The sharp sting of your present trial has been laid upon my heart, and I would speak a word in season to your weary spirit. You are in deep distress, your body racked with such pain that sleep seems a mercy far off, and fear whispers that this may be your end. But hearken, this is not the hour for despair. The Lord has said, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people,” and He sends that comfort now through the remembrance of His faithful Word.
You crave rest, and you may have it even while your body is in turmoil. Our Lord Jesus calls, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Mark that word: it is a present rest, given there and then to the one who comes. Not a rest after death alone, but a rest found in trusting Him now. Your exhaustion is great, yet there is a repose of soul that can be yours on the wing, a rest in motion, a rest in service, even as you lie prostrate. Let but your mind be like the mind of Christ in meek submission, and you shall find rest unto your soul; a deep rest, abiding rest, which you will go on to find more and more.
You think you are dying; but what if you were? For the child of God, death is but the entrance into an eternal Sabbath. Yet I would not have you to fear that this is your last hour. Our times are in His hands, and He has not appointed this to cast you off, but to quicken you. “This is my comfort in my affliction: for thy word hath quickened me.” The Lord often quickens us by these very trials, and so imparts a comfort that a smooth path could never yield. He does not always give the comfort we ask for by a distinct act; He quickens us, and so we obtain comfort. That sharp pain, that fevered flush, can be a means to stir up your soul to cling more tightly to the Invisible One.
I bid you look to the healing leaves of the Tree of Life. It is written, “The leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.” Not alone the rich fruit, but the very leaves, the least things about Christ, are full of healing virtue. One touch of faith upon the hem of His garment, one whispered cry of “Lord, help me,” and virtue flows forth. He knows your sufferings, for He endured the cross and is touched with the feeling of our infirmities. His omniscience is your comfort: He sees the liquid pain, the frantic pulse, the burning face, and He is not unmoved.
Seek also the earthly helps which wisdom dictates: a cooling draught, the counsel of a physician, for the Lord works by means. But above all, cast your soul upon Him. Trust and you shall rest. “I will trust, and not be afraid,” is the song of the delivered. You will forget this misery, and remember it as waters that pass away. The rod of the wicked shall not rest upon the lot of the righteous; this affliction is but for a moment.
Come, then, weary child, and find your rest in Jesus. He who stilled the storm on Galilee can speak peace to your racing heart. Breathe His name, lean upon His bosom, and soon you shall lie down in safety, for there is hope. May the Lord grant you the sweet sleep of the beloved, and in that slumber, may your soul be stayed on Him.
Prayer Focus: God, Thank You for loving me. Thank You for loving me, Jesus. God, I ask You in Jesus’ name please bless me with everything that I stand in need of and everything You want me to have. 
