Love Gladdens

“The grace of final perseverance is that quality of patience which is always equal to the pressure of the passing moment, because it is rooted in that eternal order over which the passing moment has no power.

“We have an Indian fern whose frond changes as it grows. As the forces of life play upon it and work within it, each little pinna divides and subdivides till, in the end, the frond is a fan of delicate lace, a feathery fan.

“What has been the effect upon him of all the trouble?” We ask a guest who has been telling us of her father, and of how he suffered from injustice.  “It has left him unable to think an unkind thought of anyone,”  she answered.  The frond of that fern had been perfected.

“”If the wear and tear of life on a soul does not make for beauty, the process of the fern is reversed.  The multitude of insignificant, trying things that are sure to come fret it into a ragged selfishness; and rough blows coarsen its texture.  Or if it be otherwise fashioned it reacts to the touch like a jarred sea anemone, gathering itself within itself.  Then (unlike the anemone, which, if left in peace, opens again) the jarred soul gradually closes completely, and hardens, till it acquires the power to jar others even as it was jarred.  So there is loss.  Fellow [friends], who were meant to meet, pass each other coldly.  They do not even recognize each other as members of one family.  Each is frozen in his own ice.  But the love of God shed abroad in our hearts (not filtered through various screens) can melt us and love us out of fretfulness, and out of hardness.  It was said of one who lived in this life, “Love gladdened him.  Love quickened him.  Love set him free.”  Love sets us free to love.  And having been set free it is impossible to be bound any more.”  --Amy Carmichael

Vignette of a loving heart, taken from a description of Elisabeth Prentiss, whose anniversary of passing from this life into the presence of the Divine Lover is this very weekend:

“That was, perhaps, her chiefest charm: a keen eye to see and a true heart to sympathize and love.  She was absolutely sincere, and no one could help feeling that she was so.  We felt ourselves fairly imaged when standing before her, as in a clear mirror.  There were no distorted lines caused by her own imperfections; for although she considered herself "compassed with infirmity”, no one else could take such a view of her, but only saw the abundant charity which could cover and forgive a multitude of failings in others.  We felt that if there was any good in us, she knew it, and even when she saw us with all our faults she loved us still, and loved to do us good.”  --More Love to Thee, Life and Letters

Would it be so that in my lifetime I would be the frond of fern that divides and subdivides a heart into love upon love that touches with encouragement and beautifying power, each person my life touches.  How often I feel the human tug of will; yet Christ in me is all power to transform and to touch and delight others.  I need not love in my weak power.  I can love others in His power—what a thought!