Morning “And Sarah said, God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear will laugh

with me.” Genesis 21:6

 It was far above the power of nature, and even contrary to its laws, that the

aged Sarah should be honoured with a son; and even so it is beyond all ordinary

rules that I, a poor, helpless, undone sinner, should find grace to bear about

in my soul the indwelling Spirit of the Lord Jesus. I, who once despaired, as

well I might, for my nature was as dry, and withered, and barren, and accursed

as a howling wilderness, even I have been made to bring forth fruit unto

holiness. Well may my mouth be filled with joyous laughter, because of the

singular, surprising grace which I have received of the Lord, for I have found

Jesus, the promised seed, and he is mine forever. This day will I lift up

 psalms of triumph unto the Lord who has remembered my low estate, for “my heart

rejoiceth in the Lord; mine horn is exalted in the Lord; my mouth is enlarged

over mine enemies, because I rejoice in thy salvation.”

 I would have all those that hear of my great deliverance from hell, and my most

blessed visitation from on high, laugh for joy with me. I would surprise my

family with my abundant peace; I would delight my friends with my

ever-increasing happiness; I would edify the Church with my grateful

confessions; and even impress the world with the cheerfulness of my daily

conversation. Bunyan tells us that Mercy laughed in her sleep, and no wonder

when she dreamed of Jesus; my joy shall not stop short of hers while my Beloved

is the theme of my daily thoughts. The Lord Jesus is a deep sea of joy: my soul

shall dive therein, shall be swallowed up in the delights of his society. Sarah

looked on her  Isaac, and laughed with excess of rapture, and all her friends laughed with

her; and thou, my soul, look on thy Jesus, and bid heaven and earth unite in thy

joy unspeakable.

 

Evening “He openeth, and no man shutteth.” Revelation 3:7

 Jesus is the keeper of the gates of paradise and before every believing soul he

setteth an open door, which no man or devil shall be able to close against it.

What joy it will be to find that faith in him is the golden key to the

everlasting doors. My soul, dost thou carry this key in thy bosom, or art thou

trusting to some deceitful pick-lock, which will fail thee at last? Hear this

parable of the preacher, and remember it. The great King has made a banquet, and

he has proclaimed to all the world that none shall enter but those who bring

with them the fairest flower that blooms. The spirits of men advance to the gate

by thousands, and they bring each one the flower which he esteems the

 queen of the garden; but in crowds they are driven from the royal presence, and

enter not into the festive halls. Some bear in their hand the deadly nightshade

of superstition, or the flaunting poppies of Rome, or the hemlock of self-

righteousness, but these are not dear to the King, the bearers are shut out of

the pearly gates. My soul, hast thou gathered the rose of Sharon? Dost thou wear

the lily of the valley in thy bosom constantly? If so, when thou comest up to

the gates of heaven thou wilt know its value, for thou hast only to show this

choicest of flowers, and the Porter will open: not for a moment will he deny

thee admission, for to that rose the Porter openeth ever. Thou shalt

 find thy way with the rose of Sharon in thy hand up to the throne of God

himself, for heaven itself possesses nothing that excels its radiant beauty, and

of all the flowers that bloom in paradise there is none that can rival the lily

of the valley. My soul, get Calvary’s blood-red rose into thy hand by faith, by

love wear it, by communion preserve it, by daily watchfulness make it thine all

in all, and thou shalt be blessed beyond all bliss, happy beyond a dream. Jesus,

be mine forever, my God, my heaven, my all.