Saturday, May 28, 2011

from streams in the desert

"blessed are they that mourn." stars shine brightest in the long dark night of winter. the gentians show their fairest bloom amid almost inaccessible heights of snow and ice.

god's promises seem to wait for the pressure of pain to trample out their richest juice as in a wine-press. only those who have sorrowed know how tender is the "man of sorrows."

thou hast but little sunshine, but thy long glooms are wisely appointed thee; for perhaps a stretch of summer weather would have made thee as a parched land and barren wilderness. thy lord knows best, and he has the clouds and the sun at his disposal.

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