Faith in trials highlights the believer's steadfast trust in God amid suffering and adversity, demonstrating spiritual maturity and reliance on divine grace (James 1:2-4). Illustrations often use images of storms, blacksmithing, and musical beauty emerging from tragedy to portray how trials refine and strengthen faith, producing endurance, courage, and ultimate triumph (Romans 5:3-5).
God humbles the murmuring to bring joy and trust through trials and deliverance.
At the time of the captivity, Uri, a man of Israel, became discontented, and murmured against God. When Uri had lamented, one day, the cause of his tribulations in the strange country, the Lord caused a deep sleep to fall upon him. He dreamed that he had left Babylon, with his wife and children, and was again reposing in the mountains of Bethlehem. And his heart was full of joy; and he exclaimed, "Let us be glad, and of good cheer; for all our troubles are at an end." Suddenly, the sun was darkened, the thunder rolled in the heavens, the earth quaked; and the beams of their dwelling trembled. Hastily, Uri took his family, and fled into the field. Scarcely had they left, when the house fell, and the earth where they stood seemed yawning to receive them. Trembling, he sought amid the lightning glare for a safe retreat; but, amid the hurry of change, his child, the youngest, was missing. The father was about to descend for the child, when the earthquake began again; the rock under their feet receded. In anguish he cried, "Who can help us, and save us from this death?" He awoke: he was still in the land of Babylon. "The Lord be praised!" said he: "it was but a dream." But the angel of the Lord stood at the foot of the bed, and said, "This dream came from God. I touched thy forehead; and, when thou didst awake, thy troubles ended. Uri, fear not, but believe." And Uri humbled himself before God, and said, "I have looked for grapes on thorns." And he believed, and comforted his people. And, after these days, Cyrus proclaimed a decree that the Israelites should return to their own land. Krummacher.
A peaceful Christian town was spared attack because of their peaceful Christian conduct.
It is said that a regiment was once sent to capture a town in the Tyrol. They reached it, marched through the streets, but found no enemy to oppose them. The children were attracted by the novel uniforms and music; but the people employed themselves peaceably, as usual. Finding no enemy, the soldiers marched away. The secret of it was, the people were all Christians.
Life's progress demands continual upward striving; no retreat, only forward to heaven's summit.
The more thorough a man's education is, the more he yearns for and is pushed forward to new achievement. The better a man is in this world, the better he is compelled to be. That bold youth who climbed up the Natural Bridge in Virginia, and carved his name higher than any other, found, when he had done so, that it was impossible for him to descend, and that his only alternative was to go on and scale the height, and find safety at the top. Thus it is with all climbing in this life. There is no going down. It is climbing or falling. Every upward step makes another needful; and so we must go on until we reach heaven, the summit of the aspirations of time. Beecher.
Difficulties should not deter one from pursuing religion, just as dangers don't stop other pursuits.
Men do not refuse to cross the ocean because of storms; or to travel by rail because of accidents; or to enter into business because of losses; or to fight in the battle-field because of cannon, sword, deaths; or to study science and philosophy, because of mysteries; nor should men object to the study and practice of religion, because of the various difficulties which may stand connected with it. Bate.
Christianity in a regiment correlated with lower death rates despite harsh conditions.
Col. A. J. Edgerton, while commanding a brigade in Louisiana, in which sickness and death were extremely prevalent, was requested to prohibit religious meetings, as "religion tended to depress the spirits of the men," and to injure their health. He caused a careful examination to be made, and learned, that, while two-fifths of the whole regiment had died, only one-eighth of the Christians in it had died.
In danger, faith and prayer can lead to unexpected divine protection and deliverance.
Rev. R. Cecil once fell into the hands of four highwaymen. Perceiving his danger, the thought struck him. "Here is an occasion for faith," and also "Call upon me in the day of trouble." He silently prayed for deliverance. The leader of the hand asked him who he was. Mr. Cecil told them his name and business. The leader said, "Sir, I know you and have heard you preach: let the gentleman's horse go. We wish you good-night." Mr. Cecil had with him sixteen pounds at the time.
Do your part diligently and trust God with the outcomes, neither despairing nor presuming.
Do thy part with industry, and leave the event with
God. I have seen matters fall out so unexpectedly, that they have taught me, in all affairs, neither to despair nor to presume; not to despair, for God can help me; not to presume, for God can cross me. I will never despair, because I have a God; I will never presume, because I am but a man. Feltham.
God’s word can protect and sustain believers even in life-threatening trials.
