Morning, January 21, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And so all Israel will be saved.” — Romans 11:26

When Moses sang at the Red Sea, it was his joy to know that all Israel were safe. Not a drop of spray fell from that solid wall until the last of God’s Israel had safely planted his foot on the other side the flood. That done, immediately the floods dissolved into their proper place again, but not till then. Part of that song was, “In Your lovingkindness You have led the people whom You have redeemed.” In the final times, when the elect shall sing the song of Moses, the servant of God, and of the Lamb, it shall be the boast of Jesus, “Of those whom You have given Me I lost not one.” In heaven there shall not be a vacant throne.

“For all the chosen race

Shall meet around the throne,

Shall bless the conduct of his grace,

And make his glories known.”

As many as God has chosen, as many as Christ has redeemed, as many as the Spirit has called, as many as believe in Jesus, shall safely cross the dividing sea. We are not all safely landed yet:

“Part of the host have crossed the flood,

And part are crossing now.”

The vanguard of the army has already reached the shore. We are marching through the depths; we are at this day following hard after our Leader into the heart of the sea. Let us be of good cheer: the rear-guard shall soon be where the vanguard already is; the last of the chosen ones shall soon have crossed the sea, and then the song of triumph shall be heard, when all are secure. But oh! If one were absent–Oh! If one of his chosen family should be cast away–it would make an everlasting discord in the song of the redeemed, and cut the strings of the harps of paradise, so that music could never be extracted from them.

Evening, January 20, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Turn away my eyes from looking at vanity, and revive me in Your ways.” — Psalm 119:37

There are different kinds of vanity. The cap and bells of the jester; the perverse mirth of the world; the dance, the music, and the drinking of the self-indulgent, all these men know to be vanity; they wear upon their forefront their proper name and title. Far more treacherous are those equally vain things, the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches. A man may follow vanity as truly in the stock exchange as in the concert hall. If he is spending his life in amassing wealth, he passes his days in a vain show. Unless we follow Christ, and make our God the great object of life, we only differ in appearance from the most frivolous. It is clear that there is much need of the first prayer of our text. “Revive me in your ways.” The Psalmist confesses that he is dull, heavy, lumpy, all but dead. Perhaps, dear reader, you feel the same. We are so sluggish that the best motives cannot enliven us, apart from the Lord himself. What! Will not hell stir me up? Shall I think of sinners perishing, and yet not be awakened? Will not heaven revive me? Can I think of the reward that awaits the righteous, and yet be cold? Will not death revitalize me? Can I think of dying, and standing before my God, and yet be idle in my Master’s service? Will not Christ’s love compel me? Can I think of his dear wounds, can I sit at the foot of his cross, and not be stirred with fervency and passion? It seems so! No mere consideration can stir us up to passion, but God himself must do it, hence the cry, “Enliven me.” The Psalmist breathes out his whole soul in passionate pleadings: his body and his soul unite in prayer. “Turn away my eyes,” says the body: “Make me alive,” cries the soul. This is a fit prayer for every day. O Lord, hear it in my case this night.

Morning, January 20, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Abel was a keeper of flocks.” — Genesis 4:2

As a shepherd Abel consecrated his work to the glory of God, and offered a sacrifice of blood upon his altar, and the Lord had respect for Abel and his offering. This early representation of our Lord is exceedingly clear and distinct. Like the first streak of light which tinges the east at sunrise, it does not reveal everything, but it clearly displays the great fact that the sun is coming. As we see Abel, a shepherd and yet a priest, offering a sweet-smelling sacrifice to God, we perceive our Lord, who brings before his Father a sacrifice to which Jehovah forever respects.

Abel was hated by his brother — hated without a cause — and even so was the Savior: the natural and self-centered man hated the accepted man in whom the Spirit of grace was found, and did not rest until his blood had been shed. Abel fell, and sprinkled his altar and sacrifice with his own blood, and so there sets forth the Lord Jesus slain by the enmity of man while serving as a priest before the Lord. “The good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.” Let us weep over him as we view him slain by the hatred of mankind, staining the horns of his altar with his own blood.

Abel’s blood speaks. “The Lord said, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to Me from the ground.'”  The blood of Jesus has a mighty voice, and the significance of its prevailing cry is not vengeance but mercy. It is precious beyond all else to stand at the altar of our good Shepherd, to see him bleeding there as the slaughtered priest, and then to hear his blood speaking peace to all his flock, peace in our conscience, peace between Jew and Gentile, peace between man and his offended Maker, peace all down the ages of eternity for blood-washed men! Abel is the first shepherd in order of time, but our hearts shall ever place Jesus first in order of excellence. You, great Keeper of the sheep, we the people of your pasture bless you with our whole hearts when we see you slain for us.

Evening, January 19, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Then He opened their minds to understand the Scriptures” — Luke 24:45

We viewed Him last evening opening Scripture; here we perceive Him opening the understanding. In the first work he has many fellow-laborers, but in the second he stands alone; many can bring the Scriptures to the mind, but the Lord alone can prepare the mind to receive the Scriptures. Our Lord Jesus differs from all other teachers; they reach the ear, but he instructs the heart; they deal with the outward letter, but he imparts an inward taste for the truth, by which we perceive its savor and spirit. The most unlearned of men become suitable scholars in the school of grace when the Lord Jesus by his Holy Spirit unfolds the mysteries of the kingdom to them, and grants the divine anointing by which they are enabled to behold the invisible. Happy are we if we have had our understanding cleared and strengthened by the Master! How many men of profound learning are ignorant of eternal things! They know the powerful letter of revelation, but its powerful spirit they cannot discern; they have a veil upon their hearts which the eyes of human reason cannot penetrate.

Such was our case not long ago; we who now see were once utterly blind; truth was to us as beauty in the darkness, a thing unnoticed and neglected. Had it not been for the love of Jesus we would have remained to this moment in utter ignorance, for without his gracious opening of our understanding, we could no more have attained to spiritual knowledge than an infant can climb the Pyramids, or an ostrich fly up to the stars. Jesus’ College is the only one in which God’s truth can be really learned; other schools may teach us what is to be believed, but Christ’s alone can show us how to believe it. Let us sit at the feet of Jesus, and by earnest prayer call in his blessed aid that our dull wits may grow brighter, and our feeble understanding may receive heavenly things.

Morning, January 19, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I sought him but did not find him.” — Song of Solomon 3:1

Tell me where you lost the company of Christ, and I will tell you the most likely place to find him. Have you lost Christ in your disciplines of prayer, by limiting prayer? Then it is there you must seek and find him. Did you lose Christ by sin? You will find Christ in no other way but by giving up the sin, and seeking by the Holy Spirit to put to death the area in which the lust dwells. Did you lose Christ by neglecting the Scriptures? You must find Christ in the Scriptures. It is a true proverb: “Look for a thing where you dropped it; it is there.” So, look for Christ where you lost him, for he has not gone away. But it is hard work to go back for Christ. Bunyan tells us that the pilgrim found the piece of the road back to the Arbor of Ease, where he lost his life-assuring scroll, the hardest he had ever travelled. Twenty miles onward is easier than to go one mile back for the lost authentication.

Take care, then, when you find your Master, to cling close to him. But how is it you have lost him? One would have thought you would never have parted with such a precious friend, whose presence is so dear, whose words are so comforting, and whose company is so cherished to you! How is it that you did not watch him every moment for fear of losing sight of him? Yet, since you have let him go, what a mercy is it that you are seeking him, even though you mournfully groan, “O that I knew where I might find him!” Go on seeking, for it is dangerous to be without your Lord. Without Christ you are like a sheep without its shepherd; like a tree without water at its roots; like a withered leaf in the tempest–not bound to the tree of life. With your whole heart seek him, and he will be found of you: only give yourself thoroughly up to the search, and certainly, you shall yet discover him to your joy and gladness.

