It
comes in manifold forms. Now it is in sickness; the body is racked
with pain or burns in fever. Ofttimes sickness is a heavy burden. Yet
even this burden has a blessing in it for the Christian. Sickness
rightly borne makes us better. It unbinds the world's fetters. It
purifies the heart. It sobers the spirit. It turns the eyes
heavenward. It strips off much of the illusion of life and uncovers
its better realities. Sickness in a home of faith, prayer, and love,
softens all the household hearts, makes sympathy deeper, draws all the
family closer together.
Trouble comes in many other forms. It may be a bitter disappointment
which falls upon a young life when love has not been true, or when
character has proved unworthy, turning the fair blossoms of hope to
dead leaves under the feet. There are lives that bear the pain and
carry the hidden memorials of such a grief through long years, making
them sad at heart even when walking in sweetest sunshine.
Or it may be the failure of some other hope, as when one has followed a
bright dream of ambition for days and years, finding it only a dream.
Or it may be the keener, more bitter grief which comes to one when a
friend--a child, a brother or sister, a husband or wife--does badly.
In such a case even the divine comfort cannot heal the heart's hurt;
love cannot but suffer, and there is no hand that can lessen the pang.
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