“As a saint of God, my attitude toward sorrow and difficulty
should not be to ask that they be prevented, but to ask that God protect me so
that I may remain what He created me to be, in spite of all my fires of sorrow.
Our Lord received Himself, accepting His position and realizing His purpose, in
the midst of the fire of sorrow. He was saved not from the hour, but out
of the hour.”
-My Utmost For His Highest
Oswald Chambers
…what shall I say? "Father, save Me from
this hour"?
But for
this purpose I came to this hour. "Father, glorify Your name."
—John 12:27-28
Oh, but the real Fires of Sorrow comes later, after this life is over, after the wheat is separated eternally from the chaff. The real Fires of Sorrow are unknown to us who walk the earth with quickened flesh. While
we live and breathe, the tides of misery go in and out. ("This too, shall pass.") We each come to ourselves in a
dark wood where all straight ways are lost, but soon enough the Sun of
Righteousness shows its face again. When the eyes of our hearts see this Sun burning through the temporary gloom, we rejoice and have hope. Hope is a great theological hero of the soul, a virtue which guards against despair. While hope is the guarantor of spiritual life, despair is its death. Even if the good tree is sick or has suffered many grievous wounds, the life eternal may yet rise from its roots to make good fruit grow on its branches. Without hope keeping watch atop the high castellated wall of our hearts, we are food for despair. The real Fires of Sorrow are unquenchable, do not consume oxygen or produce ash.
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