{"id":3499,"date":"2025-04-07T17:22:34","date_gmt":"2025-04-07T17:22:34","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/?p=3499"},"modified":"2025-04-07T17:25:25","modified_gmt":"2025-04-07T17:25:25","slug":"martha-snell-nicholson-calls-back","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/?p=3499","title":{"rendered":"Martha Snell Nicholson Calls Back"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

The future, ah the future! Starting out on life\u2019s journey, how many times have God\u2019s children dreamed of what they would become \u2026. someday!! And then they find themselves face to face with life\u2019s stark reality and their childish dreams evaporate overnight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This was the case with the Christian poetess, Martha Snell Nicholson. Her own words will best describe the secret of her serenity of spirit and her contagious cheerfulness that overflowed into verse:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLooking back over nearly a lifetime of illness, I am thanking God for these pain-filled years\u2026. When I stood at the beginning and strained my eyes to see down the dim path ahead, I was sure it would be strewed with roses. When pain and sorrow came, I could not understand, but now as I look back the long road which lies so clearly behind me, I see that His hand was upon me all the way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNever strong as a child, I broke down very early in young womanhood. I spent the ensuing seven years in bed, most of the time with TB, then up off and on, one sick spell after another, seven operations besides fifteen minor \u2018carvings.\u2019 It seems that almost every disease has had a try at me. For the last twenty years I have been on the shelf, able to attend church only once during that period.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThey have brought me gifts\u2014those weary years. I do not enjoy sickness or suffering, or the nervous agony and exhaustion that are harder to bear than physical pain. And an invalid must bury so many dear dreams which have death struggles and refuse to die decently and quietly. But God has a way of taking away our toys, and after we have cried for a while like disappointed children, He fills our hands with jewels, which \u2018cannot be valued with the gold of Ophir, with the precious onyx, or the sapphire.\u2019<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI recall that after I had been sick for several years, I thought, in my foolishness, that I had learned the lessons which God wanted to teach me, and that He would let me go out into the world and work for Him. As though one could ever learn all that God has to teach! No, I am still sick. I do not understand why I must still be an invalid. I no longer expect to understand. If I did, there would be no need for faith. Enough that He knows why, and some day He will tell me about it\u2014why it was best for me and best for His cause.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThen came the hardest blow of all. Nearly nine years ago, He called my beloved husband and left me here alone, crippled with arthritis, facing cancer, and with dimming eyesight and other illness into which I need not go. Then indeed I learned about God and that His strength is made perfect in weakness and that He can supply all my needs \u2018according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.\u2019 It is one thing to think so\u2014it is another thing to have found out by actual experience that it is so, to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that when you go down into the valley, you can clasp His hand\u2014that you never need to be alone or afraid for He will go with you on all your paths\u2014and that His arm is strong enough to carry you. It is blessed beyond words to know these things.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before she was called Home, Martha Snell Nicholson experienced an even more crippling form of illness\u2014Parkinson\u2019s disease. Out of her suffering was born her poem entitled, \u201cTranquility\u201d:<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Holds fast my hand.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

My life is molded by the One<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Who shaped the land.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Mind which planned the march of suns<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Can understand<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The petty trials of my day;<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Who hollowed out the cup that holds<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The mighty sea,<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And keeps the waves in check, can give<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tranquility<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

In my small storms. Shall not the One<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Who holds in place<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Milky Way, keep me each day<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And by His grace<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Present me perfect, faultless there<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before His face?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

 <\/em>Used by permission of the Wesleyan Advocate<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Maybe some who read this blog empathize completely with this poetess, because they have traveled the same path she did, or maybe a loved one is being overwhelmed by the same sense of futility and frustration as this invalid experienced. If so, may this testimony reassure you that God is there with you even in the darkest hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"\/<\/a><\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The future, ah the future! Starting out on life\u2019s journey, how many times have God\u2019s children dreamed of what they would become \u2026. someday!! And then they find themselves face to face with life\u2019s stark reality and their childish dreams evaporate overnight. This was the case with the Christian poetess, Martha Snell Nicholson. Her own […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3499","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9Xgj9-Ur","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3499","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3499"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3499\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":3504,"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3499\/revisions\/3504"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3499"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3499"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/harveycp.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3499"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}