Freedom From Suffering

A child of God was once overwhelmed by the number of afflictions that seemed to target her. As she walked past a vineyard during the rich glow of autumn, she noticed its untrimmed appearance and the abundance of leaves still on the vines. The ground had been overtaken by a tangle of weeds and grass, and the entire place appeared totally unkempt. While she pondered the sight, the heavenly Gardener whispered such a precious message to her that she could not help but share it.

The message was this: “My dear child, are you questioning the number of trials in your life? Remember the vineyard and learn from it. The gardener stops pruning and trimming the vine or weeding the soil only when he expects nothing more from the vine during that season. He leaves it alone, because its fruitfulness is gone and further effort now would yield no profit. In the same way, freedom from suffering leads to uselessness. Do you now want me to stop pruning Your life? Shall I leave you alone?

Then her comforted heart cried, “No!”

~ Homera Homer-Dixon


It is the branch that bears the fruit,

That feels the knife,

To prune it for a larger growth,

A fuller life.

Though every budding twig be trimmed,

And every grace

Of swaying tendril, springing leaf,

May lose its place.

O you whose life of joy seems left,

With beauty shorn;

Whose aspirations lie in dust,

All bruised and torn,

Rejoice, though each desire, each dream,

Each hope of thine

Will fall and fade; it is the hand

Of Love Divine

That holds the knife, that cuts and breaks

With tenderest touch,

That you, whose life has borne some fruit,

Might now bear much.

~ Annie Johnson Flint


From Streams in the Desert, by L.B. Cowman – February 19th

Photo Credit: Jassy Onyae

Snowy Backyard Sights

Our area has received several inches of snow over the past few days, and the results have been quite lovely. I took these pictures after the first covering of the white crystals. The photos are of simple objects, but when blanketed in snow, they are somehow made more beautiful. 🙂

From the highest of heights to the depths of the sea
Creation’s revealing Your majesty
From the colors of fall to the fragrance of spring
Every creature unique in the song that it sings

Who has told every lightning bolt where it should go
Or seen heavenly storehouses laden with snow
Who imagined the sun and gives source to its light
Yet conceals it to bring us the coolness of night
None can fathom

Indescribable, uncontainable,
You placed the stars in the sky and You know them by name
You are amazing God
All powerful, untameable,
Awestruck we fall to our knees as we humbly proclaim
You are amazing God

~ from “Indescribable,” by Chris Tomlin

For the Glory of Your Name

A visitor at a school for the deaf was writing questions on the board for the children. Soon he wrote this sentence: “Why has God made me able to hear and speak, and made you deaf?”

The shocking sentence hit the children like a cruel slap on the face. They sat paralyzed, pondering the dreadful word “Why?” And then a little girl arose.

With her lip trembling and her eyes swimming with tears, she walked straight to the board. Picking up the chalk, she wrote with a steady hand these precious words: “Yes, Father, for this was your good pleasure” (Matthew 11:26). What a reply! It reaches up and claims an eternal truth upon which the most mature believer, and even the youngest child of God, may securely rest–the truth that God is your Father.

Can you state that truth with full assurance and faith? Once you do, your dove of faith will no longer wander the skies in restless flight but will settle forever in its eternal resting place of peace: your Father!

I still believe that a day of understanding will come for each of us, however far away it may be. We will understand as we see the tragedies that today darken and dampen the presence of heaven for us take their proper place in God’s great plan–a plan so overwhelming, magnificent, and joyful, we will laugh with wonder and delight. 

~ Arthur Christopher Bacon


Chance has not brought this ill to me;

It’s God’s own hand, so let it be,

For He sees what I cannot see.

There is a purpose for each pain,

And He one day will make it plain

That earthly loss is heavenly gain.

Like as a piece of tapestry

Viewed from the back appears to be

Only threads tangled hopelessly;

But in the front a picture fair

Rewards the worker for his care,

Proving his skill and patience rare.

You are the Workman, I the frame.

Lord, for the glory of Your Name,

Perfect You image on the same.

~ Author Unknown


Photo Credit: Liane Metzler