Greetings,
Charles H. Spurgeon’s devotional readings from the turn
of the century continue to be though provoking.
She bound the scarlet line in the window.
Joshua 2:21
Rahab depended on the promise of the spies for her
preservation. She looked on them as the
representatives of the God of Israel. Her faith was simple and firm, but it was
very obedient. To tie the scarlet line
in the window was a trivial act in itself, but she dared not run the risk of
omitting it. Come, my soul, is there not
here a lesson for you? Have you been
attentive to all your Lord’s will, even though some of His commands should seem
nonessential? Have you observed in His
own was the two ordinances of believers’ baptism and the Lord’s Supper? Have I implicitly trusted I the precious
blood of Jesus? Can I look out toward
the Dead Sea of my sins, or the Jerusalem of my hopes, without seeing the blood? The passer-by can see a cord of a conspicuous
color if it hangs from the window. It
will be well for me if my life makes the atonement conspicuous to all
onlookers. What is there to be ashamed
of? Let men or devils gaze if they
will. The blood is my boast and my
song. My soul, there is One who will see
that scarlet line, even when from weakness of faith you cannot see it
yourself. Jehovah, the Avenger, will see
it and pass over you. Jericho’s walls fell flat.
Rahab’s house was on the wall, and yet it stood unmoved. My nature is built into the wall of humanity;
and yet, when destruction smites the race, I will be secure. My soul, tie the scarlet thread in the window
afresh and rest in peace.
Now, to today's note:
In 1693 William Penn wrote The Fruits of Solitude. From 1692 to 1694 Penn, due to his support of
James II, lost control of the Pennsylvania colony: thus these words are born of personal
experience. Three hundred plus years
later they still speak to us. You will
note how they represent some of the essentials of Quaker thinking.
For disappointments that come not by our own folly, they
are the trials or corrections of heaven: and it is our own fault if they prove
not to our advantage.
To repine at them does not mend the matter; it is only to
grumble at our Creator. But to see the
hand of God in them, with a humble submission to His will, is the way to turn
our water into wine and engage the greatest love and mercy on our side.
We must needs disorder ourselves if we look only at our
losses. But if we consider how little we
deserve what is left, our passion will cool, and our murmurs will turn into
thankfulness.
If our hairs fall not to the ground, less do we or our
substance without God’s providence.
Nor can we fall below the arms of God, how low soever it
be we fall.
For though our Saviour’s passion is over, His compassion
is not. That never fails His humble,
sincere disciples. In Him they find more
than all that they lose in the world.
Is it reasonable to take it ill that anybody desires of
us that which is their own? All we have
is the Almighty’s: and shall not God have His own when He calls for it?
Discontentedness is not only in such a case ingratitude,
but injustice. For we are both
unthankful for the time we had it, and not honest enough to restore it, if we
could keep it.
But it is hard for us to look on things in such a glass,
and at such a distance from this low world; and yet it is our duty, and would
be our wisdom and our glory to do so.
Yours & His,
DED
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