Monday Meditation: Better Than My Best

 

"Vindicate me, O Lord, for I have walked in my integrity;
I have expectantly trusted in, leaned on, and relied on the Lord
without wavering and I shall not slide."
(Psalm 26:1)

Wild Violets

New Jersey State Flower
Image courtesy/Pinterest

I prayed for strength, and then I lost awhile

All sense of nearness, human and divine;

The love I leaned on failed and pierced my heart,

The hands I clung to loosened themselves from mine;

But while I swayed, weak, trembling, and alone,

The everlasting arms upheld my own.

I prayed for light; the sun went down in clouds,

The moon was darkened by a misty doubt,

The stars of heaven were dimmed by earthly fears,

And all my little candle flames burned out;

But while I sat in shadow, wrapped in night,

The face of Christ made all the darkness bright.

I prayed for peace, and dreamed of restful ease,

A slumber drugged from pain, a hushed repose;

Above my head the skies were black with storm,

And fiercer grew the onslaught of my foes;

But while the battle raged, and wild winds blew,

I heard His voice and perfect peace I knew.

I thank Thee, Lord, Thou wert too wise to heed

My feeble prayers and answer as I sought,

Since these rich gifts Thy bounty has bestowed

Have brought me more than all I asked or thought;

Giver of good, so answer each request

With Thine own giving, better than my best.

"Better Than My Best"
Annie Johnson Flint
(1866-1932)
American Christian poetess
Image courtesy/Precept Austin

Although we were born nearly 100 years apart, I often feel that Annie,
is a friend and a kindred spirit, speaking words of wisdom and courage
 to me across the threshold of time through her beautiful poetry.

.  It troubles me, however, that such a gifted writer like Annie suffered 
 from crippling arthritis for most of her life.  There is no doubt in my
mind that this woman loved the Lord Jesus Christ with all her heart.
Her deep and abiding faith in her Savior is clearly reflected in her
many inspirational poems, often written while she was bedridden,
and hardly able to move due to excruciating pain.  Why did this
 happen to her? Is there a hidden purpose in suffering?

As Annie's biographer, Rowland V. Bingham wrote, "In considering the
life of Annie Johnson Flint one is perplexed with questions as old as
humanity itself, such as the mystery of pain and suffering. That the
wicked should suffer as a reward for their wrong doing seems just
and right, but that the righteous should pass through the furnace,
sometimes heated seven times, is a great stumbling block to
many people. That is because we only see half the circle of life.
One thing we are sure of, and that is that the Divine Potter
makes no mistakes as He molds the clay in His hands.
When it comes forth from His hand, He has fashioned it
indeed, a goodly vessel prepared and fit for the Master's use."