“Challenge Thy Mountain”

Living in Almaty, Kazakhstan to the north of the mountains that border Kyrgyzstan we have the everyday occasion to see the beauty of the mountains every day.  I am challenged by them and I know others have taken on the challenge of conquering them by crossing over to Kyrgyzstan.  Here is a challenge issued in Streams in the Desert:

Say to this mountain, “Go,
Be cast into the sea;”
And doubt not in thine heart
That it shall be to thee.
It shall be done, doubt not His Word,
Challenge thy mountain in the Lord!

Claim thy redemption right,
Purchased by precious blood;
The Trinity unite
To make it true and good.
It shall be done, obey the Word,
Challenge thy mountain in the Lord!

Self, sickness, sorrow, sin,
The Lord did meet that day
On His beloved One,
And thou art “loosed away.”
It has been done, rest on His Word,
Challenge thy mountain in the Lord!

Compass the forwning wall
With silent prayer, then raise–
Before its ramparts fall–
The victor’s shout of praise.
It shall be done, faith rests assured,
Challenge thy mountain in the Lord!

The two-leaved gates of brass,
The bars of iron yield,
To let the faithful pass,
Conquerors in every field.
It shall be done, the foe ignored,
Challenge thy mountains in the Lord!

Take then the faith of God,
Free from the taint of doubt;
The miracle-working rod
That casts all reasoning out.
It shall be done, stand on the Word,
Challenge thy mountain in the Lord!

Kazakhstan is your place

Just where you stand in the conflict,
There is your place.
Just where you think you are useless,
Hide not your face.
God placed you there for a purpose,
Whate’ever it be;
Think He has chosen you for it;
Work loyally.
Gird on your armor! Be faithful
At toil or rest!
Whate’er it be, never doubting
God’s way is best.
Out in the fight or on picket,
Stand firm and true;
This is the work which your Master
Gives you to do.

 

Early a.m. rain “standing” in mountains

I took this photo the other day, our mountain view seems to be different every day just depending on the time and season. Today is the FIRST day of summer, but you wouldn’t know it since we have had hot, summery days for the last couple of months.  The following poem is selected from Streams in the Desert.

“STAND STILL,” my soul, for so thy Lord commands:
E’en when thy way seems blocked, leave it in His wise hands;
His arm is mighty to divide the wave.
“Stand still,” my soul, “Stand still” and thou shalt see
How God can work the “impossible” for thee,
For with a great deliverance He doth save.

Be not impatient, but in stillness stand,
Even when compassed ’round on every hand,
In ways thy spirit does not comprehend.
God cannot clear thy way till thou art still,
That He may work in thee His blessed will,
And all thy heart and will to Him do bend.

“BE STILL,” my soul, for just as thou art still,
Can God reveal Himself to thee; until
Through thee His love and light and life can freely flow;
In stillness God can work through thee and reach
The souls around thee. He then through thee can teach
His lessons, and His power in weakness show.

“BE STILL”–a deeper step in faith and rest.
“Be still and know” thy Father knoweth best
The way to lead His child to that fair land,
A “summer” land, where quiet waters flow;
Where longing souls are satisfied, and “know
Their God,” and praise for all that He has planned.

“Be Still! Just now be still!”

“Be still! Just now be still!
Something thy soul hath never heard,
Something unknown to any song of bird,
Something unkonwn to any wind, or wave, or star,
A message from the Fatherland afar,
That with sweet joy the homesick soul shall thrill,
Cometh to thee if thou canst but be still.

Be still! Just now be still!
There comes a presence very mild and sweet;
White are the sandals of His noiseless feet.
It is the Comforter whom Jesus sent
To teach thee what the words He uttered meant.
The willing, waiting spirit, He doth fill.
If thou would’st hear His message,
Dear soul, be still!”

