Day Unto Day—March

MARCH 1
“Whose I am and whom I serve”—Acts 27:23.

In a recent meditation we asked ourselves the question: “are we servants of the Lord Jesus Christ?” and concluded with the intention of examining our hearts on certain considerations connected with it. We said that formerly we could promptly answer the question, because our delight in and willing service of and even the search after—the motions of sin and Satan made it abundantly clear that we were the servants of the god of this world. But then we said that perhaps now we find it difficult to declare whether we are servants of God or no. Have we since examined ourselves in this matter? Why is the answer difficult? Is it not because a fresh condition of things within us has arisen?—because a new state of our being has come into existence? Whom do we—of choice—now serve? Cannot we, without hypocrisy, place our hand upon our bosom and say: Lord, “Thou knowest, if I could, I would serve Thee?” “Thou knowest that sin and Satan are ever waylaying me in nearly every street of my daily life, soliciting me to serve them, and that sometimes they so nearly overcome me, and sometimes bring me into such actual condemnation of spirit, that they are the sorrow, and if the truth be said, the terror of my life, and at times I fear that I shall one day fall completely again into their toils; but, yet, Thou knowest O, Lord—who knowest all things—that the real desire of my heart is to serve Thee, if only I could?” Then it appears that God possesses now the key to the doors of my heart? and that the other potentate spoken of is now an interloping would-be usurper? And we said the other day that my heart is myself. From this it further appears that my heart has been entered by God, as a conqueror, He having possessed Himself of the keys and cast the strong man armed from the throne and changed that evil spirit’s position from one of a monarch to that of a rebellious adversary. It is evident that whosoever is sovereign in my heart, to Him it belongs; and from all the forgoing I find the hope springing up that this is God; and Paul says: “Whose I am, Him I serve.” In spite of all my darkness there appears to be some reason, therefore, to hope that I am—however humble, sinning, falling and unworthy—a servant of the Lord Jesus Christ. Would that the evidences of this service were more manifest in my heart.

MARCH 2
“O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death”—Rom. 7:24.

We have recently been enquiring concerning our service of God—whether it is a fact or no. Let us not think, as perhaps some, that in these seventh and eighth chapters there are two Pauls: Paul the regenerate in one and Paul the unregenerate in the other. This Paul of the eighth is the Paul of the seventh, and the cry here uttered, as we know, is that of a living man. O, how much there is to give us concern about the question of our service of God: not the service of supposed merit, but the loving service of grace. What is the state of it today? Is there much sign of it? Is there much evidence of the crucifixion of our lusts? Are we beset with violent tempers, and indulge them and put them down to “the flesh,” and so airily excuse ourselves—or at least attempt to stifle a godly conscience—with the reflection that it is the unavoidable “flesh” within us, and so end the matter without a groan of sorrow and contrition and a fleeing in spirit to the Throne of Grace for the pardon of our sins? Have we indulged pride of spirit and the carrying of high looks, and thought God would excuse it as part of our “indwelling flesh?”—And are our spirits in the still hardened exercise and indulgence of these things? Have we ceased to be amongst the peacemakers and become seekers of discord? Need we lengthen the list? Truly it is all “the flesh:” and a sad exhibition it all is of it. We know to our sorrow that we are all subject to the ravages of the flesh. But does this assure us we are servants of God? If we are His servants, in a gracious state of service, is not our cry, in the midst of such humbling exhibitions, that of Paul: “O wretched man that I am! Who shall deliver me from the body of this death?” If not, may the Lord move us to examine ourselves as to where we stand; for is it not upon slippery places, from which, if we are indeed His servants, we may slip into we know not what hidings of Himself in darkness and pits of chastisement? “Who shall deliver me?” “I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord” (ver. 25). Our eyes we trust are up unto God, that he would help us and preserve His spirit alive within us.

MARCH 3
“The Law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus”—Rom. 8:2.

We would still return today to the matter of our servant-ship of the Lord Jesus Christ: for it is one with which we are much and frequently concerned, seeing, as we do, that which surrounds us in the sinful natures which harass us and which would appear to seek to bring about—in the hands of the god of this world—our apostasy. How stands our service today—the service, as we observed yesterday, not of supposed merit, but the loving service of grace? Is there much prayer prompted in our hearts today? What is the measure of the spirit of supplication within us of late? For it is “the Christian’s vital breath.” Is there much love of God in our hearts, or are they besmeared amongst the flesh pots of Egypt? Are they so intent upon the things of the “nations round about” that—as was sometimes the case amongst the Israelites—the ark and the place of the presence of God have taken a secondary rank in our estimation—or in fact have our backs turned upon them, whilst our eyes are straining after those foreign things in such a manner as bodes ill for our having much acquaintance for the present—and perhaps for a long time—with the “place of the presence of God?” Is the house of God sweet to us—or—what? At least, are we diligent seekers there at present? How do we find the word of God—or has it, perhaps, not seen much of us of late? As we retire to rest—loaded with another day’s mercies—and awake in the morning, spared monuments of His goodness—upon what or upon whom do our thoughts instinctively first rest?—On Him whom we serve, or of the all-engrossing things of a fleeting world? What of “the Spirit of Life in Christ Jesus” is moving in us today, as an evidence that our spirits serve Him? Surely it is a gracious enquiry! And if we are today seeking the quickenings of His Spirit, though we have at present to mourn coldness, may we not hope that He who created this gracious “law” of His Spirit in our hearts, will yet hear us and “quicken us according to His word?” (Psa. 119:25).
“Does not my heart thy precepts love,
And long to see thy face?
And yet how slow my spirits move
Without enlivening grace!” (GADSBY’S, 402).

MARCH 4
“But every man is tempted when he is drawn away of his own lust, and enticed”—James 1:14.

To be tempted and to commit sin are two different and distinct things. For sin to pester us, and for us to embrace it, are not one and the same thing. Both cause us sadness and apprehension, if we have had created within us that tenderness of conscience towards God, and that yearning after holiness, that desire to avoid sin, and sorrow at even the least suspicion that we have been guilty of it, which accompany the fear of God in active exercise. Both cause us sadness and apprehension, but they are not the same thing. If the Lord has graciously granted us this tenderness of conscience, may it not perhaps at times, when examining ourselves with misgivings producing sorrow of heart, comfort us to notice some of the truth on this subject set before us in this portion of the divine word? The Holy Ghost is here by the apostle James dealing with the subject of temptation and sin, a subject of great importance to one who fears God, and not least in its relation to his comfort in the Lord. One great fact which stands out here is of pointed practical importance to us in our life today and every day. We are perhaps going forth into our respective spheres of life—at home or abroad—this morning, and let us so regard it. It is this: Temptation is not sin. That, in certain circumstances, may afford us legitimate comfort. But it also follows that temptation is the occasion of sin. And this today may well cause us alarm, as would the possibility of meeting serpents as we walk about during the day. The Apostle is not here, dealing with temptation, of itself, but with embraced temptation, which is when a man is “drawn away,” with it, “by his own lust.” This is embraced temptation, and, as he shows, this is sin. But for this to occur he must meet with temptation. What a practical exhortation we may then deduce from this, namely, that we may today and every day seek to avoid meeting with and consequent certain conflict with, temptation, in which we may be preserved, but in which we may fall and commit sin. Let us avoid the street, the circumstance, the conversation, the thoughts, the reading, the everything and anything, in which we know it to lurk. Unless we meet it, we cannot embrace it, which constitutes the sin. It may meet us and the Lord may give us grace “in time of need” (Heb. 4:16) not to embrace it, and this is not sin. But in the words of Solomon, though in a somewhat different sense, let us seek to “avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away” (Prov. 4:15), and if it forces itself into our path, may we especially seek grace to “turn from it and pass away.” To meet it is not sin. To hold intercourse with it is. Be our great endeavour not to meet it.
“Through this wide wilderness I roam,
Far distant from my blissful home;
Lord, let Thy presence be my stay,
And guard me in this dangerous way.”
“Temptations sore obstruct my way,
And ills I cannot flee;
O, give me strength, Lord, as my day;
For good remember me.” (GADSBY’S, 289, 1065).

MARCH 5
“Then when lust hath conceived, it bringeth forth sin: and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth death”—James 1:15.

