Tuesday, October 16, 2018

THE PRAISE SERIES (PART 18) - PRAISE HIM FOR THOSE "BLACK DOTS!"

It is good to praise the LORD and make music to 

Your Name, O Most High, proclaiming Your love in the 

Morning and Your faithfulness at night, to the music 

of the ten-stringed lyre and the melody of the harp" 

Psalm 92:1-3


No matter what the source of the evil, if you are in God and surrounded by Him as by an atmosphere, all evil has to pass through Him before it comes to you. Therefore you can thank and praise God for everything that comes, not for the sin of it, but for what God will bring out of it and through it. May God make our lives thanksgiving and perpetual praise, then He will make everything a blessing. We once saw a man draw some black dots. We looked and could make nothing of them but an irregular assemblage of black dots. Then he drew a few lines, put in a few rests, then a clef at the beginning, and we saw these black dots were musical notes. On sounding them we were singing: 

"Praise God from whom all blessings flow,
Praise Him all creatures here below.
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father, Son and Holy Ghost"

There are many black dots and black spots in our lives, and we cannot understand why they are there or why God permitted them to come. But if we let God come into our lives, and adjust the dots in the proper way, and draw the lines He wants, and separate this from that, and put in the rests at the proper places; out of the black dots and spots in our lives He will make a glorious harmony. Let us not hinder Him in this glorious work! - C. H. P. 
"Would we know that the major chords were sweet,
If there were no minor key?
Would the painter's work be fair to our eyes,
Without shade on land or sea?"
"Would we know the meaning of happiness,
Would we feel that the day was bright,
If we'd never known what it was to grieve,
Nor gazed on the dark of night?"

Many men owe the grandeur of their lives to their tremendous difficulties.- C.H. Spurgeon When the musician presses the black keys on the great organ, the music is as sweet as when he touches the white ones, but to get the capacity of the instrument he must touch them all.- Selected
(An extract from - Streams In The Desert by Mrs. Charles E. Cowan)