He sends us up the mount, but passes by;
The winds of stress surround with wretched cry
And rend our rocks of pride and certainty,
Which often yield amidst calamity.
Yet in it all, Jehovah is not found,
Nor is He in the quake that shakes the ground;
It brings us to our knees- we call in fear-
Our hope is gone, and still He is not here.
We doubt His very love- and this the fire,
Temptation that will burn us if we tire.
We see Him not, but all is there to prove
He never fails- that He is on the move;
These tests and trials, the coming of His choice,
The witness He is here- a still, small voice.
~:~X~:~
Author notes
This poem is based on I Kings 19:9-13, more specifically with verse 11 and 12.
It's been a long time since I've written a poem. The main reason for that is it's been a very difficult year for me- emotionally, physically, spiritually, etc.
More recently, I've really had an inner desire to get back into my Bible more, to hear God speak to me through His Word... And the phrase "a still small voice" popped into me head- the way God spoke to Elijah after he just slew 450 prophets of Baal on Mount Carmel, after one of the most significant spiritual victories in the Bible. Yet Elijah was fleeing Jezebel, and depressed about life.
I could slightly sympathize.
I decided to look up the specific verses, as well as look up information in my personal Matthew Henry Commentary. While reading, a few phrases stuck out to me. I'll make them bold so you can see them, too:
From Matthew Henry's Commentary:
IV. God's manifestation of himself to him. Did he come hither to meet with God? He shall find that God will not fail to give him the meeting. Moses was put into the cave when God's glory passed before him; but Elijah was called out of it: Stand upon the mount before the Lord, v. 11. He saw no manner of similitude, any more than Israel did when God talked to them in Horeb. But, 1. He heard a strong wind, and saw the terrible effects of it, for it rent the mountains and tore the rocks. Thus was the trumpet sounded before the Judge of heaven and earth, by his angels, whom he makes spirits, or winds (Ps. 104:4), sounded so loud that the earth not only rang, but rent again. 2. He felt the shock of an earthquake. 3. He saw an eruption of fire, v. 12. These were to usher in the designed manifestation of the divine glory, angels being employed in them, whom he maketh a flame of fire, and who, as his ministers, march before him, to prepare in this desert a highway for our God. But, 4. At last he perceived a still small voice, in which the Lord was, that is, by which he spoke to him, and not out of the wind, or the earthquake, or the fire. Those struck an awe upon him, awakened his attention, and inspired humility and reverence; but God chose to make known his mind to him in whispers soft, not in those dreadful sounds. When he perceived this, (1.) He wrapped hi face in his mantle, as one afraid to look upon the glory of God, and apprehensive that it would dazzle his eyes and overcome him. The angels cover their faces before God in token of reverence, Isa. 6:2. Elijah hid his face in token of shame for having been such a coward as to flee from his duty when he had such a God of power to stand by him in it. The wind, and earthquake, and fire, did not make him cover his face, but the still voice did. Gracious souls are more affected by the tender mercies of the Lord than by his terrors.
The idea that all those terrible things were mainly there to usher in the presense of God truly intrigued me. How many Christians in this world have gone THROUGH trials, feeling as if God wasn't there, only to see, not just His workings in the end, but HIM?
So, that's the thought I was going for in this poem.
Do you know where you're spending eternity? If not, ask me how you can know!
Comments
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Very Good Sister
Please take a look at my stuff we have a similar style in some ways. I hear the Scripture in your pen. please take a look at "Chosen", "Love","His Love",and "God Said" these are a few of my favorite scripture based poems. You can find them at user name Iron Saint. I also send out 1 poem a day on what I call the "Breadline" and if you E-mail me at ironsaints@live.com and request the Breadline I will add you to my daily E-mail. It is very simply just a poem and it is not spammy in any way just a simple ministry Christ has put on my heart. God Bless You my Sister.
Your Brother In Christ
Love James
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Magnificent!
This is the best write on the Lord I've seen in a mighty long time. Up to now I've been pretty disappointed in what I've read.
Then you wrote this.
I'll have to come back and read the commentary you copied in, but I definitely know the story you refer to, that inspired this.
Great work, sis!
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