Our meditation yesterday concerned the truth that temptation of itself is not sin, but that embraced temptation is. But then we noticed that for this to take place, we must not only meet with temptation (within or without) but that we must be “drawn away,” with it, “of our own lust” (ver. 14) and hence we deduced the importance of seeking to avoid meeting with temptation. We know that, granted even our utmost diligence, temptations will arise within and without. But under whatsoever circumstances they present themselves, the Apostle here, in a manner which we may well today stay to contemplate, enforces a still further lesson in practical truth concerning them. And if I am the Lord’s pilgrim, I shall need it on my path this very day. He is dealing with temptation, and shows how it becomes embraced temptation: in other words, how temptation resolves itself into sin. The process—and every one of our hearts will follow it, as having a vital interest in it—is thus: Temptation first presents itself (within or without); secondly, our sinful nature (our “lust”)—what does it do (where temptation becomes sin)? Does it flee from it? No. It draws us to it. Our thoughts settle down to it, and from the temptation sin is thus conceived, then it takes definite form, and is indulged in and becomes a performed action. And when that action is performed, sin is “finished,” that is, completed, and then comes the sad result—death! Death upon our spirits, death to the warmth of the life of God in our hearts, death to our communion with God, death to that casting of the clear and peaceful eye of filial love, of trust, of hope, upwards to that One within the veil, death to the sweetness of the promise, death to comfort. What is it not death to? And what, to a gracious heart, is the practical lesson which comes out of this? This: If, in spite of our sedulous efforts to avoid, as we mentioned yesterday, occasions and circumstances of temptation, should, as it will, present itself to us, let us seek grace not only not to stay before it, but not even to look upon it, for if we do, its serpent’s eyes will almost certainly fasten upon us—we shall be “enticed” by our evil natures to settle down in its presence, the serpent will bite us and “sin, when it is finished, will bring forth death.” Instead of casting our eyes upon it when it presents itself, may the Lord help us to seek to instantly flee from its presence. May we be given strength to cast our eyes quickly from the temptation up to Him, “looking unto Jesus” steadfastly (Heb. 12:2), who knoweth how to succour them that are tempted. What a cruel enemy is the adversary of the Love of God! May the writer—may we all—be preserved in the time of temptation’s trial, especially in those hours of sore trial which sometimes fall upon believers.
“Dangers of every shape and name
Attend the followers of the Lamb,
Who leave the world’s deceitful shore,
And leave it to return no more.” (GADSBY’S, 290).

MARCH 6
“Do not err, my beloved brethren”—James 1:16.

Err concerning what? In view of what is expressed elsewhere in the chapter, this exhortation concerns very especially the walk and conversation of those exhorted, who are, the “beloved brethren;” and does it not apply to the subjects of our two last mediations? Those meditations referred to temptation and to temptation resulting in sin, together with the need of such brethren being ever on the watch-tower against the approach of temptation, and—if it is encountered—against its resulting in sin by our entering into intercourse with it, and its finally becoming “finished” and accomplished sin, the fruit of which “death” in variously manifested forms (ver. 14,15). James is in is verse pointing out the folly of supposing that the wherewithal to successfully do this or any other gracious act, or to walk in any way successfully in the Christian’s path, or to perform any of the Christian’s spiritual duties, lies in sources where it does not rest. He desires to point out that if we go to these sources we shall fail, whether our resort be in our own wisdom or strength, or to any other vain spring. He does not point out what these delusive sources are, but emphatically sets forth what the true one is. He reminds us that both wisdom and every other good and perfect gift “comes down from the Father of lights” (ver. 17,5). Then for this standing upon the watchtower, and this strength, this wisdom and this grace needed when temptation forces itself upon us even there, there is only one safe and sufficient resort, that is: a heavenly supply and Divine help. But we are assured that God will listen to us when we cry and “will not upbraid,” but give liberally; and there is the further assurance that with Him there is “no variableness, neither shadow of turning” (ver. 5,17). The importance of this lies in the fact that He of whom this strong divine assurance is given has made many great promises of help, guidance and preservation to those grace-taught brethren whose eyes are up unto Him. May this assurance and faith mixed with these promises enable us to resort to this strong refuge for that which we need.
“Amidst ten thousand dangers,
Which everywhere abound,
The pilgrims and the strangers
Alone secure are found;
For on their Lord they’re waiting,
They seek Him night and day;
His aid they’re supplicating
In His appointed way.” (GADSBY’S, 292).

MARCH 7
“Of His own will begat He us”—James 1:18.

For what purpose? Was it to thereafter leave us to ourselves? Was it to implant His life in our hearts, including a desire to walk before Him in godly fear, and then, knowing we should have to travel a path beset with temptations, to leave us to our own resources and without help? Was it to bring us into a fervent conflict with sin and Satan, and then to leave us to fight the battle alone? Was it to implant the love of God, of heavenly things and holiness, and then to sit in the heavens” (Psa. 2:4) and leave that love to wither from the earthly poison sedulously cast upon it by Satan: to see that love of His own creation gradually poisoned and finally to see its life totally quenched, that there might be an occasion for boasting and fresh blasphemy in the abodes of darkness? Was it that the most transcendently precious hopes which could be implanted in the human breast should be sweetly awakened and then be crushed out of existence for ever? Was it that the sweetest music known to the soul of man: that the music of salvation, the seed of the strains of heaven, should be awakened and heard within an immortal spirit and then that Satan should be permitted to wrap it in eternal silence? Was it that we should be “begotten” and then keep ourselves alive: be left to fight our way to heaven alone amidst principalities and powers who could slay us at any moment if left alone: that our faith and hopes should have set before them a divine revelation of precious purposes and promises, and that the divine Begetter of both them and ourselves should then retire from the scene and everything prove delusion and death? O, never! The substance and meaning of it all is that He “sitteth in the heavens” (Psa. 2:4) to hear us, to grant us supplies, to care for us, to respond to our sighs, to fight our enemies, to hear our cries for fighting strength, to cherish those transcendent hopes, to quicken and sweeten that heavenly music, to sustain that divine life. “Of His own will begat He us,” and for purposes worthy of Himself. What purposes? He has thereby engaged Himself manifestly to take care of, help and sustain in time, and keep unto eternity the one begotten. What a foundation of hope and confidence! What do we need? Is it strength to fight or avoid temptation? What is it? He “sitteth in the heavens” to hear His own begotten child.

MARCH 8
“There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus”—Rom. 8:1.

Everything earthly is fleeting, unreliable and as shifting sand. To the Christian alone is it given to rest upon something which is stable, and which is not enveloped in a hopeless haze of uncertainty. Yet how clearly is illustrated the perverse condition into which the human mind is fallen by this one fact: that it naturally turns to, persistently hangs upon and prefers these uncertainties and turns with repugnance from the substantial certainties of the Gospel. How much frequently lies in the emphatic statements of the word of God. Here is one notable instance. The greatest subject of concern which the human mind can be occupied with is here at issue; and is the enquirer treated to hesitating suppositions, scientific demonstrations of what seems reasonable, but which may be upset by subsequent discoveries? Is he entertained with endless guesses? Is the seeker led through a labyrinth of philosophy, in which pros and cons of possibilities are discussed, the end of which is that he is invited to form his own opinion as to which of several speculating philosophers is right? His great enquiry is concerning his state for eternity; whether the black list of sins which he knows he has committed is to condemn him on the great day of judgment; he knows by sad daily experience that, do what he will, he continues to add to the list, and he wishes to know if, in the sight of a holy God, there is hope for such a perpetual transgressor; he knows that heaven is a holy place, and that no sin can enter there; he knows that if even he could be permitted to commence life afresh today, he would only commence a fresh list of sins forthwith; he knows he has a sinful nature which is too much for him, and a powerful enemy ever working evil in him, and he wants to know, in this labyrinth of confusion, if there can possibly be any safety for such as he is. Here comes in the trumpet tone of gospel clearness and certainty, with glad tidings from the fulness of Divine Love. It is not: “Perhaps there is hope.” “You may perhaps be acquitted,” and so on with an endless succession of surmises. But the emphatic tones are: THERE IS no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus!” Heavenly decisiveness! Gracious clearness! Glorious gospel! Has the Lord led me by faith into it? Then, perish all earthly sources of confidence and rest: this is eternal certainty and this is eternal rest!
“The gospel bears my spirit up;
A faithful and unchanging God
Lays the foundation of my hope
In oaths and promises and blood.”