Evening, January 18, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“He explained to them the things concerning Himself in all the Scriptures.” — Luke 24:27

The two disciples on the road to Emmaus had a most profitable journey. Their companion and teacher was the best of tutors; the interpreter –one of a thousand — in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. The Lord Jesus descended to become a preacher of the gospel, and he was not ashamed to exercise his calling before an audience of two persons; neither does he now refuse to become the teacher of even one. Let us court the company of so excellent an Instructor, for until he is made wisdom to us we shall never be wise to salvation.

This unrivalled tutor used as his textbook the best of books. Although able to reveal fresh truth, he preferred to illustrate the old. He knew by his omniscience what was the most instructive way of teaching, and by turning at once to Moses and the prophets, he showed us that the surest road to wisdom is not speculation, reasoning, or reading human books, but meditation upon the Word of God. The readiest way to be spiritually rich in heavenly knowledge is to dig in this mine of diamonds, to gather pearls from this heavenly sea. When Jesus himself sought to enrich others, he fashioned in the quarry of Holy Scripture.

The favored pair were led to consider the best of subjects, for Jesus spoke of Jesus, and explained the things concerning himself. Here the diamond cut the diamond, and what could be more admirable? The Master of the House unlocked his own doors, conducted the guests to his table, and placed his own desserts upon it. He who hid the treasure in the field himself guided the searchers to it. Our Lord would naturally converse upon the most precious of topics, and he could find none more precious than his own person and work. With an eye to these we should always search the Word. O for grace to study the Bible with Jesus as both our teacher and our lesson!

Morning, January 18, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“So there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God.” — Hebrews 4:9

How different will be the state of the believer in heaven from what it is here! Here he is born to labor and suffer weariness, but in the land of the immortal, fatigue is never known. Here, anxious to serve his Master, he finds his strength unequal to his passon; his constant cry is, “Help me to serve you, O my God.” If he is totally involved, he will have much labor; not too much for his will, but more than enough for his strength, so that he will cry out, “I am not weary of labor, but I am drained by it.” Ah! Christian, the hot day of weariness does not last forever; the sun is nearing the horizon; it shall rise again with a brighter day than you have ever seen upon a land where they serve God day and night, and yet rest from their labor. Here, rest is but partial, there, it is perfect. Here, the Christian is always unsettled; he feels that he has not yet attained. There, all are at rest; they have attained the summit of the mountain; they have ascended to the embrace of their God. They cannot go higher. Ah, work-worn laborer, only look forward to when you shall rest forever! Can you conceive of it? It is a rest eternal; a rest that “remains.” Here, my best joys display “mortal” on their forehead; my lovely flowers fade; my elegant cups are drained to dregs; my adorable birds fall before Death’s arrows; my most pleasant days are shadowed into nights; and the high tides of my happiness subside into ebbs of sorrow.

But there, everything is immortal; the harp abides unrusted, the crown uncorroded, the eye undimmed, the voice unfaltering, the heart unwavering, and the immortal being is wholly absorbed in infinite delight. Happy day! Happy, when mortality shall be swallowed up by life, and the Eternal Sabbath shall begin.

Evening, January 17, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Now when evening came David arose from his bed and walked around on the roof of the king’s house.” — 2 Samuel 11:2

At that hour David saw Bathsheba. We are never out of the reach of temptation. Both at home and abroad we are liable to meet with enticements to evil; the morning opens with peril, and the shadows of evening find us still in jeopardy. They are well kept whom God keeps, but woe to those who go forth into the world, or even dare to walk their own house unarmed. Those who think themselves secure are more exposed to danger than any others. The armor-bearer of Sin is Self-confidence.

David should have been engaged in fighting the Lord’s battles, but instead he tarried at Jerusalem, and gave himself up to luxurious relaxation, for he arose from his bed at evening. Idleness and luxury are the devil’s jackals, and find their master abundant prey. In stagnant waters noxious creatures swarm, and neglected soil soon yields a dense tangle of weeds and briars. Oh, for the constraining love of Jesus to keep us active and useful! When I see the King of Israel sluggishly leaving his couch at the close of the day, and falling at once into temptation, let me take warning, and set holy watchfulness to guard the door.

Is it possible that the king had mounted his housetop for retirement and devotion? If so, what a caution is given us to count no place, however secret, a sanctuary from sin! While our hearts are so like a tinderbox, and sparks so plentiful, we had need use all diligence in all places to prevent a blaze. Satan can climb housetops, and enter closets, and even if we could shut out that foul fiend, our own corruptions are enough to work our ruin unless grace prevents it. Reader, beware of evening temptations. Do not this yourself secure. The sun is down but sin is still up. We need a watchman for the night as well as a guardian for the day. O blessed Spirit, keep us from all evil this night. Amen.

Morning, January 17, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Then I looked, and behold, the Lamb was standing on Mount Zion.” -— Revelation 14:1

The apostle John was privileged to look within the gates of heaven, and in describing what he saw, he begins by saying, “I looked, and, behold, a Lamb!” This teaches us that the chief object of contemplation in the heavenly state is “the Lamb of God, which takes away the sins of the world.” Nothing else attracted the apostle’s attention so much as the person of that Divine Being, who has redeemed us by his blood. He is the theme of the songs of all spirits made glorious and all the holy angels.

Christian, here is great joy for you; you looked, and you have seen the Lamb. Through your tears your eyes have seen the Lamb of God taking away your sins. Rejoice, then. In a little while, when your eyes shall have been wiped from tears, you will see the same Lamb exalted on his throne. It is the joy of your heart to hold daily fellowship with Jesus; you will have the same joy to a higher degree in heaven; you shall enjoy the constant vision of his presence; you shall dwell with him forever. “I looked, and, behold, a Lamb!” Why, that Lamb is heaven itself; for as good Samuel Rutherford says, “Heaven and Christ are the same thing;” to be with Christ is to be in heaven, and to be in heaven is to be with Christ. That prisoner of the Lord very sweetly writes in one of his glowing letters–“O my Lord Jesus Christ, if I could be in heaven without thee, it would be a hell; and if I could be in hell, and have thee still, it would be a heaven to me, for thou art all the heaven I want.” It is true, is it not, Christian? Does not your soul say so?

“Not all the harps above

Can make a heavenly place,

If God his residence remove,

Or but conceal his face.”

All you need to make you blessed, supremely blessed, is “to be with Christ.”

Evening, January 16, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The Messiah will be cut off and have nothing.” — Daniel 9:26

Blessed be his name, there was no cause for death in him. Neither original nor actual sin had defiled him, and therefore death had no claim upon him. No man could have taken his life from him justly, for he had done no man wrong, and no man could even have slain him by force unless he had been pleased to yield himself to die. But look, one sins and another suffers. Justice was offended by us, but found its satisfaction in him. Rivers of tears, mountains of offerings, seas of the blood of bulls, and hills of frankincense, could not have availed for the removal of sin; but Jesus was cut off for us, and the cause of wrath was cut off at once, for sin was put away forever.

Here is wisdom, whereby substitution, the sure and speedy way of atonement, was devised!

Here is divinity descended, which brought Messiah, the Prince, to wear a crown of thorns, and die upon the cross!

Here is love, which led the Redeemer to lay down his life for his enemies!

