Sickness is often a painful remembrancer. The, past, which seemed forgotten, comes back with its train of omissions and commissions; promises and vows, which never were fulfilled--privileges and warnings which passed by unimproved--and solemn knockings at the chamber of the soul which made only a slight and momentary impression. Have we never realized this? Have not our hearts trembled at the revived record of other days?
But oh, what is our recollection when compared with the omniscience of God! He has seen and recorded thoughts and words and deeds from our very childhood. To Him all hearts are open, and from Him no secrets are hid. He has watched our every movement, and there has not been within us, a secret purpose, a sinful desire, an unholy thought, which has escaped His notice. How often has He warned us when we were treading the path of sin--warned us by His providence and by His grace--warned us by His word and ministers--warned us by blighted hopes and shattered plans--warned us by threatening to snap asunder the frail cord of life, and terminate forever the possibility of a return to Him!
Well may our hearts fail us when we consider what "bitter things" God has written against us. "When I called you did not answer"--"They would have none of my counsel; they despised all my reproof"--"They hearkened not, but hardened their neck"--"You will not come unto me that you might have life." Oh, how often these "bitter things" have been written against us! And every year has added to their number and aggravation, for every year we owed it to the mercy and forbearance of God that He did not cut us off in the midst of our sins.
Blessed be God, dark as the record has been--stained with the blackest ingratitude, and foul and polluted as it must have appeared to "Him who is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity," we are not abandoned to despair! No! there is hope--hope in the crucified Savior, hope in His precious blood, hope in His all-sufficient atonement, hope in His all-prevailing intercession. Lamb of God! we would turn to You! By Your agony and bloody sweat, by Your cross and passion, by Your precious death and burial, by Your glorious resurrection and ascension, we beseech You have mercy upon us!
Yes, fellow-sufferers, let our ground of hope be in Christ, the Arbitrator between God and us--the Mediator who for our sakes was nailed to the accursed tree--the mighty Intercessor who pleads for us at the Father's right hand. "Bitter things" have been written against us, and we have no words, no merits of our own to plead; we are "poor, and wretched, and miserable, and blind, and naked:" "nothing in our hands we bring--simply to the cross we cling." But there we cannot perish. Deep as is the mountain of our guilt, deeper, far deeper is that ocean of infinite love in which God has promised to bury it forever, and to remember it no more against us. O mercy unspeakable! These "bitter things" let us mourn over, let us cherish at their recollection that "godly sorrow which works repentance unto salvation, not to be repented of;" let us grieve because we ever sinned against a God so gracious, merciful, and compassionate--against a Savior so loving, tender, and sympathizing--against a Holy Spirit so patient, and gentle, and forbearing. Let us pray for grace to serve our God with more fidelity, that in everything we may seek to please Him, that our inmost hearts may be given up to Him, and that we may present "our bodies and spirits as living sacrifices unto Him, which is our reasonable service."
And in our present season of sickness and suffering, let us resolve to take cheerfully whatever God may see fit to appoint. Pain, and distress, and sorrow are what we have justly merited, but "the Lord is very piteous and of tender mercy." He may have compassion upon us, and send relief. Having cast all our care on him, let us believe that He cares for us, that He has, and can have, no other object in His dealings towards us but simply and solely that of making us holy and happy forever. Not that pain and sorrow have of themselves the power to make us so; they naturally irritate and vex the spirit; but, by God's blessing, suffering is made the means of carrying on His cure within us. Under the leading of His grace, sorrow draws us to Him who can alone renew and sanctify the heart; it will bring us to Him who is the true and only Purifier--who will bend our wills to His will--so that we shall love what He loves, and choose what He chooses--and make us such as He would have us to be. Then will we wait patiently for Him, and seek His purifying Spirit, and cling to the cross of Jesus, and we will not desire to escape any of God's corrections or judgments, feeling that by this we would only be escaping one great means of preparing us for future blessedness. And, whatever our lot on earth may be, is it not better than we deserve? Amid all our troubles, have we not much to be thankful for? There are sadder hearts than ours, heavier burdens, and more painful agonies.
Besides, God means to draw us to Himself, and He will do it in His own way. He made us for eternity, and His aim in all He does is to bring us happily into it. Hence the necessity of pain, sickness, crosses, to break the strong chain which binds us to the world, and to induce us to take part with God in His grand design. He will draw us, and securely lead us to Himself, in a way contrary to all our natural will, until He has divested us thereof, and consumed and made it thoroughly subject unto the Divine will. For this is His design--that we should cease to regard our own wishes or dislikes; that it should become a small matter whether He gives or takes away, whether we have health or sickness, joy or sorrow, if only we may receive and apprehend God himself; that whether things please or displease us, we may leave all things to take their course, and cleave to Him. The "poor in spirit" are those who humbly take from day to day what God sends them, who are thankful for what they have, and think it far more than they deserve.
Reader, endeavor then to be an example of patience and thankfulness. If a murmuring word, or repining thought, arises in your mind, look by faith upon your dying Savior, and ask your own heart, "Was not His suffering more painful than the bed on which I lie? and He endured it that the 'bitter things' recorded against me might be blotted out forever!" This, believe it, is the only true foundation of peace of soul and contentment of mind--that our peace is made with God by Jesus Christ His only Son, who has taken our sins upon Himself, and borne the punishment of them, and who in exchange has given us His righteousness, by which we are made righteous before God. Oh, then, feel assured that God loves you too dearly to send anything that would harm you! The Savior has pleaded for you--is now pleading for you; and what you will receive must be a "blessing." It may not seem so to you; it may appear a punishment, as if those "bitter things" had roused the anger of God against you; but it is not so. You are "chastened of the Lord, that you may not be condemned with the world." Trials are sent in tenderest love. Receive them, then, meekly from your Father's gracious hands. Pray that He would hallow them to you--that He would by them work out His own blessed purpose in you, and impress daily more and more the likeness of the ever-blessed Savior. Banish the first risings of doubt, as if God were unkind or unmindful of you. He knows every throb of your brow, each hardly-drawn breath, each beating of the fevered pulse, each sinking of the aching head, and He says to you--
"Take you your cross, my son; nor may you choose; The cross I give is best; do not refuse. Renounce your will; seek nothing of your own; O Follow Me; you can not walk alone."
Heavenly Father, give me grace at all times to trust Your love, and to receive thankfully what You send. Lord, I am not worthy of the least of Your mercies. I have sinned, and done very wickedly. My transgressions are more than can be numbered, and the remembrance of them is very grievous to me. But You, O God, are rich in mercy. For the sake of Your dear Son, my Savior Jesus Christ, forgive my iniquities, and remember them no more against me forever. Oh, increase my love of holiness! Let the mind that was in Christ be also in me. Transform me by Your Holy Spirit into His blessed image, so that I may love what You love, and choose what You chose, and make it my food and drink to do Your holy will. Grant that I may ever bear with patience the discipline I am called to undergo, assured that You will not leave me nor forsake me, and that all things will be ordered for my happiness and well-being throughout eternity.
Give me grace, O God, to glorify You in time, that I may enjoy You for evermore. And all I ask is for the sake of Jesus Christ my Savior. Amen.
