Psalms 30:5

There is a joy that is attained and another joy that is given. The first joy needs things to make it joy—congenial circumstances, attentive friends; the second joy joys because it is filled with a bubbling spring of internal and eternal gladness—a gladness because it is always in God, and God is always in it. It glows and grows under all circumstances—it sings because it is a song.

It sings after prayer . “Ask and you will receive, and your joy will be complete” (John 16:24). This implies that there must have been a need, a place to fill. As we believe and receive, the song sings!

There be many that say, Who will shew us any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us.

I will sing of thy power; yea I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning; for thou hast been my defence and refuge in the day of my trouble.

No man should be moved by these afflictions: for yourselves know that we are appointed thereunto.

For verily, when we were with you, we told you before that we should suffer tribulation.

At my father’s house in the country, there is a little closet near the chimney, where we keep the canes, or walking sticks, of several generations of our family. During my visits to the old house, as my father and I are going out for a walk, we often go to the cane closet and pick out our sticks to suit the occasion. As we have done this, I have frequently been reminded that the Word of God is a staff.

During the war, when we were experiencing a time of discouragement and impending danger, the verse “He will have no fear of bad news; his heart is steadfast, trusting in the LORD” (Psalm 112:7 WNT) was a staff to walk with on many dark days.

There is a limit to our affliction. God sends it and then removes it. Do you complain, saying , “When will this end?” May we quietly wait and patiently endure the will of the Lord till He comes. Our Father takes away the rod when His purpose in using it is fully accomplished.

If the affliction is sent to test us so that our words would glorify God, it will only end once He has caused us to testify to His praise and honor . In fact, we would not want the difficulty to depart until God has removed from us all the honor we can yield to Him.

Yes, we shall come to this if we are believers. Sorrow shall cease, and tears shall be wiped away. This is the world of weeping, but it passes away. There shall be a new heaven and a new earth, so says the first verse of this chapter; and therefore there will be nothing to weep over concerning the Fall and its consequent miseries. Read the second verse and note how it speaks of the bride and her marriage. The Lamb's wedding is a time for boundless pleasure, and tears would be out of place. The third verse says that God Himself will dwell among men; and surely at His right hand there are pleasures forevermore, and tears can no longer flow.

What will our state be when there will be no more sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain? This will be more glorious than we can as yet imagine. O eyes that are red with weeping, cease your scalding flow, for in a little while ye shall know no more tears! None can wipe tears away like the God of love, but He is coming to do it. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." Come, Lord, and tarry not; for now both men and women must weep!

It was “very early in the morning” (Luke 24:1), “while it was still dark” (John 20:1), that Jesus rose from the dead. Only the morning star, not the sun, shone down upon His tomb as it opened. Jerusalem’s shadows had not yet retreated, and its citizens were still asleep. Yes, it was still night, during the hours of darkness and sleep, when He arose, but His rising did not break the slumbering of the city.

And it will be during the darkness of the early morning, while only the morning star is shining, that Christ’s body—His church—will arise. Like Him, His saints will awake while the children of the night and darkness are still sleeping their slumber of death. Upon rising, the saints will disturb no one, and the world will not hear the voice that summons them. As quietly as Jesus has laid them to rest—each in their own silent grave, like children held in the arms of their mothers—He will just as quietly and gently awake them when the hour arrives. To each will come the life-giving words, “let those who dwell in the dust, wake up and shout for joy” (Isaiah 26:19). Into their graves the earliest ray of glory will find its way. The saints will soak up the first light of morning, while the clouds of the eastern sky will give only the faintest hints of the uprising. The gentle fragrance of the morning, along with its soothing stillness, invigorating freshness, sweet loneliness, and quiet purity—all so solemn and yet so full of hope—will be theirs.

A moment under our Father's anger seems very long, and yet it is but a moment after all. If we grieve His Spirit, we cannot look for His smile; but He is a God ready to pardon, and He soon puts aside all remembrance of our faults. When we faint and are ready to die because of His frown, His favor puts new life into us.

This verse has another note of the semi-quaver kind. Our weeping night soon turns into joyous day. Brevity is the mark of mercy in the hour of the chastisement of believers. The Lord loves not to use the rod on His chosen; He gives a blow or two, and all is over; yea, and the life and the joy, which follow the anger and the weeping, more than make amends for the salutary sorrow.

The question is often asked, “Why is human life drenched in so much blood and soaked with so many tears?” The answer is found in the word “achieving,” for these “momentary troubles are achieving for us” something very precious. They are teaching us not only the way to victory but, better still, the law of victory—there is a reward for every sorrow, and the sorrow itself produces the reward.

It is the very truth expressed in this dear old hymn, written by Sarah Adams in 1840: Nearer my God to Thee, nearer to Thee, E’en though it be a cross that raiseth me.