Hinds’ Feet on High Places is a story of endurance, persistence, and reliance on God. This book has inspired millions to become sure-footed in their faith – even when facing the rockiest terrain.hannah hurnard
A little tiny flower bloomed In desert lands you see A tiny little yellow flower Where many men don't see It hid behind a lonely place A place where few do roam It found its joy below a rusted pipe And it sheltered there below Drip, Drip, Drip, Drip It truly lacked for none The pipe supplied a tiny drink The drops fell one by one Stooping closer to observe Peering into its golden face Tiny flower, What is your name? "Acceptance-with-Joy and Grace"
One thing, however, made a special impression upon her. In all that great desert, there was not a single green thing growing, neither tree nor flower nor plant was here and there a patch of straggler grey cacti.
On the last morning she was walking near the tents and huts of the desert dwellers, when in a lonely corner behind a wall she came upon a little golden-yellow flower, growing all alone. An old pipe was connected with a water tank. In the pipe was one tiny hole through which came an occasional drop of water. Where the drops fell one by one, there grew the little golden flower, though were the seed had come from, Much-Afraid could not imagine, for there were no birds anywhere and no other growing things.
She stopped over the lonely, lovely little golden face lifted up so hopefully and so bravely to the feeble drip, and cried out softly, “What is your name, little flower, for I never saw one like you before.” the tiny plant answered at once in a tone as golden as itself, “Behold me! My name is Acceptance-with-Joy.”
…Much-Afraid said to herself, “He has brought me here when I did not want to come for his own purpose. I, too, will look up into his face and say, “Behold me! I am thy little handmaiden Acceptance-with-Joy.”
Hannah Hurnard, Hinds’ Feet on High Places, Chapter Six.
My sweet Dad, John Kennedy, was diagnosed with ALS on July 19, 2022. He is braving the most devastating diagnosis that I could imagine. In prayer, he refers to this trial as “My great hurt” and I never want to forget this.
On Monday, February 6, 2023 (only seven months after my Dad’s diagnosis of ALS), the neurologist told us that my Dad could contact hospice – whenever he felt ready. I need the courage to trust – just like my Dad. He is the bravest man that I know.
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