We walk by faith. Faith overcomes the world. We live by faith. Faith is the work of God. By faith are we saved. This we know.
Now there is much ado made about love, joy, peace and works. But the thing that is striking is that with faith in the trial of the saints is mentioned none of those but patience. “Here is the patience and faith of the saints” (Rev. 13:10). Less is said about patience but this patience is the virtue of all virtues coupled with faith. The Lord teaches us to wait.
I once saw a man
Sitting in a chair on his veranda.
His feet were raised up and resting on a rail,
His eyes pegged on the road ahead.
He seemed to be waiting
With longing and hope.
He was alone and didn’t like it much,
And waited for someone to come.
Time passed on…and on…and on.
I looked again and saw
The prairie without life, as before,
The house, the veranda, and chair;
I saw the feet on the rail,
The figure was still there
But no flesh was left, only dust and bones
And cloth and cobwebs and hair.
Lord, why must we wait so long
For promises to be fulfilled?
Soon I begin to think and feel
That these promises were only imagined
Or that I have failed somehow.
I begin to think of that man
Who waited with hope in vain.
Will this be my lot? Am I that man?
My heart sick with hope deferred?
Will I turn to dust as that lonely soul,
Feeding on empty dreams?
But no, this is the patience and faith of the saints
Who are called to trust and to hope.
So we wait and accept the delay.
The man had no promise,
His hopes were in vain,
And he perished, not knowing the truth.
But we know the truth.
We know what we know because we have heard
And believe the One Who is true.
Lethbridge, Sept. 30, 1984
¿Quién ha sabido que el Día del Señor, el Gran Día del Juicio llega en el siervo ungido de Dios que viene sin advertencia, fanfarria u observación? ¿Quién ha sabido que Él no solo viene como ladrón, sino que también permanece y actúa como tal y deja los hogares que ha visitado con sus debidos juicios, mientras que la mayoría no lo sabe hasta mucho después?
Death and parting are never easy between loved ones whether they be righteous or otherwise but with the righteous there is the sure hope of coming together again, the hope of a resurrection. The sunset sometimes promises that hope to be fulfilled and while there is sadness in the departure of the precious, there is also a solemn beauty to temper the sorrow and speak of better things to come. It is only by faith that we perceive that the sun will rise again soon. Coral and lavender, Quiet magnificence; Tender departure, Peaceful farewell. Beauty and Sadness Clasping hands, Warmly embracing, Shedding tears, saying, "It's alright, it's okay!" Gently passing away. Stettler, Alta., Spring, 1987
Though many who presume to preach the gospel of salvation would deny this, they give people the impression that, upon believing the gospel, all trials and troubles will flee. While it is true that if we walk in truth and righteousness we save ourselves untold evils, it is evil which the Lord uses to break us and mold us after His likeness. And these trials can be far more difficult than those we had previously. Take Paul for example. Was he whipped, stoned and beaten with rods when an unbelieving Jew according to the flesh, sitting amongst friends at the feet of Gamaliel? The evils applied to us for good develop invulnerability and immortality. Resilience, where would I be If not for your helping hand? At one time I was deathly ill, So vulnerable to the slightest afflictions. Scratches would hold sway Like a pestilence And linger in my soul For years. But now like a ball of Indian rubber, I bounce away from a wall of brick Whereas once I was as an egg. The past is a fearful jailor, A formidable tormentor as well. With an iron grip, With shackles and chains, It held me In bitterness and regret, In shame and dismay, In helpless thoughts Of revenge and amends. Not so now. Resilience has come, Riding upon healing, Healing harnessed in pardon, And now I am free. Afflictions still come And pain is there From enemies far greater In power and number With liberties of warfare Given to them And denied to me. But whereas a scratch was o...