MARCH 9
“The eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous, and His ears are open unto their cry”—Psa. 34:15.

These words suggest thoughts very comforting and reassuring to those who fear God, and very searching to those who do not. Shall we hesitate to search ourselves in the matter? We shall not if we fear Him, but if we do not, it is almost certain we shall; and this at the outset may at once show us that we are in such a condition that if we live and die so, with the Lord and His people we shall never spend an eternity. None who fear the Lord shun self-examination. They would not be deceived for all the world can bestow upon them. And this brings us to the thoughts above-mentioned. The eyes of the Lord are upon both the righteous and the wicked, though in a very different manner. Can anyone bring to us an ungodly person who rejoices that the eyes of God are upon him? On the contrary, it is his greatest trouble. Does it bestow any comfort upon him to know that the eye of God is ever beholding him? On the contrary, if he could put his hand before the eye of God, and thus shut out His searching gaze, he would. He would rejoice to put the gaze of God and God Himself out of existence. The eye of God is the terror of his life. What a solemnly clear line of distinction is here brought to light! The feelings of a child of God are exactly the opposite with relation to the eye of God. Instead of being the trouble of his life, it is the comfort and he feels it to be the blessing, of his life, that the eye of God is ever upon him and his path. His own eye is up unto God and he is only too anxious to be sure that the eye of his loving, tender, caring, watching, guarding and helping heavenly Father is upon him: for therein lies the hope of his life. He knows and hopes that the ears of the same dear Father and Lord whose eyes are upon him, are “open unto his cries,” and this is the strengthening hope and the sustaining comfort of his soul. Am I glad that the “eyes of the Lord are upon me?” or is it the dread of my life? Which is it? For is it not manifest that the answer to this question will show me whether the love of the Lord dwells in my heart? Even if, the Lord having begun a saving work in me, I am yet under the searchings of the law, yet my eyes are up unto Him, desiring that He would cast a look of mercy upon me. If I have been brought into the consciousness of His love, His eye resting upon me will be the comfort of my life. To the reprobate, the great desire of life is to flee from the eye of God. Which is my case?

MARCH 10
“And when He putteth forth His own sheep, He goeth before them”—John 10:4.

Are we amongst those within the fold of the heavenly shepherd? If so, what blessing for and connected with us is shadowed forth in these words. He goes before us! Who that has had his or her heart touched by the grace of God and with contrite trust in the great Shepherd does not see the vastness of the blessing involved in this? He goes before us. We are travelling the pilgrim’s path. But there is someone going before us. It is He who gave His life for us. We are travelling through the wilderness. But He goes before us. Beasts of prey are ahead of us. Enemies are ahead waylaying us and waiting for our life. But He goeth before us. They and their leader, the Prince of this world, have laid sinister and perhaps deathly traps for us. But He goeth before us and this they forget or are are ignorant of: whereas the remembrance of it is today the source of our thankfulness, and should be of our joy. We walk where there is no water. But He goes before us and in the wilderness waters “break out, and streams in the desert. And the parched ground becomes a pool, and the thirsty land springs of water” (Isa. 35:6,7). We walk where there is no food; but He goes before us and provides manna in the desert. Rocks are in the way. But He goes before us and rends them. Seas are in the way. But He goes before us and divides them. Quagmires have been made by Satan and morasses by his servants. But He goes before us and makes a firm highway for us through them all. Why does He go before us? Because He has sworn that we shall arrive at the Heavenly City, and we must reach it—therefore, He goeth before us. Yes. It is true that He goes before us to lead us into the pastures where the flock feed. But in every other way too, He goes before us. There is infinite virtue in His going before us: life, sustenance, wisdom, guidance, light, moisture, and blessedness of Spirit are in it. Life breaks forth and works as He goes; food springs up as He goes; wisdom abounds as He goes; guidance is abundant as He goes: light breaks forth out of darkness as He goes; and strength and moisture arise where weakness and dearth existed, in and around the path wherein He goes before. O, the blessedness and the mercy of being in a path with such a forerunner.
“Let the sweet hope that thou art mine,
My life and death attend;
Thy presence through my journey shine,
And crown my journey’s end.” (Gadsby’s, 1010).

MARCH 11
“And the sheep follow Him”—John 10:4.

Where do they follow Him? They follow Him in trial. Perhaps most of all, they cannot leave Him there; for there, if anywhere, they need Him. They follow Him in affliction: for affliction’s trials are such as none know the pain of but those upon whom they fall, and though others may try, He alone can truly make them sweet; and though others may desire to do so, He alone can sustain in them; therefore, they especially follow Him in affliction. They follow Him in darkness; for, bad as the darkness is, or may be, it would be ten thousand times worse if they had no hope that He was with them in it, or they had no hope that they should yet find Him. If they left him, and did not follow Him in darkness, whom would they have to follow? It is to be recollected that they are members of the flock, and cannot turn back and follow the devil and the life of sin and Satan again. They follow Him in doubt. Whom else should they follow then? Do not they want their doubts solving? And who else can solve them? He alone “has the words of eternal life” (John 6:68). Therefore, “to whom shall they go,” and whom else shall they follow? They follow Him when temptation accosts them. For if they do not, they will follow the temptation and this “when it is finished, bringeth forth death” (Jas. 1:16). They follow Him in difficulty, for they are convinced that there is no such helper to be found: and what folly would be theirs not to follow one who possesses Sovereign power and loves them too. But what precious things they follow Him for? Only consider them a little. They follow Him for hope: and for some of these hopes, a world would not tempt them to exchange. If He can give and maintain such hopes, is it surprising that they follow Him? They follow Him for faith. There is no other source of supply: and “True faith’s the life of God” (Gadsby’s, 236). They follow Him for food. They follow Him for strength. They follow Him for comfort. They follow Him for peace. They follow Him for living water. They can no longer live on the stagnant pools of earth-born supplies. They follow Him for light—there being none elsewhere. They follow Him for grace and for life. Who that knows of these things can be surprised that the “sheep follow Him?” Who more than Satan would laugh with unholy mockings if they did not? Why do they follow Him? Because they love Him.
“In darkest shades if He appear,
My dawning is begun;
He is my soul’s sweet morning star,
And He my rising sun.” (GADSBY’S, 1012).

MARCH 12
“And He led them forth”—Psa. 107:7.

The words refer to what the Lord did many days ago. But the great “Shepherd of Israel who leadeth Joseph like a flock” (Psa. 80:1) still leads forth His sheep. What does He lead them into? We may begin today by saying He leads them into the fear of the Lord, which is the beginning of wisdom (Psa. 111:10, Prov. 9:10). This is a great truth. But howsoever great, or howsoever precious it may be, what do its utmost greatness or preciousness concern me, unless this leading has been extended to me? Unless I have been led forth into the fear of the Lord and thus been made wise, though it may be only a babe in wisdom? Do I argue—or rather does Satan induce me to argue—with myself that I cannot lead myself into it and it is therefore not my fault? This is not the question and is Satan’s perverse way of putting the matter. The question is: have I any true desire after this wisdom? Is there anyone who can lead me into it—seeing that supernatural power is necessary? This at any rate we are sure of, that One has said “Him that cometh unto me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:37) and this same One is the very person who “leads forth” His sheep into the fear of the Lord and if I have a true desire to be led into it, I feel encouraged to hope that He has even already begun to lead me into it: for one of the first outwardly manifest effects of such leading is to lead me to see in Him my only hope of salvation, and to lead me to His feet as a contrite suppliant for His mercy: and this I am sure to have already been brought to see and do if I have today a true desire to be “led forth” into His fear. Then I have now set before me one who can “lead me forth” into the fear of the Lord and if these things before stated about myself are a true description of my past experience, let me with some hope go to Him and ask Him for this. For does He not say that He will not cast out any real comers? “And He led them forth.” Perhaps I may in the future by His goodness be enabled to say with reverent rejoicing “And He led me forth,” therefore “Come and hear, all ye that fear God, and I will declare what He hath done for my soul” (Psa. 66:16).
“Knowledge of all terrestrial things
Ne’er to my soul true pleasure brings;
No peace, but in the Son of God;
No joy, but through His pardoning blood.” (GADSBY’S, 771).