It is not enough, however, to admire the spectacle of the innocent bleeding for the guilty, we must make sure of our investment there. The special objective of the Messiah’s death was the salvation of his church; do have we a part and a portion among those for whom he gave his life a ransom? Did the Lord Jesus stand as our representative? Are we healed by his stripes? It will be a terrible thing indeed if we should come short of a portion in his sacrifice; it would be better for us that we had never been born. Solemn as the question is, it is a joyful circumstance that it is one which may be answered clearly and without mistake. To all who believe on him the Lord Jesus is a present Savior, and upon them all the blood of reconciliation has been sprinkled. Let all who trust in the merit of Messiah’s death be joyful at every remembrance of him, and let their holy gratitude lead them to the fullest dedication to his cause.

Morning, January 16, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I will help you, declares the Lord.” — Isaiah 41:14

This morning let us hear the Lord Jesus speak to each one of us: “I will help you.”

“It is but a small thing for me, your God, to help you. Consider what I have done already. What! Not help you? Why, I bought you with my blood. What! Not help you? I have died for you; and if I have done the greater, will I not do the less? Help you! It is the least thing I will ever do for you; I have done more, and will do more. Before the world began I chose you. I made the covenant for you. I laid aside my glory and became a man for you; I gave up my life for you; and if I did all this, I will surely help you now. In helping you, I am giving you what I have bought for you already. If you had need of a thousand times as much help, I would give it you; you require little compared with what I am ready to give. It is much for you to need, but it is nothing for me to bequeath. Help you?’ Fear not! If there was an ant at the door of your storeroom asking for help, it would not ruin you to give him a handful of your wheat; and you are nothing but a tiny insect at the door of my all-encompassing sufficiency. I will help you.'”

O my soul, is not this enough? Do you need more strength than the omnipotence of the United Trinity? Do you want more wisdom than exists in the Father, more love than displays itself in the Son, or more power than is evidenced in the influences of the Spirit? Bring forward your empty pitcher! Surely this well will fill it. Hurry, gather up your wants, and bring them here– your emptiness, your distresses, your needs. Behold, this river of God is full for your supply; what can you desire beside? Go forth, my soul, in this your might. The Eternal God is your helper!

“Fear not, I am with thee, oh, be not dismay’d!

I, I am thy God, and will still give thee aid.”

Evening, January 15, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“But I am in prayer.” — Psalm 109:4

Lying tongues were busy against the reputation of David, but he did not defend himself; he moved the case into a higher court, and pleaded before the great King himself. Prayer is the safest method of replying to words of hatred. The Psalmist did not pray in a cold-hearted manner, but he gave himself to the exercise–threw his whole soul and heart into it–straining every sinew and muscle, as Jacob did when wrestling with the angel. Therefore, and therefore only, shall any of us make headway at the throne of grace. As a shadow has no power because there is no substance in it, even so an appeal in which a man’s focused self is not thoroughly present in agonizing sincerity and passionate desire, is utterly ineffective, for it lacks that which would give it force. “Fervent prayer,” says an old theologian, “like a cannon planted at the gates of heaven, makes them fly open.” The common fault with the most of us is our readiness to yield to distractions. Our thoughts go roving back and forth, and we make little progress towards our desired end. Like mercury our mind will not hold together, but rolls off this way and that. How great an evil this is! It injures us, and what is worse, it insults our God. What should we think of a petitioner, if, while having an audience with a prince, should be playing with a feather or catching a fly?

Continuance and perseverance are intended in the expression of our text. David did not cry once, and then relapse into silence; his holy clamor was continued till it brought down the blessing. Prayer must not be our chance work, but our daily business, our habit and vocation. As artists give themselves to their models, and poets to their classical pursuits, so must we addict ourselves to prayer. We must be as immersed in prayer as in our all else, and so pray without ceasing. Lord, teach us so to pray that we may be more and more effective in our requests.

Morning , January 15, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Do as you have spoken.” — 2 Samuel 7:25

God’s promises were never meant to be thrown aside as waste paper; he intended that they should be used. God’s gold is not hoarder’s money, but is minted to be traded with. Nothing pleases our Lord better than to see his promises put in circulation; he loves to see his children bring them up to him, and say, “Lord, do as you have spoken.” We glorify God when we claim his promises. Do you think that God will be any the poorer for giving you the riches he has promised? Do you dream that he will be any the less holy for giving holiness to you? Do you imagine he will be any the less pure for washing you from your sins? He has said “‘Come now, and let us reason together,’ Says the LORD, ‘Though your sins are as scarlet, They will be as white as snow; Though they are red like crimson, They will be like wool.'” Faith lays hold upon the promise of pardon, and it does not delay, saying, “This is a precious promise, I wonder if it is true?” but it goes straight to the throne with it, and pleads, “Lord, here is the promise, Do as you have spoken.'” Our Lord replies, ” It shall be done for you as you wish.” When a Christian grasps a promise, if he does not take it to God, he dishonors him; but when he hastens to the throne of grace, and cries, “Lord, I have nothing to recommend me but this, You have said it;'” then his desire shall be granted. Our heavenly Banker delights to cash his own notes. Never let the promise rust. Draw the sword of promise out of its scabbard, and use it with holy force. Do not think that God will be troubled by your tenacity in reminding him of his promises. He loves to hear the loud outcries of needy souls. It is his delight to bestow favors. He is more ready to hear than you are to ask. The sun is not weary of shining, nor the fountain of flowing. It is God’s nature to keep his promises; therefore go at once to the throne with “Do as you have spoken.”

Evening, January 14, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, Lord, save me.” — Matthew 14:30

Sinking times are praying times with the Lord’s servants. Peter neglected prayer when starting upon his adventurous journey, but when he began to sink his danger made him a eager petitioner, and his cry, though late, was not too late. In our hours of bodily pain and mental anguish, we find ourselves as naturally driven to prayer as a shipwreck is driven upon the shore by the waves. The fox hurries to its hole for protection; the bird flies to the forest for shelter; and even so the tried believer hastens to the mercy seat for safety. Heaven’s great harbor of refuge is prayer; thousands of weather-beaten vessels have found a haven there, and the moment a storm comes on, it is wise for us to make for it with full sail.

Short prayers are long enough. There were just three words in the petition which Peter gasped out, but they were sufficient for his purpose. Not length but strength is desirable. A sense of need is a mighty teacher of brevity. If our prayers had less of the tail feathers of pride and more wing they would be all the better. Verbiage is to devotion as chaff to the wheat. Precious things lie in small sizes, and all that is real prayer in many a long address might have been uttered in a petition as short as that of Peter.

Our adversities are the Lord’s opportunities. As immediately as a keen sense of danger forces an anxious cry from us, the ear of Jesus hears, and with him ear and heart go together, and his hand does not long linger. At the last moment we appeal to our Master, but his swift hand makes up for our delays by instant and effective action. Are we nearly engulfed by the tempestuous waters of affliction? Let us then lift up our souls to our Savior, and we may rest assured that he will not allow us to perish. When we can do nothing Jesus can do all things; let us enlist his powerful aid upon our side, and all will be well.

Morning, January 14, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Mighty to save.” — Isaiah 63:1

By the words “to save” we understand the whole of the great work of salvation, from the first holy desire onward to complete sanctification. The words are multum in parro (a great deal in a small space): indeed, here is all mercy in one word. Christ is not only “mighty to save” those who repent, but he is able to make men repent. He will carry those to heaven who believe; but he is, moreover, mighty to give men new hearts and to work faith in them. He is mighty to make the man who hates holiness love it, and to constrain those who despise his name to bend the knee before him. No, this is not all the meaning, for the divine power is equally seen in the after-work. The life of a believer is a series of miracles wrought by “the Mighty God.” The bush burns, but is not consumed. He is mighty to keep his people holy after he has made them so, and to preserve them in his fear and love until he consummates their spiritual existence in heaven. Christ’s might does not lie in making a believer and then leaving him to shift for himself; but he who begins the good work carries it on; he who imparts the first germ of life in the dead soul, prolongs the divine existence, and strengthens it until it bursts asunder every bond of sin, and the soul leaps from earth, perfected in glory. Believer, here is encouragement. Are you praying for some loved one? Oh, do not give up your prayers, for Christ is “mighty to save.” You are powerless to reclaim the rebel, but your Lord is Almighty. Lay hold on that mighty arm, and rouse it to put forth its strength. Does your own case trouble you? Fear not, for his strength is sufficient for you. Whether to begin with others, or to carry on the work in you, Jesus is “mighty to save,” the best proof of which lies in the fact that he has saved you. What a thousand mercies that you have not found him mighty to destroy!

