Tuesday, February 9, 2010
I asked him again,
Have you taken enough,
I am at the end of my rope,
There is nothing that I take away,
That I don't replace ten fold.
But still the hurt became worse,
And again I asked him haven't you taken enough,
Again he answered,
I am like the black smith,
Who subjects gold to fire,
To remove its impurities,
To make it pure.
For the last time I asked him in complete agony,
Haven't you taken enough,
And he whispered,
I knew you couldn't take anymore,
So I started to carry you home.
You just didn't realize it yet.
Only the pure in heart can enter.
"6In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7These have come so that your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." 1Peter 1:6-7
7But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 8We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; 9persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. 10We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. 11For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body. 12So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you. 2 Cor. 4:7-9