MARCH 13
“And He led them forth”—Psa. 107:7.
(SECOND MEDITATION)

Yesterday, meditating on these words, we reflected that what the Great Shepherd of Israel (Psa. 80:1) did in those days, He does now, and referred to His “leading them forth” into the fear of the Lord. But this is a subject we feel loath to leave. Let us endeavour to dwell a little more on the various acts of this great leading forth: in the course of which, may our hearts be led out in gratitude to the Lord. What does He lead them out of? For that is one great department of His leading forth. He leads them out of death. What a leading forth! “Lazarus, come forth!” “ (John 11:43). Behold them, led forth from the insensibility and total incapacity and the all-enveloping bonds of death, and arising into life. And what a life! A life which is encircled with divine power and divine love, and with the glimmerings of eternity and glory.
“Our quickened souls awake and rise
From the long sleep of death;
On heavenly things we fix our eyes,
And praise employs our breath.”
They are led out of the paths of sin—in many cases out of the paths of open profligacy—out of, in other less flagrant cases, habitual following of sin in the heart, into the paths of righteousness: and everyone of them, having been led out of these tombs of death, is now found “sitting clothed and in His right mind” (Luke 8:35). They are led out of a hatred of the God of love into the love of God. What but this divine leading forth could do such a noteworthy thing? They are led out of a barren bible into a bible which is full of conscious blessing, sustaining food, and imperishable hopes, which impart to life that which was never found in it before. They are led out of the horrible pit of total corruption and bottomless quagmires of guilt, and behold, they are led forth clothed in a beautiful garment upon sight of which their Heavenly Father smiles with infinite approval: for it is spotless and is the work of one whose work He always approves. They are led forth out of many other horrible pits. In some of them Satan thought he had securely imprisoned them, and as they are led forth, his curses follow them and their Leader. But this is all he can do—for they are led forth in the secure keeping of the Shepherd. These are some of His leadings forth.
“He in the most distressing hour,
Displays the greatness of His power;
In darkest nights He makes a way,
And turns the gloomy shades to day.” (Gadsby’s, 513).

MARCH 14
“And He led them forth”—Psa. 107:7
(THIRD MEDITATION)

During the past two days we have been meditating upon some of the “leadings forth” of the Good Shepherd (John 10:3-4). Let us consider the matter a little further today; and may we not commence by saying that He alone it is who can lead us forth day by day? May we be led forth by Him this morning and through another day. He leads them forth into His love. May He do this for us today. How good that there is One whose sweet will and ability it is to lead us forth into this love. All men are not led forth into it. “Why was I made to hear His voice?” It might have been that no such leading had or would have been vouchsafed to any of the fallen human race. For the whole plan of Salvation itself is of Sovereign Grace. Yet, through the eternal movings of Divine love and compassion, some have been thus led: and how is it that—as our hope is—we are amongst that number? It is because He “led us forth” into His love. He gently leads us forth into faith in Himself. How precious this is. How it enables us—when He so leads us forth—to grasp the contents of a precious bible, to feed upon the word of life and to drink of the waters whose streams make glad the City of God. (Psa. 46: 4; 36:8). How the soul is sustained if, being so led forth, we are thus enabled to rest for everything with sweet confidence upon the great Rock of our Salvation. (Psa. 89:26; 95:1). He leads them forth out of despair into many paths of hope, in which they have the sunshine of God’s presence, the music of God’s voice, the solace of His peace, the strengthenings of His comfort, the building up of their spirits by the teaching of God: Where they have around and about them the atmosphere of holiness, prayer and love, the present surroundings of grace and the distant views of glory. They are led forth into the hidden mines of truth, and into fields of wealth where many jewels are concealed. When hungry they are led forth to food, when thirsty to water, and when weary to rest. At present they have been led forth from Egypt into the wilderness; but soon they will be led forth from the wilderness into Canaan, where they will adore with new powers Him who “led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a City of habitation.”
“What glad return can I impart
For favours so divine?
O take my all, this worthless heart,
And make it wholly thine.” (GADSBY’S, 95).

MARCH 15
“Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him, upon them that hope in His mercy”—Psa. 33:18.

Not many days ago our meditation was upon those words in the next Psalm (Psa. 34:15) wherein it is declared that the eyes of the Lord are upon the righteous and that His ears are open unto their cry. Such words are very comforting—to those whose property they have consciously become. But the ability to appropriate them within the heart is not always experienced. Are not the words for our present meditation calculated to be helpful to many in such hesitating circumstances of alternate fears and hopes? And is not one of the great purposes of the word of God to help such, and from time to time thus to be the means, as used by the Holy Spirit, to say “to them that are of a fearful heart, be strong?” To “strengthen the weak hands?” To “confirm the feeble knees?” (Isa. 35:3,4). For to such the great and often trying and searching question is: who are “the righteous “ on whom this eye of heavenly love is cast, and to whom the ear of the Lord is thus opened in Sovereign tenderness, betokening them to be His children? Our words for today give us gracious light on the subject. It is “them that fear Him.” Such an one, however, may perhaps say: This helps me a little, but not much; because, though it seems too great a thing for me to consider myself amongst ‘the righteous,’ on whom the eye of the Lord is so signally cast, yet I do sometimes really seem to fear Him a little; and so to this extent these words help me; but not much, for I so often question whether I am not mistaken even in that.” The comfort of these words, however, is that they go on to give a clear definition of who those are that fear Him, of who “the righteous are,” and of who those are to whom His ear of special love is thus open. Who are they? “Upon them that hope in His mercy.” Where are my hopes cast? Are they cast upon His mercy? Yes, they are. Where do my hopes centre? Upon His mercy. What do I plead if I seek divine blessing? Is it not “for His mercy’s sake?” Are these mere words, mere formality, the cry of a parrot, or something said in the hearing of my fellows to make them think me a vastly “religious” person? No. They spring from the bottom of my heart. They are not uttered for men to hear, but for God to hear. They are the expression of the tenderest feelings, the most unctuous out-goings of a heart uttering itself in humility and contrition of spirit before an all-seeing God. My hope is in His mercy. It is the out-going of my soul. Do I hope in His mercy? I cannot deny that I do. If there is one thing the Lord knows, it is that. He knows I have no other hope but that. Surely, then, I may take courage this morning and listen with encouragement to these words of powerful consolation: “Behold, the eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him, upon them that hope in His mercy.”
“’Twas Jesus my friend, when He hung on the tree,
Who opened the channel of mercy for me.
Without Thy sweet mercy, I could not live here;
Sin soon would reduce me to utter despair.
The door of Thy mercy stands open all day,
To the poor and the needy, who knock by the way;
No sinner shall ever be empty sent back,
Who comes seeking mercy for Jesus’s sake.” (GADSBY’S, 11).

MARCH 16
“And His disciples asked Him saying, Master, who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”—John 9:2.

Here is an epitome of our manner of judging concerning the dispensations of God: of the world and also of God’s people, except when influenced by His grace in active operation. Perhaps in the case of someone who reads these words today—being one who fears God—it may be that he has been favoured to see the working of the good hand and wisdom of God on many an occasion, and in unexpected ways. Yet, let some new complication arise, unless a gracious judgment is stirred up with it, he will probably begin to argue with himself just as the disciples did. “The cause of this is so—and so. Arguing from this, my reason tells me the result is likely to be so—and so.” Or: “I see matters to stand in such a position. It is evident to reason that the cause is so and so, and the remedy can only be so and so; yet it is also evident that, in the nature of things my circumstances cannot so work out as to produce such a remedy.” Or in one way or another we argue like a logician with a theoretical problem, or a schoolboy with a sum, and argue from natural cause to natural effect, and back again from natural effect to natural cause, and so convince ourselves that we are in a hopeless complication, in a manner which must be highly pleasing to our great adversary, and which exalts reason to the depressing of faith and the rising of unbelief to the weighing down and affliction of our spirits.
Look at God’s solution, as strikingly set forth here (ver. 3). “Jesus answered, neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents.” “You have mistaken the position of matters altogether, as you frequently do. How, in fact, can you do otherwise, not having the power to dive into the counsels of God? You are, in your customary manner, putting two and two together, with the help of your contracted reason. But your deductions are drawn on wrong principles altogether. God has been at work here and His ways are not as your ways. He knew what He intended to work for and by this man from the beginning. If you had been told beforehand that in the end all your calculations would be upset, the man by this very affliction becomes one of the most blest of men himself, made a means of blessing to many then living and to millions yet unborn, and that the whole, would redound to the great glory of God, faith alone—and not reason—would have enabled you to credit it and to wait for God’s developments with belief in the dark. This man’s blindness was from a cause and for a purpose which never dawned within any of the crevices of reason.” Have we any complication in the dealings of God, which we cannot see any wisdom in, or any outlet to? The blind man knew not, the disciples knew not, but God knew, both the purpose and the end in this case, and does so in ours. May He grant us profitable meditation upon this history.
“God is His own interpreter,
And He will make it plain.”

