From time to time, we all experience what it’s like to be the recipients of what we usually term, bad news. On Sunday past, I dealt with Philippians 1:19-26, most of which is given over to how Paul viewed life and death. There were some solemn thoughts, but they are real issues.
Today then, I came across the following poem, penned by one of the most pious men of recent centuries, Robert Murray M’Cheyne.
He tenderly binds up the broken in heart,
The soul bowed down He will raise:
For mourning, the ointment of joy will impart:
For heaviness, garments of praise.
Ah, come, then, and sing to the praise of our God,
Who giveth and taketh away;
Who first by his kindness, and then by his rod,
Would teach us, poor sinners, to pray.
For in the assembly of Jesus’ first-born,
Who anthems of gratitude raise,
Each heart has by great tribulation been torn,
Each voice turned from wailing to praise.
He also penned two of my favourite hymns, ‘Jehovah Tsidkenu‘ and ‘When This Passing World Is Done‘. Strange that someone who dealt so frequently with death should die aged 29.