Streams in the Desert (Volume 2-Charles Cowman)

 

“Ang mga ito’y mga magpapalayok at mga taga-Netaim at Gedera. Doo’y naninirahan sila na kasama ng hari para sa kanyang gawain.” 1 Cronica 4:23 ABB

Maaari tayong manirahan kahit saan “kasama ng hari para sa kanyang gawain.” Maaaring hindi maganda ang lugar na kinaroroonan natin; sa isang malayong probinsya na halos parang walang ginagawa ang Hari sa paligid natin; maaaring sa isang lugar na napapalibutan ng lahat ng uri ng kasukalan at mga hadlang saan man tayo tumingin; at dagdag pa rito, maaaring ito’y sa isang lugar na kung saan ay gumagawa pa tayo ng kung anu-anong paghuhulma sa araw-araw nating pamumuhay.

Hindi na bale! Ang Hari na naglagay sa atin sa lugar na iyon ay dadating at mananahan doon kasama natin; tama lamang para sa atin ang mga kasukalan, o kung hindi man, ay tiyak na agad Niyang aalisin ang mga ito. At hindi naman ibig sabihin na hindi tayo maiingatan ng kasukalang ito; at tungkol naman sa mga araw-araw na mga “paghuhulma” natin, aba, ang mga ito ang tamang-tama lamang na gawaing ibinigay Niya sa atin, at kung gayon, sa kasalukuyan, “Ito ang kanyang gawain.” Frances Ridley Havergal.

“Mahal ko, bumalik ka sa hardin!/ Bumalik ka doon hanggang sa pagkagat ng dilim,/ At talian mo ang mga lirio at pasunurin ang mga baging,/ Hanggang sa ang Guro, ikaw ay tawagin.//

“Pagandahin mo ang hardin hanggang sa iyong makakaya,/ Hinding-hindi ka gumagawang nag-iisa;/ Marahil siya na katabi mo lamang na naglilinang / may ari din ng hardin at siyang magbabantay”//

Ang makukulay na mga paglubog ng araw at ang kalangitan na hitik sa mga bituin, ang magagandang kabundukan at maningning na karagatan, ang mababangong kagubatan at makukulay na bulaklak, ay hindi pa rin kasing-ganda ng isang kaluluwang naglilingkod kay Jesus dahil sa pagmamahal sa Kanya, sa kalagitnaan ng kahirapan at pagdurusa na kalakip ng pangkaraniwang buhay at buhay na hindi maisasa-tula. Faber

Ang mga pinaka-banal na kalooban ay naroroon sa mga hindi man lamang kinilala ang kanilang mga sarili bilang mga manlilikha, o doon sa mga hindi man lang nag-iwan ng monumento ng sarili upang mapag-usapan ng mundo; kundi naroroon sa mga namumuhay tulad ng mga anghel, namumulaklak nang walang nakakakita gaya ng babagong namumukadkad na lirio sa baradong lambak sa pampang ng batisang marumi ang tubig – Kenelm Digby

JCB November 2007

http://www.english-to-tagalog.com/EnglishtoTagalog.com

“These were the potters, and those that dwelt among plants and hedges: there they dwelt with the king for his work.” (1 Chron 4:23)

Anywhere and everywhere, we may “dwell with the king for his work.” We may be in a very unlikely and unfavorable place for this; it may be in a literal country life, with little enough to be seen of the “goings” of the King around us; it may be among the hedges of all sorts, hindrances in all directions; it may be furthermore, with our hands full of all manner of pottery for our daily task.

No matter! The King who placed us “there” will come and dwell there with us; the hedges are right, or He would soon do away with them. And it does not follow that what seems to hinder our way may not be for its very protection; and as for the pottery, why, that is just exactly what He has seen fit to put into our hands, and therefore it is, for the present, “his work.” – Frances Ridley Havergal.

“Go back to they garden plot, sweetheart!/ Go back till the evening falls,/ and bind thy lilies and train thy vines,/Till for thee the Master calls.

“Go make they garden fair as thou canst,/Thou workest never alone;/ Perhaps he wholse plot is next to thine/ Will see it and mend his own.”

The colored sunsets and starry heavens, the beautiful mountains and the shining seas, the fragrant woods and painted flowers, are not half so beautiful as a soul that is serving Jesus out of love, in the wear and tear of common, unpoetic life. – Faber

The most saintly spirits are often existing in those who have never distinguished themselves as authors, or left any memorial of themselves to be the theme of the world’s talk; but who have led and interior angelic life, having borne their sweet blossoms unseen like the young lily in a sequestered vale on the bank of a limpid stream – Kenelm Digby.

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