Watch, stand fast in the faith, be brave, be strong. Let all that you do be done with love. I Corinthians 16:13, 14 NKJV

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

A Tiny Box

Good Morning~ I hope you all are doing good this morning. I am good. I changed up my schedule this morning, hoping that by going to the park earlier to walk - that maybe I would not get as sweaty. It did not work. But I was able to walk longer than I had the two days before. I am trying to walk about 1 1/2 - 2 miles a day.
My devotional today was really good and I thought that I would share it in order to bless you as well. Here it is - from "Streams in the Desert" devotional book for today.
Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south, blow upon my garden,
 that the spices thereof may flow out!
 (Song of Solomon 4:16).

Look at the meaning of this prayer a moment. Its root is found in the fact that, as delicious odors may lie latent in a spice tree, so graces may lie unexercised and undeveloped in a Christian's heart. There is many a plant of profession; but from the ground there breathes forth no fragrance of holy affections or of godly deeds. The same winds blow on the thistle bush and on the spice tree, but it is only one of them which gives out rich odors.
Sometimes God sends severe blasts of trial upon His children to develop their graces. Just as torches burn most brightly when swung to and fro; just as the juniper plant smells sweetest when flung into the flames; so the richest qualities of a Christian often come out under the north wind of suffering and adversity. Bruised hearts often emit the fragrance that God loveth to smell.

I had a tiny box, a precious box
Of human love--my spikenard of great price;
I kept it close within my heart of hearts,
And scarce would lift the lid lest it should waste
Its perfume on the air. One day a strange
Deep sorrow came with crushing weight, and fell
Upon my costly treasure, sweet and rare,
And broke the box to atoms. All my heart
Rose in dismay and sorrow at this waste,
But as I mourned, behold a miracle
Of grace Divine. My human love was changed
To Heaven's own, and poured in healing streams
On other broken hearts, while soft and clear
A voice above me whispered, "Child of Mine,
With comfort wherewith thou art comforted,
From this time forth, go comfort others,
And thou shalt know blest fellowship with Me,
Whose broken heart of love hath healed the world."


  1. The poem was really pretty.
    I used to have a 'streams in the desert' devotional book many years ago, but I think I gave it to my friend Ellen who lives down the road from me...I remember really enjoying it, but that was a long time ago now.
    It sounds like you are doing good, walking and working around your yard...I did not get a chance to comment on here for awhile now, but wanted to tell you that as far as your hair dilemma, I believe you should do whatever makes you feel best...My hair is not quite long enough yet to put some styling gel in it, but it is pretty thick and as soon as it gets a bit longer (pixie style) I will certainly experiment with some styling gel...I am not sure if I will dye it though since my mother used to dye her hair dark and it always stained her neck which was very noticeable with her hair short...It is salt and pepper right now, maybe I will keep it that way...I figure I earned every grey hair on my head!
    Blessings ~Lisa

  2. Fine lines; there needs to be the triumph from the pains we go through. "Those exercised by them"


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