The Guiding Hand

Cast thy burden upon the Lord.

– Psalm 55:22

Is this the way, my Father? ‘T is, my child.
Thou must pass through this tangled, dreary wild,
If thou wouldst reach the city, undefiled,
Thy peaceful home above.

But enemies are round! Yes, child, I know
That where thou least expectest thou’lt find a foe;
But victor thou shalt prove o’er all below,
Only seek strength above.

My Father, it is dark! Child, take my hand,
Cling close to me; I’ll lead thee through the land;
Trust my all-seeing care; so shalt thou stand
’Midst glory bright above.

My footsteps seem to slide! Child, only raise
Thine eye to me, then in these slippery ways
I will hold up thy goings; thou shalt praise
Me for each step above.

O Father, I am weary! Child, lean thy head
Upon my breast. It was my love that spread
Thy rugged path; hope on, till I have said,
”Rest, rest for aye, above.”

– J.B.M.

It Came Upon the Midnight Clear

It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold, –
”Peace to the earth, good-will to men,
From Heaven’s all-gracious King”:
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats
O’er all the weary world:
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on heavenly wing,
And o’er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the angel-strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And men, at war with men, hear not
The love-song which they bring:
O, hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and flow;
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing:
O, rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophet bards foretold,
When with the ever-circling years
Comes round the age of gold;
When Peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world send back the song
Which now the angels sing.

– Rev. E. H. Sears (1810-1876)
This hymn, written in 1849

Why Are You Cast Down, O my soul?

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

–Psalm 42:5–6 (ESV)

Beloved? Listen, please.

(deep breath)

You’re floundering.

Be still, O my soul.

O, heart! You…flutter excitedly, for a little while, and then…you stop short. You begin to doubt. You start to question. And, down, down, DOWN you go.

This keeps happening.
“What is happening?” - you ask.

I’ll tell you (said gently).

Your faith, beloved, it’s waning, again.

Hey now, there, there. All is well.

Even though your grip is slipping, His isn’t.

Beloved? You’re leaning far too much again on your feelings, your understanding of things; your dim-witted perspective…it’s…lacking (said ever so tenderly).

You see…you tend to get all tangled up when you depend upon your own limited view. This seems to be a repeating pattern for you, beloved. And…it seems to blindside you, just when you think you’re holding fast. That’s when it seems most likely to settle in, and take over. (sigh)

Beloved? Please don’t become discouraged. Even though you thrash about…your God…He is unchanging. Remember, beloved? Do you recall the words in Lamentations 3:21-23? I know you do.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

And, oh! How about John 14:27:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you.
Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.

It’s in moments like these, beloved, I reckon, we must conjure up these precious promises…we must ponder these beautiful words provided for us by the One called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Everything we see, everything we feel, everything we think, beloved…can deceive us. These things may pierce us. Aye, they may chew us up and spit us out, they may torment us, defy us…they may altogether nearly ruin us.

Well! Isn’t that a consoling word!? Ha!

But…beloved (said with extra tenderness)?

We’re not our own.

If we were our own, we’d be fighting tooth and nail right now. If we were our own, we’d be grasping. We’d be taking whatever we could get our hands on. We’d demand love. We’d do anything in our power to have it. We’d cheat, we’d steal, we’d deceive, we’d pretend to be someone we’re not…we’d say “I will have this by my own hand”, we’d be slaves to our own will - if we were our own.

Oh, and besides, we’d never obtain that which we so desperately sought after, anyways. We might “win”, but we’d still, ultimately, lose. Just like Chicks tried to claw his way into winning the Piston cup in the original Cars movie produced by Pixar; he won, and yet, he lost. This makes me cry every time I watch it. (ahem) True victory isn’t something that is taken, it’s given.

We are more than conquerors through him who loved us.

–Romans 8:37

And so…thanks be to God we’re not our own! We’ve been bought with a price.

…You are not your own, for you were bought with a price.

– 1 Corinthians 6:19–20

This, without proper context, could be terrifying, perhaps. Because, we could, of course, be the property of one who might abuse us, take us for granted, or make sport out of us, or ruin us all together - amongst other things. And, I wouldn’t blame them, one bit. I deserve every bit of it.

But, beloved?

The One who has bought us, His name is Love. We don’t have to pine for it anymore. We don’t have to cheat to have it. We don’t have to finagle our way in. It’s already ours. We just have to believe it to be true. We have to trust that it is, indeed, truer than anything and everything else we perceive with these eyes, and hear with these ears, and feel with this heart.

So, why are you cast down, O my soul?

You’ve gone astray, once again. Your faith is weak. You’ve taken your eyes off of your Beloved Jesus, and you’ve trusted more in your own perceptions and emotions than what He’s said and done.

Beloved (said with empathy)?

Stop. Don’t wallow in self-pity. It will get you nowhere. Or, similarly, it will get you far; far away from the One who loves you with a steadfast, everlasting love. It will do you no good, O my soul.

