Saturday, January 23, 2016

          Men have their sorrows,
          Men have their cares;
          So, heir of God,
          Trust in the Lord:
          It’s better higher up!

          Age has it’s burdens,
          Age has it’s fears;
          So, heir of God,
          Believe the Lord:
          It’s better higher up!

          Earth has her battles,       
          Earth has her strife;       
          So, heir of God,        
          Lean on the Lord:   
          It’s better higher up!

          Yes, it’s better higher up!
          God’s on His throne above;
          So, heir of God,
          Praise Christ the Lord:
          It’s better higher up!
                                                           M. Robbins

....God sent forth his Son, made of a woman, made under the law, To redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.  And because ye are sons, God hath sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, Abba, Father.  Wherefore thou art no more a servant, but a son; and if a son, then an heir of God through Christ.  Gal 4:4-7

     Not long ago there lived an old bed ridden saint, and a Christian lady who visited her found her always very cheerful.  This visitor had a lady friend of wealth who constantly looked on the dark side of things, and was always cast down although she was a professed Christian.  She thought it would do this lady good to see the bed ridden saint, so she took her down to the house.  She lived up in the garret, five stories up, and when they had got to the first story the lady drew up her dress and said, "How dark and filthy it is!"
     "It's better higher up," said her friend. 
     They got to the next story, and it was no better; the lady complained again, but her friend replied, "It’s better higher up."
     At the third floor it seemed still worse, and the lady kept complaining, but her friend kept saying, "It's better higher up."
     At last they got to the fifth story, and when they went into the sickroom, there was a nice carpet on the floor, there were flowering plants in the window, and little birds singing.  And there they found this bed ridden saint—one of those saints whom God is polishing for his own temple—just beaming with joy. 
     The lady said to her, "It must be very hard for you to lie here."
     She smiled, and said, "It’s better higher up."
     Yes!  And if things go against us, my friends, let us remember that "it's better higher up."
                                                                                                                                      Dwight L. Moody

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