Morning, February 25, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The wrath to come.” — Matthew 3:7

It is pleasant to pass through the country after a storm has spent itself; to smell the freshness of the foliage after the rain has passed away, and to note the drops while they glisten like purest diamonds in the sunlight. That is the position of a Christian. He is going through a land where the storm has spent itself upon his Savior’s head, and if there are still a few drops of sorrow falling, they form from clouds of mercy, and Jesus encourages him by the assurance that they are not for his destruction. But how terrible is it to witness the approach of a tornado: to note the forewarnings of the storm; to mark the birds of the sky as they droop their wings; to see the cattle as they lay their heads low in terror; to discern the face of the sky as it grows black, and look to the sun which ceases shining, and the skys which are angry and frowning! How terrible it is to await the dread advance of a hurricane—such as occurs, sometimes, in the tropics—to wait in terrible apprehension until the wind rushes forth in fury, tearing up trees from their roots, forcing rocks from their beds, and hurling down all the dwelling places of man! And yet, sinner, this is your present position. No hot drops have as yet fallen, but a shower of fire is coming. No terrible winds howl around you, but God’s tempest is gathering its dread artillery. As yet, the floodwaters are dammed up by mercy, but the floodgates shall soon be opened: the thunderbolts of God are yet in his storehouse, but look, the tempest hastens, and how awful shall be that moment when God, robed in vengeance, shall march forth in fury! Where, where, where, O sinner, will you hide your head, or where will you flee? O that the hand of mercy may now lead you to Christ! He is freely set before you in the gospel: his gashed side is the rock of shelter. You know your need of him; believe in him, cast yourself upon him, and then the fury shall be passed over forever.