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他正要充滿肚腹的時候,神必將猛烈的忿怒降在他身上;正在他吃飯的時候,要將這忿怒像雨降在他身上。 23 When he has filled his belly, God will vent his burning anger against him and rain down his blows upon him.
他的財寶歸於黑暗;人所不吹的火要把他燒滅,要把他帳棚中所剩下的燒毀。 26 total darkness lies in wait for his treasures. A fire unfanned will consume him and devour what is left in his tent.
他的家產必然過去;神發怒的日子,他的貨物都要消滅。 28 A flood will carry off his house, rushing waters 20:28 Or ((The possessions in his house will be carried off, washed away)) on the day of God's wrath.
November 11 "He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass." (Psalm 72:6) AMOS speaks of the king's mowings. Our King has many scythes, and is perpetually mowing His lawns. The musical tinkle of the whetstone on the scythe portends the cutting down of myriads of green blades, daisies and other flowers. Beautiful as they were in the morning, within an hour or two they lie in long, faded rows. Thus in human life we make a brave show, before the scythe of pain, the shears of disappointment, the sickle of death. There is no method of obtaining a velvety lawn but by repeated mowings; and there is no way of developing tenderness, evenness, sympathy, but by the passing of God's scythes. How constantly the Word of God compares man to grass, and His glory to its flower! But when grass is mown, and all the tender shoots are bleeding, and desolation reigns where flowers were bursting, it is the most acceptable time for showers of rain falling soft and warm. O soul, thou hast been mown! Time after time the King has come to thee with His sharp scythe. Do not dread the scythe-it is sure to be followed by the shower. -F. B. Meyer. "When across the heart deep waves of sorrow Break, as on a dry and barren shore; When hope glistens with no bright tomorrow, And the storm seems sweeping evermore; "When the cup of every earthly gladness Bears no taste of the life-giving stream; And high hopes, as though to mock our sadness,, Fade and die as in some fitful dream, "Who shall hush the weary spirit's chiding? Who the aching void within shall fill? Who shall whisper of a peace abiding, And each surging billow calmly still? "Only He whose wounded heart was broken With the bitter cross and thorny crown; Whose dear love glad words of joy had spoken, Who His life for us laid meekly down. "Blessed Healer, all our burdens lighten; Give us peace, Thine own sweet peace, we pray! Keep us near Thee till the morn shall brighten, And all the mists and shadows flee away!"