Doesn’ t God’s Word come to us like a soft rain shower , dispelling the fury of the flames? Isn’t it like fireproof armor , against which the heat is powerless? Then let afflictions come, for God has chosen me. Poverty , you may walk throu gh my door, but God is already in my house, and He has chosen me. Sickness, you may intrud e into my life, but I have a cure standing ready— God has chosen me. Whatever occurs in the valley of tears, I know He has chosen me.

Dear Christian, do not be afraid, for Jesus is with you. Through all your fiery trials, His presence is both your comfort and safety . He will never forsake those He has chosen for His own. “Do not be afraid, for I am with you” (Genesis 26:24) is His unfailing word of promise to His chosen ones who are experiencing “the furnace of af fliction.” C HARLES H. S PURGEON

Pain’ s furnace heat within me quivers, God’ s breath upon the flame does blow; And all my heart in anguish shivers And tr embles at the fiery glow; And yet I whisper , “As God will!” And in the hottest fir e hold still.

He comes and lays my heart, all heated, On the har d anvil, minded so Into His own fair shape to beat it With His gr eat hammer , blow on blow; And yet I whisper , “As God will!” And at His heaviest blows hold still.

He takes my softened heart and beats it; The sparks fly off at every blow; He turns it o’er and o’er and heats it, And lets it cool, and makes it glow; And yet I whisper , “As God will!” And in His mighty hand hold still.

Why should I complain? for the sorr ow Then only longer -lived would be; The end may come, and will tomorr ow, When God has done His work in me; So I say trusting, “As God will!” And, trusting to the end, hold still.

The burden of suffering seems to be a tombstone hung around our necks. Yet in reality it is simply the weight necessary to hold the diver down while he is searching for pearls. J ULIUS RICHTER

It was the same night Isaac went to Beersheba. Do you think this revelation from God was an accident? Do you think the time of it was an accident? Do you believe it could have happened any other night as well as this one? If so, you are grievously mistaken. Why did it come to Isaac the night he reached Beersheba? Because that was the night he reached rest. In his old land he had been tormented. There had been a whole series of petty quarrels over the ownership of insignificant wells. There is nothing like little worries, particularly when there are many of them. Because of these little worries, even after the strife was over, the place held bad memories for Isaac. Therefore he was determined to leave and seek a change of scenery. He pitched his tent far away from the place of his former strife. That very night the revelation came. God spoke to him when there was no inner storm. He could not speak to Isaac when his mind was troubled. God’s voice demands the silence of the soul. Only in the quiet of the spirit could Isaac hear the garments of his God brush by him. His still night became his shining night.

My soul, have you pondered these words: “Be still, and know” (Psalm 46:10)? In the hour of distress, you cannot hear the answer to your prayers. How often has the answer seemed to come much later! The heart heard no reply during the moment of its crying, its thunder, its earthquake, and its fire. But once the crying stopped, once the stillness came, once your hand refrained from knocking on the iron gate, and once concern for other lives broke through the tragedy of your own life, the long-awaited reply appeared. You must rest, O soul, to receive your heart’s desire. Slow the beating of your heart over concerns for your personal care. Place the storm of your individual troubles on God’s altar of everyday trials, and the same night, the Lord will appear to you. His rainbow will extend across the subsiding flood, and in your stillness you will hear the everlasting music.

GEORGE MATHESON

Tread in solitude your pathway, Quiet heart and undismayed. You will know things strange, mysterious, Which to you no voice has said. While the crowd of petty hustlers Grasps at vain and meager things, You will see a great world rising Where soft sacred music rings.

Leave the dusty road to others, Spotless keep your soul and bright, As the radiant ocean’s surface When the sun is taking flight.

FROM THE GERMAN OF V. SCHOFFEL