 

Songs Across the Storm

“A harp stood in the moveless air,
Where showers of sunshine washed a thousand fragrant blooms;
A traveler bowed with loads of care
Essayed from morning till the dusk of evening glooms
To thrum sweet sounds from the songless strings;
The pilgrim strives in vain with each unanswering chord,
Until the tempest’s thunder sings,
And, moving on the storm, the fingers of the Lord
A wondrous melody awakes;
And though the battling winds their soldier deeds perform,
Their trumpet-sound brave music makes
While God’s assuring voice sings love across the storm.”

“It Isn’t Raining Rain for Me”

Yesterday we took an excursion with my friend Yelena to Big Almaty Lake, it was overcast and once to the top, it started to rain.  That helped to keep the dusty roads dampened down once we made our jolting ride back to civilization.  The flowers I picked were familiar like forget-me-nots and a kind of sweet pea, the others were not. 

“It isn’t raining rain for me, it’s raining daffodils;
In every dimpling drop I see wild flowers upon the hills.
A cloud of gray engulfs the day, and overwhelms the town;
It isn’t raining rain for me: it’s raining roses down.”

 

“All things are possible…”

A quote from Charles H. Spurgeon fits how we are surviving and what we are doing in Kazakhstan:

“Oh, then, Christian, watch well thy faith.  ‘If thou canst believe, all things are possible to him that believeth.’”

Another quote about faith is from Dan Crawford:

“We boast of being so practical a people that we want to have a surer thing than faith. But did not Paul say that the promise was by FAITH that it might be SURE?” (Romans 4:16)

Faith honors God; God honors faith.

“My Peace I Give…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

My peace I give in times of deepest grief,
Imparting calm and trust and My relief.

My peace I give when prayer seems lost, unheard;
Know that My promises are ever in My Word.

My peace I give when thou art left alone–
The nightingale at night has sweetest tone.

My peace I give in time of utter loss,
The way of glory right to the cross.

My peace I give when enemies will blame,
Thy fellowship is sweet through cruel shame.

My peace I give in agony and sweat,
For mine own brow with bloody drops was wet.

My peace I give when nearest friend betrays–
Peace that is merged in love, and for them prays.

My peace I give when there’s but death for thee–
The gateway is the cross to get to Me.

L.S.P. from Streams in the Desert

“Is it Raining, Little Flower?”

Is it raining, little flower?
Be glad of rain;
Too much sun would wither thee;
‘Twill shine again.
The clouds are very black, ’tis true;
But just behind them shines the blue.

Art thou weary, tender heart?
Be glad of pain:
In sorrow sweetest virtues grow,
As flowers in rain.
God watches, and thou wilt have sun,
When clouds their perfect work have done.

Lucy Larcom

“God Meant it Unto Good”

God meant it unto good”—O blest assurance,
Falling like sunshine all across life’s way,
Touching with Heaven’s gold earth’s darkest storm clouds,
Bringing fresh peace and comfort day by day.

’Twas not by chance the hands of faithless brethren
Sold Joseph captive to a foreign land;
Nor was it chance which, after years of suffering,
Brought him before the monarch’s throne to stand.

One Eye all-seeing saw the need of thousands,
And planned to meet it through that one lone soul;
And through the weary days of prison bondage
Was working towards the great and glorious goal.

As yet the end was hidden from the captive,
The iron entered even to his soul;
His eye could scan the present path of sorrow,
Not yet his gaze might rest upon the whole.

Faith failed not through those long, dark days of waiting,
His trust in God was recompensed at last,
The moment came when God led forth his servant
To succour many, all his sufferings past.

“It was not you but God, that sent me hither,”
Witnessed triumphant faith in after days;

“God meant it unto good,” no “second causes”
Mingled their discord with his song of praise.

 

”God means it unto good” for thee, beloved,
The God of Joseph is the same today;
His love permits afflictions strange and bitter,
His hand is guiding through the unknown way.

Thy Lord, who sees the end from the beginning,
Hath purposes for thee of love untold.
Then place thy hand in His and follow fearless,
Till thou the riches of His grace behold.

There, when thou standest in the Home of Glory,
And all life’s path lies open to thy gaze,
Thine eyes shall SEE the hand which now thou trustest,
And magnify His love through endless days.

Freda Hanbury Allen