"Yet the Lord!" The believer, even in his deepest and darkest season of trouble, has always this alternative word—"Yet the Lord will!" I am sunk in sore trial—"Yet the Lord" will be faithful to His promises! I have been bereaved of those near and dear to me—"Yet the Lord" will be to me a name better than that of son or daughter! I have been laid for long years on this couch of suffering—"Yet the Lord" has converted this lonely sick-chamber into the vestibule of heaven. I have been tossed and harassed with countless spiritual temptations—"Yet the Lord" will not suffer these temptations to go further than I am able to bear. I am soon to walk through the dark valley—"Yet" will "I fear no evil, for Thou art with me!"
The Psalmist's assurance of deliverance was indeed the test of no meagre faith. We know well, how apt we are to be influenced and affected by present circumstances. When all is bright, and genial, and prosperous,—amid a happy home and kind friends,—in the midst of robust health and flourishing worldly schemes, the buoyant heart is full of elasticity. The joy without, imparts an inner sunshine. A man is happy and hopeful in spite of himself. But if all at once he is plunged into a vortex of trouble,—if clouds gather and thicken around,—the mind not only becomes the prey of its own trials, but it peoples the future with numberless imaginary evils, and its very remaining joys and blessings become tinged and sicklied over with the predominating sadness! It could as little be expected, on natural principles, that the heart could in such circumstances be hopeful and rejoicing, as to expect that the outer landscape of nature would glow and sparkle with beauty, if the clouds of heaven obscured the great fountain of light.
But faith, strong in God's word, can triumph over natural obstacles. It did so in the case of this afflicted exile. He remembered how his God had vouchsafed past deliverances, even when he least expected them;—"They looked unto Him and were lightened"[76] [literally, "their countenances were made bright.">[ He feels assured that the same loving-kindness will be "commanded" still. He sees God's covenant faithfulness resting calmly and beautifully, like the rainbow-tints in the spray of the cataract! "Who is among you that feareth the Lord, that obeyeth the voice of his servant, that walketh in darkness, and hath no light? let him trust in the name of the Lord, and stay upon his God."[77]
This experience we have been considering is that of Christ's people only. But there is an experience sadder still: that of those who are living "without God," and therefore "without hope;"—the billows heaving, and yet they knowing not of them;—"deep calling to deep," yet they ignorant alike of their guilt and danger! There is nothing more sad or touching in the midst of a storm,—when the vessel is reeling on the waves, and little expectation of safety is left,—than to see, amidst the settled gloom of despair, the little child playing on the deck, all unaware of what is impending;—or, at a time of heart-rending bereavement, when every face of the household is muffled in sadness and suffused with tears, to hear the joyous laugh and playful prattle of unconscious infancy. Ah! of how many is this the position with regard to eternity;—living heedless of their danger—the waves of destruction ready to close over them! Sadder far, surely, is their case, than all the troubles and trials of God's most afflicted people. Their waves and billows are crested with hope—"songs in the night" come floating along the darkened surges; but the future to the others has no ray of hope, no midnight star, no divine song! There is a time coming when, in a more awful sense, the cry will be heard, "Deep calleth unto deep: all Thy waves and Thy billows have gone over me!" But there will be no after-strain—no joyous anthem of anticipated deliverance—"Yet the Lord will command His loving-kindness!" In vain will the cry ascend, "My heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the Rock that is higher than I."
But, blessed be God, that cry may ascend now—that Rock may be fled to as a shelter now. Sinner! these waves swept over the Rock of Ages, that they might not sweep over you! Sheltered in these crevices, you will be eternally safe. Not one blast of the storm, not one drop of the rain-shower of vengeance, can overtake you. When the billows of wrath—the deluge of fire—shall roll over this earth, safe in these everlasting clefts, you may utter the challenge, "Who shall separate me from the love of Christ?"
X.
Lessons.
"When darkness long has veil'd my mind,