Morning “He led them forth by the right way.” Psalm 107:7

Changeful experience often leads the anxious believer to inquire “Why is it thus

with me?” I looked for light, but lo, darkness came; for peace, but behold,

trouble. I said in my heart, my mountain standeth firm; I shall never be moved.

Lord, thou dost hide thy face, and I am troubled. It was but yesterday that I

could read my title clear; today my evidences are bedimmed, and my hopes are

clouded. Yesterday, I could climb to Pisgah’s top, and view the landscape o’er,

and rejoice with confidence in my future inheritance; today, my spirit has no

hopes, but many fears; no joys, but much distress. Is this part of God’s plan

with me? Can this be the way in which God would bring me to heaven?

Yes, it is even so. The eclipse of your faith, the darkness of your mind, the

fainting of your hope, all these things are but parts of God’s method of making

you ripe for the great inheritance upon which you shall soon enter. These trials

are for the testing and strengthening of your faith–they are waves that wash

you further upon the rock–they are winds which waft your ship the more swiftly

towards the desired haven. According to David’s words, so it might be said of

you, “So he bringeth them to their desired haven.” By honour and dishonour, by

evil report and by good report, by plenty and by poverty, by joy and by

distress, by persecution and by peace, by all these things is the life

of your souls maintained, and by each of these are you helped on your way. Oh,

think not, believer, that your sorrows are out of God’s plan; they are necessary

parts of it. “We must, through much tribulation, enter the kingdom.” Learn,

then, even to “count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.”

“O let my trembling soul be still,

And wait thy wise, thy holy will!

I cannot, Lord, thy purpose see,

Yet all is well since ruled by thee.”

 

Evening “Behold, thou art fair, my Beloved.” Song of Solomon 1:16

From every point our Well-beloved is most fair. Our various experiences are

meant by our heavenly Father to furnish fresh standpoints from which we may view

the loveliness of Jesus; how amiable are our trials when they carry us aloft

where we may gain clearer views of Jesus than ordinary life could afford us! We

have seen him from the top of Amana, from the top of Shenir and Hermon, and he

has shone upon us as the sun in his strength; but we have seen him also “from

the lions’ dens, from the mountains of the leopards,” and he has lost none of

his loveliness. From the languishing of a sick bed, from the borders of the

grave, have we turned our eyes to our soul’s spouse, and he has never been

otherwise than “all fair.” Many of his saints have looked upon him from the

gloom of dungeons, and from the red flames of the stake, yet have they never

uttered an ill word of him, but have died extolling his surpassing charms. Oh,

noble and pleasant employment to be forever gazing at our sweet Lord Jesus! Is

it not unspeakably delightful to view the Saviour in all his offices, and to

perceive him matchless in each?–to shift the kaleidoscope, as it were, and to

find fresh combinations of peerless graces? In the manger and in eternity, on

the cross and on his throne, in the garden and in his kingdom, among thieves or

in the midst of cherubim, he is everywhere “altogether lovely.” Examine

carefully every little act of his life, and every trait of his character, and

he is as lovely in the minute as in the majestic. Judge him as you will, you

cannot censure; weigh him as you please, and he will not be found wanting.

Eternity shall not discover the shadow of a spot in our Beloved, but rather, as

ages revolve, his hidden glories shall shine forth with yet more inconceivable

splendour, and his unutterable loveliness shall more and more ravish all

celestial minds.