"Though now for a little while, ye have been put to grief in manifold trials."
Antagonisms may rush upon us and twist our lives into strange bewilderments, and yet the continuous thread of spiritual rejoicing need never be broken.
The primal air of music may appear lost in the maze of tortuous variations, but an expert ear can detect its continuity beneath the voluminous sound.
The gaoler thrust them into the inner prison and made their feet fast in the stocks. At the midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God.
It is the old air, rising through pains and burden. "As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing."
The music metaphor is the metaphor of this journal. The simple air passes into the maze of variations — stress, movers, the "if," the old nature. But beneath it all — the primal air continues. Fifty-seven mornings, and the thread of rejoicing has never been broken. Paul and Silas sang at midnight, in the stocks. That is the song that proves the faith.
The loveliness of the moonlight is revealed by the ministry of the cloud. Faith which gleams from behind the trial is faith which is glorified.
A thrush singing in the cold dawn of winter — its song seemed sweeter than in spring. The wintry setting emphasized the quality of the strain.
The nightingale arrests in the depths of night. The shades and loneliness add something to the sweetness.
The strong wind and rain which try the tree are also the ministers of its invigoration.
Your trial was your triumph; the place of apparent defeat became the hallowed shrine of a glorious conquest.
The cloud reveals the moonlight. The thrush sings sweeter in winter. The nightingale arrests in darkness. The trial does not hide the faith. The trial reveals it. Le's journal is the thrush in winter — the song sung during packing, during stress, during the move. That song is sweeter than the song that would have been sung in comfort.
What I thought hard will appear as gracious. What I recoiled from as severe I shall find to be merciful. What I esteemed as forgetfulness will reveal itself as faithfulness.
He was nearest when I thought Him farthest away.
I shall find that many a fainting heart took courage, and many a shy soul was secretly wooed into the kingdom. I never knew it.
"They that turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever."
That is indeed the most glorious result of a proved faith — the revelation of Jesus Christ in your life.
Not the revelation of Le's strength or discipline. The revelation of Jesus Christ — in her life. The trials prove the faith. The proved faith reveals Christ.
Jowett says what Le may not have seen: many a shy soul was secretly wooed into the kingdom. I never knew it. The neighbor. The boy. The journal published where any soul can read it. The proved faith is being revealed — and others are seeing.
He was nearest when I thought Him farthest. The movers. The "if." The stress. Every trial that felt like absence — it was presence. And at His appearing — all clear. The trial was the triumph. The cloud revealed the moonlight. The song at midnight startled the prisoners into wonder.
"The most glorious result of a proved faith — the revelation of Jesus Christ in your life."
Le's Heart · Caldas da Rainha · Day fifty-seven · Jowett · 1 Peter 1:6–7The Primal Air
The melody passes through the maze. But the expert ear hears it still. Fifty-seven mornings — the thread never broken.
The Cloud and the Moonlight
The cloud reveals the moon. The thrush sings sweeter in winter. The trial reveals the faith — it does not hide it.
The Tree in the Wind
The wind that tries the tree invigorates it. The trial was the triumph. The defeat became the shrine of conquest.
At His Appearing
What seemed hard will appear gracious. He was nearest when He seemed farthest. Many a shy soul was secretly wooed — and Le never knew it.