“The Lord will perfect that which concerneth me” (Ps. 138:8).

There is a Divine mystery in suffering, a strange and supernatural power in it, which has never been fathomed by the human reason. There never has been known great saintliness of soul which did not pass through great suffering. When the suffering soul reaches a calm sweet carelessness, when it can inwardly smile at its own suffering, and does not even ask God to deliver it from suffering, then it has wrought its blessed ministry; then patience has its perfect work; then the crucifixion begins to weave itself into a crown.
 
It is in this state of the perfection of suffering that the Holy Spirit works many marvelous things in our souls. In such a condition, our whole being lies perfectly still under the hand of God; every faculty of the mind and will and heart are at last subdued; a quietness of eternity settles down into the whole being; the tongue grows still, and has but few words to say; it stops asking God questions; it stops crying, “Why hast thou forsaken me ?”

The imagination stops building air castles, or running off on foolish lines; the reason is tame and gentle; the choices are annihilated; it has no choice in anything but the purpose of God. The affections are weaned from all creatures and all things; it is so dead that nothing can hurt it, nothing can offend it, nothing can hinder it, nothing can get in its way; for, let the circumstances be what they may, it seeks only for God and His will, and it feels assured that God is making everything in the universe, good or bad, past or present, work together for its good.

Oh, the blessedness of being absolutely conquered! of losing our own strength, and wisdom, and plans, and desires, and being where every atom of our nature is like placid Galilee under the omnipotent feet of our Jesus. –Soul Food

The great thing is to suffer without being discouraged. –Fenelon

“The heart that serves, and loves, and clings,
Hears everywhere the rush of angel wings.”

(From Charles E Cowman Devotionals – Streams in the Desert) 

“Thou hast enlarged me when I was in distress” (Ps. 4:1).

This is one of the grandest testimonies ever given by man to the moral government of God. It is not a man’s thanksgiving that he has been set free from suffering. It is a thanksgiving that he has been set free through suffering: “Thou hast enlarged me when I was in distress.” He declares the sorrows of life to have been themselves the source of life’s enlargement.
 
And have not you and I a thousand times felt this to be true? It is written of Joseph in the dungeon that “the iron entered into his soul.” We all feel that what Joseph needed for his soul was just the iron. He had seen only the glitter of the gold. He had been rejoicing in youthful dreams; and dreaming hardens the heart. He who sheds tears over a romance will not be most apt to help reality; real sorrow will be too unpoetic for him. We need the iron to enlarge our nature. The gold is but a vision; the iron is an experience. The chain which unites me to humanity must be an iron chain. That touch of nature which makes the world akin is not joy, but sorrow; gold is partial, but iron is universal.

My soul, if thou wouldst be enlarged into human sympathy, thou must be narrowed into limits of human suffering. Joseph’s dungeon is the road to Joseph’s throne. Thou canst not lift the iron load of thy brother if the iron hath not entered into thee. It is thy limit that is thine enlargement. It is the shadows of thy life that are the real fulfillment of thy dreams of glory. Murmur not at the shadows; they are better revelations than thy dreams. Say not that the shades of the prison-house have fettered thee; thy fetters are wings–wings of flight into the bosom of humanity. The door of thy prison-house is a door into the heart of the universe. God has enlarged thee by the binding of sorrow’s chain.–George Matheson

If Joseph had not been Egypt’s prisoner, he had never been Egypt’s governor. The iron chain about his feet ushered in the golden chain about his neck.–Selected

(From Charles E Cowman Devotionals – Streams in the Desert)

“Through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God” (Acts 14:22.).

The best things of life come out of wounding. Wheat is crushed before it becomes bread. Incense must be cast upon the fire before its odors are set free. The ground must be broken with the sharp plough before it is ready to receive the seed. It is the broken heart that pleases God. The sweetest joys in life are the fruits of sorrow. Human nature seems to need suffering to fit it for being a blessing to the world.

“Beside my cottage door it grows,
The loveliest, daintiest flower that blows,
A sweetbriar rose.

“At dewy morn or twilight’s close,
The rarest perfume from it flows,
This strange wild rose.

“But when the rain-drops on it beat,
Ah, then, its odors grow more sweet,
About my feet.

“Ofttimes with loving tenderness,
Its soft green leaves I gently press,
In sweet caress.

“A still more wondrous fragrance flows
The more my fingers close
And crush the rose.

“Dear Lord, oh, let my life be so
Its perfume when tempests blow,
The sweeter flow.

“And should it be Thy blessed will,
With crushing grief my soul to fill,
Press harder still.

“And while its dying fragrance flows
I’ll whisper low, ‘He loves and knows
His crushed briar rose.’”

If you aspire to be a son of consolation; if you would partake of the priestly gift of sympathy; if you would pour something beyond commonplace consolation into a tempted heart; if you would pass through the intercourse of daily life with the delicate tact that never inflicts pain; you must be content to pay the price of a costly education–like Him, you must suffer.–F. W. Robertson

(From Charles E Cowman Devotionals – Streams in the Desert)

“When he had heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was” (John 11:6).

In the forefront of this marvelous chapter stands the affirmation, “Jesus loved Martha, and her sister, and Lazarus,” as if to teach us that at the very heart and foundation of all God’s dealings with us, however dark and mysterious they may be, we must dare to believe in and assert the infinite, unmerited, and unchanging love of God.  Love permits pain.  The sisters never doubted that He would speed at all hazards and stay their brother from death, but, “When he had heard therefore that he was sick, he abode two days still in the same place where he was.”
 
What a startling “therefore”!  He abstained from going, not because He did not love them, but because He did love them.  His love alone kept Him back from hasting at once to the dear and stricken home.  Anything less than infinite love must have rushed instantly to the relief of those loved and troubled hearts, to stay their grief and to have the luxury of wiping and stanching their tears and causing sorrow and sighing to flee away.  Divine love could alone hold back the impetuosity of the Savior’s tender-heartedness until the Angel of Pain had done her work.

Who can estimate how much we owe to suffering and pain?  But for them we should have little scope for many of the chief virtues of the Christian life.  Where were faith, without trial to test it; or patience, with nothing to bear; or experience, without tribulation to develop it?–Selected

“Loved! then the way will not be drear;
For One we know is ever near,
Proving it to our hearts so clear
That we are loved.

“Loved when our sky is clouded o’er,
And days of sorrow press us sore;
Still we will trust Him evermore,
For we are loved.

“Time, that affects all things below,
Can never change the love He’ll show;
The heart of Christ with love will flow,
And we are loved.”

(From Charles E Cowman Devotionals – Streams in the Desert)