Trust in your God, beloved. Trust in Him. Trust in your beautiful Savior, Jesus Christ - the One who, smitten, stricken by men, died on your behalf. You’re weeping…I know. Weep then. Weep until you have no more tears. Weep until the reserve has run dry. Cry aloud. Sulk if you must. Wallow in your grief, beloved, if it does you any good…

But, beloved (said extra tenderly)? Turn to your God, and trust in Him above everything else. You have no other hope apart from Jesus.

You might feel downcast. You may feel despondent. But, you’re not lost, beloved. Nothing is truly lost. Not when you’ve been bought at a price and you are owned and loved by the immutable God.

Praise your God, beloved. Praise Him, once again!

Weep Without Knowing Why

For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.

– Romans 8:19–23 (ESV)

–––

There is so much lost in this world, O Lord, so much that aches and groans and shivers for want of redemption, so much that seems dislocated, upended, desecrated, unhinged – even in our own hearts.

Even in our own hearts we bear the mark of all that is broken. What is best in this world has been bashed and battered and trodden down. What was meant to be the substance has become the brittle shell, haunted by the ghosts of a glory so long crumbled that only its rubble is remembered now.

Is it any wonder we should weep sometimes, without knowing why? It might be anything. And then again, it might be everything.

For we feel this. We who are your children feel this empty space where some lost thing should have rested in its perfection, and we pine for those nameless glories, and we pine for all the wasted stories in our world, and we pine for these present wounds. We pine for our children and for their children too, knowing each will have to prove how this universal pain is also personal. We pine for all children born into these days of desolation – whose regal robes were torn to tatters before they were even swaddled in them.

O Lord, how can we not weep, when waking each day in this vale of tears? How can we not feel those pangs, when we wounded by others, so soon learn to wound as well, and in the end wound even ourselves? We grieve what we cannot heal and we grieve our half-belief, having made uneasy peace with disillusion, aligning ourselves with a self-protective lie that would have us kill our best hopes just to keep our disappointments half-confined.

We feel ourselves wounded by what is wretched, foul, and fell, but we are sometimes wounded by the beauty as well, for when it whispers, it whispers of the world that might have been our birthright, now banished, now withdrawn, as unreachable to our wounded hearts as ancient seas receding down some endless dark.

We weep, O Lord, for those things that, though nameless, are still lost. We weep for the cost of our rebellions, for the mocking and hollowing of holy things, for the inward curve of our souls, for the evidences of death outworked in every field and tree and blade of grass, crept up in every creature, alert in every longing, infecting all fabrics of life.

We weep for the leers our daughters will endure, as if to be made in reflection of your beauty were a fault for which they must pay. We weep for our sons, sabotaged by profiteers who seek to warp their dreams before they even come of age.

We weep for all the twisted alchemies of our times that would turn what might have been gold into crowns of cheap tin and then toss them into refuse bins as if love could ever be a castoff thing one might simply be done with.

We weep for the wretched expressions of all things that were first built of goodness and glory but are now their own shadow twins. We have wept so often. And we will weep again.

And yet, there is somewhere in our tears a hope still kept.

We feel it in this darkness, like a tiny flame, when we are told Jesus also wept.

You wept.

So moved by the pain of this crushed creation, you, O Lord, heaved with the grief of it, drinking the anguish like water and sweating it out of your skin like blood.

Is it possible that you – in your sadness over, Lazarus, in your grieving for Jerusalem, in your sorrow in the garden – is it possible that you have sanctified our weeping too?

For the grief of God is no small thing, and the weeping of God is not without effect. The tears of Jesus preceded a resurrection of the dead.

O, Spirit of God, is it then possible that our tears might also be a kind of intercession?

That we, your children, in our groaning with the sadness of creation, could be joining in some burdened work of coming restoration? Is it possible that when we weep and don’t know why, it is because the curse has ranged so far, so wide? That we weep at that which breaks your heart, because it has also broken ours – sometimes so deeply that we cannot explain our weeping, even to ourselves?

If that is true, then let such weeping be received, O Lord, as an intercession newly forged of holy sorrow.

Then let our tears anoint these broken things, and let our grief be as their consecration – a preparation for their promised redemption, our sorrow sealing them for that Day when you will take the ache of all creation, and turn it inside-out, like the shedding of an old gardener’s glove.

O Lord, if it please you, when your children weep and don’t know why, yet use our tears to baptize what you love.

Amen.

– EVERY moment HOLY (VOL I)

Holy Tears

Yes, thou mayst weep, for Jesus shed
Such tears as those thou sheddest now,
When for the living or the dead
Sorrow lay heavy on his brow.

He sees thee weep, yet doth not blame
The weakness of thy flesh and heart;
Thy human nature is the same
As that in which he took a part.

He knows its weakness, for he felt
The crushing power of pain and woe,
How body, soul, and spirit melt,
And faint beneath the stunning blow.

What if poor sinners count thy grief
The sign of an unchastened will?
He who can give thy soul relief
Knows that thou art submissive still.

Turn thee to Him, to Him alone;
For all that our poor lips can say
To soothe thee, broken-hearted one,
Would fail to comfort thee to-day.