MARCH 17
“I am alive for evermore”—Rev. 1:18.

“His death! What wondrous love was there:
What deeps of blessing yet unsung!
And though we would their wealth declare,
Thought fails the heart and speech the tongue.
The vastness of his wondrous death
Surpasses mortal speech to tell;
Yet saints, with faint though fervent breath,
Upon its wonders love to dwell.
But not before the cross alone
We would with wondering eyes adore:
He died: but, see! upon his throne
Our Saviour lives for evermore!
How blest his death our hearts well know,
If we have felt sin’s bitter sore:
But from this fount what blessings flow:
Though dead, he lives for evermore!
He died: but I am weak and faint;
I need of strength a boundless store—
Blest life! to list to my complaint
He rose, and lives for evermore!
He died: but I need strength to live,
Who had no strength or life before;
These heavenly breathings who would give,
Did he not live for evermore!
Oh, well he knew that heaven o’erflows
With gifts designed t’enrich the poor;
And to bestow them he arose:
For this he lives for evermore.
If I have felt, by faith divine,
Piercing beyond the starry floor,
That Jesus’ gifts have been made mine:
I know he lives for evermore!
He died: but I with foes must meet:
My conflict lies at hell’s dark door:
And sin would slay me at its feet—
But Jesus lives for evermore!
And he my strength will ever be;
And when I reach the heavenly shore,
Oh, may his loved voice say to me:
‘Come! for I live for evermore!’” —E. L. Jr.
(Lines written on hearing a sermon by my father from the above passage. Originally published in The Christian’s Pathway, July, 1903).

MARCH 18
“My times are in thy hand”—Psa. 31:15.

It would often appear to carnal sense and judgment that our times are in the hand of Satan, or some earthly enemy, or of a number of enemies combined. But in the light of these words, it is evident that this is not the case. Such an estimate of the matter is evidently wrong. Our times are not—not even at that “time”—in their hands. They may laugh and say “Ah, ah, so would we have it” (Psa. 35:25—margin), but “He that sitteth in the heavens shall have them in derision” (Psa. 2:4). The whole thing is a mistake. Their estimate of the position of matters is wrong; so is our own. Our times—even that “time”—are not in their hands, but God’s. A general directing a great army in battle is often miles away, and quite invisible from the devoted private soldier in that small detachment of one of the regiments in yonder valley who is helping to perform some movement which his regiment has been sent there to carry out. He does not know what this movement is for. But he knows it is designed to fit in with the various other operations which are proceeding all over the field of battle. It is the directing general with a powerful telescope miles away who knows the meaning and design of the operations, the marchings and counter-marchings of each detachment. Humanly speaking, their times are in the general’s hand. Is my present “time” one of dark dispensation? But it is not dark where the Great Captain of my Salvation sits. It is light there; and He knows the meaning of it all. The plan of the battle-field is directed by Him. I am not to forget that I am a soldier, as well as a citizen, called on to “fight the good fight of faith” (1 Tim. 6:12), and I am not to look at the ground to bemoan its roughness, but to fight “looking unto Him,” “the author and finisher of my faith.” (Heb. 12:2). Certainly I shall desire so to do if I am a wise soldier. For what help can I get from the midst of the battle? My help is from Him. I should look to “the hills from whence cometh my help.” “My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth,” and He that keepeth the army of Israel in which I am fighting “shall neither slumber nor sleep.” “The Lord is our keeper and our shade upon our right hand” (Psa. 121:1-5) “The Lord of Hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge” (Psa. 46:11). He directs the battle, and my times are in His hand. O Lord, preserve thou my going out and my coming in from this time forth, and even for evermore. (Psa. 121:8).
“Times of trial and of grief;
Times of triumph and relief;
Times the tempter’s power to prove;
Times to taste the Saviour’s love;
All must come, and last, and end,
As shall please my heavenly Friend.” (GADSBY’S, 64).

MARCH 19
“My times are in thy hand”—Psa. 31:15.
(SECOND MEDITATION)

Is it a time of Sunshine? I am thankful that it is in His hand, for He can keep me from being led astray by it; from being “exalted above measure” (2 Cor. 12:7); from over-confidence and consequent careless walking, and therefore from the pitfalls which Satan lays for us in such times. Does not the poet say:
“For more the treacherous calm I dread,
Than tempests bursting o’er my head?”
Yet, as it is in His hand, He can lengthen out this time of Sunshine, can even increase its gracious light and warmth, and whilst keeping me sweetly low at His feet, cause it to be a grace-giving period producing happy fruits in my heart and experience. And this no one else could do. For without Him no such fruits could arise from this season of Sunshine; and this period of prosperity would lead me astray and perhaps prove the very opportunity for Satan to bring about my downfall. How favoured I am that (1st) He so undeservedly gives me this comforting time of Sunshine, and (2nd) that it is in His hands, and no others. Is it a time of faith? How I fear lest it should be invaded by temptation and be dimmed or disappear. I know what it was to try to believe and not to be able. How much solemn reason I have to prize above rubies this present season of heaven-born faith. But what would be my sad condition if it were stolen from me? And Satan is declared to be both a thief and a liar. What if, at his instigation, unbelief should rush in and drown my precious—my weak, my feeble—yet precious faith? But even this time of faith is in His hand. Then He can sustain it and I know where to go to as an earnest suppliant for its strengthening and maintenance. In any other hands certain destruction would be its fate. But this time of faith is in His hands. For this I feel very thankful, and will again commit it into His hands. What “time”—except when blinded by carnal foolishness—would I desire, indeed, to take out of His hands, and into my own, or to place in any one else’s? Is it a time of enquiry concerning Him and His Salvation? It is declared that He ever liveth to make intercession for all who come unto God by Him, and here am I a humble suppliant at His feet praying God for His sake to show me a token for good. And my times are in this hand: even this one. Therefore, much is the comfort of hope, and encouragement which this gives me. Is it a time of weakness or of strength? Of darkness or of light? The foundation of my hope in the matter is that it is not in the hand of Satan—but in the hand of Jesus: of Him that “loved me and gave Himself for me” (Gal. 2:20).
“He that formed me in the womb,
He shall guide me to the tomb;
All my times shall ever be
Ordered by His wise decree.” (GADSBY’S, 64).

MARCH 20
“…In thy hand”—Psa. 31:15.

Whose hand was this? The question is important. Here was someone whose destinies, and the ordering and controlling of whose “times,” were in the hands, not of himself, but of another. And his concerns, “times,” and circumstances, were in many respects far more varied, important, and complicated, than are those, probably, of any reader of these lines. The question as to whose hand this was in which they were is important. It was so to him and is so to us, seeing that ours are in the same hand. The person writing was David, and the hand was the hand of the Lord. The gracious considerations pointedly set before us are that—as will be seen from the rest of the psalm—the Psalmist was surrounded by a vast number of persons of different kinds—friends and enemies: especially does he refer here to the latter. These were all bent upon evil towards him. He was beset by evil men, by men probably of much influence, of many resources, of much power, with many others ready to do their bidding—men, probably, of much cleverness, cunning and also of that unscrupulousness, cruelty and ferocity, so largely characteristic of Orientals—and all led on by the volition of Satan’s influence working within their hearts. He had these foes without—and his other enemies within (and how great the latter were we know). But the further consideration set before us is that whilst he was surrounded by all these enemies, calamitous influences, evil workings and evil designs of evil men: whilst he was amongst their hands, he was not in their hands. He was in the hand of the Lord. A further vital consideration is that whilst they thought he was in their hands, they themselves were also in the hand of the Lord: and not only they, but Satan too, their leader, was himself in the hand of the Lord. This was the basis of his confidence—and from this basis arose this great expression of the triumph of his faith: ‘‘My times are in thy hand!” He had previously said “in his haste:” “ I am cut off from before thine eyes” (ver. 22). That was when faith fell. But now faith arose, and this was the basis of its gracious triumph. May it be granted to be of ours. For he concludes with the further inspired encouragement: “Be of good courage, and He shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord” (ver. 24).
“When a sense of sin and thrall
Forced me to the sinner’s Friend,
He engaged to manage all,
By the way, and to the end.
‘Cast,’ He said, on me thy care;
’Tis enough that I am nigh;
I will all thy burdens bear;
I will all thy needs supply.” (GADSBY’S, 277).

