quarta-feira, 3 de fevereiro de 2016
ARMS AROUND ME!
Happiness is made up of many things: it is a smile of a child, the golden glows of a sunrise, the warm hug of a loved one, health after sickness. But such happiness is also transitory: a child does not always smile, the sunrise may be overshadowed with dark clouds, a loved one may leave, sickness may not pass. There is another happiness, that is deeper and everlasting, and that is the happiness that comes into your soul when you realise the depth, breadth, and height of God’s love for you, a love embodied in His Son, Jesus.
To find Jesus is to discover that no matter your weakness, no matter your inabilities, no matter your despair, there is a strength you can draw upon, a hope you can lean upon, a love you can dwell within. Truly, “Happy are the people whose God is the Lord!”—Psalm 144:15
The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.—Deuteronomy 33:27
Behold the love of God. In those years that have passed away, it never failed. When we fell, it raised us; when we wandered, it recalled us; when we fainted, it revived us; when we sinned, it pardoned us; when we wept, it comforted us. In those moments of agony and doubt and almost despair, which some can recall, it was all-sufficient.—Rev. Canon Money, adapted
Help us never to forget your love, but to dwell therein whatever we do, whether we sleep or wake, live or die, or rise again to the life that is to come. For your love is eternal life and everlasting rest. O let its flame never be quenched in our hearts; let it grow and brighten, until our whole souls are glowing and shining with its light and warmth.—Prayer of Johann Arndt (1551–1621), adapted
O God, whose smile is in the sky,
Whose path is in the sea,
Once more from earth’s tumultuous strife
We gladly turn to thee.
We come as those with toil far spent
Who crave thy rest and peace,
And from the care and fret of life
Would find in thee release.
—John H. Holmes
Safe in the arms of Jesus,
Safe on His gentle breast;
There by His love o’ershaded,
Sweetly my soul shall rest.
—Fanny Crosby (1820–1915)