Post by Betty on May 31, 2005 4:18:01 GMT -5
Title: School of Sorrow
"And no man could learn that song but the hundred
and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed
from the earth" (Rev. 14:3).
There are songs which can only be learned in the
valley. No art can teach them; no rules of voice
can make them perfectly sung. Their music is in
the heart. They are songs of memory, of personal
experience. They bring out their burden from the
shadow of the past; they mount on the wings of
yesterday.
St. John says that even in Heaven there will be a
song that can only be fully sung by the sons of
earth--the strain of redemption. Doubtless it is
a song of triumph, a hymn of victory to the
Christ who made us free. But the sense of triumph
must come from the memory of the chain.
No angel, no archangel can sing it so sweetly as
I can. To sing it as I sing it, they must pass
through my exile, and this they cannot do. None
can learn it but the children of the Cross.
And so, my soul, thou art receiving a music
lesson from thy Father. Thou art being educated
for the choir invisible. There are parts of the
symphony that none can take but thee.
There are chords too minor for the angels. There
may be heights in the symphony which are beyond
the scale--heights which angels alone can reach;
but there are depths which belong to thee, and
can only be touched by thee.
Thy Father is training thee for the part the
angels cannot sing; and the school is sorrow. I
have heard many say that He sends sorrow to prove
thee; nay, He sends sorrow to educate thee, to
train thee for the choir invisible.
In the night He is preparing thy song. In the
valley He is tuning thy voice. In the cloud He is
deepening thy chords. In the rain He is
sweetening thy melody. In the cold He is moulding
thy expression. In the transition from hope to
fear He is perfecting thy lights.
Despise not thy school of sorrow, O my soul; it
will give thee a unique part in the universal
song. --George Matheson
"Is the midnight closing round you?
Are the shadows dark and long?
Ask Him to come close beside you,
And He'll give you a new, sweet song.
He'll give it and sing it with you;
And when weakness lets it down,
He'll take up the broken cadence,
And blend it with His own.
"And many a rapturous minstrel
Among those sons of light,
Will say of His sweetest music
'I learned it in the night.'
And many a rolling anthem,
That fills the Father's home,
Sobbed out its first rehearsal,
In the shade of a darkened room."
This classic devotional is the unabridged edition of
Streams in the Desert. This first edition was published
in 1925 and the wording is preserved as originally
written. Connotations of words may have changed over the
years and are not meant to be offensive.
"And no man could learn that song but the hundred
and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed
from the earth" (Rev. 14:3).
There are songs which can only be learned in the
valley. No art can teach them; no rules of voice
can make them perfectly sung. Their music is in
the heart. They are songs of memory, of personal
experience. They bring out their burden from the
shadow of the past; they mount on the wings of
yesterday.
St. John says that even in Heaven there will be a
song that can only be fully sung by the sons of
earth--the strain of redemption. Doubtless it is
a song of triumph, a hymn of victory to the
Christ who made us free. But the sense of triumph
must come from the memory of the chain.
No angel, no archangel can sing it so sweetly as
I can. To sing it as I sing it, they must pass
through my exile, and this they cannot do. None
can learn it but the children of the Cross.
And so, my soul, thou art receiving a music
lesson from thy Father. Thou art being educated
for the choir invisible. There are parts of the
symphony that none can take but thee.
There are chords too minor for the angels. There
may be heights in the symphony which are beyond
the scale--heights which angels alone can reach;
but there are depths which belong to thee, and
can only be touched by thee.
Thy Father is training thee for the part the
angels cannot sing; and the school is sorrow. I
have heard many say that He sends sorrow to prove
thee; nay, He sends sorrow to educate thee, to
train thee for the choir invisible.
In the night He is preparing thy song. In the
valley He is tuning thy voice. In the cloud He is
deepening thy chords. In the rain He is
sweetening thy melody. In the cold He is moulding
thy expression. In the transition from hope to
fear He is perfecting thy lights.
Despise not thy school of sorrow, O my soul; it
will give thee a unique part in the universal
song. --George Matheson
"Is the midnight closing round you?
Are the shadows dark and long?
Ask Him to come close beside you,
And He'll give you a new, sweet song.
He'll give it and sing it with you;
And when weakness lets it down,
He'll take up the broken cadence,
And blend it with His own.
"And many a rapturous minstrel
Among those sons of light,
Will say of His sweetest music
'I learned it in the night.'
And many a rolling anthem,
That fills the Father's home,
Sobbed out its first rehearsal,
In the shade of a darkened room."
This classic devotional is the unabridged edition of
Streams in the Desert. This first edition was published
in 1925 and the wording is preserved as originally
written. Connotations of words may have changed over the
years and are not meant to be offensive.
