Praise in the Midst of Trouble

Let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually – Heb 13:15

A city missionary, stumbling through the dirt of a dark entry, heard a voice say, “Who’s there, Honey?” Striking a match, he caught a vision of earthly want and suffering, of saintly trust and peace, “cut in ebony”—calm, appealing eyes set amid the wrinkles of a pinched, black face that lay on a tattered bed. It was a bitter night in February, and she had no fire, no fuel, no light. She had had no supper, no dinner, no breakfast. She seemed to have nothing at all but rheumatism and faith in God. One could not well be more completely exiled from all pleasantness of circumstances, yet the favorite song of this old creature ran:

“Nobody knows de trouble I see, 
Nobody knows but Jesus; 
Nobody knows de trouble I see— 
Sing Glory Hallelu!

“Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down, 
Sometimes I’m level on the groun’, 
Sometimes the glory shines aroun’
Sing Glory Hallelu!”

And so it went on: “Nobody knows de work I does, Nobody knows de griefs I has,” the constant refrain being the “Glory Hallelu!” until the last verse rose:

“Nobody knows de joys I has,
Nobody knows but Jesus!”

“Troubled on every side, yet not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.” It takes great Bible words to tell the cheer of that old negro auntie.

Remember Luther on his sick-bed. Between his groans he managed to preach on this wise: “These pains and trouble here are like the type which the printers set; as they look now, we have to read them backwards, and they seem to have no sense or meaning in them; but up yonder, when the Lord God prints us off in the life to come, we shall find they make brave reading.” Only we do not need to wait till then. Remember Paul walking the hurricane deck amid a boiling sea, bidding the frightened crew “Be of good cheer,” Luther, the old negro auntie—all of them human sun-flowers. —Wm. G. Garnett

Hidden Workers
John did no miracle: but all things that John spake of this man were true – John 10:41

You may be very discontented with yourself. You are no genius, have no brilliant gifts, and are inconspicuous for any special faculty. Mediocrity is the law of your existence. Your days are remarkable for nothing but sameness and insipidity. Yet you may live a great life.

John did no miracle, but Jesus said that among those born of women there had not appeared a greater than he.

John’s main business was to bear witness to the Light, and this may be yours and mine. John was content to be only a voice, if men would think of Christ.

Be willing to be only a voice, heard but not seen; a mirror whose surface is lost to view, because it reflects the dazzling glory of the sun; a breeze that springs up just before daylight, and says, “The dawn! the dawn!” and then dies away.

Do the commonest and smallest things as beneath His eye. If you must live with uncongenial people, set to their conquest by love. If you have made a great mistake in your life, do not let it becloud all of it; but, locking the secret in your breast, compel it to yield strength and sweetness.

We are doing more good than we know, sowing seeds, starting streamlets, giving men true thoughts of Christ, to which they will refer one day as the first things that started them thinking of Him; and, of my part, I shall be satisfied if no great mausoleum is raised over my grave, but that simple souls shall gather there when I am gone, and say,

“He was a good man; he wrought no miracles, but he spake words about Christ, which led me to know Him for myself.” —George Matheson

“THY HIDDEN ONES” (Psa. 83:3)

“Thick green leaves from the soft brown earth,
Happy springtime hath called them forth;
First faint promise of summer bloom
Breathes from the fragrant, sweet perfume,
Under the leaves.

“Lift them! what marvelous beauty lies
Hidden beneath, from our thoughtless eyes!
Mayflowers, rosy or purest white,
Lift their cups to the sudden light,
Under the leaves.

“Are there no lives whose holy deeds—
Seen by no eye save His who reads
Motive and action—in silence grow
Into rare beauty, and bud and blow
Under the leaves?

“Fair white flowers of faith and trust,
Springing from spirits bruised and crushed;
Blossoms of love, rose-tinted and bright,
Touched and painted with Heaven’s own light
Under the leaves.

“Full fresh clusters of duty borne,
Fairest of all in that shadow grown;
Wondrous the fragrance that sweet and rare
Comes from the flower-cups hidden there
Under the leaves.

“Though unseen by our vision dim,
Bud and blossom are known to Him;
Wait we content for His heavenly ray—
Wait till our Master Himself one day
Lifteth the leaves.”

“God calls many of His most valued workers from the unknown multitude” (Luke 14:23).

Streams in the Desert

1 O for an overcoming faith
To cheer my dying hours,
To triumph o'er the monster Death,
And all his frightful powers.

2 Joyful with all the strength I have
My quivering lips should sing,
"Where is thy boasted victory, Grave?
And where the monster's sting?"

3 If sin be pardon'd I'm secure,
Death hath no sting beside;
The law gives sin its damning power,
But Christ, my ransom, died.

4 Now to the God of victory
Immortal thanks be paid,
Who makes us conquerors while we die,
Thro' Christ our living head.

1 Hosanna to the royal Son
Of David's ancient line,
His natures two, his person one,
Mysterious and divine.

2 The root of David here we find,
And offspring is the same;
Eternity and time are join'd
In our Immanuel's name.

3 Bless'd he that comes to wretched men
With peaceful news from heaven;
Hosannas of the highest strain
To Christ the Lord be given.

4 Let mortals ne'er refuse to take
Th' hosanna on their tongues,
Lest rocks and stones should rise, and break
Their silence into songs.

1 Hear what the voice from heaven proclaims,
For all the pious dead,
Sweet is the savour of their names,
And soft their sleeping bed.

2 They die in Jesus, and are bless'd;
How kind their slumbers are!
From sufferings and from sins releas'd,
And freed from every snare.

3 Far from this world of toil and strife,
They're present with the Lord;
The labours of their mortal life
End in a large reward.

