Chrysostom
Beloved of All
The body racked with pain and the eyes held open by the stifling night, these are trials that weigh down the spirit and make the heart cry out for relief. Do not think such afflictions are forgotten by God; He sees the tossing and the discomfort, and He allows them not without purpose. For as heat tries the strength of the body, so does God often use bodily weakness to teach the soul its dependence on Him and to call us away from the deceitfulness of worldly comfort. I would have you consider the Apostle’s word to Timothy, that faithful servant whose stomach was oftentimes infirm, and who labored under frequent sicknesses. Paul did not instantly command a miracle, but gave a gentle instruction: “Use a little wine for thy stomach’s sake.” So you also, while you pray, do not neglect the simple remedies that nature provides. Seek rest when you can, take what soothes the belly, and commit the outcome to the Lord. Even the holiest saints have known the discipline of the body.
Yet let not your chief care be for the flesh alone. Recall the words of our Lord to the man He healed at the pool: “Behold, thou art made whole; sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee.” I do not charge you with a particular fault, but I urge you to use this season of weakness to examine your heart. Sleeplessness can become a chapel for prayer; when the world is still, lift your thoughts to the Judge of all, who works justice in due time. You cry for God’s battles to be fought, leave them in His hand, for vengeance is His, and the battle is not yours but the Lord’s. Your part is to take His yoke upon you and learn His meekness and lowliness of heart; then you shall find rest for your soul even when the body lies awake. The rest that remains for the people of God is not merely the morning’s refreshing, but that eternal sabbath where no heat disturbs and no pain assaults, and where sorrow and sighing flee away.
So let your small afflictions now be a medicine for the soul, producing that godly grief which the world knows not, and which blossoms into a joy that cannot fade. I trust you will soon wake to a day of blessing, surrounded by the love of friends and the felt presence of Jesus. But whether you wake rested or weary, know that His grace is sufficient and His yoke is kind. Count every restless hour as an offering, and every pang of the stomach as a reminder that here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come. May God grant you healing and the peace that passes understanding.
Yet let not your chief care be for the flesh alone. Recall the words of our Lord to the man He healed at the pool: “Behold, thou art made whole; sin no more, lest a worse thing come unto thee.” I do not charge you with a particular fault, but I urge you to use this season of weakness to examine your heart. Sleeplessness can become a chapel for prayer; when the world is still, lift your thoughts to the Judge of all, who works justice in due time. You cry for God’s battles to be fought, leave them in His hand, for vengeance is His, and the battle is not yours but the Lord’s. Your part is to take His yoke upon you and learn His meekness and lowliness of heart; then you shall find rest for your soul even when the body lies awake. The rest that remains for the people of God is not merely the morning’s refreshing, but that eternal sabbath where no heat disturbs and no pain assaults, and where sorrow and sighing flee away.
So let your small afflictions now be a medicine for the soul, producing that godly grief which the world knows not, and which blossoms into a joy that cannot fade. I trust you will soon wake to a day of blessing, surrounded by the love of friends and the felt presence of Jesus. But whether you wake rested or weary, know that His grace is sufficient and His yoke is kind. Count every restless hour as an offering, and every pang of the stomach as a reminder that here we have no continuing city, but we seek one to come. May God grant you healing and the peace that passes understanding.