Evening, January 13, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And when he showed him the place, he cut off a stick and threw it in there, and made the iron float.” —2 Kings 6:6

The axe-head seemed hopelessly lost, and as it was borrowed, the honor of the prophetic band was likely to be imperiled, and likewise the name of their God to be compromised. Contrary to all expectations, the iron was made to mount from the depth of the stream and to float, for things impossible with man are possible with God. I knew a man in Christ but a few years ago who was called to undertake a work far exceeding his strength. It appeared so difficult as to involve absurdity in the bare idea of attempting it. Yet he was called to do it, and his faith rose with the occasion; God honored his faith, unanticipated aid was sent, and the iron did float. Another of the Lord’s family was in grievous financial straits; he would be able to meet all claims, and much more if he could have realized a certain portion of his estate, but he was overtaken with sudden financial pressure.  He sought for friends in vain, but faith led him to the unfailing Helper, and behold, the trouble was averted, his footsteps were extended, and the iron did float. A third had a sorrowful case of depravity to deal with. He had taught, reproved, warned, invited, and interceded, but all in vain. Old Adam was too strong for young Melanchthon; the stubborn spirit would not relent. Then came an agonized time of prayer, and before long a blessed answer was sent from heaven. The hard heart was broken, the iron did float.

Beloved reader, what is your desperate case? What heavy matter do you have in hand this evening? Bring it near. The God of the prophets lives, and lives to help his believers. He will not allow you to lack any good thing. Believe in the Lord of hosts! Approach him pleading the name of Jesus, and the iron shall float; you too shall see the finger of God working marvels for his people. According to your faith may it be to you, and yet again the iron shall float.

Morning, January 13, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Jehoshaphat made ships of Tarshish to go to Ophir for gold, but they did not go for the ships were broken at Ezion-geber.” — 1 Kings 22:48

Solomon’s ships had returned in safety, but Jehoshaphat’s vessels never reached the land of gold. God in His foresight prospers one, and frustrates the desires of another, in the same business and at the same spot, yet the Great Ruler is as good and wise at one time as another. May we have grace today, in the remembrance of this text, to bless the Lord for ships broken at Ezion-geber, as well as for vessels laden with temporal blessings; let us not envy the more successful, nor mutter at our losses as though we were exceptionally and particularly tried. Like Jehoshaphat, we may be precious in the Lord’s sight, although our schemes end in disappointment.

The secret cause of Jehoshaphat’s loss is well worthy of notice, for it is the root of very much of the suffering of the Lord’s people; it was his alliance with a sinful family, his fellowship with sinners. In 2 Ch. 20:37, we are told that the Lord sent a prophet to declare, ” Because you have allied yourself with Ahaziah, the Lord has destroyed your works.” This was a fatherly chastisement, which appears to have been a blessing to him, for in the verse which succeeds our morning’s text we find him refusing to allow his servants to sail in the same vessels with those of the wicked king. Would to God that Jehoshaphat’s experience might be a warning to the rest of the Lord’s people, to avoid being unequally yoked together with unbelievers! A life of misery is usually the lot of those who are united in marriage, or in any other way of their own choosing, with those of the world. O for such love to Jesus that, like him, we may be holy, gentle, unpolluted, and separate from sinners; for if it is not so with us, we may expect to hear it often said, “The Lord has broken your works.”

Evening, January 12, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“There is yet more to be said in God’s behalf. — Job 36:2

We should not court publicity for our virtue, or notoriety for our passion; but, at the same time, it is a sin to be always seeking to hide that which God has bestowed upon us for the good of others. A Christian is not to be a village in a valley, but “a city set upon a hill.” He is not to be a candle under a bushel, but a candle in a candlestick, giving light to all. Retirement may be lovely in its season, and to hide one’s self is doubtless modest, but the hiding of Christ in us can never be justified, and keeping the our precious truth back is a sin against others and an offence against God.

If you are of a anxious temperament and of reticent disposition, take care that you do not indulge too much this trembling inclination, so as not to be useless to the church. Seek in the name of him who was not ashamed of you, to do some small brutality to your feelings, and tell to others what Christ has told to you. If you cannot speak with trumpeting tongue, use the still small voice. If the pulpit must not gain your audience, if the press may not carry on its wings your words, yet say with Peter and John, “Silver and gold have I none; but such as I have I give you.” By Sychar’s well talk to the Samaritan woman, if you cannot not preach a sermon on the mountain; utter the praises of Jesus in the house, if not in the temple; in the field, if not in the marketplace; in the midst of your own household, if you cannot not in the midst of the great family of man. From the hidden springs within let sweetly flowing rivulets of testimony flow forth, giving drink to every passerby. Do not hide your talent; make trades with it; and you shall bring in good interest to your Lord and Master. To speak for God will be refreshing to ourselves, cheering to believers, useful to sinners, and honoring to the Savior. Mute children are a burden to their parents. Lord, unloose all your children’s tongues.

Morning, January 12, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“You belong to Christ.” — 1 Corinthians 3:23

“You are Christ’s.” You are his by endowment, for the Father gave you to the Son; his by his bloody purchase, for he laid down the price for your redemption; his by dedication, for you have consecrated yourself to him; his by relation, for you are named by his name, and made one of his brethren and joint-heirs. Labor expediently to show the world that you are the servant, the friend, the bride of Jesus. When tempted to sin, reply, “I cannot do this great wickedness, for I am Christ’s.” Immortal principles forbid the friend of Christ to sin. When wealth is before you to be won by sinful practice, say that you are Christ’s, and touch it not. Are you exposed to difficulties and dangers? Stand firm in the evil day, remembering that you are Christ’s. Are you placed in work where others are sitting down idly, doing nothing? Rise to the work with all your powers; and when the sweat stands upon your brow, and you are tempted to loaf, cry, “No, I cannot stop, for I am Christ’s. If I were not purchased by blood, I might be like Issachar, hiding in the sheepfolds; but I am Christ’s, and cannot dawdle.” When the siren song of pleasure would tempt you from the path of right, reply, “Your music cannot charm me; I am Christ’s.” When the cause of God invites you, give your goods and yourself away, for thou are Christ’s. Never give the lie to your profession. Be always one of those whose manners are Christian, whose speech is like the Nazarene, whose conduct and conversation are so indicative of heaven, that all who see you may know that you are the Savior’s, recognizing in you his features of love and his countenance of holiness. The cry, “I am a Roman!” was of old a reason for integrity; far more, then, let it be your argument for holiness, “I am Christ’s!”

Evening, January 11, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I have prayed for you.” — Luke 22:32

How encouraging is the thought of the Redeemer’s unceasing intercession for us. When we pray, he pleads for us; and when we are not praying, he is advocating our cause, and by his appeals shielding us from unseen dangers. Notice the word of comfort addressed to Peter: ” Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has demanded permission to sift you like wheat; but”–what did say then? “But go and pray for yourself.” That would be good advice, but it is not so written. Neither does he say, “But I will keep you watchful, and so you shall be preserved.” That would be a great blessing. No, it is, “But I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail.”

