flowers grown and found in the desert

I have an unfinished post in my drafts which really ought to be published first, but alas I've opted to bypass it for now and publish what is finished. I love the multitude of ways the Lord and lover of our souls speaks to us when we have ears to hear and eyes to see. As I continue to wrestle with times of "in between" [which are shared in the unpublished post], the aches and longings in my heart unceasingly grow. While reading parts of Hannah Hurnard's allegory, "Hinds Feet on High Places," the unending tears began to stain my cheeks as I too held Sorrow's hand and laid before me an altar where I told the Lord I wanted the flower, named Acceptance-with-Joy, to radiate it's golden glow in my heart once again.

Here are some snipits of parts I had read:

As soon as she let go of the hands of the companions the Shepherd had picked for her, Sorrow and Suffering, one of her enemies, Pride, was right there.

"When you wear the weed of impatience in your heart instead of the flower Acceptance-with-Joy, you will always find your enemies get an advantage over you.... It had been easier to accept the hard path and to be patient when the sea was grey and dull than now when the sun shone and everything else around looked bright and happy and satisfied."

"Hope deferred maketh the heart sick" [I'm learning this in deeper places of my being that I knew not existed.]

"Bitterness said, as venomously as a viper, 'Why don't you laugh too, you little fool? You knew this would happen.' There he stood, uttering these awful bursts of laughter until it seemed that the whole desert was filled with the echoes of his mockery. Sorrow and her sister came up to Much-Afraid and stood by her side quite silently, and for a little while everything was swallowed up in pain and "an horror of great darkness." A sudden swirling wind shrieked over the desert and raised a storm of dust and sand which blinded them.

"In the silence which succeeded the storm Much-Afraid heard her voice, low and trembling, but quite distinct, saying, 'My Lord, what doest thou want to say to me? Speak - for thy servant heareth.'

"Next moment the Shepherd was standing beside her. 'Be of good cheer,' he said, 'it is I, be not afraid. Build me another altar and lay down your whole will as a burnt offering.'

"Obediently Much-Afraid raised a little heap of sand and loose stones, which was all that she could find in the desert, and again laid down her will and said with tears (for Sorrow had stepped forward and knelt beside her), 'I delight to do thy will, O my God.'

"From somewhere, though they could not see the source, there came a spurt of flame which consumed the offering and left a little heap of ashes on the altar. Then came the Shepherd's voice. 'This further delay is not unto death, but for the glory of God; that the son of God may be glorified.'

"The heart knoweth its own sorrow and there are times when, like David, it is comforting to think that our tears are put in a bottle and not one of them forgotten by the one who leads us in the paths of sorrow."

May our enemies, Pride, Craven Fear, Bitterness, Resentment, and Self-Pity be far from us and/or overcome as we cling to the companions [Sorrow and Suffering] the Good Shepherd chooses for us. Even as we walk along the Sea of Loneliness, or on Mount Injury, or any other place He may be leading, threshing, grinding, and refining, may our altars be built, praises ring from our hearts, and exclaims of adoration, Acceptance-with-Joy, and Trust pour from our lips.