"....Your children shall be like olive plants all around your table." Psalm 128:3

Monday, November 21, 2016

Keeping Company with Amy Carmichael

From Gold by Moonlight by Amy Carmichael, chapter  3, entitled The Ravine, pages 20- 21:

That weary way is a place of memories. One of the readings of Psalm 42 sees the soul sharpening the knives of pain by remembering jubilant  yesterdays. "These things will I remember, how I passed on in the procession, how I marched with them to the house of God with the voice of joy and praise-a festive crowd." (v. 4b) Yes, we were one of a festive crowd; was there any happy thing we did not do?  And we think of what used to be, so different from all that is now: "When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me." (v. 4a) Was ever a sad heart that did not feel like that?

And yet we are ashamed of such feelings, and the stronger part of us tries to encourage the weaker. "Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me?" (Ps. 42:5a) "Hope in God, for I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance." (Ps. Ps. 43:b)

...Blessed be the tender mercy that has given us the truthful story of such hours, and with that story the power of release: "O send out Thy light and Thy truth; let them lead me; let them bring me unto Thy holy hill, and to Thy tabernacles." (Ps. 43:3) The mountain we are going to climb, the holy hill where His tabernacles are, is not in darkness. A broad beam of light falls upon that hill, a lighted path that leads to light like the pavement of heaven for clearness.

It is all true. We know that it is true. And yet there is something in the trend of our thoughts that is like the backlash of the waves, as wave after wave breaks on the shore. We have looked up. We have seen the lovely radiance of that upper air. but our feet must walk the ways of earth down that dreary hill, past those sombre trees, and into the valley before we can press up through the mist and stand under shining skies.

There is nothing imaginary about the oppression of the enemy, but there is deliverance from that oppression: "O my God, my soul is cast down within me: therefore, will I remember Thee from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar."  (Ps. 42:6)

(You can read my previous posts about this Amy Carmichael book here and here. )

Sharing with Celeste.
And with Dawn.