We little know what we owe to our Savior’s prayers. When we reach the hilltops of heaven, and look back upon all the paths by which the Lord our God has led us, how we shall praise him who, before the eternal throne, undid the mischief which Satan was doing upon earth. How shall we thank him because he never held his peace, but day and night pointed to the wounds upon his hands, and carried our names upon his breastplate! Even before Satan had begun to tempt, Jesus had forestalled him and entered a plea in heaven. Mercy outruns malice. Note that he does not say, “Satan has desired to have you.” He checks Satan even in his very desire, and nips it in the bud. He does not say, “But I have desired to pray for you.” No, but “I have prayed for you: I have done it already; I have gone to court and entered a counterplea even before an accusation is made.” O Jesus, what a comfort it is that you have pleaded our cause against our unseen enemies; countermined their mines, and unmasked their ambushes. Here is a matter for joy, gratitude, hope, and confidence.

Morning, January 11, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“These have no firm root.” — Luke 8:13

My soul, examine yourself this morning by the light of this text. You have received the word with joy; your feelings have been moved and a stimulating impression has been made; but, remember, that to receive the word in the ear is one thing, and to receive Jesus into your very soul is quite another; superficial feeling is often joined to inward hardness of heart, and a stimulating impression of the word is not always a lasting one. In the parable, the seed in one case fell upon ground having a rocky bottom, covered over with a thin layer of earth; when the seed began to take root, its downward growth was hindered by the hard stone and therefore it spent its strength in pushing its green shoot aloft as high as it could, but having no inward moisture derived from root nourishment, it withered away.

Is this my case? Have I been making a fair show in my outward being without having a corresponding inner life? Good growth takes place upwards and downwards at the same time. Am I rooted in sincere fidelity and love to Jesus? If my heart remains unsoftened and unfertilized by grace, the good seed may germinate for a season, but it must ultimately wither, for it cannot flourish on a rocky, unbroken, unsanctified heart. Let me fear a godliness as rapid in growth and as wanting in endurance as Jonah’s plant; let me count the cost of being a follower of Jesus; above all let me feel the energy of his Holy Spirit, and then I shall possess an abiding and enduring seed in my soul. If my mind remains as stubborn as it was by nature, the sun of trial will scorch, and my hard heart will help to cast the heat even more terribly upon the ill-covered seed, and my religion will soon die, and my despair will be terrible; therefore, O heavenly Sower, plow me first, and then cast the truth into me, and let me yield to you a generous harvest.

Evening, January 10, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“From my flesh shall I see God.” — Job 19:26

Mark the subject of Job’s devout anticipation: “I shall see God.” He does not say, “I shall see the believers” — though doubtless that will be untold joyousness — but, “I shall see God.” It is not, “I shall see the pearly gates, I shall behold the walls of jasper, I shall gaze upon the crowns of gold,” but “I shall see God.” This is the sum and substance of heaven, this is the joyful hope of all believers. It is their delight to see him now in the ceremonies they observe by faith. They love to behold him in communion and in prayer; but there in heaven they shall have an open and unclouded vision, and therefore seeing “him as he is,” shall be made completely like him. Likeness to God–what can we wish for more? And a sight of God–what can we desire better?

Some read the passage, “Yet, I shall see God in my flesh,” and find here an allusion to Christ, as the “Word made flesh,” and that glorious beholding of him which shall be the splendor of the latter days. Whether so or not, it is certain that Christ shall be the object of our eternal vision; nor shall we ever want any joy beyond that of seeing him. Do not think that this will be a narrow sphere for the mind to dwell in. It is but one source of delight, but that source is infinite. All his attributes shall be subjects for contemplation, and as he is infinite under each aspect, there is no fear of exhaustion. His works, his gifts, his love to us, and his glory in all his purposes, and in all his actions — these shall make a theme which will be ever new. The patriarch looked forward to this sight of God as a personal enjoyment. “Whom mine eye shall behold, and not another.” Take realistic views of heaven’s bliss; think what it will be to you. “Your eyes shall see the King in his beauty.” All earthly brightness fades and darkens as we gaze upon it, but here is a brightness which can never dim, a glory which can never fade–“I shall see God.”

Morning, January 10, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“There is laid up for me the crown of righteousness.” — 2 Timothy 4:8

Doubting one! You have often said, “I fear I shall never enter heaven.” Fear not! All the people of God shall enter there. I love the quaint saying of a dying man, who exclaimed, “I have no fear of going home; I have sent all before me; God’s finger is on the latch of my door, and I am ready for him to enter.” “But,” said one, “are you not afraid that you should miss your inheritance?” “No,” said he, “No; there is one crown in heaven which the angel Gabriel could not wear; it will fit no head but mine. There is one throne in heaven which Paul the apostle could not fill; it was made for me, and I shall have it.” O Christian, what a joyous thought! Your portion is secure; “there remains a rest.”

“But cannot I forfeit it?” No, it is permanent. If I am a child of God I shall not lose it. It is mine as securely as if I were there. Come with me, believer, and let us sit upon the top of Nebo, and view the good land, even Canaan. Do you see that little river of death glistening in the sunlight, and across it do you see the pinnacles of the eternal city? Do you notice the pleasant country, and all its joyous inhabitants? Know, then, that if you could fly across you would see written upon one of its many mansions, “This remains for such a one; preserved for him only. He shall be caught up to dwell forever with God.” Poor doubting one, see the fair inheritance; it is yours. If you believe in the Lord Jesus, if you have repented of sin, if you have been renewed in heart, you are one of the Lord’s people, and there is a place reserved for you, a crown laid up for you, a place of praise especially provided for you. No one else shall have your portion, it is reserved in heaven for you, and you shall have it before long, for there shall be no vacant thrones in glory when all the chosen are gathered in.

Evening, January 9, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Serve the Lord with gladness.”—  Psalm 100:2

Enjoyment in divine service is a mark of acceptance. Those who serve God with a sad expression, because they do what is unpleasant to them, are not serving him at all; they bring the form of service, but the life is absent. Our God requires no slaves to grace his throne; he is the Lord of the empire of love, and would have his servants dressed in the attire of joy. The angels of God serve him with songs, not with moans; a mutter or a sigh would be a mutiny in their ranks. That obedience which is not voluntary is disobedience, for the Lord looks at the heart, and if he sees that we serve him from force, and not because we love him, he will reject our offering. Service coupled with cheerfulness is service from the heart, and therefore true. Take away joyful willingness from the Christian, and you have removed the test of his sincerity. If a man is driven to battle, he is no patriot; but he who marches into the fight with flashing eye and beaming face, singing, “It is sweet to die for one’s country,” proves himself to be sincere in his patriotism. Cheerfulness is the support of our strength; we are strong in the joy of the Lord. It acts as the remover of difficulties. It is to our service what oil is to the wheels of a railway carriage. Without oil the axle soon grows hot, and accidents occur; and if there is not a holy cheerfulness to oil our wheels, our spirits will be clogged with weariness. The man who is cheerful in his service of God, proves that obedience is his element; he can sing,

“Make me to walk in thy commands,

‘Tis a delightful road.”

Reader, let us put forth this question–do you serve the Lord with gladness? Let us show to the people of the world, who think our religion to be slavery, that it is to us a delight and a joy! Let our gladness proclaim that we serve a good Master.

