MORNING THOUGHTS,
or
DAILY WALKING WITH GOD
By Octavius Winslow
"Until the clay break, and the shadows flee away."
Solomon's Song 2:17
The Divine withdrawment is a shadow, often imparting an
aspect of dreariness to the path we are treading to the Zion of God. "Why do
You hide Yourself?" says Job. "For a small moment," says God to the Church,
"have I forsaken you. ... In a little wrath I hid my face from you for a
moment." Ah! there are many who have the quenchless light of life in their
souls, who yet, like Job, are constrained to take up the lamentation, "I
went mourning without the sun." There are no shadows darker to some of God's
saints than this. Many professing Christians dwell so perpetually in the
region of shadows, they so seldom feel the sunshine of God's presence in
their souls, that they scarcely can discern when the light is withdrawn. But
there are others, wont to walk so near with God in the rich, personal
enjoyment of their pardon, acceptance, and adoption, that if but a vapor
floats between their soul and the sun, in an instant they are sensible of
it. Oh, blessed are they whose walk is so close, so filial with God, whose
home is so hard by the cross, who, like the Apocalyptic angel, dwell so
entirely in the sun, as to feel the barometer of their soul affected by the
slightest change in their spiritual atmosphere; in other words- who walk so
much beneath the light of God's reconciled countenance as to be sensible of
His hidings even "for a small moment." Then there comes the last of our
shadows, "the valley of the shadow of death." There they terminate. This may
be the focus where they all shall meet, but it is to meet only to be
entirely and forever scattered. The sentiment is as true as the figure is
poetic- "the shadow of death." It is but a "shadow" to the believer; the
body of that shadow Jesus, the "Captain of our salvation," met on the cross,
fought and overcame. By dying He so completely destroyed death, and him that
had the power of death, that the substance of death in the experience of the
dying Christian dwindles into a mere shadow, and that shadow melts into
eternal glory.
Charles Spurgeon, Evening, June 30
“Ah Lord God, behold, thou hast made the heaven and the earth by thy
great power and stretched out arm, and there is nothing too hard for
thee.”
Jeremiah 32:17
At the very time when the Chaldeans
surrounded Jerusalem, and when
the sword, famine and pestilence had desolated the land, Jeremiah
was commanded by God to purchase a field, and have the deed of
transfer
legally sealed and witnessed. This was a strange purchase for a
rational
man to make. Prudence could not justify it, for it was buying with
scarcely a probability that the person purchasing could ever enjoy
the possession. But it was enough for Jeremiah that his God had
bidden
him, for well he knew that God will be justified of all his
children.
He reasoned thus: “Ah, Lord God! thou canst make this plot of
ground of use to me; thou
canst rid this land of these oppressors; thou canst make me yet
sit
under my vine and my fig-tree in the heritage which I have bought;
for thou didst make the heavens and the earth, and there is
nothing
too hard for thee.” This gave a majesty to the early saints, that
they dared to do at
God’s command things which carnal reason would condemn. Whether it
be
a Noah who is to build a ship on dry land, an Abraham who is to
offer
up his only son, or a Moses who is to despise the treasures of
Egypt,
or a Joshua who is to besiege Jericho seven days, using no weapons
but the blasts of rams’ horns, they all act upon God’s command,
contrary to the dictates of carnal reason; and the Lord
gives them a rich reward as the result of their obedient faith.
Would
to God we had in the religion of these modern times a more potent
infusion of this heroic faith in God. If we would venture more
upon
the naked promise of God, we should enter a world of wonders to
which
as yet we are strangers. Let Jeremiah’s place of confidence be
ours—nothing is too hard for the God that created the heavens
and the earth.
|
No comments:
Post a Comment