Dr. John Evans, the author of some excellent sermons on the Christian temper, introduced, on one occasion, a sermon to young people, in the following manner:—Shall I be allowed to preface this discourse with relating a passage concerning an acquaintance of mine, who has been many years dead, but which I remember to have received, when young, from himself? When he was an apprentice in this city, the civil war began; his inclination led him into the army, where he had a captain's commission. It was fashionable for all the men of that army to carry a Bible along with them; which, therefore, he and many others did, who yet made little use of it, and hardly had any sense of serious religion. At length he was commanded, with his company, to storm a fort, wherein they were, for a short time, exposed to the thickest of the enemy's fire. When he had accomplished his enterprise, and the heat of the action was over, he found that a musket ball had lodged in his Bible, which was in his pocket, upon such a part of his body, that it must necessarily have proved mortal to him, had it not been for this seasonable and well-placed piece of armor. Upon a nearer observation, he found the ball had made its way so far in his Bible, as to rest directly upon that part of the first unbroken leaf, where the words of my text are found. It was Eccles. 11: 9; "Rejoice, O young man, in thy youth; and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of thine eyes; but know thou, that for all these things God will bring thee into judgment." As the surprising deliverance, you may apprehend, much affected him, so a passage, which his conscience told him was very apposite to his case, and which Providence in so remarkable a way pointed to his observation, made the deepest and best impression on his mind; and, by the grace of God, he from that time attended to religion in earnest, and continued in the practice of it to a good old age; frequently making the remark with pleasure, that his Bible had been the salvation both of his body and his soul.
# 63. Conversion of the Learned and Eminent.
Faith enables calm trust and praise amid life-threatening storms and death.
On board an
East-Indiaman was a pious boatswain, whom, on this account, the crew looked upon as a strange man. The ship was overtaken with a storm so dreadful, that after every effort to preserve life, the captain said, 'All that could be done had been done—it was impossible the vessel could weather it.' The ship seemed sinking—the captain withdrew into the cabin—the men were some on their knees, and others with horror hanging on parts of the rigging. All expected the vessel would founder. The boatswain had been very active, and apparently unalarmed, during the whole of the gale. At this moment, when a heavy wave struck the ship, and seemed as if it would instantly sink her, looking up with a smile he exclaimed,
'Blessed be God, all is right!' and he began to sing. The storm afterwards abated, and the vessel was saved. Thus, amidst the storm of life, on the dark ocean of death, and amidst the terrors of the judgment day the Christian may still smile and exulting exclaim, 'Blessed be God, all is right!'
Trusting Christ boldly brings peace and joy even amid trials and uncertainty.
The Rev. John Butterworth, a minister of England, speaking of his religious experiences, says, "One day as I was reading in a book called the 'Marrow of Modern Divinity,' a sentence from Luther was quoted, which was this, 'I would run into the arms of Christ, if he stood with a drawn sword in his hand.' This thought came bolting into my mind—'so will I too;' and those words of Job occurred—'Though he slay me, yet will I trust him.' My burden dropped off; my soul was filled with joy and peace through believing in Christ; a venturesome believing, as Mr. Belcher calls it, was the means of setting me at liberty; nor have I ever been in such perplexity, respecting my interest in Christ, since that time; though I have had various trials in other respects."
God uses simple creation to strengthen faith amid severe spiritual temptation.
When the Rev. John Thorpe, of Masborough, in Yorkshire, (Eng.) had preached for about two years, he was greatly harassed with temptations to atheism, which continued, with a few intervals, many months. His distress sometimes, on this account, was so great, as to embarrass his mind beyond description. At length, however, he was happily delivered, by the following occurrence:—
Passing through a wood, with a design to preach in a neighboring village, while he was surveying his hand, a leaf
### GRACE AND M
186. As Revealed in Jesus Christ.
Christian calmness in trials demonstrates strength from faith and trust in God.
"Some impressions," says a young man, who went out as a missionary to seldom to be found in like cases. Mr. Cathcart describes his plan and object in the following words:—"A memorial of acts of kindness, that as memory is liable to fail, and as the kindness and friendship of former times may be forgotten, the remembrance of friendly offices done to the writer or to his family, or to his particular friends, might be preserved, in order that he may himself repay the debt in grateful acknowledgements while he lived, and that his family after him might know to whom their father owed obligations, and might feel every debt of gratitude due by him as obligations on themselves."
Faith in God's word sustains and comforts people facing death and disaster.
The efficacy of faith in the word of God, to support the mind in the hour of trouble, has often been the subject of conversation, and its power has been very strikingly illustrated. The writer of the interesting "NARRATIVE OF THE LOSS OF THE KENT EAST INDIAMAN," in 1825, states that, when that vessel was on fire, several of the soldiers' wives and children, who had fled for temporary shelter into the after-cabins on the upper deck, were engaged in prayer and in reading the Scriptures with the ladies; some of whom were enabled, with wonderful self-possession, to offer to others those spiritual consolations, which a firm and intelligent trust in the Redeemer of the world appeared at this awful hour to impart to their own breasts. The dignified deportment of two young ladies, in particular, formed a specimen of natural strength of mind, finely modified by Christian feeling, that failed not to attract the notice and admiration of every one who had an opportunity of witnessing it. On the melancholy announcement being made to them, that all hope must be relinquished, and that death was rapidly and inevitably approaching, one of the ladies above referred to, calmly sinking down on her knees, and clasping her hands together, said, "Even so, come, Lord Jesus!" and immediately proposed to read a portion of the Scriptures to those around her; her sister, with nearly equal composure and collectiveness of mind, selected the forty-sixth and other appropriate Psalms; which were accordingly read, with intervals of prayer, by those ladies alternately, to the assembled females.
