The Law will sometimes accomplish its results in ways far different from that which we would have supposed to be the best, but after time has passed we can look back and will see that the way by which the results were accomplished was the best possible under all the circumstances. We may meet with some bitter disappointments, losses, sorrows, but in the end these things will be seen as good—will be seen as having been necessary to give us the experience needed—to round out our characters—to enable us to understand.
There are none who would be willing to part with the experience gained from even the most painful events of their lives. After, say, ten years have elapsed no man would be willing to have the memory and recollection of his greatest pain eradicated; if at the same time he would have to part with the experience and knowledge which have come to him by reason of that pain. The pain and its resulting experience have become a part of us, and we are not willing to be robbed of our own.
And we will realize, in looking backward, that if we had been living in accordance with the Law in the past—if we had understood its workings—these very sorrows, disappointments, losses, would have been considered only in view of their ultimate good, and the very sting of the pain would thus have been removed. When we learn to regard the pain of to-day as we now do the pain of ten years ago, we may feel that we are beginning to understand something of the operation of the Law of Good. And when we reach this stage, we will find that the pain is no longer pain, but only a form of Good. When we cease to cause friction, friction no longer exists for us.
The lessons of life must be learned, sooner or later. It depends upon us whether they shall be forced upon us, in spite of our resistance, with much pain, or accepted by us, understandingly, with knowledge. In one case we will have the pain which comes from opposing the Law; in the other, we will learn the lesson equally well, without the pain of the birching. The lesson must be well learned in either case. Choose your method.
Now, I do not wish to be understood as meaning that we should simply fold our hands and wait for the Law to bring all things to us without any labor on our part. Try this way, though, if you like, and see how quickly the Law will rap you over the knuckles to remind you that a task is set before you. The proper way is to take up the task that lies nearest your hand (and some task is always there) and do it well, with the knowledge that the task has been placed there in accordance with the Law. If the task is not to your liking, you will know that that is the very reason that it has been placed before you—you have a lesson to learn from it. When the time comes for a change you will find a strong desire for a something else full-grown within you. Now is your chance. Trust to the Law to aid you in working out your desire. The desire is there in accordance with the Law—its very existence is a promise of its fulfillment. With the aid of the Law you will work out your desire. It is true that when you attain the object of your desire, it may not be just what you had thought it—may not be at all what you want. Well, what of that? You have learned the necessary lesson—have lived out the desire and will now outlive it. Something else will take its place. And you will be surprised at the way that Law has brought about the accomplishment of your desire. You will learn another lesson in this.
When you have learned to work on, merrily—doing your best—living out each day's life—with Faith and Trust, Confidence and Fearlessness—accepting the development of each day as meaning ultimate Good—seeing and feeling that the Law of Good is in full operation—being willing to accept whatever it may bring you—then, and not until then, good friend, will you begin to know what is LIFE.
LET US HAVE FAITH.
Faith necessary in every human undertaking—You have faith in man, but are afraid to trust GOD—The Universe if governed by Law—The Law is in operation everywhere—Don't be afraid—You are a part of the plan—Fall in with the Law—Have faith, have faith.
When you take a journey by rail, you step into the car, settle yourself, take out a book and read, and give little or no thought to the engine or engineer in charge of the train. You go rushing across the country at the rate of fifty miles an hour, with no thought of possible disaster or accident, and for the time forgetting that there is such a person in existence as the engineer. You have absolute faith in the careful management of the road, and in the intelligence of the man who has been placed in the engine. The lives of yourself and hundreds of fellow passengers are practically in the hands of one man, and that man is a stranger to you—you have never seen him—you know nothing of his qualifications—you only know that the management has picked him out to safely conduct you across the country.
You take a steamship to Europe and place yourselves in the hands of a few men who are total strangers to you. You stake your life on their skill, judgment and intelligence. You feel that they would not be where they are unless the management of the line considered them competent. It is all a matter of trust—of confidence. The same thing is true when you take your seat on a trolley car or on the elevated railroad, or even in a stage coach or a private carriage. In each case you place yourself in the charge of another person in whom you have a certain amount of confidence, although he may be comparatively, or wholly, unknown to you.