Awake,
O north wind;
and come, thou south;
blow upon my garden,
that the spices thereof may flow out.
Song of Solomon 4:16
"Anything is better than the dead calm of indifference.
Our souls may wisely desire the north wind of trouble if that alone can be sanctified to the drawing forth of the perfume of our graces. So long as it cannot be said, "The Lord was not in the wind," we will not shrink from the most wintry blast that ever blew upon plants of grace. ....Yet she desires the warm south wind of comfort, too, the smiles of divine love, the joy of the Redeemer's presence;
these are often mightily effectual to arouse our sluggish life.
Graces unexercised are as sweet perfumes slumbering in the cups of the flowers: the wisdom of the great Husbandman overrules diverse and opposite causes to produce the one desired result, and makes both affliction and consolation draw forth the grateful odors of faith, love, patience, hope, resignation, joy, and the other fair flowers of the garden. May we know by sweet experience, what this means."
Charles Spurgeon