Sunday, October 19, 2008

Spurgeon this evening

This month has been so full and I have much to share, but for now I'm just going to share Spurgeon...his words are so filled with truth. I LOVE the passage from Habakkuk that he ends with and the line directly after it, too. Hope it encourages you! "God, my maker, who giveth songs in the night." -- Job 35:10 Any man can sing in the day. When the cup is full, man drawsinspiration from it. When wealth rolls in abundance around him, any mancan praise the God who gives a plenteous harvest or sends home a loadedargosy. It is easy enough for an Aeolian harp to whisper music when thewinds blow-the difficulty is for music to swell forth when no wind isstirring. It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight;but he is skilful who sings when there is not a ray of light to readby-who sings from his heart. No man can make a song in the night ofhimself; he may attempt it, but he will find that a song in the nightmust be divinely inspired. Let all things go well, I can weave songs,fashioning them wherever I go out of the flowers that grow upon mypath; but put me in a desert, where no green thing grows, and wherewithshall I frame a hymn of praise to God? How shall a mortal man make acrown for the Lord where no jewels are? Let but this voice be clear,and this body full of health, and I can sing God's praise: silence mytongue, lay me upon the bed of languishing, and how shall I then chantGod's high praises, unless he himself give me the song? No, it is notin man's power to sing when all is adverse, unless an altar-coal shalltouch his lip. It was a divine song, which Habakkuk sang, when in thenight he said, "Although the fig-tree shall not blossom, neither shallfruit be in the vines; the labour of the olive shall fail, and thefields shall yield no meat; the flock shall be cut off from the fold,and there shall be no herd in the stalls: yet I will rejoice in theLord, I will joy in the God of my salvation." Then, since our Maker gives songs in the night, let us wait upon him for the music. O thouchief musician, let us not remain songless because affliction is uponus, but tune thou our lips to the melody of thanksgiving.

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