A calm captain's faith leads a swearing pilot to conversion through Scripture reading.
A pious captain, when sailing down the Mississippi, had the misfortune to have his vessel so much injured, that there was great danger of the loss of both ship and cargo. Though placed in this perilous situation, he manifested a composure which evinced that his mind was stayed on his God, while he omitted nothing that could be done to save the property intrusted to his care.
While in this situation, there came to his aid one of the pilots on that station, who, by his own account, neither feared God nor regarded man; and, after offering his services, began to storm and swear. After a little time, however, he began to contrast his conduct with the captain's and said to himself, "How is it that, while I have nothing at risk, I am swearing as though it were mine; and the captain, who has property and reputation at stake, seems perfectly calm? It must be his religion, and, as I have a Bible on board my boat, I will immediately commence reading it, and see if I can find what his religion is." He did read, and the Spirit of God applied the truth. He became convinced that he was a lost sinner, and that without the religion which he had seen so impressively exhibited, he must be lost. Conviction resulted in conversion; and he afterwards called on the captain, to tell him what the Lord had done for his soul.
# 191. In Illness.
True enjoyment comes from God whether in prosperity or loss.
I have here, said Rev. Mr. Fuller, two religious characters, who were intimately acquainted in early life. Providence favored one of them with a tide of prosperity. The other, fearing for his friend, lest his heart should be overcharged with the cares of this life and the deceitfulness of riches, one day asked him whether he did not find prosperity a snare to him. He paused, and answered, "I am not conscious that I do, for I enjoy God in all things." Some years after, his affairs took another turn. He lost, if not the whole, yet the far greater part of what he had once gained, and was greatly reduced. His old friend being one day in his company, renewed his question, whether he did not find what had lately be fallen him to be too much for him. Again he paused, and answered, "I am not conscious that I do, for now I enjoy all things in God." This was truly a life of faith.
Faith and benevolence bring joy despite difficult and painful circumstances.
The celebrated philanthropist, Howard, who spent the best part of his life in traveling over all the countries of Europe,—
"to plunge into the infection of hospitals,—to survey the mansions of sorrow and pain,—to remember the forgotten, and to visit the forsaken, under all climes,"—was not unhappy amidst his toils. In a letter from Riga, during his last journey, he says, "I hope I have sources of enjoyment that depend not on the particular spot I inhabit; a rightly cultivated mind, under the power of religion and the exercise of beneficent dispositions, affords a ground of satisfaction little affected by heres and theres."
Faith and prayer provide deliverance in times of danger and trouble.
On one occasion when the Rev. Richard Cecil had to travel on horseback from London to Lewes to serve his churches, instead of leaving town early in the morning he was detained till noon, in consequence of which he did not arrive on East Grinstead Common till after dark. On this common he met a man on horseback who appeared to be intoxicated and ready to fall from his horse at every step. Mr. C. called to him and warned him of his danger, which the man disregarding, with his usual benevolence he rode up to him in order to prevent his falling, when the man immediately seized the reins of his horse. Mr. C. perceiving he was in bad hands endeavored to break away, on which the man threatened to knock him down if he repeated the attempt. Three other men on horseback immediately rode up, placing Mr. C. in the midst of them. On perceiving his danger it struck him, "Here is an occasion for faith!" and that gracious direction also occurred to him: "Call upon me in the time of trouble; I will deliver thee."—Psa. 50: 15. He secretly lifted up his heart to God, entreating the deliverance which he alone could effect. One of the men, who seemed to be the captain of the gang, asked him who he was and whither he was going. Mr. C. here recurred to a principle to which his mind was habituated, that "nothing needs a lie;" he therefore told them very frankly his name and whither he was going. The leader said: "Sir, I know you, and have heard you preach at Lewes. Let the gentleman's horse go. We wish you good-night." Mr. C. had about him sixteen pounds, which he had been to town to receive, and which at that time was to him a large sum.
A colporteur endures severe hardships relying on God to win souls for Christ.
The following is language held by a Colporteur of the American Tract Society, in Florida:—
"A colporteur must count the cost, admonished by Him who came to seek and to save that which was lost. Bodily strength and vigor of health are prerequisites. He must be willing to abide with the poorest and most ignorant of our fellow-men, and be content with the humblest fare; cheerfully endure cold and heat, hunger and thirst, labor and fatigue, if souls may be benefited and the kingdom of our Redeemer promoted. Above all, he needs an entire reliance on the Divine aid and guidance, and must have his own heart subdued by the Spirit of God.
