-Some 200 years ago, Madame Guyon, spent ten years in a dungeon.
-She was far below the surface of the ground.
-The only light she saw was of a candle at meal times.
-Now, think with me for a moment, what would you have said to God if you had been in a dark dungeon for ten years?
-What would your attitude be towards His providencial watchcare?
Here is what she wrote:
"A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air;
Yet in my cage I sit and sing, To Him who placed me there;
Well pleased a prisoner to be,
Because, my God, it pleases Thee.
Nought have I else to do, I sing the whole day long;
And He whom most I love to please, Doth listen to my song;
He caught and bound my wandering wing
But still He bends to hear me sing.
My cage confines me round; Abroad I cannot fly;
But though my wing is closely bound,
My heart's at liberty.
My prison walls cannot control,
The flight, the freedom of the soul.
Ah! It is good to soar
These bolts and bars above.
To Him whose purpose I adore,
Whose Providence I love;
And in Thy mighty will to find,
The joy, the freedom of the mind."
The Preacher to his tribe.