O Lord! of what small account are the best of men apart from Thee! How high they rise when Thou liftest them up! How low they fall if Thou withdraw Thy hand! It is our joy, amidst distress, when Thou enablest us to say, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him;" but if Thou take away Thy Spirit, we cannot even trust Thee in the brightest day. When storms gather round us we can smile at them, if Thou be with us; but in the fairest morn which ever shone on human heart, we doubt and we miscarry if Thou be not with us still, to preserve and strengthen the faith which Thou hast Thyself bestowed.
The Glad Command.
Delight thyself in the Lord." This law of one command is no stony law to be written upon tablets of granite, but it contains a precept, for sparkling brightness worthy to be written on amethysts and pearls. "Delight thyself in the Lord." When delight becomes a duty, duty must certainly be a delight. When it becomes my duty to be happy, and I have an express command to be glad, I must indeed be foolish if I refuse my own joys, and turn aside from my own bliss. O, what a God we have, who has made it our duty to be happy! What a gracious God, who accounts no obedience to be so worthy of his acceptance as a gladsome obedience rendered by a joyous heart. "Delight thyself in the Lord."
Untiring Delight.
Who ever called the sea monotonous? Even to the mariner, travelling over it as he does, sometimes by the year together, there is always a freshness in the undulation of the waves, the whiteness of the foam of the breaker, the curl of the crested billow, and the frolicsome pursuit of every wave by its long train of brothers. Which of us has ever complained that the sun gave us but little variety? What though at morn he yoke the same steeds, and flash from his car the same golden glory, climb with dull uniformity the summit of the skies, then drive his chariot downward, and bid his flaming coursers steep their burning fetlocks in the western deep? Or who among us would complain loathingly of the bread which we eat, that it palls upon the sense of taste? We eat it to-day, to-morrow, the next day; we have eaten it for years which are passed; still the one unvarying food is served upon the table, and bread remains the staff of life. Translate these earthly experiences into heavenly mysteries. If Christ is your food and your spiritual bread; if Christ is your sun, your heavenly light; if Christ is the sea of love in which your passions swim, and all your joys are found, it is not possible that you as Christian men, should complain of monotony in Him. "He is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever;" and yet He has the "dew of His youth." He is like the manna in the golden pot, which was always the same; but he is also like the manna which came down from heaven, every morning new. He is as the rod of Moses, which was dry, and changed not its shape; but he is also to us as the rod of Aaron, which buds, and blossoms, and brings forth almonds.