The Hope Of Heaven Under Troubles Is

I Perceive We Postpone All Our Joys Of Christ, Till He And We Be In Our Own House Above, Thinking That There Is Nothing Of It Here To Be Sought Or Found, But Only Hope And Fair Promises; And That Christ Will Give Us Nothing Here But Tears, Sadness, Crosses; And That We Shall Never Feel The Smell Of The Flowers Of That High Garden Of Paradise Above, Till We Come There. Nay, But I Find It Possible To Find Young Glory, And A Young Green Paradise Of Joy Even Here. We Dream Of Hunger In Christ's House, While We Are Here, Although He Alloweth Feasts To All The Bairns Within God's Household.

Praise God For The Hammer, The File, And The Furnace. The Hammer Molds Us, The File Sharpens Us, And The Fire Tempers Us.

It Is Certain That This Is Not Only Good Which The Almighty Has Done, But That It Is Best; He Hath Reckoned All Your Steps To Heaven.

You Will Not Get To Steal Quietly Into Heaven, Into Christ's Company, Without A Conflict And A Cross. I Find Crosses To Be Christ's Carved Work That He Marks Out For Us And That With Crosses He Portraits Us To His Own Image, Cutting Away Pieces Of Our Ill And Corruption. Lord Cut - Lord Carve - Lord Wound - Lord Do Anything That May Perfect Thy Father's Image In Us And Make Us Ready For Glory.

My Dear Brother, Let God Make Of You What He Will, He Will End All With Consolation, And Shall Make Glory Out Of Your Suffering.