"Though I have sunk in the bogs, and have extricated myself only by excessive labor; have broken down in the midst of a difficult stream, in the sickly and hot season, and waded out with my boxes of books; have been lost two days in the woods without food for myself or horse; have lain in the wild forest far from any habitation while the storm was raging about me, or only the bowling of wolves and of other wild beasts was heard; yet these trials of hunger, thirst, and exposure are of little account, if I can but win souls to Christ."
A pastor preached non-resistance despite threats, exemplifying Christian patience.
M. Oberlin was appointed minister of the Ban de la Roche, France, in the year 1767: he was then twenty-seven years of age. His parish was a very rude and ignorant district, secluded from the rest of the province. His predecessor, an excellent individual, had commenced the execution of several plans which were likely to improve the moral and religious state of his parish. M. Oberlin determined to carry on and extend these measures as far as he could, to the great satisfaction of those who had approved them; but the greater part of the inhabitants were resolved to oppose the designs of their excellent pastor, and laid a plan to waylay him, and treat him with such severity as might effectually deter him from continuing his admonitions. Their pastor was informed of this intention, and that an approaching Lord's day was fixed for the perpetration of their wicked design. On that day he took for his text the words of our Lord, Matt. v. 39, "Resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also." In the course of his sermon he spoke of the Christian patience with which we ought to suffer injuries. After service the conspirators assembled at the house of one of their number, and were probably amusing themselves with the idea that their minister would himself soon have to put in practice the lessons he had just given. While conferring upon the execution of their plan, the door suddenly opened, and to their great astonishment, M. Oberlin himself stood in the midst of the assembly. "Here am I, my friends," said he, with a calmness which inspired even the most violent with respect; "I am aware of your intentions with regard to me. You intend to beat me, and to chastise me for acting in a manner which you disapprove. If I have broken the rules of conduct which I have laid down for you to follow, then punish me. I would much rather give myself up to you, than to have you guilty of the baseness of lying in wait for me." This simple address produced an immediate effect. The peasants, ashamed of themselves, entreated his pardon, and promised that they would not again doubt his affection for them. From that period he was enabled to pursue his benevolent designs, and, eventually, a most pleasing change was effected.
A missionary’s calm faith under attack led to an infidel’s violent reaction and unexpected need.
Dea. Eaton, a missionary on the Erie canal, once came in contact with an infidel on a canal boat, who urged him into a dispute about the divinity of Jesus Christ. At first he proposed to argue the question on the ground of the Scriptures, but being confounded by Dea. Eaton's reading I John, chapter v., he declared that the Bible was nothing but man's invention. "I saw," says Dea. E., "that he appeared to be very angry, and left him; but during the whole afternoon, whenever he had an opportunity, he would vent some of his spite upon me. When we came to Syracuse, where we changed packets, I thought I should stop, and was bidding the passengers farewell. Among the rest I shook hands with the infidel's wife, and said to her, 'I hope you will alter your belief before I see you again.' He saw me talking to her, and coming along, struck off my hand with which I held hers, and said, 'Let the woman alone. If you wish to attack any one, try me, but don't abuse the woman."
I asked his pardon, and told him I intended no abuse to any one. I finally concluded to go in the packet, and as the boat started many of the passengers went on deck, and among the rest the infidel and his wife. I was in the cabin when a man came down in great haste, and inquired for a bottle of camphor; he said a man had fainted on deck. Without knowing who it was, it struck me immediately that it was the infidel, and that God had destroyed him. I went on deck, and sure enough the infidel was dead. A gentleman with whom he was conversing, said he was railing against me, and saying I was sponging my living, when he fell in a moment with a half-uttered curse on his lips. They were trying to bring him back to life, but I saw that there were no hopes that he would ever breathe again. He was dead the moment he reached the deck, and then presented the most awful object I had ever looked upon. His eyes were open, and his countenance indicated awful despair. It was a solemn moment, as still as the house of death. One of the boatmen said to me, "It will not do to fight against God."
A wife's prayer and faith led to deliverance from her husband's drunkenness.