MARCH 21
“The voice of the Lord is upon the waters”—Psa. 29:3.

The voice of the Lord is doubtless upon the waters of the earth. These consist of many seas, rivers, and other expanses of water. To assist in placing before our minds a general view of these many expanses we may review the various “waters” through and upon which a person must travel, on a voyage from, say, London to India or New Zealand. He must travel in the North Sea, the Straits of Dover, the English Channel, the Atlantic Ocean, the Bay of Biscay, the Straits of Gibraltar, the Mediterranean Sea, the Suez Canal, the Red Sea, the Straits of Babel Mundab, the Arabian Sea, the Indian Ocean, the Bay of Bengal perhaps, the Pacific Ocean, the River Thames, the River Hooghly perhaps. These would be the varied waters through which his voyage would lie. But few of us are personally called upon to travel in these. The words under consideration, however, figuratively bring before our minds other seas—other waters—far more varied and dangerous even than these, and of concern to everyone of us, seeing that they are those through which we must all pass, viz: the waters of the voyage of life. On these, many voices are heard; and these many voices are of power. It is of consequence what these voices are. These waters, these seas, these rivers, are many. Some are great, some small; some are shallow, some deep; some are calm and peaceful, some stormy and tempestuous; some cold, some warm; some are dark, and some sun-shiny and light. Through all these waters we have to travel, and the thought is solemnizing. But the comfort of the child of God is that upon all of them and upon each one of them, the voice of the Lord is heard. The voice of his Almighty companion, his dear Redeemer, is heard: that voice (differently manifested) which once said to the stormy sea: “Peace: be still!” and “there was a great calm.” The voice which after the great wind, the earthquake and the fire, spake to Elijah (1 Kings 19:11,12,13). In no waters—in no sea—can he ever be where His God is not: where the voice of His Lord cannot penetrate: either in kingly restraint or even destruction of his enemies, or of presence, help or blessing to him. In the words of the Psalmist, that which is true of His hand, is true of His voice: “If I take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea; even there shall thy hand lead me, and thy right hand shall hold me.” (Psa. 139:9,10): for “the voice of the Lord is upon the waters.”
“He plants His footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.”
Therefore (says the poet)
“Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.” (GADSBY’S 320).

MARCH 22
“The voice of God is upon the waters”—Psa. 29:3.
(SECOND MEDITATION)

In our meditation of yesterday we remarked that in all the many “waters” of the voyage of life, the comfort of the child of God is that there is not one of these waters, seas or rivers, where his God is not; where the voice of the Lord cannot penetrate. What are these seas and other waters of the voyage of life—some of which are of great expanse and some smaller? There is a solemn sea: the sea of darkness and death: of spiritual darkness and death—the sea of unregeneracy. A vast sea. It is full of vessels—all travelling to the shores of eternity. The voices heard upon it are awful—the darkness all-enveloping; the blasphemy great. The voices of hate, of anger and violence; of lust, of all kinds of evil, and of blasphemy; of infidelity, of deception, of cunning; of incredulity concerning, and of mockery of God and heavenly things, are heard as an all-enveloping pestilence of sound. Above all, are heard the powerful voices of Satan and of his evil angels. All the barques are rushing on to eternal destruction. But above all, behold a Kingly voice is heard. It is the voice of God. And now look at that careless sinner in yonder bark; at that blind sinner in another; at that incredulous sinner far away from both in another; at that grossly deceived and cruelly deluded one in another; look far away at that blaspheming one in another. They hear the voice of God—their bark is turned—their eyes are turned to yonder lighthouse of Salvation and their bark headed for it. Satan sees it, and his voice, and those of his ministers are heard in opposition. But nothing can withstand the voice of THE KING: and the sinner is led by it and his bark—steered by an invisible Pilot—is seen turned persistently to the eternal light. For the voice of the Lord is upon the waters. It is a powerful voice—a voice of Salvation. Look at another hardened and blaspheming sinner in yonder bark. A tempest arises before him. Lightning flashes. Thunders shake the darkness and he cries in terror. In the midst a voice of thunder is heard. It is the voice of God. It is the voice of God speaking in the tones of Sinai. His bark is turned. He voyages on thus for a long time. After many days and nights, again a voice is heard and “Hark! the voice of Love and Mercy, sounds aloud from Calvary!” It is again the voice of the Lord upon the waters, and speaks comfort and pardon to his soul. What a mercy to us that the voice of the Lord was upon these waters! Else—where should we have been? We are now, perhaps, by His mercy in another sea—either the waters of Hope or the sea of Gospel Rest. And is not the voice of the Lord even there “upon the waters?” How sweet at times are the things which it here speaks. Other waters we know there are. But these two are waters of comfort, and here the voice of the Lord is with us upon the waters, and we thankfully sing, slightly altering the sweet words:
“Weak in myself in Him I’m strong;
His spirit’s voice I hear,
The way I take cannot be wrong.
If Jesus be but there.
Confirmed by one soft secret word.
I seek no farther light;
But go, depending on my Lord,
By faith, and not by sight.” (GADSBY’S, 812).

MARCH 23
“The voice of the Lord is upon the waters”—Psa. 29: 3.
(THIRD MEDITATION)

The voice of the Lord is upon the waters of affliction. This is a great ocean through which the Lord’s people, as well as the world, have frequently to pass. But the difference between the travel of the former and of the latter upon it is that the latter travel it alone and the former are accompanied by the voice of the Lord. This it is which at times turns the heavy waters into a place of sweet communion—the heavy roll of the deep sea into a cradle of divine light: the sharp shock of its buffetings into a season of comfort which passes the comprehension of surrounding voyagers. Many barques have been wrecked upon this ocean, but of no vessel of mercy has this ever been known. For the voice of the Lord is there, speaking to such effect, or in such tones—whether of preservation or sustenance—as occasion needs. If the waters are in danger of overflowing the distressed bark, the voice of the Lord is heard upon the waters, and they are bidden to conform to the needs of a vessel of mercy, whilst as the kingly voice speaks to them in heavenly command, the Lord’s voice is also heard—for the assurance of the afflicted traveller—saying: “When thou passest through the waters, I will be with thee: and through the rivers they shall not overflow thee” (Isa. 43:2). The travellers do not all pass over the same portions of this Ocean. It is a wide one. Some are only called to travel the shallow waters close to land; some farther away in deeper water; and some out of sight of land, in mid-ocean, amid the heavy roll of deep affliction. But the voice of the Lord penetrates to the whole of this Ocean. The mercy of them all is that, though they do not all travel in every part of the Ocean, the voice of the Lord does: that in whatsoever part of it any of them are travelling, and in every part, “the voice of the Lord is upon the waters:” and when, hearing it, they have even been known to sing:
“Since all that I meet shall work for my good,
The bitter is sweet, the medicine is food;
Tho’ painful at present, ’twill cease before long,
And then O how pleasant the conqueror’s song!”
(GADSBY’S, 232).