Morning, January 9, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“I will be their God.” — Jeremiah 31:33

Christian! Here is all you can require. To make you happy you want something that shall satisfy you; and is not this enough? If you can pour this promise into your cup, will you not say, with David, “My cup runs over; I have more than a heart can wish”? When this is fulfilled, “I am your God”, are you not possessor of all things? Desire is insatiable as death, but he who fills all in all can fill it. Who can measure the capacity of our wishes? But the immeasurable wealth of God can more than overflow it. I ask you if you are not complete when God is yours? Do you want anything but God? Is his all-sufficiency not enough to satisfy you if all else should fail?

But you want more than quiet satisfaction; you desire joyful delight. Come, soul, here is music fit for heaven in this your portion, for God is the Maker of Heaven. Not all the music blown from melodious instruments, or drawn from living strings, can yield such melody as this precious promise, “I will be their God.” Here is a deep sea of enjoyment, a shoreless ocean of delight; come, bathe your spirit in it; swim an age, and you shall find no shore; dive throughout eternity, and you shall find no bottom. “I will be their God.” If this does not make your eyes sparkle, and your heart beat high with happiness, then assuredly your soul is not in a healthy state.

But you want more than present delights–you crave something concerning which you may exercise hope; and what more can you hope for than the fulfillment of this great promise, “I will be their God”? This is the masterpiece of all the promises; its enjoyment makes a heaven below, and will make a heaven above. Dwell in the light of your Lord, and let your soul be always overwhelmed with his love. Get out this rich meat which this portion yields you. Live up to your privileges, and rejoice with unspeakable joy.

Evening, January 8, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Your love is better than wine.” — Song of Solomon 1:2

Nothing gives the believer so much joy as fellowship with Christ. Yes, he has enjoyment as others have in the common benefits of life and he can be glad both in God’s gifts and God’s works; but in all these separately, indeed, and in all of them added together, he does not find such considerable delight as in the matchless person of his Lord Jesus. He has wine which no vineyard on earth ever yielded; he has bread which all the wheat fields of Egypt could never bring forth. Where can such pleasure be found as we have tasted in communion with our Beloved? In our estimation, the joys of earth are little better than husks for swine compared with Jesus, the heavenly manna. We would rather have one mouthful of Christ’s love, and a sip of his fellowship, than a whole world full of earthly delights. What is the chaff to the wheat? What is the sparkling crystal to the true diamond? What is a dream to the glorious reality? What is time’s enjoyment, in its best state, compared to our Lord Jesus in his most despised estate? If you know anything of the inner life, you will confess that our highest, purest, and most enduring joys must be the fruit of the tree of life which is in the midst of the Paradise of God. No spring yields such sweet water as that well of God which was dug with the soldier’s spear. All earthly bliss is of the earth earthy, but the comforts of Christ’s presence are like himself, heavenly. We can review our communion with Jesus, and find no regrets of emptiness therein; there are no dregs in this wine, no dead flies in this ointment. The joy of the Lord is solid and enduring. Vanity has not looked upon it, but discretion and prudence testify that it abides the test of years, and is in time and in eternity worthy to be called “the only true delight.” For nourishment, comfort, exhilaration, and refreshment, no wine can rival the love of Jesus. Let us drink to the full this evening.

Morning, January 8, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The iniquity of the holy things.” — Exodus 28:38

What a veil is lifted by these words, and what a disclosure is made! It will be humbling and profitable for us to pause awhile and see this sad sight. The iniquity of our public worship, its hypocrisy, formality, lukewarmness, irreverence, wandering of heart and forgetfulness of God… what a full measure we have there! Our work for the Lord, its impersonation, selfishness, carelessness, slackness, unbelief, what a mass of defilement is there! Our private devotions, their laxity, coldness, neglect, sleepiness, and vanity, what a mountain of dead earth is there! If we looked more carefully we should find this iniquity to be far greater than appears at first sight. Dr. Edward Payson, writing to his brother, says, “My parish, as well as my heart, very much resembles the garden of the sluggard; and what is worse, I find that very many of my desires for the improvement of both, proceed either from pride or vanity or indolence. I look at the weeds which spread over my garden, and breathe out an earnest wish that they were eradicated. But why? What prompts the wish? It may be that I may walk out and say to myself, In what fine order is my garden kept!’ This is pride. Or, it may be that my neighbors may look over the wall and say, How finely your garden flourishes!’ This is vanity. Or I may wish for the destruction of the weeds, because I am weary of pulling them up. This is indolance.” So that even our desires after holiness may be polluted by ill motives. Under the greenest sod worms hide themselves; we do not need to look long to discover them. How encouraging is the thought, that when the High Priest bore the iniquity of the holy things he wore upon his forehead the words, “Holiness to the Lord:” and even so while Jesus bears our sin, he presents before his Father’s face not our unholiness, but his own holiness. O for grace to view our great High Priest by the eye of faith!

Evening, January 7, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“My sister, my bride.” — Song of Solomon 4:12

Observe the endearing titles with which the heavenly Solomon  — with intense affection —  addresses his bride the church. “My sister, one near to me by ties of nature, sharer of the same sympathies. My bride, nearest and dearest, united to me by the tender bands of love; my sweet companion, part of my own self. My sister, by my Incarnation, which makes me bone of your bone and flesh of your flesh; my spouse, by heavenly marriage contract, in which I have betrothed you to  myself in righteousness. My sister, whom I knew of old, and over whom I watched from her earliest infancy; my spouse, taken from among the daughters, embraced by arms of love, and engaged to me forever. See how true it is that our royal Kinsman is not ashamed of us, for he dwells with obvious delight upon this two-fold relationship. We have the word “my” twice in our version; as if Christ dwelt with ecstasy on his possession of his Church. “His delights were with the sons of men,” because those sons of men were his own chosen ones. He, the Shepherd, sought the sheep, because they were his sheep; he has gone about “to seek and to save that which was lost,” because that which was lost was his long before it was lost to itself or lost to him. The church is the exclusive possession of her Lord; none else may claim a partnership, or pretend to share her love. Jesus, your church delights to have it so! Let every believing soul drink comfort out of these wells. Soul! Christ is near to you in ties of relationship; Christ is dear to you in bonds of marriage union, and you are dear to him; behold he grasps both of your hands with both his own, saying, “My sister, my bride.” Mark the two sacred grips by which your Lord gets such a double hold of you that he neither can nor will ever let you go. Do not be slow, O beloved, to return the consecrated flame of his love.

Morning, January 7, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.”  — Philippians 1:21

The believer did not always live for Christ. He began to do so when God the Holy Spirit convinced him of sin, and when by grace he was brought to see the dying Savior making a substitution for his guilt. From the moment of the new and celestial birth the man begins to live for Christ. Jesus is to believers the one pearl of great price, for whom we are willing to part with all that we have. He has so completely won our love, that it beats alone for him; to his glory we would live, and in defense of his gospel we would die; he is the pattern of our life, and the model after which we would sculpt our character. Paul’s words mean more than most men think; they imply that the aim and end of his life was Christ, but indeed, his life itself was Jesus. In the words of an ancient saint, he did eat, and drink, and sleep eternal life. Jesus was his very breath, the soul of his soul, the heart of his heart, the life of his life. Can you say, as a professing Christian, that you live up to this idea? Can you honestly say that for you to live is Christ? Your business — are you doing it for Christ? Is it not done for self-aggrandizement and for your family’s advantage? Do you ask, “Is that a poor reason?” For the Christian it is. He professes to live for Christ; how can he live for another object without committing spiritual adultery?

There are many  who carry out this principle in some measure; but who is there that dare say that he has lived wholly for Christ as the apostle did? Yet, this alone is the true life of a Christian — its source, its sustenance, its method, its end, all gathered up in one word — Christ Jesus. Lord, accept me; I here present myself, praying to live only in you and for you. Let me be as the bull which stands between the plow and the altar, to work or to be sacrificed; and let my motto be, “Ready for either.”