In a publication of the Massachusetts Sabbath School Society, which abounds with excellent sentiments, entitled "A Practical Directory for Young Christian Females," is the following narrative:
The amazing influence of one Christian, who shows in her life the spirit of Christ, is illustrated in a striking manner, in the life of a lady who died not long since, in one of the principal cities of the United States. I am not permitted to give her name, nor all the particulars of her life. But what I relate may be relied upon, not only as facts, but as far below the whole truth. She had been for a long time afflicted with a drunken husband. At length the sheriff came, and swept off all her property, not excepting her household furniture, to discharge his grog bills. At this distressing crisis, she retired to an upper room, laid her babe upon the bare floor, kneeled down over it, and offered up the following petition: "O Lord, if thou wilt in any way remove from me this affliction, I will serve thee upon bread and water, all the days of my life." The Lord took her at her word. Her besotted husband immediately disappeared, and was never heard of again till after her death. The church would now have maintained her, but she would not consent to become a charge of others. Although in feeble health, and afflicted with the sick headache, she opened a small school, from which she obtained a bare subsistence; though it was often no more than what was contained in the condition of her prayer—literally bread and water. She was a lady of pleasing address, and of a mild and gentle disposition. "In her lips was the law of kindness." Yet she possessed an energy of character and a spirit of perseverance, which the power of faith alone can impart. When she undertook any Christian enterprise, she was discouraged by no obstacles, and appalled by no difficulties. She resided in the most wicked and abandoned part of the city, which afforded a great field of labor. Her benevolent heart was pained at seeing the grogshops open upon the holy Sabbath. She undertook the difficult and almost hopeless task of closing these sinks of moral pollution upon the Lord's day, and succeeded. This was accomplished by the mild influence of persuasion, flowing from the lips of kindness, and clothed with that power which always accompanies the true spirit of the gospel. But she was not satisfied with seeing the front doors and windows of these houses closed. She would, therefore, upon the morning of the Sabbath, pass round, and enter these shops through the dwellings occupied by the families of the keepers, where she often found them engaged secretly in this wickedness. She would then remonstrate with them, until she persuaded them to abandon it, and attend public worship. In this manner, she abolished, almost entirely, the sale of liquors upon the Sabbath, in the worst part of the city.
She also looked after the poor, that the gospel might be preached to them. She carried with her the number of those pews in the church which were unoccupied. And upon Sabbath mornings, she made it her business to go out into the streets and lanes of the city, and persuade the poor to come in and fill up these vacant seats. By her perseverance and energy, she would remove every objection, until she had brought them to the house of God. She was incessant and untiring in every effort for doing good. She would establish a Sabbath school, and superintend it until she saw it flourishing, and then deliver it into the hands of some suitable person, and go and establish another. She collected together a Bible class of apprentices, which she taught herself. Her pastor one day visited it, and found half of them in tears, under deep conviction. She was faithful to the church and to impenitent sinners. It was her habitual practice to reprove sin, and to warn sinners wherever she found them. At the time of her death, she had under her care a number of pious young men preparing for the ministry. These she had looked after, and brought out of obscurity. As soon as their piety had been sufficiently proved, she would bring them to the notice of her Christian friends. She persuaded pious teachers to give them gratuitous instruction, and pious booksellers to supply them with books. In the same way, she procured their board, in the families of wealthy Christians. And she formed little societies of ladies, to supply them with clothing. There was probably no person in the city whose death would have occasioned the shedding of more tears, or called forth more sincere and heartfelt grief. Her memory is still deeply cherished in the heart of her pastor. He has been heard to say, that he should not have felt so severely the loss of six of the most devoted men in his church.
God's grace enables believers to remain virtuous despite severe trials and loss.
Loyalty to God brings Joseph into serious testings. God's grace enables him to overcome enemy's assaults. Though world strips us of our possessions, we need not be stripped of virtue
Faith is tested in trials, revealing trust or doubt despite Christ's presence.
Jesus had been teaching disciples all day—now tests their faith to see what they have learned. Said, "Let us pass over"—should have assured them of arrival. When storm arises they are faithless and rebuke Him. If He was at perfect rest, could there have been real danger of their perishing? See v. 40. God's storm can only help God's business—why the faithless with Jesus on board
Faith endures hardships by trusting God’s presence and help.
Faith of Jonathan is proved by encountering sharp rocks. Nevertheless he counts on God (v. 6) and pushes ahead. Rom. 8:31
God allows hard providences to test faith and magnify His sustaining power.
God's dealings with His people at times seem to thwart His promises. He tries faith that His power might be magnified. Sustains us in our trials if we trust
Faith is tested after communion with God, requiring trust rather than retreat to Egypt.
After communion with God (v. 7-8) may expect faith to be tested. Some go down into Egypt rather than set up altar of worship and faith
Elimelech's family suffered for leaving God's land, showing trials test faith and trust.
Elimelech and family abandon land of favor and sojourn in Moab because testing comes. Better trust in God in Canaan than be punished in Moab with plenty. Moab place of divine displeasure (Deut. 23:3). Writer of Ruth shows that calamities which befell Elimelech and family were because they did not stay in land of God's favor and trust Him
Trials sift motives and shape believers to be more like Christ, as seen in Job's testing.
and throughout. Trial as the school of faith—not always given as chastisement but to sift our motives and make us more like the Master. In Job's case it was proven that there was more in him than was attached to him
Trials depend on God's will; Jonah caused disaster, Paul brought hope in storm.
and Acts 27:21. Much depends upon the way we come into trouble. Jonah on the ship was a cause of disaster because out of God's will. Paul on a ship in storm was source of hope
Trials refine believers like a furnace, with God's light shining brighter in darkness.