We will not speak to thee, but fit
In prayerful silence by thy side:
Grief has its ebbs and flows; ‘t is fit
Our love should wait the ebbing tide.

Jesus himself will comfort thee,
In his own time, in his own way;
And haply more than “two or three”
Unite in prayer for thee to-day.

– J.E.B.

Be Still!

Peace! Be still!
In this night of sorrow bow,
O my heart, contend not thou!
What befalls thee is God’s will, –
Peace! Be still!

Peace! Be still!
All thy murmuring words are vain, –
God will make the riddle plain:
Wait his word, and bear his will, –
Peace! Be still!

Hold thee still!
Though the Father scourge thee sore,
Cling thou to him all the more,
Let him mercy’s work fulfil!
Hold thee still!

Hold thee still!
Though the good Physician’s knife
Seem to touch thy very life,
Death alone he means to kill,
Hold thee still!

Lord, my God!
Give me grace, that I may be
Thy true child, and silently
Own thy sceptre and they rod,
Lord, my God!

Shepherd mine!
From thy fulness give me still
Faith to do and bear Thy will,
Till the morning light shall shine, –
Shepherd mine!

– From the German.

Love Bears All Things

Love bears all things.

– 1 Corinthians 13:7 (ESV)

–––

The picture language behind the Greek word for “bears” (stegõ) may come as a surprise. The verb means “to cover”, “to pass over in silence” or “to keep confidential“. But in its noun form it means roof!

…

So, love is like a roof: it prevents leaks; it copes with all weathers; it covers things up – including “a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4 v 8).

– Love Came Down at Christmas (Sinclair B. Ferguson)

---

Dear heavenly Father,

Your love!? My! It…astounds me! Every single day, I learn something new and wonderful about your love for me. I’m thankful for these words from Sinclair. How they help me see more clearly, and understand more fully the deep, complete, pervasiveness of your love! And, how this helps teach me to know how to better love in return!

I love your love! I’m drunk with your love, O Lord. The more I understand your immensely beautiful love, the more I want to clothe myself in like-mindedness. I want to be just like you, Father.

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.

— 2 Corinthians 3:18

I feel like a little child watching you, learning, perceiving, wondering, peering over your shoulder as I look upon your doings in total amazement and awe. O, Lord! I simply cannot get enough of You! My heart gushes before You in adoration.

Please, Lord, teach me how to love like You. I am absolutely fascinated and obsessed with You.

I love you.

Amen.

The Entire Surrender

Peace has unveiled her smiling face,
And woos thy soul to her embrace,
Enjoyed with ease, if thou refrain
From earthly love, else sought in vain;
She dwells with all who Truth prefer,
But seeks not them who seek not her.

Yield to the Lord, with simple heart,
All that thou hast, and all thou art;
Renounce all strength but strength divine,
And peace shall be for ever thine:
Behold the path which I have trod,
My path, till I go home to God.

– William Cowper

Consider The Young Maple Tree

O, beloved! Ye long for heaven, yes? Yes.

Methinks ye say: “why must time dillydally ever so slowly?!”

Ah, indeed. (sigh)

But, sweet child of God, some things can only come about in due Time.

Consider the little Maple tree, beloved.

Do not glance quickly at her. Take in every acute detail, please.

Notice how the tender bark is smooth? It hardly has any grooves, just yet. It’s still very vulnerable, you see? As she matures, grooves in the bark catch, and channel moisture more effectively during a hard rain. Grooves help her withstand longer periods of drought. The extra thickness helps protect her vascular cambium, sapwood, and ultimately her heartwood from pestilence and harmful insects. But thick bark can only develop slowly, over time. Even if she was able to speed up the growing process, the hasty expansion would naturally crack her delicate skin. This simply cannot be rushed, even though she, no doubt, longs for the added benefit, protection, and glory it will some Day provide.

Now, grab hold of one of her tender shoots, please. Feel how very limber she is? These may hold some leaves, yes, but not many. Aye, they will barely hold enough leaves to cast a shadow. Can she hope to provide cool shade for passersby in her current state? If a gentleman wishes to fashion cordage upon one of her branches to tie up a swing for his daughter, will it hold the precious child securely? Will the expecting young mother sparrow, full of life within, determine the young Maple’s delicate twigs worthy of a safe haven for her soon to be baby chicks? No. (said gently) With time, these woody sprouts will blossom into some of the strongest, ablest, magnificent arms…but they haven’t fully aged, not quite yet.

Also, she cannot hope to be any good for lumber. No, not yet. Even now, someone might scornfully laugh at the thought of taking time to bundle her puny twigs as “firewood”. Notice her slender trunk. See how you can lean upon it and it bends under little weight? She’s just beginning her journey, beloved. She’s beautiful, now, indeed! She has value, yes, even today as she stands. More value than we can measure. Although she’s not terribly useful, yet. I say that…hesitantly, of course, because the word “useful” can mean different things to different people in different situations. But for the purposes of this supplication, her usefulness is limited, verily.

