Tag Archives: water floods

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning”The wrath to come.” / Matthew 3:7

It is pleasant to pass over a country after a storm has spent itself; to smell the freshness of the herbs after the rain has passed away, and to note the drops while they glisten like purest diamonds in the sunlight. That is the position of a Christian. He is going through a land where the storm has spent itself upon his Saviour’s head, and if there be a few drops of sorrow falling, they distil from clouds of mercy, and Jesus cheers him by the assurance that they are not for his destruction. But how terrible is it to witness the approach of a tempest: to note the forewarnings of the storm; to mark the birds of heaven as they droop their wings; to see the cattle as they lay their heads low in terror; to discern the face of the sky as it groweth black, and look to the sun which shineth not, and the heavens which are angry and frowning! How terrible to await the dread advance of a hurricane–such as occurs, sometimes, in the tropics–to wait in terrible apprehension till the wind shall rush forth in fury, tearing up trees from their roots, forcing rocks from their pedestals, and hurling down all the dwelling-places of man! And yet, sinner, this is your present position. No hot drops have as yet fallen, but a shower of fire is coming. No terrible winds howl around you, but God’s tempest is gathering its dread artillery. As yet the water-floods are dammed up by mercy, but the flood-gates shall soon be opened: the thunderbolts of God are yet in his storehouse, but lo! the tempest hastens, and how awful shall that moment be when God, robed in vengeance, shall march forth in fury! Where, where, where, O sinner, wilt thou hide thy head, or whither wilt thou flee? O that the hand of mercy may now lead you to Christ! He is freely set before you in the gospel: his riven side is the rock of shelter. Thou knowest thy need of him; believe in him, cast thyself upon him, and then the fury shall be overpast forever.

 

Evening  “But Jonah rose up to flee unto Tarshish from the presence of the Lord, and went down to Joppa.” / Jonah 1:3

Instead of going to Nineveh to preach the Word, as God bade him, Jonah disliked the work, and went down to Joppa to escape from it. There are occasions when God’s servants shrink from duty. But what is the consequence? What did Jonah lose by his conduct? He lost the presence and comfortable enjoyment of God’s love. When we serve our Lord Jesus as believers should do, our God is with us; and though we have the whole world against us, if we have God with us, what does it matter? But the moment we start back, and seek our own inventions, we are at sea without a pilot. Then may we bitterly lament and groan out, “O my God, where hast thou gone? How could I have been so foolish as to shun thy service, and in this way to lose all the bright shinings of thy face? This is a price too high. Let me return to my allegiance, that I may rejoice in thy presence.” In the next place, Jonah lost all peace of mind. Sin soon destroys a believer’s comfort. It is the poisonous upas tree, from whose leaves distil deadly drops which destroy the life of joy and peace. Jonah lost everything upon which he might have drawn for comfort in any other case. He could not plead the promise of divine protection, for he was not in God’s ways; he could not say, “Lord, I meet with these difficulties in the discharge of my duty, therefore help me through them.” He was reaping his own deeds; he was filled with his own ways. Christian, do not play the Jonah, unless you wish to have all the waves and the billows rolling over your head. You will find in the long run that it is far harder to shun the work and will of God than to at once yield yourself to it. Jonah lost his time, for he had to go to Nineveh after all. It is hard to contend with God; let us yield ourselves at once.

Charles Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

 

Morning    “The trial of your faith.” / 1 Peter 1:7

Faith untried may be true faith, but it is sure to be little faith, and it is

likely to remain dwarfish so long as it is without trials. Faith never

prospers so well as when all things are against her: tempests are her

trainers, and lightnings are her illuminators. When a calm reigns on the sea,

spread the sails as you will, the ship moves not to its harbour; for on a

slumbering ocean the keel sleeps too. Let the winds rush howling forth, and

let the waters lift up themselves, then, though the vessel may rock, and her

deck may be washed with waves, and her mast may creak under the pressure of

the full and swelling sail, it is then that she makes headway towards her

desired haven. No flowers wear so lovely a blue as those which grow at the

foot of the frozen glacier; no stars gleam so brightly as those which glisten

in the polar sky; no water tastes so sweet as that which springs amid the

desert sand; and no faith is so precious as that which lives and triumphs in

adversity. Tried faith brings experience. You could not have believed your own

weakness had you not been compelled to pass through the rivers; and you would

never have known God’s strength had you not been supported amid the

water-floods. Faith increases in solidity, assurance, and intensity, the more

it is exercised with tribulation. Faith is precious, and its trial is precious

too.

 

Let not this, however, discourage those who are young in faith. You will have

trials enough without seeking them: the full portion will be measured out to

you in due season. Meanwhile, if you cannot yet claim the result of long

experience, thank God for what grace you have; praise him for that degree of

holy confidence whereunto you have attained: walk according to that rule, and

you shall yet have more and more of the blessing of God, till your faith shall

remove mountains and conquer impossibilities.

 

Evening    “And it came to pass in those days, that he went out into a mountain to pray,

and continued all night in prayer to God.” / Luke 6:12

If ever one of woman born might have lived without prayer, it was our

spotless, perfect Lord, and yet none was ever so much in supplication as he!

Such was his love to his Father, that he loved much to be in communion with

him: such his love for his people, that he desired to be much in intercession

for them. The fact of this eminent prayerfulness of Jesus is a lesson for

us–he hath given us an example that we may follow in his steps. The time he

chose was admirable, it was the hour of silence, when the crowd would not

disturb him; the time of inaction, when all but himself had ceased to labour;

and the season when slumber made men forget their woes, and cease their

applications to him for relief. While others found rest in sleep, he refreshed

himself with prayer. The place was also well selected. He was alone where none

would intrude, where none could observe: thus was he free from Pharisaic

ostentation and vulgar interruption. Those dark and silent hills were a fit

oratory for the Son of God. Heaven and earth in midnight stillness heard the

groans and sighs of the mysterious Being in whom both worlds were blended. The

continuance of his pleadings is remarkable; the long watches were not too

long; the cold wind did not chill his devotions; the grim darkness did not

darken his faith, or loneliness check his importunity. We cannot watch with

him one hour, but he watched for us whole nights. The occasion for this prayer

is notable; it was after his enemies had been enraged–prayer was his refuge

and solace; it was before he sent forth the twelve apostles–prayer was the

gate of his enterprise, the herald of his new work. Should we not learn from

Jesus to resort to special prayer when we are under peculiar trial, or

contemplate fresh endeavors for the Master’s glory? Lord Jesus, teach us to

pray.