Smoking furnace picture of trials through which believer is to pass in coming to his inheritance. The lighted lamp tells of God's relief which shines brighter as the road gets darker
Believers can cheerfully trust God's faithfulness amid trials and difficulties.
Since God has promised to be faithful to His own in the storms, let them be cheerful, knowing while He has work for them to do, no difficulty can get in the way
Faith begins by standing still and trusting God in helplessness during danger.
Faith's first attitude in presence of trial is to "stand still." Can't go ahead in divine strength till we have learned to stand still in our own helplessness and look to God
Endure life's burdens one moment at a time, trusting God for strength daily.
A celebrated modern writer says, "Take care of the minutes, and the hours will take care of themselves." This is an admirable remark, and might be very seasonably recollected when we begin to be "weary in well-doing," from the thought of having much to do. The present moment is all we have to do with in any sense; the past is irrecoverable; the future is uncertain; nor is it fair to burden one moment with the weight of the next. Sufficient unto the moment is the trouble thereof. If we had to walk a hundred miles, we should still have to set but one step at a time, and this process continued would infallibly bring us to our journey's end. Fatigue generally begins, and is always increased, by calculating in a minute the exertion of hours. Thus, in looking forward to future life, let us recollect that we have not to sustain all its toil, to endure all its sufferings, or encounter all its crosses at once. One moment comes laden with its own little burdens, then flies, and is succeeded by another no heavier than the last; if one could be borne, so could another, and another. Even in looking forward to a single day, the spirit may sometimes faint from an anticipation of the duties, the labours, the trials to temper and patience, that may be expected. Now, this is unjustly laying the burden of many thousand moments upon one.—Youth's Magazine for November, 1819.
Faith overcomes worldly temptations by focusing on the superior joys of heaven.
When a traveller was asked whether he did not admire the admirable structure of some stately building, " No," said he, "for I've been at Rome, where better are to be seen every day." O believer, if the world tempt thee with its rare sights and curious prospects, thou mayst well scorn them, having been, by contemplation, in heaven, and being able, by faith, to see infinitely better delights every hour of the day. "This is the victory which overcometh the world, even our faith."
Faithful endurance and cooperation help overcome life's storms and challenges.
A ship on her way to Australia met with a very terrible storm, and sprung aleak. As evils seldom come alone, a little while after another tempest assailed her. There happened to be a gentleman on board, of the most nervous temperament, whose garrulous tongue and important air were calculated to alarm all the passengers. When the storm came on, the captain, who knew what mischief may be done by a suspicious and talkative individual, managed to get near him with a view to rendering him quiet. The gentlemen addressing the captain, said in a tone of alarm, "What an awful storm; I am afraid we shall go to the bottom, for I hear the leak is very bad." "Well," said the captain, "as you seem to know it, and perhaps the others do not, you had better not mention it to any one, lest you should frighten the passengers or dispirit my men. Perhaps as it is a very bad case, you would lend us your valuable help, and then we may possibly get through it. Would you have the goodness to stand here and hold hard on this rope; pray do not leave it, but pull as hard as ever you can till I tell you to let it go." So our friend clenched his teeth, and put his feet firmly down, and kept on holding this rope with all his might, till he earnestly wished for a substitute. The storm abated; the ship was safe, and our friend was released from his rope-holding. He expected a deputation would bring him the thanks of all the passengers, but they were evidently unconscious of his merits; for it is too often the case that we forget our greatest benefactors. Even the captain did not seem very grateful; so our hero ventured, in a roundabout style to hint, that such valuable services as his, having saved the vessel, ought to be rewarded at least with some few words of acknowledgment; when he was shocked to hear the captain say, "What, sir, do you think you saved the vessel? Why, I gave you that rope to hold to keep you engaged, that you might not be in such a feverish state of alarm." The self-righteous may here see how much men contribute to their own salvation apart from Christ. They think they can certainly save themselves, and there they stand holding the rope with their clenched teeth and their feet tightly fixed, while they are really doing no more than our officious friend, who was thus befooled. If ever you get to heaven, you will find that everything you did towards your own salvation, apart from the Lord Jesus, was about as useful as holding the rope; that in fact, the safety of the soul lies somewhere else, and not in you; and that what is wanted with you is just to get out of the way, and let Christ come in and magnify his grace.
True faith is proven and deepened through sorrow and conviction, not ease or prosperity.