And so, she needs time, you see, beloved? More time: more trials, more sunshine, more rain, more seasons. More intense daylight, more rest at nighttime, more periods of drought so her roots can sink deeper into the earth’s soil for added stability, more blustering winds so she can test her strength as she flexes and waves and praises her Maker, more learning and trusting in letting go of leaves - that which she has daily nourished and nurtured and fed - all the while hoping new buds will return once again as described by His loving design.

She happily allows God to let nature run its course. She doesn’t just wait passively. No. She gladly forbears all things in loving obedience to her Maker. So why can’t we? She doesn’t appear to be recklessly, anxiously, hurrying things along. She’s, content. She, trusts.

Therefore, O, beloved (said extra tenderly), let’s put the same trust in our loving Creator. Whenever we’re tempted to doubt, to question His goodness, distrust His sovereign purpose in using time; may we consider the young Maple tree as our kind tutor. It’s not just time, beloved, it’s His Time.

Let us be patient. O, my young anxious soul, wait upon your God.

Prepare Ye The Way of the Lord

[3] A voice cries: “In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God. [4] Every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain. [5] And the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together, for the mouth of the LORD has spoken.”

– Isaiah 40:3–5 (ESV)

–––

Here is the forward thrust of Advent, the countervailing motion that lifts the boats clear, the heralding announcement of the arriving God. The note that is struck is sounded from the future. We are not looking backward sentimentally to a baby; we are looking forward to the only One in whom the promise of peace will some day be fulfilled. Trusting in that promise, we can do things we thought we could not do. Relying on Him, we can change our habits, confront our addictions, forgive our enemies, curb our spending, challenge our society, raise our pledge, lower our defenses, stand up for justice, speak the truth – not all of these things at once, to be sure, but even one break from past patterns of sin will be in its way a sign of Christ’s coming. Because God is out ahead of us, we know that cover-ups, the denials, the lies and frauds and pretenses are part of the old world that is passing away. We are not trapped in our mistakes and delusions. God is enlisting us on the side of His future.

Listen to the first lines of the Advent hymns: “Hark, a thrilling voice is sounding!”; “Lo, He comes, with clouds descending!”; “Sleepers, wake! a voice astounds us!”; “Rejoice, rejoice, believers!” As the electrifying message reaches our ears, we recognize that we are hearing something entirely new in religion. God is on the move toward us, not the other way around. In the very midst of our confusion and incapacity, we are met by the oncoming Lord. In our valley of ashes, we are seized by hope. In the graveyard of dreams, the Holy Spirit breathes life from the dead. In the place where illusions die, the Sun rises upon us, and of His kingdom there will be no end.

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

– Beyond the Valley of Ashes (Fleming Rutledge)

---

O, my soul. (said tenderly) What gives you hope?

As we speedily come upon yet another Christmas season, our spirit is filled with noise, yes? O, beloved! We have so many mixed emotions, do we not, just now?

We look around us with these wonderfully made eyes our Creator gave us, we take in various smells, we place our hands on bitterly cold tree trunks, we listen to hymns of old (loudly) - proclaiming the truth of God, we taste fruits of labor - labor of love. And…as we do…we ponder.

Our memory takes us back a bit in time to when we were younger; when our parents were the ones guiding us. We, fondly remember those times.

Times of peace, love, and joy. Things seemed simpler then, perhaps.

Part of us, nostalgically, holds on to such memories. We chase them, we try and recreate them, we cherish them. We desperately try and hold on to them.

While it is good, and right to do so; holding on to memories, even memories like these, can be crippling, in a way, if we hold too tightly. If we’re not careful, they can crowd out reality. They can, if we’re not diligent, take over the present moment, and dare I say, even the future.

In retrospect, we glamorize things. Partially, I think, as a way of coping with disappointment. Because, in this world, it’s inevitable, beloved. We therefore, filter out that which is undesirable. We do so consciously, and subconsciously. And we think to self: “no harm done.” But…

O, dear soul. (said gently) There is harm done. We’re only suppressing the sorrows. We’re merely masking the pain.

And so, in the midst of this, how shall we “prepare ye the way of the Lord”? For He surely is coming soon. So very soon!

Do we look back to memories - those we hold dearly as well as those we lament? Do we, in celebration, remember the birth of our precious Savior: Jesus Christ, our Lord? Of course.

We call all of these blessed memories to mind with joy, along with all other memories, too - even the bitter ones. All of these things are worth remembering.

But, all the while, solemnly reconciling the truth in our hearts - taking all things in proper context: the reason for His coming.

He came, beloved, because we were, indeed, lost - we were without hope. Let us not forget.

So, what do we do with all of the messiness in life, here and now? The already, but not yet?

We must continue to speak truth to our souls, we must saturate our hearts with His precious Word. We must cry out to Him, constantly, earnestly, fervently. Let Him know you miss Him. Let us pour out our soul to Him day by day, beloved. Let us remember passages like 1 Corinthians 13:4-6 and Philippians 4:8

And, as some moments of bitterness inevitably creep into our consciousness, don’t despair, beloved. Ooo! How about we use them to fuel our expectations for what’s to come, yes? Yes. For He will restore all things in His proper Time.

