|
「眾聖之王阿，你的方法義哉、誠哉。」（聖經啟示錄十五章 3 節）
在患難中經歷很深的司布真師母說：
「有一天晚上，我獨自坐在椅子上休息；雖然室中很光亮，但是我心靈中有一層黑暗罩著，使我不能看見甚麼。我好似滑跌在傷痛中。我憂憂愁愁地自問說：『為什麼我的神如此待祂的孩子呢？為什麼祂一直把銳利的痛苦加給我呢？為什麼祂應允纏綿的軟弱來攔阻我去事奉祂呢？』
室內寂靜了好久，我忽然聽見一聲清幽悅耳的樂音，很像窗下知更鳥的歌聲。這是什麼聲音？絕不會是知更鳥在那裡唱歌，因為這是寒冷的晚上。又是一聲。這次我才發現：原來是壁爐口一根橡樹枝，正被猛烈的火焰焚燒著，從裂口中發出那個好聽的音樂來！
此時，我發生了一些感想：當這根樹枝嫩綠青翠的時侯，很多歌鳥遊歇其上，唱出美麗的調兒來，祂就把那些歌聲收集起來，蓄存在裡面。後來它漸漸老了，樹枝漸漸硬了；那聲音便永久被封住在裡面了，直到猛烈的火焰燒毀了它的堅硬，久囚的音樂才被釋放。
啊，照樣，神用痛苦的火焰燃燒我們，原是要從我們久寂的心中抽出讚美的歌聲來，叫我們的神得著榮耀！就在此時，我得了安慰。」 ── 選
恐怕我們中間有幾個很像這根橡樹枝──老、冷、硬、麻木，我們不會發出讚美的聲音來，如果沒有火的催逼。
如果苦難的火焰會叫無情的冷心得到溫暖，願爐中的火焰較前加旺「七倍！」 ── 選
**************************
"Just and true are thy ways, thou King of saints."(Rev. 15:3.)
THE following incident is related by Mrs. Charles Spurgeon, who was a great sufferer for more than a quarter of a century:
"At the close of a dark and gloomy day, I lay resting on my couch as the deeper night drew on; and though all was bright within my cozy room, some of the external darkness seemed to have entered into my soul and obscured its spiritual vision. Vainly I tried to see the Hand which I knew held mine, and guided my fogenveloped feet along a steep and slippery path of suffering. In sorrow of heart I asked,
"Why does my Lord thus deal with His child? Why does He so often send sharp and bitter pain to visit me? Why does He permit lingering weakness to hinder the sweet service I long to render to His poor servants?'
"These fretful questions were quickly answered, and through a strange language; no interpreter was needed save the conscious whisper of my heart.
"For a while silence reigned in the little room, broken only by the crackling of the oak log burning in the fireplace. Suddenly I heard a sweet, soft sound, a little, clear, musical note, like the tender trill of a robin beneath my window. "What can it be? surely no bird can be singing out there at this time of the year and night.'
"Again came the faint, plaintive notes, so sweet, so melodious, yet mysterious enough to provoke our wonder. My friend exclaimed,
"Perchance he had garnered up this song in the days when all was well with him, when birds twittered merrily on his branches, and the soft sunlight flecked his tender leaves with gold. But he had grown old since then, and hardened; ring after ring of knotty growth had sealed up the long-forgotten melody, until the fierce tongues of the flames came to consume his callousness, and the vehement heart of the fire wrung from him at once a song and a sacrifice. Ah,' thought I, when the fire of affliction draws songs of praise from us, then indeed we are purified, and our God is glorified!'
"Perhaps some of us are like this old oak log, cold, hard, insensible; we should give forth no melodious sounds, were it not for the fire which kindles around us, and releases notes of trust in Him, and cheerful compliance with his will.
"Singing in the fire! Yes, God helping us, if that is the only way to get harmony out of these hard apathetic hearts, let the furnace be heated seven times hotter than before."
|