This is the hymn the Lord gave me after I came to terms with not being able to continue the training, and this is what came again to me after the finality of what took place today hit me:
Not now, but in the coming years,
It may be when with Christ we stand,
We’ll read the meaning of our tears,
And there, sometime, we’ll understand.
We’ll catch the broken thread again,
And finish what we here began;
God will the mysteries explain,
And then, ah, then, we’ll understand.
We’ll know why clouds instead of sun
Were over many a cherished plan;
Why song has ceased when scarce begun;
’Tis then, sometime, we’ll understand.
Why what we long for most of all,
Eludes so oft our eager hand;
Why hopes are crushed and castles fall,
Till then, sometime, we’ll understand.
God knows the way, He holds the key,
He guides us with unerring hand;
Sometime with tearless eyes we’ll see;
Yes, then, ’tis then, we’ll understand.
Then trust in God through all thy days;
Fear not, for He doth hold thy hand;
Though dark thy way, still sing and praise,
Sometime, sometime, we’ll understand.
(The beautiful tune here)
But this time I have a bit of a different realisation.
I don’t need to know why. In fact, I don’t need to ask why. Since when did the Potter have to answer to the clay?
“…O man, who are you who answer back to God? Shall the thing molded say to him who molded it, Why did you make me thus?” (Romans 9:20)
God is God. His authority is supreme, and I choose to submit to it. I worship Him as God.
I also don’t need to understand. The only thing I need to know — and I do know — is that His heart is good toward us. Brother MS shared at Poland that we need to repent and believe. I choose to believe — that no mater what the sovereign God arranges for us, He has blessed us (Genesis 1:28).
But I do ask for healing — until there’s really no bitterness anywhere in my being toward Him or anyone else. And I ask for filling — because He who is faithful to strip away must also be faithful to fill with Himself.
Thou Breath from still eternity
Breathe o’er my spirit’s barren land—
The pine tree and the myrtle tree
Shall spring amid the desert sand;
And where Thy living water flows
The waste shall blossom as the rose.
(Full hymn here)