Morning  “Mighty to save.” / Isaiah 63:1

By the words “to save” we understand the whole of the great work of salvation,

from the first holy desire onward to complete sanctification. The words are

multum in parro: indeed, here is all mercy in one word. Christ is not only

“mighty to save” those who repent, but he is able to make men repent. He will

carry those to heaven who believe; but he is, moreover, mighty to give men new

hearts and to work faith in them. He is mighty to make the man who hates

holiness love it, and to constrain the despiser of his name to bend the knee

before him. Nay, this is not all the meaning, for the divine power is equally

seen in the after-work. The life of a believer is a series of miracles wrought

by “the Mighty God.” The bush burns, but is not consumed. He is mighty to keep

his people holy after he has made them so, and to preserve them in his fear

and love until he consummates their spiritual existence in heaven. Christ’s

might doth not lie in making a believer and then leaving him to shift for

himself; but he who begins the good work carries it on; he who imparts the

first germ of life in the dead soul, prolongs the divine existence, and

strengthens it until it bursts asunder every bond of sin, and the soul leaps

from earth, perfected in glory. Believer, here is encouragement. Art thou

praying for some beloved one? Oh, give not up thy prayers, for Christ is

“mighty to save.” You are powerless to reclaim the rebel, but your Lord is

Almighty. Lay hold on that mighty arm, and rouse it to put forth its strength.

Does your own case trouble you? Fear not, for his strength is sufficient for

you. Whether to begin with others, or to carry on the work in you, Jesus is

“mighty to save;” the best proof of which lies in the fact that he has saved

you. What a thousand mercies that you have not found him mighty to destroy!

 

Evening   “Beginning to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me.” / Matthew 14:30

Sinking times are praying times with the Lord’s servants. Peter neglected

prayer at starting upon his venturous journey, but when he began to sink his

danger made him a suppliant, and his cry though late was not too late. In our

hours of bodily pain and mental anguish, we find ourselves as naturally driven

to prayer as the wreck is driven upon the shore by the waves. The fox hies to

its hole for protection; the bird flies to the wood for shelter; and even so

the tried believer hastens to the mercy seat for safety. Heaven’s great

harbour of refuge is All-prayer; thousands of weather-beaten vessels have

found a haven there, and the moment a storm comes on, it is wise for us to

make for it with all sail.

Short prayers are long enough. There were but three words in the petition

which Peter gasped out, but they were sufficient for his purpose. Not length

but strength is desirable. A sense of need is a mighty teacher of brevity. If

our prayers had less of the tail feathers of pride and more wing they would be

all the better. Verbiage is to devotion as chaff to the wheat. Precious things

lie in small compass, and all that is real prayer in many a long address might

have been uttered in a petition as short as that of Peter.

Our extremities are the Lord’s opportunities. Immediately a keen sense of

danger forces an anxious cry from us the ear of Jesus hears, and with him ear

and heart go together, and the hand does not long linger. At the last moment

we appeal to our Master, but his swift hand makes up for our delays by instant

and effectual action. Are we nearly engulfed by the boisterous waters of

affliction? Let us then lift up our souls unto our Saviour, and we may rest

assured that he will not suffer us to perish. When we can do nothing Jesus can

do all things; let us enlist his powerful aid upon our side, and all will be

well.

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