Melancholy

Chariot  ChariotYellow  ChariotBlue  

Sadness discolors everything; it leaves all objects charmless; it involves future prospects in darkness; it deprives the soul of all its aspirations, enchains all its powers, and produces a mental paralysis!

An old believer remarked, that cheerfulness in religion makes all its services come off with delight; and that we are never carried forward so swiftly in the ways of duty as when borne on the wings of delight; adding, that Melancholy clips such wings; or, to alter the figure, takes off our chariot wheels in duty, and makes them, like those of the Egyptians, drag heavily.

from: Satan’s Tools

 

Flowers in the Canyon

(from Streams in the Desert by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman)

In one of Ralph Connor’s books he tells a story of Gwen. Gwen was a wild, wilful lassie and one who had always been accustomed to having her own way. Then one day she met with a terrible accident which crippled her for life. She became very rebellious and in the murmuring state she was visited by the Sky Pilot, as the missionary among the mountaineers was termed. He told her the parable of the canyon.

“At first there were no canyons, but only the broad, open prairie. One day the Master of the Prairie, walking over his great lawns, where were only grasses, asked the Prairie, ‘Where are your flowers?’ and the Prairie said, ‘Master I have no seeds.’

“Then he spoke to the birds, and they carried seeds of every kind of flower and strewed them far and wide, and soon the prairie bloomed with crocuses and roses and buffalo beans and the yellow crowfoot and the wild sunflowers and the red lilies all summer long. Then the Master came and was well pleased; but he missed the flowers he loved best of all, and he said to the Prairie: ‘Where are the clematis and the columbine, the sweet violets and wind-flowers, and all the ferns and flowering shrubs?’

“And again he spoke to the birds, and again they carried all the seeds and scattered them far and wide. But, again, when the Master came he could not find the flowers he loved best of all, and he said: “‘Where are those my sweetest flowers?’ and the Prairie cried sorrowfully: “‘Oh, Master, I cannot keep the flowers, for the winds sweep fiercely, and the sun beats upon my breast, and they wither up and fly away.’

“Then the Master spoke to the Lightning, and with one swift blow the Lightning cleft the Prairie to the heart. And the Prairie rocked and groaned in agony, and for many a day moaned bitterly over the black, jagged, gaping wound. But the river poured its waters through the cleft, and carried down deep black mould.

“And once more the birds carried seeds and strewed them in the canyon. And after a long time the rough rocks were decked out with soft mosses and trailing vines, and all the nooks were hung with clematis and columbine, and great elms lifted their huge tops high up into the sunlight, and down about their feet clustered the low cedars and balsams, and everywhere the violets and wind-flower and maiden-hair grew and bloomed, till the canyon became the Master’s favorite place for rest and peace and joy.”

Then the Sky Pilot read to her: “The fruit–I’ll read ‘flowers’–of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness–and some of these grow only in the canyon.” “Which are the canyon flowers?” asked Gwen softly, and the Pilot answered: “Gentleness, meekness, longsuffering; but though the others, love, joy, peace, bloom in the open, yet never with so rich a bloom and so sweet a perfume as in the canyon.”

For a long time Gwen lay quite still, and then said wistfully, while her lips trembled: “There are no flowers in my canyon, but only ragged rocks.” “Some day they will bloom, Gwen dear; the Master will find them, and we, too, shall see them.”

Beloved, when you come to your canyon, remember!

Have you heard, have you heard / About this girl who was ripped up by her roots ?
Have you heard, what she learned? / Like humility – you win when you lose
I have learned, I have learned / The most horrifying nights have an end
I was hurt, I was lost In the dark I found a way to a friend
I am standing here in my ravine Once again I see a piece of the sky
And my joy’ll never be denied‘Cause I was meant to be here –
The only place on earth / Where you are near, where you are near
Was a flower, was so frail / And I let the trees grow wild around me
Grew so high, hid the sky / Shaded everything I needed to see
Then one night, someone came / Took a knife and ripped me up by my roots
Tossed astray, far away / In the darkest night, I started to pray
I am standing…
Why do you, why do you ask /  Why I’m not blaming my God?
I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you what / He was the only one there
I am standing…

Manantiales

The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them;
and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose.

It shall blossom abundantly, and rejoice even with joy and singing:
the glory of Lebanon shall be given unto it,
the excellency of Carmel and Sharon,
they shall see the glory of the Lord, and the excellency of our God.

Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees.

Say to them that are of a fearful heart, Be strong, fear not:
behold, your God will come with vengeance,
even God with a recompence;
he will come and save you.

Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened,
and the ears of the deaf shall be unstopped.

Then shall the lame man leap as an hart,
and the tongue of the dumb sing:
for in the wilderness shall waters break out,
and streams in the desert.

Isaiah 35:1-6 [KJV]

Streams in the Desert