Evening, January 6, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Now the hand of the Lord had been upon me in the evening.” — Ezekiel 33:22

This may be the way judgment is revealed, and, if so, it is up to me to consider the reason of such a visitation, and endure the rod and him that has appointed it. I am not the only one who is chastened in the night season; let me cheerfully submit to the affliction, and carefully endeavor to be profited by it. But the hand of the Lord may also be felt in another manner, strengthening the soul and lifting the spirit upward towards eternal things. O that in this sense I may feel the Lord dealing with me! A sense of the divine presence and indwelling bears the soul towards heaven as upon the wings of eagles. At such times we are full to the brim with spiritual joy, and forget the cares and sorrows of earth; the invisible is near, and the visible loses its power over us; the servant, our body waits at the foot of the hill, and the master, our spirit worships upon the summit in the presence of the Lord. O that a consecrated season of divine communion may be granted to me this evening! The Lord knows that I need it very greatly. My graces weaken, my corruptions rage, my faith is weak, my devotion is cold; all these are reasons why his healing hand should be laid upon me. His hand can cool the heat of my burning brow, and stay the tumult of my fluttering heart. That glorious right hand which molded the world can newly create my mind; the unwearied hand which bears the earth’s huge pillars up can sustain my spirit; the loving hand which encloses all the saints can cherish me; and the mighty hand which breaks the enemy in pieces can subdue my sins. Why should I not feel that hand touching me this evening? Come, my soul, address your God with the powerful plea, that Jesus’ hands were pierced for your redemption, and you shalt surely feel that same hand upon you which once touched Daniel and set him upon his knees that he might see visions of God.

Morning, January 6, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” — 1 Peter 5:7

It is a happy way of soothing sorrow when we can feel–“HE cares for me.” Christian! Do not dishonor religion by always wearing a furrowed brow; come, cast your burden upon your Lord. You are staggering beneath a weight which your Father would not feel. What seems to you a crushing burden, would be to him but as small dust in the balance. Nothing is so sweet as to,

“Lie passive in God’s hands,

And know no will but his.”

O child of suffering, be patient; God has not passed you over in his foreseeing care. He who is the feeder of sparrows, will also furnish you with what you need. Do not sit not in despair; hope on, hope forever. Take up the weapon of faith against a sea of trouble, and your opposition shall end your distresses. There is One who cares for you. His eye is fixed on you, his heart beats with pity for your misery, and his hand omnipotent shall yet bring you the needed help. The darkest cloud shall scatter itself in showers of mercy. The blackest gloom shall give place to the morning. He, if you are one of his family, will bind up your wounds, and heal your broken heart. Do not doubt his grace because of your tribulation, but believe that he loves you as much in seasons of trouble as in times of happiness. What a serene and quiet life might you lead if you would leave providing to the God of providence! With a little oil in the jar, and a handful of grain in the barrel, Elijah outlived the famine, and you will do the same. If God cares for you, why do  you need to care too? Can you trust him for your soul, and not for your body? He has never refused to bear your burdens, he has never fainted under their weight. Come, then, soul! Put away all anxious care, and leave all your concerns in the hand of a gracious God.

Evening, January 5, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“God saw that the light was good.” — Genesis 1:4

This morning we noticed the goodness of the light, and the Lord’s dividing it from the darkness; we now note the special eye which the Lord had for the light. “God saw the light”–he looked at it with contentment, gazed upon it with pleasure, saw that it “was good.” If the Lord has given you light, dear reader, he looks on that light with special interest; for not only is it dear to him as his own handiwork, but because it is like himself, for “He is light.” It is comforting to the believer to know that God’s eye is accordingly tenderly observant of that work of grace which he has begun. He never loses sight of the treasure which he has placed in our earthen vessels. Sometimes we cannot see the light, but God always sees the light, and that is much better than our seeing it. Better for the judge to see my innocence than for me to think I see it. It is very comfortable for me to know that I am one of God’s people–but whether I know it or not, if the Lord knows it, I am still safe. This is the foundation, “The Lord knows them that are his.” You may be sighing and groaning because of ingrained sin, and mourning over your darkness, yet the Lord sees “light” in your heart, for he has put it there, and all the cloudiness and gloom of your soul cannot conceal your light from his gracious eye. You may have sunk low in depression, and even despair; but if your soul has any longing towards Christ, and if you are seeking to rest in his finished work, God sees the “light.” He not only sees it, but he also preserves it in you. “I, the Lord, do keep it.” This is a precious thought to those who, after anxious watching and guarding of themselves, feel their own powerlessness to do so. The light thus preserved by his grace, he will one day develop into the splendor of noonday, and the fullness of glory. The light within is the dawn of the eternal day.

Morning, January 5, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness.” — Genesis 1:4

Light might well be good since it sprang from that order of goodness, “Let there be light.” We who enjoy it should be more grateful for it than we are, and see more of God in it and by it. Physical light is said by Solomon to be sweet, but the light of the gospel is infinitely more precious, for it reveals eternal things, and ministers to our immortal natures. When the Holy Spirit gives us spiritual light, and opens our eyes to behold the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ, we behold sin in its true colors, and ourselves in our real position; we see the Most Holy God as he reveals himself, the plan of mercy as he advocates it, and the world to come as the Word describes it. Spiritual light has many beams and prismatic colors, but whether they are knowledge, joy, holiness, or life, all are divinely good. If the light received is therefore good, what must the essential light be, and how glorious must be the place where he reveals himself. O Lord, since light is so good, give us more of it, and more of yourself, the true light.

No sooner is there a good thing in the world, than a division is necessary. Light and darkness have no communion; God has divided them, let us not confuse them. Sons of light must not have fellowship with deeds, doctrines, or the deceit of darkness. The children of the day must be sober, honest, and bold in their Lord’s work, leaving the works of darkness to those who shall dwell in it forever. Our Churches should by discipline divide the light from the darkness, and we should by our distinct separation from the world do the same. In judgment, in action, in hearing, in teaching, in association, we must discern between the precious and the vile, and maintain the great distinction which the Lord made upon the world’s first day. O Lord Jesus, be our light throughout the whole of this day, for your light is the light of men.

Evening, January 4, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“But Joseph had recognized his brothers, although they did not recognize him.” — Genesis 42:8

This morning our desires for growth in our acquaintance with the Lord Jesus were discussed and encouraged;  it may be well tonight to consider a associated topic, namely, our heavenly Joseph’s knowledge of us. This was perfected and blessed long before we had the slightest knowledge of him. “Your eyes have seen my unformed substance; and in Your book were all written the days that were ordained for me, when as yet there was not one of them.” Before we had a presence in the world we had a presence in his heart. When we were enemies to him, he knew us, our misery, our madness, and our wickedness. When we wept bitterly in despairing repentance, and viewed him only as a judge and a ruler, he viewed us as his brethren well beloved, and his inward being yearned for us. He never mistook his chosen, but always beheld them as objects of his infinite affection. “The Lord knows those that are his,” is as true of the prodigals who are feeding swine as of the children who sit at the table.

But, alas! We did not know  our royal Brother, and out of this ignorance grew a host of sins. We withheld our hearts from him, and allowed him no entrance to our love. We mistrusted him, and gave no credit to his words. We rebelled against him, and paid him no loving reverence. The Sun of Righteousness shone forth, and we could not see him. Heaven came down to earth, and earth did not perceive it. Let God be praised, those days are over with us; yet even now it is very little that we know of Jesus compared with what he knows of us. We have only begun to study him, but he knows us altogether. It is a blessed circumstance that the ignorance is not on his side, for then it would be a hopeless case for us. He will not say to us, “I never knew you,” but he will confess our names in the day of his appearing, and meanwhile will manifest himself to us in a way he does not to the world.

