What God Has Promised

I was thinking this morning about how I so often number my trials instead of my blessings. How quick and easy it is to start making a list of all the things that go wrong but how long it takes to make a list of things for which to be grateful.

One of my friends just lost her sister in law who died unexpectedly. My friend is grieving so much, and my heart breaks for her. When I am in need of comfort, I often think of the hymn, "What God Hath Promised" by Annie Johnson Flint.

God hath not promised skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways all our lives through;
God hath not promised sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow, peace without pain.


But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.


God hath not promised we shall not know
Toil and temptation, trouble and woe;
He hath not told us we shall not bear
Many a burden, many a care.


But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.


God hath not promised smooth roads and wide,
Swift, easy travel, needing no guide;
Never a mountain, rocky and steep,
Never a river, turbid and deep.


But God hath promised strength for the day,
Rest for the labor, light for the way,
Grace for the trials, help from above,
Unfailing sympathy, undying love.

You can listen to the modern version of the music here.

While the words of this song are themselves an encouraging reminder, I came across Annie's biography and some other poetry she wrote and realize she, more than anyone, probably struggled to stay positive. She suffered terribly from crippling arthritis, yet her songs are uplifting and encouraging.

Annie Johnson Flint was born on Christmas eve in 1866, at Vineland, NJ. Her mother died when she was three, soon after the birth of her sister. Her father sent the two girls to live with a widow of a Civil War friend, but the woman had few resources and two children of her own. As a result, the Johnson girls were unwelcome and neglected. A neighbor saw the situation and introduced Annie’s father to a Mr. and Mrs. Flint, who had no children and wanted to adopt the two girls. Annie's father was gravely ill and consented, dying about a year later. At the age of eight, Annie came to faith in Jesus Christ. When she was nine, she began to put words together in rhyme and rhythm, and by age twelve she was setting poems to music. As a teenager she wanted to become a concert pianist and composer, but when she was in her early twenties the Flints both died, leaving her without means to continue her education.

Shortly before her adoptive parents’ deaths, Annie started having trouble with arthritis and became unable to play the piano, so she was left with one mode of expression, writing poetry, as a replacement for her musical ambitions. In addition, Annie’s sister was not well and could not help take care of her, and at the age of 23, Annie was unable to continue working and in less than five years she could not even walk. Left without financial support and personal care, she would push a pen through her bent fingers or use her knuckles to strike typewriter keys, though often in great pain, to produce poems for use on greeting cards, on wall hangings, and in magazines. "What God Hath Promised," written in 1919, is one of her best-known poems and she also wrote “He Giveth More Grace.” She died Sept. 8, 1932, at Clifton Springs, NY.

In spite of her immense suffering, Annie’s poems are bubbling over with the joy of life and praise for the love of God. Her life shows that in the midst of suffering, one can still name blessings and gifts. When there is rain, dark storm clouds and pain in my life, can I follow in her footsteps?

Lord, may I rely on your grace to do so.