We look back, beloved, yes, but in doing so, we also look forward.

Let us take all of this: the good and the bad, the joys and sorrows, the hopes and fears, and may we look forward, still. For we do greatly anticipate His coming to fulfill all of His purposes, yes?

Indeed.

–––

O, King,

We patiently, gladly, and expectantly wait upon You.

O, Spirit, shape our hearts, please. Continue your work in us.

O, God, help us to revel in your faithfulness, your steadfast love, your mercies which are new every morning, your incredible work since the beginning of time. May we honestly surrender all of our disappointments, sorrows, and fears to You - the only One worth trusting with such precious thoughts. As we reflect and ponder throughout this Christmas season, I ask You to continually recalibrate our compass of hope. When we mistakingly put our hope in that which cannot satisfy, please…tenderly take us by the hand, cup our face…and hold us. May we, through faith, see You: our Hope. Prepare our hearts, please. So we can be ready. We eagerly await You. Come! Please, Lord Jesus, come quickly! We long to see you face to face! These eyes you have created, they are desperate to behold You in all of your glory. Our hearts ache to be with You, our Beloved. Please, Lord, hide not your face from us forever. We earnestly seek you! Come, come King Jesus! May all glory be yours forever and ever.

Amen.

O come, O come, Emmanuel

O come, O come, Emmanuel!
Christ our King, how we long for your return.
O come, O come, Emmanuel!
Christ our Shepherd,
how we pine for your voice.
O come, O come, Emmanuel!
Christ our older brother, how we miss you.
Make haste, O Lord. Return to us!

You came to us, O Lord,
as a lantern in our darkness.
Now illumine our way.
You came to us as a song
in the midst of our sorrow.
Now kindle our hope.
You came to us as a balm
on the bed of our sufferings.
Now be our healing.

You came to us as a shelter
amidst the violence of storms.
Now grant us peace.
You came to us as mercy
in the place of our shame.
Now be our righteousness.
You came to us as a king
upon the fields of our defeat.
Now be our salvation.
You came to us as a child
in the midnight of our despair.
Now be our God.

Remembering these manifold joys and blessings of your first advent, how our hearts long to witness the glories of your promised return.
Come quickly, Lord Jesus!
O come, O come, Emmanuel.
Amen.

– EVERY moment HOLY (VOL I)

Source Of My Life's Refreshing Springs

Thou maintainest my lot.

– Psalm 16:5 (KJV)

–––

Source of my life’s refreshing springs.
Whose presence in my heart sustains me,
Thy love appoints me pleasant things,
Thy mercy orders all that pains me.

If loving hearts were never lonely,
If all they wish might always be,
Accepting what they look for only,
They might be glad, but not in Thee.

Well may Thy own beloved, who see
In all their lot their Father’s pleasure,
Bear loss of all they love, save Thee,
Their living, everlasting treasure

Well may Thy happy children cease
From restless wishes prone to sin,
And, in Thy own exceeding peace,
Yield to Thy daily discipline.

We need as much the cross we bear,
As air we breath, – as light we see;
It draws us to Thy side in prayer,
It binds us to our strength in Thee.

– Anna Laetitia Waring (1823 - 1910)

---

O, beloved! How we do cherish the presence of our living God, yes? We, are learning, slowly, what it means to enjoy His presence in this “already, but not yet” season of life.

It’s a little bit different than what, perhaps, we expected, at first.

As we surrender our wills to Him, we entrust our very lives; we abandon our wishes, wants, desires, and take on His as our own.

You see, beloved, our natural wishes are no good. They won’t last. They won’t satisfy. Our affections are deceived.

We seek love, and as we are prone to grasp, we try and grab ahold of it. But it becomes bitter in our mouths as soon as we take a bite. We finagle our way in, we choose our path, we make our stance, we demand love, and…

…love, we have not.

No. (said ever so gently) That’s not the way, beloved.

But wait! We are, beloved! Do you see? Already, beloved! We don’t have to search for it! We don’t have to grasp after it! We don’t have to pine for it! Our precious Savior has already chosen us!

So, why, O heart, do you keep grasping?

Trust in your God. Let the troubles you face now; the trials of faith, the sorrows of soul, the confusion of mind, the mystery of imagination, the fears of lack, the desires of heart - may they all lead you to pray to the One who saves, who loves, who satisfies.

We cannot rest our weary frame upon Him, yet, beloved. I wish we could. I really do. How I yearn to feel His gentle touch. But, in due Time, we shall. We must wait, patiently, gladly.

One Day, we’ll see His face - that which we have never seen, yet even now adore.

Be at rest, O child of God.

What Then Shall We Say?