1 There was an hour when Christ rejoic'd,
And spoke his joy in words of praise;
"Father, I thank thee, mighty God,
"Lord of the earth, and heavens, and seas.

2 "I thank thy sovereign power and love,
"That crowns my doctrine with success;
"And makes the babes in knowledge learn
"The heights, and breadths, and lengths of grace.

3 "But all this glory lies conceal'd
"From men of prudence and of wit;
"The prince of darkness blinds their eyes,
"And their own pride resists the light.

4 "Father, 'tis thus, because thy will
"Chose and ordain'd it should be so;
"T'is thy delight t' abase the proud,
"And lay the haughty scorner low.

5 "There's none can know the Father right
"But those who learn it from the Son;
"Nor can the Son be well receiv'd,
But where the Father makes him known."

6 Then let our souls adore our God
That deals his graces as he please,
Nor gives to mortals an account
Or of his actions, or decrees.

1 Jesus, the man of constant grief,
A mourner all his days;
His spirit once rejoic'd aloud,
And tun'd his joy to praise.

2 "Father, I thank thy wondrous love,
"That hath reveal'd thy Son
"To men unlearned; and to babes
"Has made thy gospel known.

3 "The mysteries of redeeming grace
"Are hidden from the wise,
"While pride and carnal reasonings join
"To swell and blind their eyes."

4 Thus doth the Lord of heaven and earth
His great decrees fulfil,
And orders all his works of grace
By his own sovereign will.

1 The lands that long in darkness lay
Now have beheld a heavenly light;
Nations that sat in death's cold shade
Are bless'd with beams divinely bright.

2 The virgin's promis'd Son is born,
Behold th' expected Child appear;
What shall his names or titles be?
The Wonderful, the Counsellor.

3 This infant is the mighty God
Come to be suckled and ador'd
Th' eternal Father, Prince of Peace,
The son of David, and his Lord.

4 The government of earth and seas
Upon his shoulders shall be laid
His wide dominions still increase,
And honours to his name be paid.

5 Jesus the holy child shall sit
High on his father David's throne,
Shall crush his foes beneath his feet,
And reign to ages yet unknown.

1 Who shall the Lord's elect condemn?
'Tis God that justifies their souls,
And mercy like a mighty stream
O'er all their sins divinely rolls.

2 Who shall adjudge the saints to hell?
'Tis Christ that suffer'd in their stead,
And the salvation to fulfil,
Behold him rising from the dead.

3 He lives, he lives, and sits above,
For ever interceding there:
Who shall divide us from his love?
Or what should tempt us to despair?

4 Shall persecution, or distress,
Famine, or sword, or nakedness?
He that hath lov'd us bears us thro',
And makes us more than conquerors too.

5 Faith hath an overcoming power,
It triumphs in the dying hour;
Christ is our life, our joy, our hope,
Nor can we sink with such a prop.

6 Not all that men on earth can do,
Nor powers on high, nor powers below,
Shall cause his mercy to remove,
Or wean our hearts from Christ our love.

1 Let me but hear my Saviour say,
"Strength shall be equal to thy day,"
Then I rejoice in deep distress,
Leaning on all-sufficient Grace.

2 I glory in infirmity,
That Christ's own power may rest on me;
When I am weak, then am I strong,
Grace is my shield, and Christ my song.

3 I can do all things, or can bear
All sufferings, if my Lord be there;
Sweet pleasures mingle with the pains,
While his left hand my head sustains.

4 But if the Lord be once withdrawn,
And we attempt the work alone,
When new temptations spring and rise
We find how great our weakness is.

5 [So Samson, when his hair was lost,
Met the Philistines to his cost;
Shook his vain limbs with sad surprise,
Made feeble fight, and lost his eyes.

1 In vain we lavish out our lives
To gather empty wind,
The choicest blessings earth can yield
Will starve a hungry mind.

2 Come and the Lord shall feed our souls
With more substantial meat,
With such as saints in glory love,
With such as angels eat.

3 Our God will every want supply,
And fill our hearts with peace;
He gives by covenant and by oath
The riches of his grace.

4 Come, and he'll cleanse our spotted souls,
And wash away our stains,
In the dear fountain that his Son
Pour'd from his dying veins.

5 [Our guilt shall vanish all away
Tho' black as hell before;
Our sins shall sink beneath the sea,
And shall be found no more.

6 And lest pollution should o'erspread
Our inward powers again,
His Spirit shall bedew our souls
Like purifying rain.]

7 Our heart, that flinty stubborn thing,
That terrors cannot move,
That fears no threat'nings of his wrath,
Shall be dissolv'd by love;

8 Or he can take the flint away
That would not be refin'd,
And from the treasures of his grace
Bestow a softer mind.

9 There shall his sacred Spirit dwell,
And deep engrave his law,
And every motion of our souls
To swift obedience draw.

10 Thus will he pour salvation down,
And we shall render praise,
We the dear people of his love,
And he our God of grace.

1 How beauteous are their feet
Who stand on Zion's hill!
Who bring salvation on their tongues,
And words of peace reveal!

2 How charming is their voice!
How sweet the tidings are!
"Zion, behold thy Saviour King,
He reigns and triumphs here."

3 How happy are our ears
That hear this joyful sound,
Which kings and prophets waited for,
And sought, but never found!

4 How blessed are our eyes
That see this heavenly light!
Prophets and kings desir'd it long,
But dy'd without the sight.

5 The watchmen join their voice,
And tuneful notes employ;
Jerusalem breaks forth in songs,
And deserts leant the joy.

6 The Lord makes bare his arm
Thro' all the earth abroad
Let every nation now behold
Their Saviour and their God.