I will drink my “cup”

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Without pain, there would be no suffering, without suffering we would never learn from our mistakes. To make it right, pain and suffering is the key to all windows, without it, there is no way of life.

Angelina Jolie

2 Corinthians 6:10

New International Version (NIV)

10 sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.

A Stoic person despises the shedding of tears, but a Christian is not forbidden to weep. yet the soul may become silent from excessive grief, just as the quivering sheep may remain quite beneath the scissors of the shearer. Or, when the heart is at the verge of breaking beneath the waves of a trial, the sufferer may seek relief by crying out with a loud voice. But there is something even better. It is that springs of sweet, fresh water pool up amid the saltiness of the oceans, that the fairest Alpine flowers bloom in the wildest and most rugged mountain passes, and that tyhe most magnificent psalms arose from the most profound agonies of the soul.

May it continue to be! Therefore, amid a multitude of trials, souls who love God will discover reasons for boundless, leaping joy. even though “deep calls to deep” (Psalms 42:7), the clear cadence of the Lord’s song will be heard. And during the most difficult hour that could ever enter a human life, It will be possible to bless the God and father of our Lord jesus christ. I wonder have any of you learned this lesson yet? Not simply to endure or to choose God’s will but to rejoice in it “with an inexpressible and glorious joy.”

I wish to complete the process of Maturity so I can be found ripe for the task. Olives that render good sweet juice upon pressing are only good for the picking if they have endured the press and riping process while on the vine.

I will be still, my bruised heart faintly murmured,
As over me rolled a crushing load of woe;
My words, my cries, even my low moan was stifled;
I pressed my lips; i barred the teardrops’s flow.

I will be still, although I cannot see it,
The love that bares a soul and fans pain’s fire;
That takes away the last sweet drop of solace,
Breaks the lone harp string, hides your precious lyre.

But God is love, so I will stay me, stay me–
We’ll doubt not, Soul, we will be very still;
We’ll wait till after while, when He will lift us–
Yes, after while, when it will be His will.

And now my heart and I are sweetly singing–
Singing without the sound of tuneful strings;
Drinking abundant waters in the desert;
crushed, and yet soaring as on eagle’s wings.

Thank You,
Blessed Aaron

 

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