your healing comes through tears, 

What if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You’re near. 

What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise? 
We pray for wisdom, 

Your voice to hear. 

And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near. 

We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love, 

As if every promise from Your Word is not enough. 

All the while, You hear each desperate plea

And long that we have faith to believe… 
‘Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops, 

What if Your healing comes through tears, 

What if a thousand sleepless nights

Are what it takes to know You’re near. 

And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise… 
When friends betray us, 

When darkness seems to win, 

We know that pain reminds this heart, 

That this is not, this is not our home. 

It’s not our home… 
What if my greatest disappointments

Or the achings of this life, 

Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy. 

And what if trials of this life, 

The rain, the storms, the hardest nights, 

Are Your mercies in disguise… 

Accepting Suffering

The faith of Job is astounding in view of how much less he knew of the love of God than we who know Him through the life and death of Jesus Christ. We have a whole Bible full of revelations about suffering. Job’s response was perhaps closer to capitulation than acceptance, but it was enough. God told his friends Job had spoken the truth about Him while they had not.

We have been shown the way of acceptance on every page of the life of Jesus. It sprang from love and from trust. He set his face like a flint toward Jerusalem. He took up the Cross of His own will. No one could take His life from Him. He deliberately laid it down. He calls us to take up our crosses. That is a different thing from capitulation or resignation. It is a glad and voluntary YES to the conditions we meet on our journey with Him, because these are the conditions He wants us to share with Him. Events are the sacraments of the Will of God – that is, they are visible signs of an invisible Reality. These provide the very place where we may learn to love and trust . Heaven waits for our response.

Elisabeth Elliot
(The Path of Loneliness)

The Cup of Suffering

Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me? (John 18:11)

To “drink the cup” was a greater thing than calming the seas or raising the dead. The prophets and apostles could do amazing miracles, but they did not always do the will of God and thereby suffered as a result. Doing God’s will and thus experiencing suffering is still the highest form of faith, and the most glorious Christian achievement.

Having your brightest aspirations as a young person forever crushed; bearing burdens daily that are always difficult, and never seeing relief; finding yourself worn down by poverty while simply desiring to do good for others and provide a comfortable living for those you love, to face the trauma of life alone; yet in all these, still being able to say through such a difficult school of discipline, “Shall I not drink the cup the Father has given me?” – this is faith at its highest, and spiritual success at its crowning point.

In order to have a sympathetic God, we must have a suffering Saviour, for true sympathy comes from understanding another’s hurt by suffering the same affliction. Therefore we cannot help others who suffer without paying a price ourselves, because afflictions are the cost we pay for our ability to sympathise. Those who wish to help others must first suffer. If we wish to rescue others, we must be willing to face the cross; experiencing the greatest happiness in life through ministering to others is impossible without drinking the cup Jesus drank and without submitting to the baptism He endured.

The most comforting of David’s psalms were squeezed from his life by suffering, and if Paul had not been given “a thorn in the flesh” (2 Cor 12:7), we would have missed much of the heartbeat of tenderness that resonates through so many of his letters.

If you have surrendered yourself to Christ, your present circumstances that seem to be pressing so hard against you are the perfect tool in the Father’s hand to chisel you into shape for eternity. So trust Him and never push away the instrument He is using, or you will miss the result of His work in your life.

Strange and difficult indeed
We may find it,
But the blessing that we need
Is behind it.

(SITD July 19)

When Words Fail

My heart broke at the sight of her shaven head. Where beautiful black hair was once her feminine adornment, a simple black hat now covered her head.

Lord, what just do I say?

Words are so feeble.

Just what do I say to bring comfort or hope, without sounding hypocritical or clueless about her suffering and pain?

I’m afraid of throwing spiritual clichés at her.

God, help.

What do you say to a woman who has just been sexually abused by her own father?

God, what???

I sometimes forget that you grieve and hurt more over the abuse and pain inflicted on your children than the victims or I do.

Had I remembered your tears at Bethany then maybe I would have understood.

God, help.

You have shown me hope and purpose even through this illness and heartbreak, how do I share this hope and life and peace You have given me?

You’ve got to help me.

For those who have suffered so much more than I have.

Lost a spouse.

Undergoing chemotherapy.

Losing a breast because of the ugly, ravaging disease called cancer.

Raising a child with special needs.

I am inadequate for I have not suffered in such a magnitude.

Your road to Calvary Lord, has to be the answer.

Lord, please.

Please be the answer to them today.

Mary’s Prayer

Mary’s Prayer

By Max Lucado

GOD. O Infant-God. Heaven’s fairest child. Conceived by the union of divine grace with our disgrace. Sleep well.

Sleep well. Bask in the coolness of this night bright with diamonds. Sleep well, for the heat of anger simmers nearby. Enjoy the silence of the crib, for the noise of confusion rumbles in your future. Savor the sweet safety of my arms, for a day is soon coming when I cannot protect you.

Rest well, tiny hands. For though you belong to a king, you will touch no satin, own no gold. You will grasp no pen, guide no brush. No, your tiny hands are reserved for works more precious:

To touch a leper’s open wound, to wipe a widow’s weary tear, to claw the ground of Gethsemane.

Your hands, so tiny, so white–clutched tonight in an infant’s fist. They aren’t destined to hold a scepter nor wave from a palace balcony. They are reserved instead for a Roman spike that will staple them to a Roman cross.

Sleep deeply, tiny eyes. Sleep while you can. For soon the blurriness will clear and you will see the mess we have made of your world.

You will see our nakedness, for we cannot hide.

You will see our selfishness, for we cannot give.

You will see our pain, for we cannot heal.

O eyes that will see hell’s darkest pit and witness her ugly prince… sleep, please sleep; sleep while you can.

Lie still, tiny mouth. Lie still, mouth from which eternity will speak.

Tiny tongue that will soon summon the dead, that will define grace, that will silence our foolishness.

Rosebud lips–upon which ride a starborn kiss of forgiveness to those who believe you, and of death to those who deny you–lie still.

And tiny feet cupped in the palm of my hand, rest. For many difficult steps lie ahead for you.

Do you taste the dust of the trails you will travel?

Do you feel the cold seawater upon which you will walk?

Do you wrench at the invasion of the nail you will bear?

Do you fear the steep descent down the spiral staircase into Satan’s domain?

Rest, tiny feet. Rest today so that tomorrow you might walk with power. Rest. For millions will follow in your steps.

And little heart … holy heart … pumping the blood of life through the universe: How many times will we break you?

You’ll be torn by the thorns of our accusations.

You’ll be ravaged by the cancer of our sin.

You’ll be crushed under the weight of your own sorrow.

And you’ll be pierced by the spear of our rejection.

Yet in that piercing, in that ultimate ripping of muscle and membrane, in that final rush of blood and water, you will find rest. Your hands will be freed, your eyes will see justice, your lips will smile, and your feet will carry you home.

And there you’ll rest again this time in the embrace of your Father.

‘Thou are my Fa…

‘Thou are my Father, and I am thy child; and thou, as a Father art tender and full of mercy.

‘I could not bear to see my child suffer as thou makest me suffer, and if I saw him tormented as I am now, I would do what I could to help him, and put my arms under him to sustain him.

‘Wilt thou hide thy face from me, my Father? Wilt thou still lay on a heavy hand, and not give me a smile from thy countenance?’

-Charles Spurgeon

His desperate prayer when he could no longer bear with the physical pain he was suffering.

You can read more here :- http://livingbyfaithblog.com/2012/03/16/how-spurgeon-saw-his-pain-and-depression/