My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say unto me, Where is thy God? When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holyday. Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.
Yet the LORD will command his lovingkindness in the daytime, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life.
Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted within me? hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.
Canst thou answer this, believer?
Canst thou find any reason why thou art so often mourning instead of rejoicing?
Why yield to gloomy anticipations?
Who told thee the night would never end in day?
Who told thee that the winter of thy discontent would proceed from frost to frost, from snow and ice, and hail, to deeper snow , and yet more heavy tempest of despair?
Knowest thou not that day follows night, that flood comes after ebb, that spring and summer succeed winter?
Hope thou then!
Hope thou ever! for God fails thee not.
Hopeful . . . Today
With my prayers, desiring yours, Leslie