If God went to such lengths as to control the events of the world and to sacrifice His one and only Son, would it make any sense at all for Him to abandon you between the “already” of your justification and the “not yet” of your final glorification? Would it make any sense for Him to turn His back on you now? Would it make any sense for Him to ignore you in your hour of need? Would you expend a great amount of personal effort and sacrifice to secure something of value and then not work to keep, maintain, and protect it?

–––

“If He freely gave us Jesus, doesn’t it make sense that He will also give us everything that we need?”

– Romans 8:31-33

–––

So don’t let any evil enemy whisper lies into your ear. Don’t let him tell you that you are alone, that you’re left to your own resources, or that God doesn’t hear or care. Don’t let yourself doubt God’s presence and His goodness. Don’t let yourself wonder if you’ll make it through. God unleashed His power to make you His own, and He will continue to unleash His power to keep and protect you until you are with Him forever in that place where you will need His protection no more because the final enemy will be under HIs feet.

– December 9 - New Morning Mercies (Paul Tripp)

---

O, beloved! We are so very quick to forget, yes? To forget His steadfast, ceaseless love. We get all caught up in the intense emotions of our circumstances, and we lose sight of His love.

Methinks this is partly because we’re blind, dim-witted sheep, eh? Aye. Indeed.

And so, we fumble about in darkness. We put far too much stock in our pathetic senses and wit. Therefore, beloved, let us ponder anew what He has already done for us, shall we? Don’t you remember?

My fuzzy mind, it faintly recalls a desperate time, indeed. A time when we had altogether gone astray. Yes. Oh my, what a fretful time it was!

O, beloved, we were lost; helpless, forlorn, miserable. But then, o, beloved (said reverently)…but then! We were found!

So, what then shall we say?

What? You think He went through all that trouble so as to now leave us here all alone? Pish posh.

Oh, and I suppose you, perhaps, think He’s forgotten? Uh-huh. Right. (said ever so skeptically) Just like you “forget” your love of self?
“Oh, where has my beloved gone?”
“Oh, beloved, you cannot be found?!”

What!? No. You’re ridiculous - you despicable creature. You really are dim-witted.

If you, as dim-witted as you most surely are, cannot seem to forget your beloved soul, how can your Shepherd King?

“How about regret?” - says he.

Oh, sure. Of course. That makes perfect sense. (said with a heavy sigh) You think He, the Omnipotent, Omniscient, all-powerful God, infinitely Sovereign, the One called Love, could have regret after doing anything? Dim-witted, you are, indeed.

O, my tender-hearted beloved (said compassionately). You have trouble understanding, because…it’s so very sweet, yes? Because it’s so very lovely, it’s hard to imagine it can be true, yes? But, oh, dear child of God, it is true. Verily so! It’s most definitively true beyond comprehension.

You can keep trying, beloved, to materialize some excuse, some reason, some explanation…to convince yourself, but it’s to no avail.

Rest, little one. Rest your heart now. There, there. You are secure. You are safe. You may not feel as such, but you are. Aye, safer than you could ever imagine.

And so, once more, what shall we say to all of these things? All of these concerns? All of these doubts?

“Good riddance!” Yes, that'll do.

Now, take heart, O my soul!

He loved you; He loves you still; He will most definitely always love you.

Have no fear, beloved.

What Are the Clouds?

The clouds are the dust of his feet.

– Nahum 1:3 (ESV)

–––

It IS POSSIBLE for a man to read too many books. We will not despise learning, we will not undervalue erudition, such acquisitions are very desirable; and, when his talents are sanctified to God, the man of learning frequently becomes in the hands of the Spirit far more useful than the ignorant and the unlearned; but at the same time, if a man acquire his knowledge entirely from books, he will not find himself to be a very wise man. There is such a thing as heaping so many books on your brains that they cannot work—pouring such piles of type, and letters, and manuscripts, and papers, and prints, and pamphlets, and volumes, and tomes, and folios, upon your weary head, that your brains are absolutely buried and cannot move at all. I believe that many of us, whilst we have sought to learn by books, have neglected those great volumes which God has given us; we have neglected to study this great book, the Bible! moreover, perhaps, we have not been careful enough students of the great volume of nature, and we have forgotten that other great book, the human heart…

But if there be one book I love to read above all others, next to the book of God, it is the volume of nature. I care not what letters they are that I read, whether they be the golden spellings of the name of God up yonder in the stars, or whether I read, in rougher lines, his name printed on the rolling floods, or see it hieroglyphed in the huge mountain, the dashing cataract, or the waving forest…

The way of God is generally a hidden one. His footsteps cannot be seen, for, planted on the sea, the next wave washes them out; and placed in the storm, rioting as the air then is, every impression of his chariot wheels is soon erased. Look at God, and at whatever he has deigned to do, and you will always see him to have been a hidden God. He has concealed himself, and all his ways have been veiled in the strictest mystery. Consider his works of salvation. How did he hide himself when he determined to save mankind? He did not manifestly reveal himself to our forefathers. He gave them simply one dim lamp of prophecy which shone in words like these "The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head;" and for four thousand years God concealed his Son in mystery, and no one understood what the Son of God was to be…

