How to rest on thorns

I recently came across this poem by lifelong missionary to the poorest of the poor, Amy Carmichael, who suffered chronic, debilitating pain from a tragic fall until the day of her death:

Thou hast not that, My child, but thou hast Me;

And am not I alone enough for thee?

I know it all, know how thy heart was set

Upon this joy which is not given yet.

And well I know how through the wistful days

Thou walkest all the dear familiar ways

As unregarded as a breath of air;

But there in love and longing, always there.

I know it all; but from thy brier shall blow

A rose for others. If it were not so

I would have told thee.  Come, then, say to Me:

My Lord, my Love, I am content with Thee.

For those who understand deep, earthly pain - external and internal - these words can be comforting, if we allow them to be. Our circumstances may not change this side of heaven. But when we hide ourselves and delight ourselves in Christ alone, we will always have what we need. And we will have more - much more - than enough because pain and heartache draws our attention away from this broken world and to eternity, our true and perfect home where joy and rest will be unending! What a tremendous gift! Such hope is contagious, and truly does result in a rose rising from those briers that will help so many others who are struggling too (who isn’t in some way, right?).

Can you find contentment and rest now, even in the briers?

Amy Carmichael’s poem reminded me of a poem that I wrote a number of years ago. It is below. I pray it leads you to consider finding contentment in all circumstances, and that you would dare to embrace the thorns of this life, where your heart can be transformed and transcend to eternity in ways impossible if things went well all the time. Treasures in heaven leads to peace on earth!

Rest in the Thorns

Assured I find rest among the thorns in the brush,

where man nor beast dares to come.

Fearful thoughts try to enter, but I tell them to hush,

and their loud mouths are dumbed.

Can it be? All is quiet in this den, once cursed,

its dirt once worked by human hands;

and now in salvation hymns well-versed,

sanctity comes slowly to the land.

Redemption in the briers is what I find in the peace

that no one dares to invade.

Discomfort is rampant, but my prayers don’t cease;

I will not be betrayed.

I know I alone have this knowledge from venture;

I gained wisdom through a leap

of faith into the place no one braved, no one entered;

they said blindness sowed is agony reaped.

But I say my blindness is why I have rest

amidst the brush full of thorns,

where I alone dared to put my hope to the test,

and was fully transformed.

The pain of this place means nothing to me anymore,

because I hear a sweet voice

in the heart of these briers and thorns,

saying I made the right choice.

No greater blessing than this peace may I obtain

in this place I have found,

in this sanctuary of both joy and of pain,

where sin abounds.

But I live for purpose, not for favors,

and for that I am free

to rest in these thorns and to savor,

thoughts of eternity.