P
EOPLE
COMMEND
ME
for giving up a lifeof comfort and security in Europe forone of constant giving as a Christianvolunteer in Africa. “That’s so noble!” “Youmust be a saint!” “I could never do whatyou do.” Sometimes I wonder if these well-meaning people realize that I’m just asvulnerable to feelings of discouragementand frustration as they are. With so muchto do and so few others doing the work I’vebeen called to do, the task can be daunting.Recently I was preoccupied with problemswhen an old familiar song started playing inthe background. Eventually the lyrics brokethrough my melancholic introspection.
Morning has broken like the first morning;Blackbird has spoken like the first bird.Praise for the singing, praise for the morning,Praise for them, springing fresh from the Word.
I’m sure these lyrics have been inter-preted in many ways by the millions of people who have heard and sung themsince Eleanor Farjeon wrote them in 1930and Cat Stevens set them to a new tune in1970, but they stirred a fresh thought in me.
Imagine the first morning that God created—amorning of peace and hope, free from stress,frustration, and deadlines.
That sounds soamazing!
Then I was reminded of a promisefrom the Bible: “The Lord’s mercies are newevery morning” (Lamentations 3:22–23).The truth was, morning
had
broken likethe first morning. The first rays of sunlightover the horizon had greeted me with thatsame peace and hope, but it was up to meto savor it. Would I welcome it with praise?Would I stop to hear the blackbird’s song?The song concludes with this:
Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning,Born of the one light Eden saw play.Praise with elation, praise every morning,God’s re-creation of the new day.
My previous feelings of frustration anddiscouragement dissipated as the thoughthit home again.
Morning
had
broken! Itwas mine!
I looked at the beauty that sur-rounded me and realized that I was part of God’s beautiful new day!
B
Y
C. H. S
PURGEON
(1834–1892)
{ SUFFICIENCYMORNING HAS BROKEN }
B
Y
R
IMA
P
ARKER
T
HE
OTHER
EVENING
I was riding homeafter a heavy day’s work. I felt veryweary and depressed, when swiftly andsuddenly that text came to me, “My [Jesus’]grace is sufficient for thee” (2 Corinthians12:9 KJV).I said, “I should think it is, Lord,” andburst out laughing. It seemed to makeunbelief so absurd.It was as though some little fish, beingvery thirsty, was troubled about drink-ing the river dry, and Father Thames said,“Drink away, little fish, my stream is suf-ficient for thee.” Again, I imagined a man away up yonder,in a lofty mountain, saying to himself, “Ibreathe so many cubic feet of air everyyear, I fear I shall exhaust the oxygen inthe atmosphere.” But the earth might say,“Breathe away, O man, and fill thy lungs.My atmosphere is sufficient for thee.”Be great believers! Little faith will bringyour souls to Heaven, but great faith willbring Heaven to your souls.
ACTIVATED VOL 6, ISSUE 8
|
www.activated.org
3
Leave a Comment