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A little while she was quiet. Then her life's sun sank to its rest. But the afterglow of that beautiful life still s.h.i.+nes in that community.
Circ.u.mstances later took me far away; but after sixteen years, I again stood upon the scene, and over and over during my stay the neighbors told me of her beautiful Christian life. Many a time during those years when I was tempted to do evil, I would behold that scene again, and those last words of my sainted mother would ring in my ears; they stood as a bulwark between my soul and evil.
The same afternoon that the message so dreadful came to me grandmother visited a neighbor who was drawing near to his life's sunset. When she came back, she told what pa.s.sed while she was there. The man was a skeptic. There was no life beyond the grave for him. There was no hope of reunion around the throne of G.o.d. Grandmother spoke to him of his approaching end and asked him if he was prepared. His answer I shall never forget. Young as I was, it struck me with terrible force. With a look of deepest melancholy on his face he said, "It is taking a leap into the dark."
A few days later he pa.s.sed away, and he and mother lie there in the little country cemetery waiting till the voice of the Son of G.o.d shall call them forth. But ah, the difference between those two life-sunsets! One left the glorious hope of a Christian s.h.i.+ning forth, tinting the sky with beauty; the other's sun sank into a dark cloud of despair, lighted only with the lurid glare of the lightning of G.o.d's wrath.
Reader, what will be your life's sunset? Will it be serene and calm and peaceful, lighted up with glory from the throne of G.o.d, or will it be dark, without a promise or ray of hope? You are fast hastening to that hour. It may be nearer than you think. If you live without G.o.d, you will die without G.o.d. Take a view of yourself now. Would you like for your life's sunset to find you as you now are? If not, what a.s.surance have you that it will be different? Good intentions will never change it. Good desires will never change it. G.o.d only can make you ready for that hour.
Unless you seek him, you too will take a "leap into the dark"; for you there will be only the "blackness of darkness forever." "If ye will hear his voice, harden not your heart."
TALK FIFTY. THE SCULPTOR'S WORK
One day years ago, as I was walking along in the suburbs of a city, I came to a large shed with wide-open doors. My attention was attracted by the sound of blows; and as I came opposite the door, I saw some workmen at the back end of the shed busily at work. Near the door on a small platform stood a large irregular piece of stone. Standing by it was a man with a large chisel in one hand and a heavy mallet in the other. As I looked he walked up to the stone and began to knock great pieces off it with chisel and mallet. I paused to watch him, my curiosity aroused to know what he was doing in his apparently aimless work.
As I watched, he continued breaking large flakes and pieces from the stone; and so far as I could see, he was just simply breaking it to pieces. I wondered what he wanted such pieces of stone for. But presently he began to kick them out of the way as if he had no use for them, and so I wondered still more what he was doing. After a time he stepped over to his work-box, took another chisel and a lighter mallet, and began to knock off more pieces of the stone. For a long time this continued. I could not tell what the outcome would be. So far I had seen nothing but destruction.
From time to time he changed tools; but still he cut away pieces of stone in the same seemingly aimless fas.h.i.+on. At length he began to cut depressions into the stone here and there.
A long time I watched him, still wondering. At last he made a few quick strokes on one end of the stone, and I saw the outline of a head appear. A few more strokes, and I exclaimed within myself, "A lion!" I watched until the head became more distinct and life-like. Then under the quick strokes of the biting chisel, one paw appeared, then another; and as I watched, the whole figure took outline, and I knew that what seemed to be only an aimless work of destruction was instead the skilled work of a sculptor.
I had seen only the block of stone; but within that block of stone he had seen the beautiful figure of the king of beasts. The work that seemed to me to be without purpose, now proved to have been full of purpose. The pieces of stone cut off were merely so much waste-material that hid the beautiful statue.
I knew now that what would be left of the stone after the sculptor had completed his work would go to adorn some fine building and to be looked upon and admired by many people. No one had admired it in its former state. It was only a block of stone, unattractive and of little value. But it would now be a thing of beauty to be treasured. Yet that change could take place only when the sharp steel had bitten away all useless parts.
I went away thoughtful. I realized that that was a great allegory of life.
The great Sculptor sees in every human being, no matter how rough and irregular, great possibilities. Whereas we can see only the exterior, he sees within the potential image with which he would adorn his glorious building above. Man was created in the image of G.o.d, but that image is now obscured by sin and its results. And so the divine Sculptor must do with us as the sculptor did with the stone. He must bring to bear upon us the sharp chisel of circ.u.mstances, of disappointment, of trial. It seems that these things will destroy us. It seems that these things are evil, and we shrink from them. Some think that G.o.d is not just toward them. Some cry out in pain. Some mourn and lament. Some cry to G.o.d to stay his hand. And many, oh, how many! rebel. They can not see what it means. They feel that it is all wrong. Sometimes they murmur against G.o.d and their hearts grow bitter; but all the time the Master Sculptor with his sharp chisel of pain is only trying to carve in their natures and characters his own image.
