As Death Gives way to Victory

"...I'll see the lights of glory and I'll know He lives!"

Today, I was reading through the Daily Mail when I saw, and read, the most tragic report on Iraq.  The headline read "ISIS executes 19 girls for refusing to have sex with fighters."  I wanted to turn away, I wanted to close my eyes - I didn't want to read it. 

(read article here)

Yet, I couldn't turn a blind eye.

The article didn't specify how many, if any, of these girls were Christians, but the price list for buying a girl for such purposes, specifically mentions Christians.  I thought about those poor girls, so scared, so sickened, so alone.  I hope they all knew Christ as their Saviour.  Those who did are already with their Lord, their tears and sorrows have vanished, they are no longer dressed in earthly white robes, but in heavenly ones.  No one can touch them there.   

When I finished the article, I thought of the line of the hymn "As death gives way to Victory."  For those who are Christians, their death has turned to victory.  A Victory that ISIS can never comprehend.  A Victory that can never be lost.  

God sent His son, they called Him, Jesus;

He came to love, heal and forgive;

He lived and died to buy my pardon,

An empty grave is there to prove my Savior lives!

Chorus

Because He lives, I can face tomorrow,

Because He lives, all fear is gone;

Because I know He holds the future,

And life is worth the living,

Just because He lives!

And then one day, I'll cross the river,

I'll fight life's final war with pain;

And then, as death gives way to victory,

I'll see the lights of glory and I'll know He lives!

Transported I Rise

From the time I was little, my favorite line in this hymn was

"When clothed in his brightness, transported I rise,

To meet him in clouds of the sky,"

Until then, may we rejoice that we are hidden in the cleft of the rock.

~Ash

Reflections of the Master's Hand

I am certainly not the originator of this analogy, but somehow the reality of this sunk into my consciousness this time. I look at how little I am and how perfectly the trail of history behind me reflects His guidance.

Being held in the master's hand. I often revel in the pure security of being in His hand. God's hand. I can trust him, even when I don't trust him I am still in the security of the hand of God. How much greater is His plan than ours. I love looking back and seeing how what seemed to be so scary, perfectly fell into place, step by step. He has painted the picture that I can only see glimpses of... I can trust Him.

But perhaps you, like me, ask how can I trust others? God knows how I have struggled with trusting. Sometimes my fear has been so great it prompted instant and irrevocable decisions that hurt innocent people. "How can I trust others?" I ask."In light of what I know of Him, and his perfection and how little I trust Someone who deserves all my faith -- how can I trust others whom I know to be mere humans like myself?"

I do not have the answers, but this helped me understand...

The Memoirs of a Simple Violin

"I thought I felt like puddy in his hands. I realize now it is more like the feeling of being handled as a valuable violin in the hands of a musician taught by a master violinist. The musician's every motion was guided by the skill imparted to him by the Master. The Master who not only taught the musician , but the Master who made me --the simple violin that I am. How thankful I am that the musician is taught by the Master, for the Master loves me more than anyone.

The Master will always love this simple violin. He has a unique love for me because He made me--me the violin. The Master is teaching the musician to love me the way He loves me.

The musician sees the value of the violin, because it is the work of the Master. Any studied musician values a Stradivarius because of its sound, quality, beauty, and its name.

The Stradivarius bears the name of its maker, Antonio Stradivari. I am called my Master's name.

In the hands of the Master, I am formed and play, and move to my Master's music. In the hands of the Master I am completed and tried. I experience, through gentle, but sometimes painful, process. I don't always sing as I should. Sometimes I am out of tune.

Sometimes I squeak or grate in awkward sharp notes. My Master fine tunes me, tightens my strings, stretching my strings -- its uncomfortable. The Master made me for a purpose. Then the Master shows the musician, whom he made me for, how to tune and play the violin, so that I will sing for him too.....

....Sometimes, the musican makes mistakes and I vibrate with hurt. Pain. But I bravely quiver as the musican's bow catches on the stings. A loud I complain. "I AM not supposed to be played this way! This is not how my Master's music sounds!" .....

....I always marvel when my Master steps in. He gently takes the bow from the musician, and lifting me in His arms: He plays. Sweet the song of the Master.

I have seen many violins thrown or given away. A squeaky violin is not appreciated by a musician. I am always amazed when my complaints are graciously forgiven.

Cast off violins are often given to children to play with. A disobedient violin is of no use to the musician. The musician looks for one of greater value. But the Master always love the violin. Sometimes, although the Master loves the violin, He must put the stubborn violin in a different place. A stubborn violin can be of no use to the musician.

But a well-tuned violin is a beautiful and useful instrument. The Master places a fined tuned violin into the hands of a loving musician. The violin is loved by the Master and the musician alike....

...the orchestra, the conductor, and the audience love a violin made by the Master, played the the Master-taught musician. The violin cannot play itself. The violin must depend upon another.

We need others in our life. The Master made us. Can we not trust the Master to care for us even in the hands of others? The Master's love and wisdom is not limited. We can trust Him with the others in our lives. "

***

I really enjoyed the little picture of the violin. There was more to the story, which I didn't included. But the part that struck me in this story was this: I can not control what others do, but I can trust the God who made me.

Unfortunately, my laptop is out of commission.... :)

So, I cannot post all that I planned.

But I enjoyed these quotes by Emily Dickinson....

~ The Possible's slow fuse is lit by the Imagination

“I never saw a moor, I never saw the sea;

Yet know I how the heather looks,

And what a wave must be.

I never spoke with God, Nor visited in Heaven;

Yet certain am I of the spot, As if a chart were given.”

When all the world is looming dark

And things seem not so clear,

When shadows seem to hover 'round

Lord, may I persevere.

When it seems everything's been tried

And there's no way to go,

Just let me keep remembering

Sometimes the journey's slow.

I may just need to stop and rest

Along the path I trod,

A time to try to understand

And have my talk with God.

As I gain new strength to carry on

Without a doubt or fear,

Somehow I know things will be right,

And so, I persevere.

By Anne Stortz