In all sickness, the Lord said to the waves of pain, “Hitherto shall ye go, but no further.” His fixed purpose is not the destruction, but the instruction of His people. Wisdom hangs up the thermometer at the furnace mouth and regulates the heart.
The limit is encouragingly comprehensive. The God of providence has limited the time, manner, intensity, repletion, and effects of all our sicknesses; each throb decreed, each sleepless hour predestined, and each relapse ordained, each depression of spirit foreknown, and each sanctifying result eternally purposed. Nothing great or small escapes the ordaining hand of Him who numbers the hairs on our head.
The limit is wisely adjusted to our strength, to the end designed, and to the grace appointed. Affliction comes not at haphazard – the weight of every stroke of the rod is accurately measured. He who made no mistakes in balancing the clouds and meting out the heavens, commits no errors in measuring out the ingredients which compose the medicine of souls. We cannot suffer much more nor be relived too late.
The limit is tenderly appointed. The knife of the Heavenly Surgeon never cuts deeper than is absolutely necessary. “He doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve His Children.” A mother’s heart cries, “Spare my child:” but no mother is more compassionate than our gracious God. When considered how hard-mouthed we are, it is a wonder than we are not driven with a sharper bit. The thought is full of consolation, that he who has fixed the bounds of our habitation, has also fixed the bounds of our tribulation.
Sheriff Gerry Ali – February 3, 2013
You must be logged in to post a comment.