He Giveth . . .

A few weeks ago one of the men in our church sang this beautiful song and told a little about the author, Annie Johnson Flint.  I think learning some of the story behind the song makes it even more meaningful, so I trust that it will bless and encourage your heart.

Annie was born on Christmas Eve in the year 1866.  Shortly after Annie graduated from High School, arthritis began to appear.  She tried several doctors, but it steadily grew worse until it became difficult for her to walk at all.  Soon she had to give up her work, and there followed three years of increasing helplessness.

Arrangements were made for Annie to go to the Sanitarium at Clifton Springs, New York.  She finally received the verdict of the doctors at the Sanitarium that henceforth she would be a helpless invalid.
With a pen pushed through bent fingers, and held by swollen joints, she wrote with painfully distorted hands without any thought that it might be an avenue of ministry.  Her verses provided a solace for her in the long hours of suffering.  She spent about 40 years as a "shut-in" within the compass of four walls, with the occasional break of an excursion in an invalid chair.  Sometimes, for considerable periods, she had to have a trained nurse.

Like the Apostle Paul, she prayed for deliverance , but there came to her with real assurance the voice which said, "My grace is sufficient for thee.  My strength is made perfect in weakness."  She reached the place where she too could say with Paul, "Most gladly, therefore, will I rather glory in my infirmities that the power of Christ may rest upon me."  Perhaps that was when she wrote this beautiful poem which was later set to music.
     
     "God hath not promised skies always blue, flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain, joy without sorrow, peace without pain.
      But God hath promised strength for the day, rest from the labor, light for the way;
Grace for the trials, help from above, unfailing sympathy, undying love."

The last years of her life brought her no ease from her affliction, no lessening of pain and suffering.  Nine soft pillows were carefully arranged on the bed for use in protecting the exquisitely sensitive, pain-smitten body. No one but God and she knew what suffering she endured as the disease became worse with the passing of the years, and new complications developed.  But through it all, her faith in the goodness and mercy of God never wavered.  She was at all times able to say, "Thy Will be Done".
For more than 40 years there was hardly a day when she did not suffer pain.  For 37 years she had become increasingly helpless.  Every joint in her body had become rigid, although she was able to turn her head, and in great pain write a few lines on paper.
Her last words were: "I have nothing to say.  It's all right."  A few minutes later she had gone to be with Christ.  Sorrow, affliction, pain, suffering and death were ended forever!  One may well apply to her these words from the book of Revelation:  "These are they which came out of great tribulation and have washed their robes and have made them white in the blood of the Lamb."       

I trust that the words of this beautiful song will be a blessing and encouragement to your heart as they have been to mine many times through the years:

     "He giveth more grace when the burdens grow greater,
He sendeth more strength when the labors increase;
      To added affliction He addeth His mercy,
To multiplied trials His multiplied peace.

      When we have exhausted our store of endurance,
When our strength has failed ere the day is half done,
      When we reach the end of our hoarded resources,
Our Father's full giving is only begun.

      His love has no limit, His grace has no measure,
His power has no boundary known unto men;
      For out of His infinite riches in Jesus --
He giveth, and giveth, and giveth again!"