nChrist
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« Reply #1 on: February 23, 2010, 02:44:50 PM » |
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Not every heart's nest in this world - is lined with down. There are homes that are not gentle. There are lives with fine feelings and sensibilities, which move as amid briars and thorns and are hurt every day! There are many whose relations with others are not of the kind to give comfort. There are children who do not know what the refinements of gentle home-love are. There are hearts that are hurt by ingratitude, by coldness, by rudeness, by incessant unkindness, by unfaithfulness, by betrayal, by wrong and injustice. But the gentleness of God is over all who will nestle beneath it - and it never fails, never lacks in tenderness.
What a warm place this is - to which to flee in time of sorrow! Some of us do not yet understand this. We cannot see the stars - until the sun goes down and night comes. We cannot know the marvelous tenderness of God, while yet we are surrounded and overshadowed and blessed by rich and unbroken human tenderness. There are many things about the love of God - which we cannot learn until we lose earth's good things.
Again and again people say in their times of bereavement and sore trial: "I cannot understand the experience I am having. I felt as the sorrow approached, that I could not possibly endure it, that my heart would break. But when it came, there seemed to be something enfolding me, so that I was not crushed - but could even sing in my grief and loss." A friend wrote once, when he was watching beside his brother's deathbed, that he was learning not so much the meaning of sorrow - as he was learning the meaning of God's comfort. Some of us understand this from our own experience. As we entered the valley of grief, and the darkness deepened about us - we felt a Presence we could not see; the darkness seemed to be struck through with a soft, heavenly light. There was something we could not describe, which strangely comforted us, keeping us calm and quiet.
We call sorrow a shadow, and we talk about it falling upon us, and deepening, until sometimes all the light of earth is obscured. But it is the shadow of God's wings. What seems darkness - is only the darkening of earth's dim lights, that heaven's light may shine about us. Sorrow, for a Christian, is not God's withdrawal; it is His nearer coming. We shall never know how warm and soft a place there is beneath the wings of love - until we creep there out of earth's nights and blasts of storm.
In this world we nestle only, as it were, under the outer edge of this broad shadow. We do not, therefore, experience the fullness, the best, the blessedness which lies up nearer the divine heart. Then, what we call dying is, for a Christian - only going in deeper beneath these wings. God's grace is very sweet, even on the earth - but heaven is far better.
There is a great comfort for us in this lesson, when we stand by the bedside of our believing friends and watch them pass into the shadow which we call death. It is painful for us to have them go out of our arms - into the strange mystery. Yet they only nestled up closer up under God's wings! That is the true meaning of dying.
Notice what this Psalm tells us is under these wings of God. There are four things.
Satisfaction is the first. "They shall be abundantly satisfied!"
Joy is the second. "You give them drink from your river of delights."
Life, larger, fuller life, is the third. "With you is the fountain of life."
Light is the fourth. "In your light - we shall see light."
These four great blessings are found beneath the wings of God - satisfaction, joy, life, light.
When we are dwelling beneath the wings of God, and under these wings have such marvelous blessings - why should we ever be afraid? Why should we dread to see our Christian friends pass out of this life! To depart and be with Christ - is very far better!
God's wings are also wings of refuge. "How priceless is your unfailing love! Both high and low among men find refuge in the shadow of your wings!" When the storm comes, the mother-bird gathers her young beneath her wings and shelters them, bearing herself the pelting of the hail - but keeping them safe and warm. So Christ gathers His people beneath the wings of His love - when the tempest breaks upon them.
"What tempest? From what do we need a refuge?" Does anyone ask the question! Have you never felt the need of a refuge for your own life? Have you never felt yourself driven by fears, by dangers, by alarms, by the wild tempests of sorrow or of doubt - needing some refuge, some secure place to hide, where you would be safe from the angry strifes?
In all such times and experiences, there is a refuge beneath the wings of God! There is a refuge there, because it is mercy's place. Under the wings of the cherubim, was the mercy seat. We have sinned. We need atonement. Those who flee beneath God's wings, beneath the outstretched arms of the cross - have nothing to fear from their sins. They are forgiven. "There is now no condemnation."
But this is not the only sense in which the wings of God give a refuge to men. You know the restful feeling that steals over one when after a day out in the world, amid its strifes, cares, and competitions, its babble of tongues, its insincerities, its disappointments; he enters his own sweet and happy home and shuts his door. Home is a refuge to his heart. He finds love there, sincerity, no enmity, no competition, no sharp dealing. God is home to the human soul that trusts in Him, "Lord, you have been our dwelling-place from all generations!"
There is a sense in which a noble, true, and faithful human life - is a refuge to many others. But the best human refuges are only frail and temporary. You turn some day for shelter - and find your friend dead. Then when the shock comes, the temptation, the sorrow, the fear, the danger - -and you want to fly to him, he is not there, and you are left to fall. Human refuges are well in their place, as gifts of God, as shelters for an hour; but you need to have the Rock of Ages for your refuge! Then you will never find your hiding place removed, when you need to flee into it. In any hour you can creep into that shelter, and sing:
Jesus, Lover of my soul, Let me to Your bosom fly, While the nearer waters roll, While the tempest still is high: Hide me, O my Savior, hide, Till the storm of life is past; Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last!
Other refuge have I none; Hangs my helpless soul on Thee; Leave, ah! leave me not alone, Still support and comfort me. All my trust on You is stayed, All my help from You I bring; Cover my defenseless head With the shadow of Your wing!
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