Topic : God, care of

Jehovah-Jireh

The Lord Will Provide Gen. 22:14

The saints should never be dismay’d,
Nor sink in hopeless fear;
For when they least expect His aid,
The Saviour will appear.

This Abraham found: he raised the knife;
God saw, and said, “Forbear!
Yon ram shall yield his meaner life;
Behold the victim there.”

Once David seem’d Saul’s certain prey;
But hark! the foe’s at hand;
Saul turns his arms another way,
To save the invaded land.

When Jonah sunk beneath the wave,
He thought to rise no more;
But God prepared a fish to save,
And bear him to the shore.

Blest proofs of power and grace divine,
That meet us in His Word!
May every deep-felt care of mine
Be trusted with the Lord.

Wait for His seasonable aid,
And though it tarry, wait;
The promise may be long delay’d,
But cannot come too late.

Olney Hymns, William Cowper, from Cowper’s Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York

For the Poor

When Hagar found the bottle spent,
And wept o’er Ishmael,
A message from the Lord was sent
To guide her to a well.

Should not Elijah’s cake and cruse
Convince us at this day,
A gracious God will not refuse
Provisions by the way'

His saints and servants shall be fed,
The promise is secure;
“Bread shall be given them,” as He said,
“Their water shall be sure.”

Repasts far richer they shall prove,
Than all earth’s dainties are;
‘Tis sweet to taste a Saviour’s love,
Though in the meanest fare.

To Jesus then your trouble bring,
Nor murmur at your lot;
While you are poor and He is King,
You shall not be forgot.

Olney Hymns, William Cowper, from Cowper’s Poems, Sheldon & Company, New York

God Knows

I know not, but God knows;
Oh, blessed rest from fear!
All my unfolding days
To Him are plain and clear.

Each anxious puzzled “Why?”
From doubt or dread that grows,
Finds answer in this thought:
I know not, but He knows.

I cannot but God can;
Oh, balm for all my care!
The burden that I drop
His hand will lift and bear,

Though eagle pinions tire,—
I walk where once I ran,
This is my strength to know:
I cannot, but God can.

- Annie Johnson Flint

Swindoll, Starting Over, p. 35

George Mueller

George Mueller (1805-1898) built many orphanages at Ashley Down, England. Without a personal salary, he relied only on God to supply the money and food needed to support the hundreds of homeless children he befriended in the name of Christ. A man of radiant faith, he kept a motto on his desk for many years that brought comfort, strength, and uplifting confidence to his heart. It read, “It matters to Him about you.” Mueller believed that those words captured the meaning of 1 Peter 5:7, and he rested his claim for divine help on that truth. He testified at the end of his life that the Lord had never failed to supply all his needs.

Audrey Mien has expressed the truth of today’s text in these words:

Be not troubled with thoughts of the morrow,
Of duties you surely must do.
On the Lord cast your burden of sorrow;
It matters to Him about you!

Be not weary when trials are given,
But trust Him to carry you through.
He will make all a pathway to heaven;
It matters to Him about you!

Then be patient until His appearing,
‘Tis dawn almost now on your view;
For the mists of this dark age are clearing.
In love He is planning for you!

Once on a time a paper kite
Was mounted to a wondrous height,
Where, giddy with its elevation,
It thus express’d self-admiration:

“See how yon crowds of gazing people
Admire my flight above the steeple;
How would they wonder if they knew
All that a kite like me can do!

Were I but free, I’d take a flight,
And pierce the clouds beyond their sight,
But, ah! like a poor pris’ner bound,
My string confines me near the ground;

I’d brave the eagle’s towering wing,
Might I but fly without a string.”
It tugg’d and pull’d, while thus it spoke,
To break the string—at last it broke.

Depriv’d at once of all its stay,
In vain it try’d to soar away;
Unable its own weight to bear,
It flutter’d downward through the air;

Unable is own course to guide,
The winds soon plung’d it in the tide.
Ah! foolish kite, thou hadst no wing,
How could’st thou fly without a string!

My heart reply’d, “O Lord, I see
How much this kite resembles me!
Forgetful that by thee I stand,
Impatient of thy ruling hand;

How oft I’ve wish’d to break the lines
Thy wisdom for my lot assigns'
How oft indulg’d a vain desire
For something more, or something high’r?

And, but for grace and love divine,
A fall thus dreadful had been mine.”

- John Newton

Source unknown

Faithful Father

A little boy was eagerly looking forward to the birthday party of a friend who lived only a few blocks away. When the day finally arrived, a blizzard made the sidewalks and roads nearly impassable. The lad’s father, sensing the danger, hesitated to let his son go. The youngster reacted tearfully. “But Dad,” he pleaded, “all the other kids will be there. Their parents are letting them go.” The father thought for a moment, then replied softly, “All right, you may go.” Surprised but overjoyed, the boy bundled up and plunged into the raging storm. The driving snow made visibility almost impossible, and it took him more than half an hour to trudge the short distance to the party. As he rang the doorbell, he turned briefly to look out into the storm. His eye caught the shadow of a retreating figure. It was his father. He had followed his son’s every step to make sure he arrived safely.

Source unknown

He Careth For You

A construction crew was building a new road through a rural area, knocking down trees as it progressed. A superintendent noticed that one tree had a nest of birds who couldn’t yet fly and he marked the tree so that it would not be cut down. Several weeks later the superintendent came back to the tree. He got into a bucket truck and was lifted up so that he could peer into the nest. The fledglings were gone. They had obviously learned to fly. The superintendent ordered the tree cut down. As the tree crashed to the ground, the nest fell clear and some of the material that the birds had gathered to make the nest was scattered about. Part of it was a scrap torn from a Sunday school pamphlet. On the scrap of paper were these words: He careth for you.

Bits and Pieces, November, 1989, p. 23.



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