Comfort ye, comfort ye, this aching soul who cries out in the night. The Lord has not forgotten your ###, nor has He forgotten you in this bitter hour. Two months ago death entered your family; now sickness has come again, and it seems a nightmare without waking. But hear the word of the Lord: "This is my comfort in my affliction, for Your Word has quickened me." The outward comfort is the promise of God, but the inward comfort is the quickening of the Spirit. You need more than a change in circumstance; you need the life of God to surge through your soul. The roundabout way is often the straight way with Him. He does not always lift the trial at once, but He quickens us, and so we are comforted.
You say this feels like a nightmare. Yet even in dreams of horror, the morning comes. Time is a wonderful healer, but faith is a better one. "You shall forget your misery, and remember it as waters that pass away." The day will dawn when this present terror fades like a flood that has spent its fury. But do not wait for time alone to do its slow work. Press this promise to your bosom and say, "This is my comfort." Not the comfort you hope to have tomorrow, but this which you may have now. The Word of God stands fast. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. His very leaves are for healing. The least thing about Him drips with medicine for the soul. If you cannot grasp the great doctrines, lay hold of the hem of His garment. The smallest touch of faith draws virtue from Him.
Yet let me say plainly: comfort alone is not enough. Comfort must be married to constancy, or it becomes a soft bed for spiritual sloth. You are tempted now to despair, to question, to grow faint in the day of adversity. But remember, "God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it." This affliction is not the destroyer you fear; it is a messenger with a peculiar comfort tucked within its dark coat. Seek that comfort not in mere relief, but in being established in every good word and work. Let this trial drive you to prayer. It was little prayer that brought you down; it is great prayer that will lift you up. Cry out, "My Father, will You not comfort my heart? My Father, will You let Your child despond?" He will not cast you out. You belong to His family, and the plea of adoption is mightier than the cry of your sorrow.
The anchor is cast overboard. You felt the slip in the night and started with fear, but the anchor is holding fast to the bedrock of Christ’s finished work. He died to redeem just such souls as yours. O you of little faith, why do you doubt? The bruised reed He will not break, and the smoking flax He will not quench. Your ### lies in the hands of the Great Physician. He is Master of every disease. And should the worst come, should death visit again, your soul will leap away from death into eternal life in a moment. That is solid comfort, not a dream. It is the substance of things hoped for. Take it now. Chew upon it. Let it change the lifeblood of your hope. The faces in heaven owe their freshness to these healing leaves. Look to the Tree of Life, and find your cure.