God marched in clouds, "He walked in the whirlwinds;" he did not deign to tell the world what he was about to do; for it is his plan to gird himself in darkness, and "the clouds are the dust of his feet." Ah! and so it always has been in Providence as well as grace. God never condescends to make things very plain to his creatures. He always does rightly; and therefore, he wants his people always to believe that he does rightly. But if he showed them that he did so, there would be no room for their faith…

Compared with God there is nothing great. True, there are some things which are little with man that are great with God. Such are our sins which we call little, but which are great with him; and his mercies, which we sometimes think are little, he knows are very great mercies towards such great sinners as we are. Things which we reckon great are very little with God. If ye knew what God thought of our talk sometimes, you would be surprised at yourselves. We have some great trouble—we go burdened with it, saying, "O Lord God! what a great trouble I am burdened with." Why, methinks, God might smile at us, as we do sometimes at a little child who takes up a load too heavy for it (but which ye could hold between your fingers), and staggereth, and saith, "Father, what a weight I am carrying." So there are people who stagger under the great trouble which they think they are bearing. Great, beloved! There are no great troubles at all: "the clouds are the dust of his feet." If you would but so consider them, the greatest things with you are but little things with God. Suppose, now, that ye had all the troubles of all the people in the world, that they all came pouring on your devoted head: what are cataracts of trouble to God?—" Drops in the bucket." What are whole mountains of grief to him? Why, "he taketh up the mountains as the dust of the balance." And he can easily remove your trials. Sit not down then thou son of weariness and want, and say, "My troubles are too great." Hear the voice of mercy: "Cast thy burden on the Lord and he will sustain thee, he will never suffer the righteous to be moved." You shall hear two Christians talk. One of them will say, "O my troubles, and trials, and sorrows, they are so great I can hardly sustain them; I do not know how to support my afflictions from day to day." The other says, "Ah! my troubles and trials are not less severe, but, nevertheless, they have been less than nothing. I could laugh at impossibilities, and say they shall be done." What is the reason of the difference between these men? The secret is, that one of them carried his troubles, and the other did not. It does not matter to a porter how heavy a load may be, if he can find another to carry it all for him. But if he is to carry it all himself, of course he does not like a heavy load. So one man bears his troubles himself and gets his back nearly broken; but the other cast his troubles on the Lord. Ah! it does not matter how heavy troubles are if you can cast them on the Lord. The heavier they are so much the better, for the more you have got rid of, and the more there is laid upon the Rock. Never be afraid of troubles. However heavy they are, God's eternal shoulders can bear them. He, whose omnipotence is testified by revolving planets, and systems of enormous worlds, can well sustain you. Is his arm shortened, that he cannot save, or is he weary, that he cannot hold you fast? Your troubles are nothing to God, for the very "clouds are the dust of his feet."…

Some say that I am getting very enthusiastic about the latter-day glory, and the coming of our Saviour Jesus Christ. Well, I don't know. I get all the happier the more enthusiastic I am, so I hope I shall keep on at it, for I believe there is nothing so comforts a servant of God as to believe that his Master is coming. I hope to see him. I should not be surprised to see Jesus Christ to-morrow morning. He may come then. "In such an hour as ye think not, the Son of Man cometh." He who learns to watch for Christ, will never be surprised when he cometh. Blessed shall that servant be, whom, when his Lord cometh, he shall find busy about his duty. But some say he cannot come yet; there are so many clouds, and so much darkness in the sky, it cannot be expected that the sun will rise yet. Is that a fair reason? Do the clouds ever impede the sun? The sun moves on despite all the mists; and Jesus Christ can come clouds or no clouds.

– “What Are the Clouds?“ - The New Park Street Pulpit Vol I pg. 277 (C.H. Spurgeon)

---

The clouds are the dust of His feet.

O, my soul! What a wonderfully delightful truth! How we love the clouds, do we not!? But, we didn’t ever, really, fully know why…

Perhaps, now, we’re slowly beginning to understand?

They’re beautiful - of course! And always unique! They display a lovely array of colors; shades of light and dark. Clouds reveal dazzling complexity and intrigue. But…

…if this is true…if the clouds are truly the dust of His feet…do you know what this means?! O, beloved (said reverently). Hark!

This is a visible sign of His presence, yes?! His movement. His work. Although we cannot see our Beloved, we are privileged to witness the dust that is ruffled about by His passing! O, beloved! What joy! Yes?!

The clouds were already magnificent without this truth! But oh! WITH this truth…I can hardly speak good enough words to emanate clearly the delight within!

–––

O, God, our Almighty One!

How I marvel at your splendor! I am in awe of You. Thank you for this truth! Thank you for the visible sight of your clouds! Thank you for rummaging about in the firmament so we can witness your doings! Thank you for this comfort to my soul. Oh, how I love Thee.

How I long to be with Thee, some Day.

Amen.

Judgement's Propitiation

Moreover the law entered, that the offence might abound. But where sin abounded, grace did much more abound.

—Romans 5:20 (KJV)

Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.