MARCH 24
“The voice of the Lord is upon the waters”—Psa. 29:3.
(FOURTH MEDITATION)

The voice of the Lord is heard upon the waters of trial—which form a sea adjoining the ocean of affliction, referred to in our yesterday’s meditation. There are a great many of the Lord’s vessels upon the waters of this sea, and they are frequently seen together. The reason of their seeking each other is that the travellers find mutual help and encouragement in recounting their experiences of these difficult waters—of the goodness of the Lord—and of how, and in what circumstances, they have heard His voice. Some are granted stronger faith than others. Some can smile at the storm. Others; faint, at times, at even its distant rumblings. Some are deeply experienced travellers in this sea, these waters of trial, whilst others, having travelled more in other waters—where divine love has been much drawn forth—but less in these, are dismayed in difficulties where the already well-tried faith of the others gives a firmness of heart which even at times helps to encourage the trembling or fearful ones. Amongst them all there is much conversation concerning the goodness of the Lord, His ways of deliverance, and a frequent mutual rejoicing in one thing, in which they generally agree: that His strength and wisdom surpass those of any possible enemy. Sometimes the complication of one is such that even the most experienced travellers can only go so far as to say: “nevertheless, trust in the Lord.” And it is often at, or soon after, such times that “the voice of the Lord is heard upon the waters,” either commanding the complication to depart, or speaking strength, succour, comfort, faith or hope to the voyager. Sometimes one traveller has a solitary complication or trial which he or she cannot tell or explain to any of the others. But that one often hears the voice of the Lord upon the waters in sweet and sustaining tones: for He well understands where none others do, and His voice is often specially given to such a traveller. The great thing which sustains the hearts of all these voyagers is faith, and there is a great and subtle enemy who constantly goes about amongst them seeking to steal it from them. He succeeds a good deal and would accomplish the ruin of all but for one gracious cause: the voice of the Lord is upon the waters, and whenever it is heard he is compelled to flee and leave his work unfinished which is the one great instrumental cause why they will all one day get safe to land. (Acts 27:44). And amongst these travellers, too—to the astonishment of many voyagers of other nations—the voice of singing is often heard, and this is their frequent song:
“His love in times past forbids me to think
He’ll leave me at last in trouble to sink;
Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review
Confirms His good pleasure to help me quite through.”
(GADSBY’S, 232).

MARCH 25
“The voice of the Lord is upon the waters”—Psa. 29:3.
(FIFTH MEDITATION)

There is a sea which many have to travel upon—and some in the deepest of its waters—though others know less of its billows: the sea of the enmity of the world and the designs of foes. It is very good to those upon this sea that the voice of the Lord is here also upon the waters. Otherwise, they would be totally crushed by the King’s enemies. (Psa. 45:5). In some cases that voice is a voice of thunder to the Christian’s foes—a thunder of destruction to their designs, and sometimes a voice of death to those enemies themselves. How solemn is the position of anyone who is seeking to injure or destroy one of these vessels of mercy. Let them fear lest the voice of the Lord be heard upon the waters. Do they boast that they are of great power? It needs but that voice to be heard upon the waters and their power will sink a struggling wreck in the waves. Do they boast that their designs are built with great worldly wisdom and interwoven in a structure of cunning skill? Let but the voice of the Lord be heard upon the waters, and the design—be it cruel, cunning, or masterly—will fall and sink, and another design of unerring wisdom will arise to sight—the design of the Lord: whilst the, perhaps, trembling voyager is led to sing songs of praise. Listen to the sound of the great waters where are gathered those hosts of the Philistines and the heavy step and great voice of the mighty Goliath are heard. The vast waters of enmity roar, the waves of confident, wicked design are troubled. But, behold, “the voice of the Lord is upon the waters.” It is a voice of death—and both design and executor sink to destruction in the deep. Except for this divine protection, the helpless traveller would have no chance on his voyage; but it is his sovereign defense that upon these danger-beset, these treacherous, and often tempestuous waters, the voice of the Lord is heard; and as the Psalmist in this and the next verse says: “The voice of the Lord is powerful;” “the voice of the Lord is full of majesty.” Yea, even, when needful for the poor mariner’s protection, “The God of Glory thundereth” (ver. 3, 4).
“He in the thickest darkness dwells;
Performs His works, the cause conceals;
But though His methods are unknown,
Judgment and truth support His throne.” (GADSBY’S, 6).

MARCH 26
“Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth: I have put my spirit upon him”—Isa. 42:1.

Although spoken of the Lord Himself, do not these words express something which is true concerning every one of His redeemed sheep? How sweet it is to be enabled by faith to look upon the position in which a child of God stands before Him. He stands before the Lord God Almighty, maker and sustainer of heaven and earth, in exactly the position expressed in these words. “Behold my servant whom I uphold.” How great the privilege to stand in such a position. When we remember how truly our often felt experience is that expressed in the poet’s words:
“For who can hold me up but Thou?”
is it not good to have the responding assurance in our hearts that the only possible upholder for a poor sinner has graciously revealed and declared Himself not as our foe, but as our promised upholder? Others there might be ready to promise to uphold us; but thankful as we might be for their kind feelings, we should have to confess to ourselves that they were unable to carry out such an impossible undertaking. Others there might be who would—and perhaps in learned language—point out to us various means within our own human power, by which we could uphold ourselves, if we would only follow their plan and diligently use the methods they prescribed. Others there are who—in effect if not in words—will assure us of upholding if we will do part and ask God to do the rest. Some there are indeed, who will declare to us that, if we will only follow on diligently to a perfection of which (as they declare) all men are capable, we can become proof against the very cause of fall—sin. What? Are any of these (perhaps kind-hearted and friendly) saviours of use to us? When we consider that in and of ourselves, we are merely the sport of a mighty Devil and of all the principalities and powers (Eph. 6:12) who obey him, working through enemies without, and through a nature within us wholly given over to his service—what vestige of hope of being upheld has a poor helpless unit of the earth? As well might a moth challenge a hurricane on the Atlantic Sea. The very nature of things would proclaim the folly of its hope and confidence. Only a power greater than the hurricane could keep it—the protection of an ocean going vessel. And suppose part of our upholding to be God’s—what of ourselves for the rest in such a position? There is manifestly only one possible upholder. And the mercy is that that only possible one has not deserted us in our life and death position of need, but has come forward and in terms of gracious assurance in many places in effect said to all those whose hope is cast upon Him: “Behold my servant, whom I uphold.” How great is the mercy. How needful that we should be daily led to seek His upholding.
“When most we need His helping hand,
This Friend is always near;
With heaven and earth at His command,
He waits to answer prayer.” (GADSBY’S, 132).

MARCH 27
Behold my servant, whom I uphold; mine elect, in whom my soul delighteth. I have set my spirit upon him”—Isa. 42:1.
(SECOND MEDITATION)

We yesterday observed that although spoken of the Lord Himself, these words express something which is true concerning each of His redeemed followers, and reflected upon the favoured position in which they stand, going on to remark upon the gracious truth that He is the promised upholder of each of His dependent sheep. And are not all these things in a peculiar manner emphasized by His wonderful fundamental declaration made substantially in so many places to each: “mine elect in whom my soul delighteth?” This heart-comforting truth may be here stated for our renewed assurance, without going into the great subject of the Son’s eternal choice as our glorious Redeemer. Can such a thing be true? Is it not too much to be true, that the vile and utterly unworthy unit of fallen mankind which the believer feels himself to be should be not only not destroyed beneath heaven’s just wrath, and not only be an object of favour, but actually be lifted to this supreme pinnacle of blessing: to become an object in whom the soul of Jehovah delighteth! In whom God delighteth? On whom the infinite heart of love—the centre and source of love—on whom the boundless repository of unmeasured and unmeasurable affection and tenderness rests for its delight? This is the amazing, yet glorious, truth set before our wondering eyes in God’s revelation of Himself, and with which the word of God, up and down its divine pages, bristles as clearly as the firmament does with stars. Too much for reason, but not too much for a sweet God-bestowed faith: what is there which this heavenly truth does not assure us of? What is there too great for it to assure us of? Remembering it, what is there too much for us to come to the throne of grace for? What blessing is there in the word of God too good to be true? What sweet promise is too sweet to be true? Which one too sweet for us to plead? What diligence in seeking in His word for pearls of price—and in the means of grace for blessing—too great? What is there not in this truth to recompense us for lack of this world’s goods, comforts, ease or prosperity? What unfitness, what unworthiness, in ourselves is too great for it? Does such an one hope in His mercy? His soul delighteth in him! May he not then approach Him with the sweet light of hope in his eyes? Surely—surely such an one may! A divine spirit will be needful for him, but He has also “set His spirit upon him,” and that divine and freshly quickened impartation (Psa. 119:25) will be his gracious enablement. Upheld through time, the delight of His soul in time and eternity.
“More happy, but not more secure,
Are the glorified spirits in heaven.”