You want to be in his image, do you not? You desire the beautiful lines of righteousness, purity, truth, meekness, faithfulness, and kindness to appear in you. You want to be a part of the adornment of the heavenly temple. If you would be not a mere block of stone without form or beauty, but the image of the Creator, you must let Pain do her work in you; there is only one way. Christian character comes only through pain. If you shrink and murmur or if you rebel, that image may be marred forever.
Think not that G.o.d will let your life be ruined. He wants you for the adornment of his palace. So when pain comes-the pain of sorrow, of bereavement, of temporal loss, of being reproached and having your name cast out as evil, of being wounded by the tongue of slander-in whatever form pain comes to you, hold still; bear it patiently; it will work out in your life G.o.d's great design.
Would you have patience? You must have many things to try your patience.
Would you have meekness? You can obtain it only through endurance. Would you have faith? You must meet and overcome many obstacles. G.o.d puts in us latent qualities of good, but these can be brought to view in the solid structure of Christian character only by long and continued chiseling.
"Beloved, think it not strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened unto you" (1 Pet. 4: 12).
"Which _is_ to try you"-did you ever notice that? It does not say which _may_ try you or which _probably_ will try you; it says, "Which _is_ to try you." That signifies that it was _intended_ to try you. It was meant for that purpose; it does not come by accident. Trials are necessary. If you are ever to be what G.o.d wants you to be, you need trials, you must have them; you can never be strong or patient or meek or brave or possess any other virtue G.o.d wants you to have unless you stand the test. "Many shall be purified, made white, and tried." G.o.d will do the purifying; and he will also see that we get our "trying." "After that ye have suffered a while," Peter says, G.o.d will "make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you."
The chisel pain must do its work. Even Jesus was "made perfect through suffering." Let us bear it manfully, yea, joyfully, knowing that it will leave its mark upon us, even the mark of our Lord Jesus Christ. It will bring out the beauty and richness of the Christ-life and fit us to be in His presence forever.
TALK FIFTY-ONE. THE HELPLESSNESS OF THE GOSPEL
Much has been said about the power of the gospel. It is "the power of G.o.d unto salvation." By it millions have been redeemed and cheered and comforted and inspired. Others have been warned in tones of thunder to awakened consciences. It has been the greatest civilizer known. But however great its power and influence, however wonderful its accomplishments, there are conditions under which it is pitifully helpless, under which it can do nothing to help the peris.h.i.+ng ma.s.ses. You may take your Bible into a heathen land or to a race of another language, and though all its truth, its promises and warnings, its light and glory, are within its lids, yet it is dumb. It speaks not to them. They perish all around it. They remain in darkness, when light is there, heavenly, glorious light. Not a ray reaches them. It is helpless. It is voiceless; it speaks not to them its story of love. In your own home it may lie closed and silent. Visitors come and go, but it helps them not. Your children hear not its voice. Your neighbors receive not its counsel, warnings, nor promises. How helpless it is! Oh the many dumb Bibles in our land! If they only had tongues, what messages they would speak to the people! You have a tongue. Do you not often use it in a way that is of little profit either to you or to others? The Bible has no tongue to use.
Will you lend it yours? Will you let it speak its message with your tongue? Must your neighbors be lost because your Bible has no voice? O brother, sister, let your Bible be no longer dumb. Give it a tongue. There are hearts all around you needing its truth. Will you speak for it? A silent and voiceless Bible-what can be more helpless?
Again, if a tongue be lent it and its message be spoken and repeated again and again, what can it do if it is not believed? It is the power of G.o.d in this world only to "them that believe." If we will not believe it, it can do us no good. It can not save or comfort or heal unless it is believed.
Will you give it a believing heart? Unless you do, it is absolutely powerless to help you. Oh, how helpless is an unbelieved Bible!
And though it have a voice and speak ever so clearly, what can it do if the ears be closed against it? If "having ears, we hear not," but close our minds and hearts against its voice, it will profit us nothing. It can help not the least. Oh, give it a listening ear and heart!
The Bible has no hands. It can not reach out to the needy nor go about doing good. It can not clothe the naked nor feed the hungry. Why not give your hands to the gospel's use, that it may not be longer helpless?
It has no feet. It can not go from place to place, but must remain supine wherever it is put. It is a poor "shut-in." Who will pity its helplessness and give it feet, that it may go to the nations?
It has no money. It is as poor as a pauper. It can not pay its way to the yearning, hungry souls that await its coming. It needs its way paid to India, to Africa, to China. It needs to go to the ends of the earth. You can send some of its messages afar for a few cents, and perchance thus help it to reach a soul ready and waiting that will otherwise be lost.