—Romans 5:20 (ESV)

–––

Methinks I hear some say, "How unwise it must have been that a law should come to make these things abound!" Does it not, at first sight, seem very harsh that the great author of the world should give us a law which will not justify, but indirectly cause our condemnation to be greater? Does it not seem to be a thing which a gracious God would not reveal, but would have withheld? But, know ye, "that the foolishness of God is wiser than men;" and understand ye that there is a gracious purpose even here. Natural men dream that by a strict performance of duty they shall obtain favor, but God saith thus: "I will show them their folly by proclaiming a law so high that they will despair of attaining unto it. They think that works will be sufficient to save them. They think falsely, and they will be ruined by their mistake. I will send them a law so terrible in its censures, so unflinching it its demands, that they cannot possibly obey it, and they will be driven even to desperation, and come and accept my mercy through Jesus Christ. They cannot be saved by the law—not by the law of nature. As it is, they have sinned against it. But yet, I know, they have foolishly hoped to keep my law, and think by works of the law they may be justified; whereas I have said, 'By the works of the law no flesh living can be justified;' therefore I will write a law—it shall be a black and heavy one—a burden which they cannot carry; and then they will turn away and say, 'I will not attempt to perform it; I will ask my Saviour to bear it for me.

Imagine a case—Some young men are about to go to sea, where I foresee they will meet with a storm. Suppose you put me in a position where I may cause a tempest before the other shall arise. Well, by the time the natural storm comes on, those young men will be a long way out at sea, and they will be wrecked and ruined before they can put back and be safe. But what do I? Why, when they are just at the mouth of the river, I send a storm, putting them in the greatest danger, and precipitating them ashore, so that they are saved. Thus did God. He sends a law which shows them the roughness of the journey. The tempest of law compels them to put back to the harbour of free grace, and saves them from a most terrible destruction, which would otherwise overwhelm them. The law never came to save men. It never was its intention at all. It came on purpose to make the evidence complete that salvation by works is impossible, and thus to drive the elect of God to rely wholly on the finished salvation of the gospel…

The law causes the offence to abound by discovering sin to the soul. When once God the Holy Ghost applies the law to the conscience, secret sins are dragged to light, little sins are magnified to their true size, and things apparently harmless become exceedingly sinful. Before that dread searcher of the hearts and trier of the reins makes his entrance into the soul, it appears righteous, just, lovely, and holy; but when he reveals the hidden evils, the scene is changed. Offenses which were once styled peccadilloes, trifles, freaks of youth, follies, indulgences, little slip, &c., then appear in their true colour, as breaches of the law of God, deserving condign punishment.

– “Law and Grace“ - The New Park Street Pulpit Vol I pg. 287, 289 (C.H. Spurgeon)

---

[56] The sting of death is sin; and the strength of sin is the law. [57] But, thanks be unto God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

—1 Corinthians 15:56-57 (KJV)

[56] The sting of death is sin, and the power of sin is the law. [57] But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.

—1 Corinthians 15:56-57 (ESV)

–––

Christ has taken away the strength of sin in this respect, that he has removed the law. We are not under bondage, but under grace. Law is not our directing principle, grace is. Do not misunderstand me. The principle that I must do a thing—that is to say, the principle of law, "do, or be punished; do, or be rewarded," is not the motive of the Christian's life; his principle is grace: "God has done so much for me, what ought I to do for him?" We are not under the law in that sense, but under grace.

Then Christ has removed the law in this sense, that he has completely satisfied it. The law demands a perfect righteousness; Christ says, "Law, thou hast it; find fault with me; I am the sinner's substitute; have I not kept thy commandments? Wherein have I violated thy statutes?" "Come here, my beloved," he says, and then he cries to Justice, "Find a fault in this man; I have put my robe upon him; I have washed him in my blood; I have cleansed him from his sin. All the past is gone; as for the future, I have secured it by sanctification; as for the penalty, I have borne it myself; at one tremendous draught of love I have drunk that man's destruction dry; I have borne what he should have suffered; I have endured the agonies he ought to have endured. Justice, have I not satisfied thee? Did I not say upon the tree, and didst thou not coincide with it, 'It is finished; it is finished?' Have I not made so complete an atonement that there is now no need for that man to die and expiate his guilt? Do I not complete the perfect righteousness of this poor, once condemned, but now justified spirit?" "Yes" saith Justice, "I am well satisfied, and even more content, if possible, than if the sinner had brought a spotless righteousness of his own."

– “Thoughts on the Last Battle“ - The New Park Street Pulpit Vol I pg. 178, 179 (C.H. Spurgeon)

---

“Come here, my beloved” - those words, they…

…they melt me.

–––

O, Jesus, can this be true? It is true!

O, Lamb of God, You have satisfied Justice on my behalf. I…am overwhelmed by your love. O, King, I bow before you now in humble submission and praise.

O, God, I am in awe of your divine purposes! You, giving us your law, was indeed a great mercy. And then…your grace!?

O, merciful Savior! You are SO very good! Thank you!

I love you.

Amen.