Thursday, December 13, 2012

A Soft Pillow For a Weary Head

“For we which have believed do enter into rest…” (Hebrews 4:3)

            Many years ago, my husband had a message he entitled, A Soft Pillow for a Weary Head, using Romans 8:28 as his text. One of the ladies in the first church he pastored embroidered that verse on a pillowcase for him. Needless to say, he was thrilled with it, and because he chose to use it, rather than display it, after countless washings, we no longer have it. J

            I was reminded of this recently when I read a little poem from an unknown source. The rest of God is one of the chief benefits of faith, as far as I’m concerned. Faith can move mountains, as Matthew 21:21 says, but the need to move mountains doesn’t arise nearly as often as the need to trust God when circumstances are screaming for directionless action, or when pain seems to serve no meaningful purpose. Peter says in the first chapter of his first epistle, “Wherein ye greatly rejoice, though now for a season, if need be, ye are in heaviness…” Notice the three little words, “if need be.” When Jesus said our Heavenly knows what we need, He didn’t just mean the good things, but the seemingly bad, as well (Matt. 6 & Luke 12). We can be sure that whatever God gives you and me will be exactly what we need. That’s where faith in the goodness of God comes in, followed by the promised rest of heart, soul…and head.

            Here now is the poem of which I spoke. I hope it speaks to your heart as much as it did my own. And by the way, were I someone gifted in the maidenly art of embroidery, I think I would make for myself a pillowcase with only one word on it: FAITH.  

Helpless tonight, and weary
  Almost too tired to speak,
Now on faith’s downy pillow
  I lay my fevered cheek;
I have a mighty Keeper,
  Loving, compassionate, true;
Only to rest, He tells me,
  Is all I need to do.                                                                                                                                                                  

Pain has been my companion
  Many a night and day;
Often the gathering shadows
  Seemed to surround my way.
Yet I press on, not fearing,
  My Father knoweth best;
I leave to Him the planning,
  And on Faith’s pillow rest.           

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