MARCH 28
“I have put my spirit upon him”—Isa. 42:1.

Lifting them reverently out of their original connection, these words, spoken of our Lord, express—like the previous words of the verse—an abstract truth applying to all whose hope is in the Lord. It is a truth which, following, especially, our meditations of the previous two days, may fittingly occupy our attention. All such persons are His servants. Of them He is the promised upholder. In them His soul delighteth (ver. 1). We yesterday rehearsed some of the blessedness of the position in which such stand: especially what blessing cannot fail to be theirs if they are such as His soul delighteth in. And if His soul delights in one of such, will He not manifest concerning him some evidence of the fact even now? Is it surprising that there are found redeemed sinners travelling this earth in whom has been performed something which stamps them as beings in whom He delights? Of what nature are such things? May the poor sinner who writes this and some other poor sinner—perhaps lying low in the dust of well-nigh hopeless self-abasement on account of past and still indwelling sin—be encouraged of the Lord in considering the matter. Do not sanctified reason and the whole analogy of the Word tell us that such things will be things of that kind in which the Lord is known to delight? In the soul in which He delights, may we not expect Him to implant those things in which He is known to delight? Such souls are to be His company for ever—the objects of His delight, and His society for ever. Can two walk together, and be an object of mutual delight, unless they be agreed? Can such be His delight and eternal company if possessed of a nature, affections and inclinations opposed to His own? Is it not to be expected that He will (they being His delight) implant in them a nature like His own, and with such features as He declares are lovable in His sight? Surely it is. Then what is He like? Is He not a God loving holiness and hating sin? Has such an one not found that these two principles have been newly implanted within his spirit—opposing the old fallen deliberate love of sin? Why was that? Does not the question answer itself? The nature of God is not to be confounded with His attributes, such as omnipotence, or omniscience, which He has not imparted to his creatures. But His spirit and nature are to be expected and searched for in that one in whom His soul delighteth. Does not such an one find some of these things in his heart—rising above his old fallen nature? An examination of this matter may surely encourage such to hope that he is after all one “in whom His soul delighteth”—and therefore standing in the truly favoured position of such. Let him go over in his mind some of the things in which it is known the Lord delights and see if he finds anything of the same in his heart. To commence with: “To this man will I look, even to him that is poor, and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at my word” (Isa. 66:2). What of that? and of the similar divine declarations in Isa. 57:15: Psa. 34:18; and Psa. 51:17? Are we of such? Have there been imparted to us any other things in which He delights? May our inward enquiries on the subject be sanctified to our comfort.
“The soul that with sincere desires
Seeks after Jesus’ love,
That soul the Holy Ghost inspires
With breathings from above.” (GADSBY’S, 30).

MARCH 29
“He restoreth my soul”—Psa. 23:3.

An army on the march, and in battle, depends upon two things—its basis of supplies and its line of communication. If either of these fail, the army is doomed. Food, and the means of fighting the enemy, must be brought to the army. They are not supplied ready to hand for them in the enemy’s country. It is a hostile country and one of the enemy’s special objects is to make it bare of all supplies to them. How true this is of the Christian. He is in a hostile country: a barren country. His enemies: his own heart and carnal nature, inclinations and thoughts, reinforced by enemies without, and the influences of carnal things upon him, are all so many enemies in the country drying up and robbing him of all spiritual supplies. Where would the army (in the case referred to) be if it depended upon itself for supplies? Where would the Christian be if he had to depend upon himself for spiritual supplies? Experience teaches him that he is bound to depend upon his base (or fountain) of supplies and his line of communication with that base. The writer had this borne upon him before sitting down to write these lines and there may be some reader in a similar position. His feelings were dead, cold, carnally confused, and lacking in that without which divine things become a blank—life. These words presented a truth which yields comfort. For there is set before us in them a basis of supply and a line of communication which are not dead, if our hearts seem to be. “He restoreth my soul.” There is, then, a source of restoration—and one which all our enemies can never destroy. How happy and secure, therefore, is the life of the poor Christian soldier, though he may not be in sensible enjoyment of his security today, perhaps. Who is this indestructible basis of supplies—and of restoration? Who the indestructible line of communication? The Lord Jesus Christ and the Holy Spirit. “Your life is hid with Christ in God” (Col. 3:3), and the security of the communication is thus lovingly set forth for the poor apparently withering seeker’s encouragement: “How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask Him” (Luke 11:13)?
“My soul lies cleaving to the dust;
Lord, give me life divine;
From vain desires and every lust,
Turn off these eyes of mine.”

MARCH 30
“He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake”—Psa. 23:3.

It is not in nature to walk in the paths of righteousness. The paths of unrighteousness are congenial to it. It needs no teaching. Without instruction we walk in them. Put us in the world, the paths of righteousness and of unrighteousness before us, and—without the assistance of any human tutorship—our steps will make at once for the latter. Neither will they vary. Their course will be regular and reliable—but always in the paths of unrighteousness. There must be some well defined reason for this: especially when such paths are known to lead to misery and darkness. The reason is that there are some governing influences operating which no human power is able to defeat, change, or turn from their course. These influences draw us as surely as a current of air will draw dust after it; and not only is there this positive influence; there is also another reason: the absence of any power to walk in the paths of light. There is power to walk in darkness, and there are irresistible influences constantly awakening and urging on these powers. But notwithstanding all this, here is a mortal walking in the paths of righteousness. As there was a reason for the former, so there must be for this. The reason manifestly is, that a new power to walk in light must have been implanted and that outside influence also is at work supplying, awakening and urging on this new power to walk in the paths of righteousness. This power as we know is the life of God implanted, and the enabling influence at work from time to time supplying and awakening it into action and to walking in the paths of light is the spirit of the Lord. Here, therefore, is a new man in Christ Jesus (Eph. 4:24; Col. 3:10; 2 Cor. 5:17; Gal. 6:15), and he states why he is enabled thus to walk—it is “for His name’s sake.” The Psalmist’s sweet doctrine is that the Lord has covenanted to enable all such to walk—and “for His name’s sake” will hear the breathings of His sheep for this enablement. Have we been brought to love His paths? Do we feel our inability and therefore need of help? Here is given the potent and all-prevailing key-note to our cry. It is: “for His name’s sake.” Thus may we be enabled to plead today, tomorrow and in all times of felt need: that for His name’s sake, He who has brought our feet into His paths, will still give us strength to walk in them. How good to be taught our source of strength and our true and availing plea.
“Then let His name for ever be
To us supremely dear;
Our only, all-prevailing plea,
For all our hope is there.
This is the name the Father loves
To hear His children plead;
And all such pleading He approves,
And blesses them indeed.” (GADSBY’S, 383).

MARCH 31
“I will instruct thee in the way which thou shalt go”—Psa. 32:8.

Too long has Satan taught my heart,
Too long his baleful voice,
Which moved me in sin’s path to start,
Bade me in sin rejoice.
Have I now really come to Thee,
Drawn by Thy cords divine?—
And can this wonder be for me:
Thine heavenly wisdom mine?
Thy promise is to choose my way,
And shape my progress there;
What is the path? I seek to pray:
Is it the path of prayer?
Long was I led by Satan’s chains
In dark despair to grope:
Do I now hear hope’s heavenly strains?—
Is it the path of hope?
’Midst sins and terrors long I dwelt,
Nor even hoped release;
For hell’s approaching fires I felt—
Is it the path of peace?
Hast Thou in mercy looked on me,
And blest me with thy sight?
That I might see eternally—
Is it the path of light?
Those—only those!—who love Thee here
Will reign with Thee above;
That I ne’er loved Thee is my fear—
Is it the path of love?
It is the path of Providence:
It is the path of Grace;
The path of power and impotence:
The pathway to Thy face.
Full oft my heart demands to know
To what my footsteps tend:
Oh, teach me in that way to go
Which in Thyself shall end!
—E. L. Jr.

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