A faith look at Jesus breaks the heart both for sin and from sin. A faith that never wept is a faith that never lived. A frequent hearer is likely to become a fervent believer. A gash in the conscience may disfigure a soul forever. A gospel that does not suit everybody does not suit anybody. A groundless hope is a mere delusion. A little food cooked is better for dinner than a great joint raw. A living argument is invincible.
Experienced believers trust God in storms, gaining spiritual stability like seasoned sailors.
When fresh water sailors first go to sea every capful of wind frightens them; and if the vessel lurches a little they cry, "She will certainly go over"; but the old tar, who knows what a storm means, thanks God for the wind, for it will drive the ship more rapidly into port, and he never minds a lurch or two; he has his sea legs by this time; and so men who have been blessed of God for years ought to be equally at ease.
Faith grows strongest through trials, like trees rooted deeper by storms.
The way in which most men get their faith increased is by great trouble. We do not grow strong in faith in sunshiny days. It is in stormy weather that faith grows stronger. Faith is not an attainment that drops like the gentle dew from heaven; it generally comes in the whirlwind and the storm. Look at the old oaks; how is it that they have become so deeply rooted in the earth? Ask the March winds, and they will tell you. It was not the April shower that did it, or the sweet May sunshine, but the rough wind shaking the tree to and fro, causing its roots to strike deeper and to take a firmer hold. And so must it be with us. We cannot make great soldiers in the barracks at home; they must be made amidst flying shot and thundering cannon. We cannot expect to make good sailors on the Serpentine; they must be trained far away on the deep sea, where the wild winds howl, and the thunders roll like drums in the march of the God of armies. Storms and tempests are the things that make men tough and hardy mariners. They see the works of the Lord and His wonders in the deep. It is thus with Christians. Great faith must have great trials. Mr. Great-heart would never have been Mr. Great-heart if he had not once been Mr. Great-trouble. Valiant-for-truth would never have put to flight those foes and have been so valiant, if the foes had not first attacked him. We must expect great troubles before we shall attain to much faith.
Men without experience bravely navigate storms by adapting and trusting their resources.
As an illustration of adaptability to circumstances and the willingness to take chances in order to achieve results of any kind, of the men who open up a new country to civilization, a recent incident is instructive:
A little schooner reached Seattle recently from Nome, on Bering Sea. She had made the voyage down during the most tempestuous season of the year in the North Pacific, and had survived storms which tried well-found steamships of the better class. Yet there was not a man on board, from the captain down, who had ever made a voyage at sea, save as passengers, on a boat running to Alaska. There were no navigating instruments on board save a compass and an obsolete Russian chart of the North Pacific.
These men wanted to come out for the winter, and there was no other way within their means to accomplish the trip. They got hold of the schooner and they started with her. They were not seamen or navigators, simply handy men who were accustomed to doing things for themselves. This was out of the routine, but they did it.
Doing what must be done with available resources shows practical faith and courage.
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The men who made the voyage down from Nome in a little schooner without any previous knowledge of seamanship probably saw nothing remarkable in the feat. They were used to doing things that had to be done with the material that came to hand, whether they knew anything about how it should be done or not.--Seattle _Post-Intelligencer_.
Problems seem small from afar but reveal their true vastness up close.
As I came into your city to-night I saw your great structure [Brooklyn Bridge] across the river here, binding the two great cities together and making them one, and I remember that as I came the last time into your beautiful bay down yonder, I saw what seemed to be a mere web of gossamer, a bare hand’s breadth along the horizon. It seemed as if I might have swept it away with my hand if I could have reached it, so airy and light it was in the distance, but when I came close to it to-night I found that it was one of the greatest structures that human intellect has ever devised. I saw it thrilling and vibrating with every energy of our pulsating, modern life. At a distance it looked as if the vessels nearest would strike it, full head, and carry it away. When I reached it I saw that it was so high, so vast, that the traffic of your great stream passed easily backward and forward under it. So it is with some problems. They may appear very small to you, ladies and gentlemen, or to us, when seen at a distance--as tho merely a handsweep would get rid of them; but nearer at hand they appear too vast to be moved easily.
— THOMAS NELSON PAGE
Sidney Lanier’s faith endured despair, showing hope and assurance even in extremity.
Sidney Lanier once, at least, in dire extremity, while stricken with a mortal malady, and almost lacking subsistence for his family in this wealthy city (Baltimore), sent forth a cry of agony that came perilously near to surrender of faith. He rose from his abysmal despair to make another valiant effort at the last, and never afterward questioned the goodness of God even in hours of awful discouragement. And so he died, feeling that all would be well with him and those he loved stronger than death. Ye who are about to abandon the tumultuous and uneven contest, think of this example, look to heaven and make another honest, prayerful effort for relief!--Baltimore _American_.
Inadequate faith falters under pressure, unlike steadfast trust in God's providence.
