"And when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a spirit--and they cried out for fear. But immediately Jesus spoke onto them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid."--Matthew 14:26, 27
During a long and tempestuous night, the disciples had to struggle against the stormy billows. Doubtless they felt weary, oppressed, well-near hopeless; but even then it was that deliverance was given. After having been driven all night long--not so much by storms and waves as by their own anxious, troubled thoughts--in the fourth watch (which was near to the morning) Jesus came to them; and so strange and unexpected was the sight, that, instead of joy, their first emotion was terror--"they cried out for fear," they did not recognize their Deliverer, but imagined that they saw a spirit. Yet He had purposely delayed His coming that He might exercise their patience--that He might teach them to wait upon Divine Providence in cases of extremity--that their devotions might be more whetted by delay--and that they might more gladly welcome their deliverance.
For the selfsame purpose Jesus often delays His coming to His disciples still. He permits sorrow upon sorrow to come upon them. He leaves them in pain, and sickness, and anguish until they are, as it were, in the depth of extremity. It is the fourth watch with them; but the storm still rages, the darkness continues, and their Protector, their Friend, is not near. Oh, how often in such a dreary hour has Jesus come to His disciples--come to them amid the gloom, walking in majesty upon the stormy wave--come to them that He might say as of old on the Sea of Galilee, "It is I; be not afraid."
Yes, Christian, could we ask those blessed ones who are now hymning His praises above, "When was it that the Savior was felt most precious by you?" oh, they would answer, "It was in the dreary night of our suffering, when we lay helpless, hopeless--'twas in the hour of extremity, when there seemed no prospect of deliverance--'twas in the hour of sore distress, when our hearts were torn with anguish, and our prayers had become intensely urgent, and we felt that if He did not help us, 'vain was the help of man,'--'twas even then that the blessed Jesus revealed Himself, calmed our fears, and bade us be of good cheer."
Or ask, if you will, that patient sufferer, at whose calmness you have often wondered, and whose language is ever that of child-like submission and acquiescence to the will of God--ask the same question, and you will be told, "Never did I feel my Lord so dear, never did I realize His love, His power, His grace, so fully as on my bed of languishing, when He came to me in the night-watches, and permitted me to unbosom myself to Him, and rest my weary head upon His breast. Oh, it was then He promised to be ever near me, to strengthen me under suffering, to give me patience to endure my Father's will, and to make His 'grace sufficient' for me. I know that He sends me trial--that He has commissioned this sickness--that He mingles the cup which I have to drink, and I know also that these things are needed for my soul's welfare. Shall I not then welcome what is sent me in love, when I know and have the assurance that in every hour when my suffering is greatest, my pain most agonizing, my trouble most grievous and burdensome, Jesus will come to my help--come to encourage and strengthen me--come to show me what He has suffered for my sake--to tell me that the sorrows which oppress my soul weighed more heavily on His--that the foes I have to battle with more fiercely assailed Him--that I but taste the bitter cup, while He had to drain it--that there fall on me only a few drops of the mighty tempest which spent its rage on Him--and that as He 'learned obedience by the things He suffered,' so His grace will enable me to do it also."
Thus have God's children found that suffering times were blessed times--that they never had such nearness to their Father, such holy freedom with Him, and such heavenly comforts from Him, as under the cross; it only took away what checked the current of His love, His peace, His joy in their hearts. The cross, be it what it may--pain, sickness, calamity, loss of friends, fortune, fame--is the greatest blessing on this side heaven, because by it the Father keeps the children in the closest communion that they have with Him on earth--by it He purges them, makes them fruitful, and partakers of His holiness--by it He crucifies the life of sense, deadens them to the world, and mortifies their lusts and passions; and by it, as the outward man perishes, the inward man is renewed day by day. They receive new life, new strength, new comfort, new peace--they become more and more conformed to the First-born among many brethren, both in suffering and by suffering--they tread the steps of those who have "entered into rest," and come up "from the wilderness leaning on the arm of the Beloved."
Christian, take comfort when you think of the mighty cloud of witnesses who would thus testify to your Savior's constant care and unchanging love. Think on what He has already done for you. He groaned, bled, and died for you. You were lost, but He found you--an enemy, but He reconciled you--a captive, but He freed you--blind, but He cured you--dead, but He quickened you. Oh! when you reflect how He has watched over you since you have received the knowledge of the truth as it is in Jesus--how He has preserved you from dangers, supported you in seasons of temptation, supported you in times of trial, cherished you in days of sickness, comforted you in the hours of despondency--you cannot surely imagine that He will now desert you, you cannot believe that He will so mar the work of His own hands--the labor of His own love--as to cast you off, and leave you to perish. If He sought you when a stranger, will He not take care of you when a child? If the enemy was loved, how much more the friend?
