Quote: "Death to the Christian..."

Death to the Christian is the funeral of all his sorrows and evils, and the resurrection of all his joys.

–Aughey

Quote: "We picture death as coming to destroy..."

We picture death as coming to destroy; let us rather picture Christ as coming to save.

We think of death as ending;

let us rather think of life as beginning and that more abundantly.

We think of losing;

let us think of gaining.

We think of parting,

let us think of meeting.

We think of going away;

let us think of arriving.

And as the voice of death whispers "You must go from earth,"

let us hear the voice of Christ saying, "You are but coming to Me!"

–Macleod

Precious little one... not lost--just gone before!

I'm sitting here with a lump in my throat…

Today was the day our little baby was due.  Our only flesh-and-blood child.  I wonder: what does he/she look like? Blonde hair, blue eyes, most likely… Boy? Girl? Outgoing? Reserved? Short? Tall? So many other questions that go through my mind.  How I’d love to lay eyes on our child for just a little! Hold our baby on my lap… run my fingers through his/her hair… kiss those soft baby cheeks, and count all the perfect fingers and toes.  If I could, I’d protect our baby from this harsh world… guide his/her heart toward God… do my best to lead this soul into heaven. But this was not to be.  We had to say good-bye before we said hello…

But really, is that SO important? Isn’t the ultimate goal and purpose for any person—big or small—to bring glory to God and spend eternity with Him?  If so, then our baby has already fulfilled that purpose!  He/she just got it done before the rest of our family. 

No—I refuse to believe that we LOST our baby.  Yes, we lost him/her from our sight, but not forever.  No… our baby is safe. Safe in the arms of Jesus…

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast;

There by His love o’ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest.

Hark! ’tis the voice of angels borne in a song to me,

Over the fields of glory, over the jasper sea.

Refrain:

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast;

There by His love o’ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest.

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe from corroding care,

Safe from the world’s temptations; sin cannot harm me there.

Free from the blight of sorrow, free from my doubts and fears;

Only a few more trials, only a few more tears!

Refrain:

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast;

There by His love o’ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest.

Jesus, my heart’s dear Refuge, Jesus has died for me;

Firm on the Rock of Ages ever my trust shall be.

Here let me wait with patience, wait till the night is o’er;

Wait till I see the morning break on the golden shore.

Refrain:

Safe in the arms of Jesus, safe on His gentle breast;

There by His love o’ershaded, sweetly my soul shall rest.

~Fannie J. Crosby

Quote... "Death is the opening..."

Death is the opening of a more subtle life.  In the flower, it sets free the perfume; in the chrysalis, the butterfly; in man the soul.

–Adam

Quote... "Often the test of courage..."

Often the test of courage is not to die but to live. 

–Alfieri

"Thanks to God!" by August L. Storm

Thanks to God for my Redeemer,

Thanks for all Thou dost provide!

Thanks for times now but a mem’ry,

Thanks for Jesus by my side!

Thanks for pleasant, balmy springtime,

Thanks for dark and stormy fall!

Thanks for tears by now forgotten,

Thanks for peace within my soul!

Thanks for prayers that Thou hast answered,

Thanks for what Thou dost deny!

Thanks for storms that I have weathered,

Thanks for all Thou dost supply!

Thanks for pain, and thanks for pleasure,

Thanks for comfort in despair!

Thanks for grace that none can measure,

Thanks for love beyond compare!

Thanks for roses by the wayside,

Thanks for thorns their stems contain!

Thanks for home and thanks for fireside,

Thanks for hope, that sweet refrain!

Thanks for joy and thanks for sorrow,

Thanks for heav’nly peace with Thee!

Thanks for hope in the tomorrow,

Thanks through all eternity!

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"Lord, help me to CHOOSE gratitude even if I don't always FEEL it."

The Thorn---by Martha Snell Nicholson

 

The Thorn

by Martha Snell Nicholson

I stood a mendicant of God

before His royal throne
And begged him for one priceless gift,

which I could call my own.

I took the gift from out His hand,

but as I would depart
I cried, “But Lord this is a thorn

and it has pierced my heart.

This is a strange, a hurtful gift,

which Thou hast given me.”
He said, “My child, I give good gifts

and gave My best to thee.”

I took it home and though at first

the cruel thorn hurt sore,
As long years passed I learned at last

to love it more and more.

I learned He never gives a thorn

without this added grace,
He takes the thorn to pin aside

the veil which hides His face.