There are tongues ready to speak for it; there are feet ready to run with it; but who will pay its fare? Have you money and houses and cattle and lands, and yet are not helping this helpless gospel on its mission of mercy? Must it fail to reach the people, that you may consume your means for the gratification of the flesh? Might not the money you have spent the past year needlessly, have sent the gospel to a number of lost souls?
Oh! pity the poor Bible, which has no tongue, no hands, no feet, and no money! How will it reach the lost? Give it your hands, your feet, your tongue, your pocketbook. Behold the countless throngs going down the broad way. Listen to the groans of the lost. Behold your own friends and neighbors and perhaps your own kindred on the way to h.e.l.l. Can you longer let the gospel be helpless and voiceless? What would you answer the lost in the judgment were they to say to you, "You had the Bible, but you did not tell us its truths. You did not carry or send it to us, and so we perish"? What will you do to help the Bible to save the world? The time is short. The shades of the evening are falling around us. "The night cometh, when no man can work."
TALK FIFTY-TWO. HE CARETH FOR YOU
"Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you" (1 Pet. 5: 7). G.o.d cares for us in the sense of having a personal interest in us. We are the work of his hands, and as such he is interested in our prosperity. He watches over the development of our lives; he notes every step of progress. The one who plants a flower, waters it, cares for it, and watches the development of each tiny shoot and bud, cares more for that flower and has a deeper interest in it than has the one who merely stops for a few minutes to admire its full-blown beauty and to enjoy its fragrance. To the one it is only one plant out of many, but to the other it has a special meaning and attraction and worth, because its bloom and fragrance are the result of his labor, care, and patience. It is his plant. So it is with G.o.d. He gave us our being; he has nourished and protected us and watched us develop day by day; he is interested in us and desires our lives to bloom and send forth a fragrance of trueness and purity all around. Let us so live that he will not be disappointed in us.
He cares for us because he created us for his glory and to fill a place in his eternal kingdom. He created us, not merely that we might have an existence, but for a purpose for himself. He wants us to make a success of our lives, not simply for our own advantage, but to fill the place for which he created us for his purpose and glory. And because of this he will use every endeavor to help us succeed in our lives.
He cares for us in the sense that he loves us. "The Father himself loveth you." "I have loved thee with an everlasting love." "G.o.d so loved the world." He has a deep and abiding affection for every soul, and even when we stray away from him into the depth of sin, his heart yearns over us as a mother over her erring boy, only his love is stronger than a mother's.
He sends his servants out to seek the lost, and his Spirit to plead with them. Sinner, he loves you. Though you have grieved him and have repelled his Spirit over and over again, yet his eye beams with pity, his heart is tender with love, and his arms are outstretched toward you to welcome you to his embrace.
If he thus cares for the rebellious and neglectful sinner, how much does he care for his own obedient, loving children! How tender his love!
Sometimes in a dark and troublesome hour when his face seems hidden, we may feel as did the disciples when they cried out in their distress, "Carest thou not that we perish?" Ah, he did care. At once he arose and rebuked the elements and brought the disciples safely to the land. Yea, he _does_ care. "He careth for _you_." His help may sometimes seem delayed, but it will come and just at the time to be most effective. In your joys and victories and seasons of refres.h.i.+ng he cares for you and also in the time of trial, of persecution, of heaviness and longing, and of bitterness of soul. In it all he cares, and he will bring you through when he sees the soul refined and fitted for his purpose. "He careth for you." Believe it. Let your soul exult in it and shout it aloud. Or if you can in your sorrow only whisper it, let your heart still say: "He loves and he cares.
I will trust him and be content."
Again, he cares for us in the sense of taking care of us. His care is proved in his making so beautiful a world to be our home. The flowers, the fruits, the grains, the gra.s.ses, the animals, the suns.h.i.+ne, the winds, the rains, and all were made to minister to man's need, comfort, and happiness. For us these exist. That we may be fed, he causes the earth to bring forth bountifully. That we may be clothed, he makes the cotton and the flax to grow out of the soil, the wool upon the sheep, and causes the silkworm to spin its glossy house. That we might be warmed, he made the coal, the gas, and the forests. That we might be protected, he made the stone, the wood, the iron, and the clay that we might have houses.
He cares also for our bodies, that we may have health. He gives us pure crystal water to quench our thirst and cool us in fever, balmy oxygen-laden air to build us up, and countless other blessings. Above all this, he is himself to us a Great Physician whose word heals our suffering bodies and takes us out of the grasp of death.
He cares for us spiritually, giving us his grace to help in every time of need-to s.h.i.+eld in temptation, to strengthen in trial, to make strong in adversity, courageous in danger, and valiant in conflict.
Truly, he cares for us. Let us doubt and fear no more, but commit ourselves to him, knowing that he will "in no wise fail" us.
TALK FIFTY-THREE. THREE TESTS OF LOVE