A great many people’s faith is like the old woman’s trust. The horse ran away with a wagon in which she was seated and she was in imminent peril. But she was rescued, and some one said to her: “Madam, how did you feel when the horse ran away?” “Well,” said she, “I hardly know how I felt; you see, I trusted in Providence at first, and when the harness broke, then I gave up.”
— JOHN B. GOUGH
Pressing forward in faith dispels life's confusions like sunlight breaking mountain mists.
The peaks of some mountains are always enveloped in morning mists. They shut down on the climber like a sky of lead beyond which neither rift in the clouds or ray of sunlight is visible. The expansive view is excluded and self is left, humanly speaking, alone in the gloom. But if he presses forward, keeping onward and upward, the light of the eastern sun will soon flood him with light.
In the world we are often confused by the mountain mists. Then is the time to press forward, in the faith that we shall see the rays of the rising Son of righteousness dispel the clouds and light breaking forth. (Text.)
Meeting troubles cheerfully and with kindness leads to true happiness and prosperity.
I have recently read this story about an unhappy woman. She was, indeed, very miserable, and for years her complaints were loud and constant. But one day she happened to read of a naval disaster: the ship was doomed, but the officers set the band playing, the flags flying, and, drest in full uniform, with their white gloves on, waited for the ship to go down.
She thought of herself, and was ashamed. Never had she met disaster except with tears and complaints. “I won’t be as I have been any more,” she said to herself. “When troubles come to me, tho I perish as those officers did, I will meet them as they did, with flags flying, the band playing, and my white gloves on.” And new troubles came; but with each one she said to herself, “The flags must fly to-day, the band play, and I must have my white gloves on.” And, if the trial were very severe, she would actually put on her best clothes, and with smiling face go out to perform some act of cheerful kindness.
And after some years the result is that she seems to be happy and prosperous. People call her fortunate. Another complaining woman said to her, “Oh, it is well enough for you to talk, you who have never known a trouble in your life.”
“A trouble in my life!” the cheerful woman said to herself, and stopt to think. “A trouble! Perhaps not; but now, thank God, those which I thought I had seem no longer to have belonged to me, but to some other person living centuries ago.” And she felt sorry for her fretful friend.
— M. O. SIMMONS
Changing standards can create illusions, reminding us to keep a true spiritual perspective.
If we were to note that, suddenly and in the same proportions, the distance between two points on this earth had increased, that all the planets had moved farther from each other, that all objects around us had become larger, that we ourselves had become taller, and that the distance traveled by light in the duration of a vibration had become greater, we should not hesitate to think ourselves the victims of an illusion, that in reality all these distances had remained fixt, and that all these appearances were due to a shortening of the rule which we had used as the standard for measuring the lengths.--LUCIAN POINCARE, “The New Physics and Its Evolution.”
The tension of moral responsibility in battle reflects divine greatness and courage.
The German marshal, von Manteuffel, in a speech made in Alsace-Lorraine, said:
War! Yes, gentlemen, I am a soldier. War is the element of the soldier, and I should like to taste it. That elevated sentiment of commanding in battle, of knowing that the bullet of the enemy may call you any moment before God’s tribunal, of knowing that the fate of the battle, and consequently the destiny of your country, may depend on the orders which you give--this tension of mind and of feelings is divinely great. (Text.)
A painting of Hope shows playing on one unbroken string despite loss.
In the Tate Gallery in London there is a picture entitled “Hope.” Seated on a globe representing the earth is a woman blindfolded. The water which encloses the globe reaches to her feet. In her hands is a lyre with all the strings broken excepting one. She does not mend the broken chords, she does not wring her hands in helpless remorse over opportunities that are gone forever, but continues playing on the single string that is left unbroken.
It is the part of a brave man to do his best with what material is still at his disposal, instead of wasting time in vainly regretting what might have been. (Text.)
Spiritual struggle involves intense doubt and fear before emerging into faith and ministry.
After Bunyan’s marriage the record of the next few years is like a nightmare, so terrible is his spiritual struggle. One day he feels himself an outcast; the next the companion of angels; the third he tries experiments with the Almighty in order to put his salvation to the proof. As he goes along the road to Bedford he thinks he will work a miracle, like Gideon with his fleece. He will say to the little puddles of water in the horses’ tracks, “Be ye dry”; and to all the dry tracks he will say, “Be ye puddles.” As he is about to perform the miracle a thought occurs to him. “But go first under yonder hedge and pray that the Lord will make you able to perform a miracle.” He goes promptly and prays. Then he is afraid of the test, and goes on his way more troubled than before.
After years of such struggle, chased about between heaven and hell, Bunyan at last emerges into a saner atmosphere, even as Pilgrim came out of the horrible Valley of the Shadow. Soon, led by his intense feelings, he becomes an open-air preacher, and crowds of laborers gather about him on the village green. They listen in silence to his words; they end in groans and tears; scores of them amend their sinful lives.--WILLIAM J. LONG, “English Literature.”
