The Hands that Hold Me

Just when I think I can't endure any longer, God so graciously reminds me of His presence. Even in the most heart-wrenching trials, the knowledge that HE IS THERE just makes all the difference. He sees. He knows. He cares. As I read the poem below this morning, I was silenced and greatly affected by this sentence--"He saw but the fire-not the Master's hand, and questioned with anxious fears." Oh that has been me lately! Fixated on the fire and not on the hand that is holding me. That is governing it all. Fully aware. Full of love. I can rest, even in the midst of anxious longings, knowing I am being tenderly cared for. What sweet refuge we have in our Savior!! Let us lift our eyes from the fire to our Master's hand that is holding us and His eyes that are watching us. We are loved by a faithful God! "He sat by a fire of seven-fold heat, As He watched by the precious ore, And closer He bent with a searching gaze As He heated it more and more.   He knew He had ore that could stand the test, And He wanted the finest gold To mould as a crown for the King to wear, Set with gems with a price untold.   So He laid our gold in the burning fire, Tho' we fain would have said Him 'Nay,' And He watched the dross that we had not seen, And it melted and passed away.   And the gold grew brighter and yet more bright, But our eyes were so dim with tears, We saw but the fire--not the Master's hand, And questioned with anxious fears.   Yet our gold shone out with a richer glow, As it mirrored a Form above, That bent o'er the fire, tho' unseen by us, With a look of ineffable love.   Can we think that it pleases His loving heart To cause us a moment's pain? Ah, no! but He saw through the present cross The bliss of eternal gain.   So He waited there with a watchful eye, With a love that is strong and sure, And His gold did not suffer a bit more heat, Than was needed to make it pure."   (Streams in the Desert)