Will He refuse to answer the prayers He himself has prompted--to fulfill the hopes He himself has inspired--to honor the confidence He himself has encouraged--and to complete the work He himself has begun? Oh no! Learn to have more confidence in your Savior; more reliance upon Him who has said, "I have loved you with an everlasting love; therefore with loving-kindness have I drawn you"--more dependence upon Him who poured out His precious blood to reconcile you to God.
Let your feeling ever be-- "You did it, who are gone on high, Where many mansions be, There to prepare a glorious home, And deathless friends for me. Shall I rebel against the love That fits me for my home above? Ah no! even through this load of fears My heart is springing up, To thank You for the boundless grace That overflows my cup!"
Your suffering may now be great, your days and nights may be full of anxiety and restlessness--the star of hope may even be obscured by the mists of darkness which surround you; yet, take courage! You are meeting the storm which the Savior himself has permitted to rage--you are battling with elements which He can in a moment control--you are passing through a night through which has already passed the Man of Sorrows--and soon He will come to you.
That voice which never speaks in vain will command the storm to cease--Your best, your dearest Friend--the "Consolation of Israel"--will say to you, "'Be of good cheer;' I know how you have borne and suffered during these weary hours. I know every trial through which you have passed, and which the world has never known--sorrows which could not, and ought not, to be communicated but to Me alone. I know your every prayer for guidance--your every effort to bear well and patiently what I have laid upon you, and to profit by the visitation. From the calm shores of the land of everlasting life have I watched you, my trembling disciple, toiling through the waves of this troublesome world--and now I have come to you upon the billows, that I may be near you in the time of extremest peril; and, behold, I am with you in the ship! Fear not! Those who follow me shall never walk in darkness--your footsteps shall not slip--mercy shall hold you up when dangers encompass you about--and though the sunshine of this world's joys be dim for you, in My light shall you see light."
"Oh you who mourns on your way, With longings for the close of day, He walks with you, that Savior kind, And gently whispers, 'Be resigned; Bear up--bear on--the end shall tell Your Lord does order all things well.'"
Oh, then, afflicted one, be not cast down, neither be dismayed. Faint not under your sorrows--but strive to wear out your three watches of tribulation with undaunted patience and holy resolution. Let songs of praise arise from the ark in which you are securely borne along amid the raging storm--"God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble--therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea--though the waters roar and are troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof. Though deep calls unto deep at the noise of your waterfalls, and all your waves and your billows are gone over me--yet the Lord will command his loving-kindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life. O Lord God Almighty, who is a strong Lord like unto you? or to your faithfulness round about you? You rule the raging of the sea--when the waves arise, you still them. Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disturbed within me? hope in God; for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God."
Let these strains mingle with the roaring of the storm, and the dashing of the angry billows, and soon the ear of faith will hear, louder than the loud wind, those accents which have so often calmed the fears, and stilled the apprehensions of Christ's trembling disciples--"O you afflicted, tossed with tempest, and not comforted! I hid my face from you for a moment; but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on you. For the mountains shall depart, and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from you, neither shall the covenant of my peace be removed, says the Lord that has mercy on you. Fear not, for I have redeemed you, I have called you by your name--you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior."
Be not far from me, O Lord--for trouble is near. Fearfulness and trembling have taken hold upon me; let Your strength come in to support me. The sorrows of death compass me. Look upon my affliction and my pain, and forgive all my sins. Help me, O Lord, for You are my hope. Appear for me when all human help fails. Make haste to help me. Give me patience to bear all my sufferings, and quietly to wait Your time for relief. You take pleasure in those who hope in Your mercy. Oh, increase my faith; sustain my hope in You. Forsake me not when my strength fails. If You, Lord, will be pleased to support me, nothing will be too heavy for me. Oh, make Your strength perfect in my weakness. You who delight in mercy, save me for Your mercy's sake. You have said You will not contend forever, neither will You be always angry; for the spirit would fail before You, and the souls which You have made. Oh, turn unto me and have mercy upon me, for the sake of Your well-beloved Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
