Monday, May 11, 2009

Refuge from the Storm

By Mrs. Charles Cowman

One night during a terrible storm, a man walked along the shore of the sea. The clouds hung low overhead. The wind howled. Thunder roared. Lightning flashed and the rain poured down in torrents.

The man pulled his overcoat closer around him, bent his body to the wind and hurried home. A little bird lost in the storm sought shelter under his coat; he took it in his hand, carried it home, and placed it in a warm cage. The next morning after the storm had subsided, and the clouds had cleared away, he took the little bird to the door. It paused on his hand for a moment; then lifting its tiny wings, it hurried back to its forest home. Then it was that Charles Wesley (1707-1788) went back to his room and wrote the words to a song that is loved around the world today and will live on in time:

Jesus, Lover of my soul,
Let me to Thy bosom fly,
While the nearer waters roll,
While the tempest still is high.

Hide me, O my Savior, hide,
Till the storm of life be past.
Safe into the haven guide,
O receive my soul at last!

Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee.
Leave, ah! Leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me.

When wearied with the strain of it all, you can fly to God on the wings of prayer and faith and get the relief that He alone can give you.

Though we tremble in the dark,
In need of strength and help and cheer,
We have a tender Father's Word:
"Fear thou not, for I am here!"
--Dinnie McDole Hays


Our great matters are little to God's infinite power, and our little matters are great to His Father love.

The local parks commission had been ordered to remove the trees from a certain street which was to be widened. As they were about to begin, the foreman and his men noticed a robin's nest in one of the trees and the mother robin sitting on the nest. The foreman ordered the men to leave the tree until later.

Returning, they found the nest occupied by little wide-mouthed robins. Again they left the tree. When they returned at a later date they found the nest empty. The family had grown and flown away. But something at the bottom of the nest caught the eye of one of the workmen--a soiled little white card. When he had separated it from the mud and sticks, he found that it was a small Sunday school card and on it the words, "We trust in the Lord our God."

Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? (The Bible, Matthew 6:26).