Her shaky voice on the other end of the line troubled me. The seriousness of her situation justified concern. Sick children and her traveling husband increased the weight of her own fragile health. Dark clouds loomed over the word tomorrow.
With her permission, I sent a copy of a poem which once lighted a dark path for me. From my own reservoir of resources I shared with my friend.
I remember the night our little one cried out with a raging fever. Bringing him into bed with us, I listened to his shallow, rattling breathing which left no mystery. This was pneumonia, and the unfamiliar culture we lived in expected us to wait until morning when the doctor opened his office.
I was scared; I was scared for the life of my child. How I longed for dawn to break forth. As I waited (and worried) I rehearsed the words of this beloved poem by Annie Flint Johnson.
Now today, decades later, perhaps the solace it once offered to me would encourage the heart and soul of my dear friend.
He Giveth More Grace
He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He giveth more strength when the labors increase;
To added affliction He addeth His mercy;
To multiplied trials, His multiplied peace.
When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father’s full giving is only begun.
His love has no limit.
His grace has no measure;
His power has no boundary known unto men;
For out of His infinite riches in Jesus,
He giveth and giveth and giveth again.
Living with Eternal Intentionality: When have you seen God rally and provide His supernatural resources to cope with the circumstances you faced?
(2 Corinthians 12:9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.)
