A calm and thankful heart

I admire Anne Steele quite a lot. I may have mentioned her before, but she's worth mentioning again. Loved the Lord, lost her fiance to drowning the day before her wedding, devoted the rest of her life to assisting her father in ministry and writing beautiful hymns of surrender and devotion to God. Here's one of my favorites, a simple prayer:

Father, whate'er of earthly bliss
Thy sovereign will denies,
Accepted at Thy throne, let this,
My humble prayer, arise:

Give me a calm and thankful heart,
From every murmur free;
The blessing of Thy grace impart,
And make me live to Thee.

Let the sweet hope that Thou art mine
My life and death attend,
Thy presence through my journey shine,
And crown my journey's end.

This is my prayer, in this time as in all times. Let me be calm and thankful, blessed by Your blessings and fixed on Your hope. Walk me through this life until death, and be there to meet me in glory at the end of it all.

Sweet, sweet hymns

Over the past 9 months or so, thanks mostly to the influence of one person, I've developed a love for old hymns. So much theology, so much comfort, so much fellowship with the experiences of believers in days gone by-- I appreciate today's choruses for what they are, and I think they have their purpose, but there's just something about hymns.

God met me in hymns tonight. I was feeling a little overwhelmed with life, and especially with one situation. He prepared me for it in a beautiful way, and He has helped me to meet it with courage and faith in His faithfulness, but I am still human and prone to be overwhelmed from time to time. Tonight I was tired and discouraged and not feeling particularly inclined to continue on with the good fight, but:

Fear not, I am with thee, O be not dismayed,
for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid!
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.

When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace all-sufficient shall be thy supply.
The flames shall not hurt thee, I only design
thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.

The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose,
I will not, I will not desert to its foes.
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake.

Sweet comfort.

Deliverance

The women's Bible study group at my church is currently working its way through the book of Daniel, accompanied by Beth Moore's study of the same book. (I had never read/seen any of Beth Moore's stuff before this. I like her. She's a nut. She's also theologically sound.) In her exploration of the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego and the fiery furnace (which was before I was a part of this study, but she referred back to it today), she made this point:

When we, as God's people, face a trial, the outcome will be one of three possibilities. We can be A) delivered from the fire, B) delivered through the fire, or C) delivered by the fire into God's arms. What really struck me today was our misplaced priorities and our bizarre perspective on life.

Generally speaking, in most situations that could be defined as a trial, we would opt for choice A. God is glorified by His ability to keep us completely safe, and we don't have to deal with any pain or struggle. Win-win, right? B and C, we're much less excited about.

But stop and think about the other options! If Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego had been delivered from the fire ("Hey guys, I changed my mind, don't throw them in there after all..."), they wouldn't have found fellowship in the fire with one that "looks like a son of the gods" and they wouldn't have had the opportunity to stare, amazed, at their unharmed bodies, hair, and robes. They didn't even smell like smoke! What a miraculous affirmation of the truth upon which they had staked their lives!

Should we so eagerly seek immediate comfort in place of the opportunity to know the One who gives all comfort, even in the most dire of circumstances? And if the best experiences in this life are the ones where we come a little closer into His presence, shouldn't we, as Paul, long for the day when we will be delivered into His arms? Shouldn't we bless the trial that will make us ready for that day, and doubly bless the trial that will escort us there at last?