Is it raining little flowers?
Be glad of the rain.
The sun that veils itself from thee
Will 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 things will grow
As flowers in rain.
God watches, and thou wilt have sun
When clouds their perfect work have done.
-Mary F. Butts. [Yeah that’s really her last name]
Every cross is turned into a crown, every burden becomes a blessing, every sacrifice becomes sacred and sublime from the moment that our Lord ans Redeemer writes on it, “For My sake.”
-Theodore Cuyler, D.D.