It is blessed sometimes that the streams of creature comforts should be dry in order to compel us to go to that fountain head. When the fig-tree does not blossom, and the field yields no meat, then a covenant God becomes more precious to flee to.
My soul, was not that assault of Satan sanctified when it brought Jesus to your rescue? Was not that cross perfectly timed when it tended to wean you from the world? And would you, in hindsight, have been without that sickness, when Jesus sat up with you, soothed you in your suffering, and made you comfortable in sickness? (see Psalm 41:3).
Well was it for me that I was brought low, or I should never have known, in a thousand instances, the help of my God. Oh then, my soul, like Paul, learn to glory in your infirmities, that the power of Jesus may rest upon you (see 2 Corinthians 12:9).
“I am certain that I never did grow in grace one-half so much anywhere as I have upon the bed of pain.”—C. H. Spurgeon