Morning, January 4, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” — 2 Peter 3:18

“Grow in grace”–not in one grace only, but in all grace. Grow in that root grace, faith. Believe the promises more firmly than you have done. Let faith increase in fullness, steadfastness, simplicity. Grow also in love. Ask that your love may become extended, more intense, more practical, influencing every thought, word, and deed. Grow likewise in humility. Seek to lie very low, and know more of your own nothingness. As you grow downward in humility, seek also to grow upward–having nearer approaches to God in prayer and more intimate fellowship with Jesus. May God the Holy Spirit enable you to “grow in the knowledge of our Lord and Savior.” He who does not grow in the knowledge of Jesus, refuses to be blessed. To know him is “life eternal,” and to advance in the knowledge of him is to increase in happiness. He who does not long to know more of Christ, knows nothing of him yet. Whoever has sipped this wine will thirst for more, for although Christ does satisfy, it is such a satisfaction, that the appetite is not satiated, but sharpened. If you know the love of Jesus–as the hart pants for the water-brooks, so will you pant after deeper mouthfuls of his love. If you do not desire to know him better, then you do not love him, for love always cries, “Nearer, nearer.” Absence from Christ is hell; but the presence of Jesus is heaven. Do not rest, then, content without an increasing acquaintance with Jesus. Seek to know more of him in his divine nature, in his human relationship, in his finished work, in his death, in his resurrection, in his present glorious intercession, and in his future royal return. Abide firm by the Cross, and search the mystery of his wounds. An increase of love to Jesus, and a more perfect apprehension of his love to us is one of the best tests of growth in grace.

Evening, January 3, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The voice of one crying in the wilderness, ‘make ready the way of the Lord, make His paths straight’” — Luke 3:4

The voice crying in the wilderness demanded a way for the Lord, a way prepared, and a way prepared in the wilderness. I would be attentive to the Master’s proclamation, and give him a road into my heart, cast up by gracious operations, through the desert of my nature. The four directions in the text must have my serious attention.

Every valley must be exalted. Low and unworthy thoughts of God must be given up; doubting and despair must be removed; and self-seeking and worldly delights must be forsaken. Across these deep valleys a glorious causeway of grace must be raised.

Every mountain and hill shall be laid low. Proud self-sufficiency, and boastful self-righteousness, must be levelled, to make a highway for the King of kings. Divine fellowship is never bestowed to self-important, self-exalting sinners. The Lord has respect to the lowly, and visits the contrite in heart, but the lofty are an abomination to him. My soul, entreat the Holy Spirit to set you right in this respect.

The crooked shall be made straight. The wavering heart must have a straight path of decision for God and holiness marked out for it. Double-minded men are strangers to the God of truth. My soul, take heed that you shall be in all things honest and true, as in the sight of the heart-searching God.

The rough places shall be made smooth. Stumbling blocks of sin must be removed, and thorns and briers of rebellion must be uprooted. So great a visitor must not find marshy ways and stony places when he comes to honor his favored ones with his company. Oh that this evening the Lord may find in my heart a highway made ready by his grace, that he may make a triumphal progress through the utmost bounds of my soul, from the beginning of this year even to the end of it.

Morning, January 3, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And I will keep You and give You for a covenant of the people.” — Isaiah 49:8

Jesus Christ is himself the sum and substance of the covenant, and he is one of its gifts. He is the property of every believer. Believer, can you estimate what you have received in Christ? “In him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily.” Consider that word “God” and its infinity, and then meditate upon “perfect man” and all his beauty; for all that Christ, as God and man, ever had, or can have, is yours–out of pure free favor, passed over to you to be your permanent property forever.

Our blessed Jesus, as God, is omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent. Will it not comfort you to know that all these great and glorious attributes are altogether yours?

Has he power? That power is yours to support and strengthen you, to overcome your enemies, and to preserve you even to the end.

Has he love? Well, there is not a drop of love in his heart which is not yours; you may dive into the immense ocean of his love, and you may say of it all, “It is mine.”

Has he justice? It may seem a stern attribute, but even that is yours, for he will by his justice see to it that all which is promised to you in the covenant of grace shall be most certainly secured to you. And all that he has as a perfect man is yours. As a perfect man the Father’s delight was upon him. He stood accepted by the Most High. O believer, God’s acceptance of Christ is your acceptance; for do you not know that the love which the Father set on a perfect Christ, he sets on you now? For all that Christ did is yours. That perfect righteousness which Jesus fashioned out, when through his spotless life he kept the law and made it honorable, is yours, and is counted to you. Christ is in the covenant.

“My God, I am thine–what a comfort divine!

What a blessing to know that the Saviour is mine!

In the heavenly Lamb thrice happy I am,

And my heart it doth dance at the sound of his name.”

Evening, January 2, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And let the peoples gain new strength.” — Isaiah 41:1

All things on earth need to be renewed. No created thing continues by itself. “You renew the face of the ground,” was the Psalmist’s statement. Even the trees, which do not wear themselves down with care, nor shorten their lives with labor, must drink of the rain of heaven and draw from the hidden treasures of the soil. The cedars of Lebanon, which God has planted, only live because day by day they are full of sap drawn fresh from the earth. Neither can man’s life be sustained without renewal from God. Just as it is necessary to repair the decline of the body by the frequent meal, so we must repair the decline of the soul by feeding upon the Book of God, or by listening to the preached Word, or by the soul-enriching table of ceremonies and practices. How depressed are our graces when spiritual methods are neglected! How some believers starve who live without the diligent use of the Word of God and private prayer! If our piety can live without God it is not of divine origin; it is but a dream; for if God had birthed it, it would wait upon him as the flowers wait upon the dew. Without constant restoration we are not ready for the perpetual assaults of hell, or the stern afflictions of heaven, or even for the strife within. When the whirlwind comes, woe to the tree that has not drawn  up fresh sap, and grasped the rock with many intertwined roots. When tempests arise, woe to the mariners that have not strengthened their mast, nor cast their anchor, nor sought the haven. If we allow the good to grow weaker, the evil will surely gather strength and struggle desperately for mastery over us; and so, perhaps, a painful desolation, and a regrettable disgrace may follow. Let us draw near to the footstool of divine mercy in humble request, and we shall realize the fulfillment of the promise, “They that wait on the Lord shall renew their strength.”

Morning, January 2, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Devote yourselves to prayer.” — Colossians 4:2

It is interesting to note how large a portion of the Sacred Bible is occupied with the subject of prayer, either in furnishing examples, enforcing precepts, or pronouncing promises. We scarcely open the Bible before we read, “Then men began to call upon the name of the Lord;” and just as we are about to close the volume, the “Amen” of an earnest plea meets our ear. Examples are plentiful. Here we find a wrestling Jacob–there a Daniel who prayed three times a day–and a David who with all his heart called upon his God. On the mountain we see Elijah; in the dungeon Paul and Silas. We have multitudes of commands, and myriads of promises. What does this teach us, but the sacred importance and necessity of prayer? We may be certain that whatever God has made prominent in his Word, he intended to be conspicuous in our lives. If he has said much about prayer, it is because he knows we have much need of it. So deep are our necessities, that until we are in heaven we must not cease to pray. Do you want nothing? Then, I fear you do not know your poverty. Do you have no mercy to ask of God? Then, may the Lord’s mercy show you your misery! A prayerless soul is a Christless soul. Prayer is the whispering of the believing infant, the shout of the fighting believer, the requiem of the dying believer falling asleep in Jesus. It is the breath, the motto, the comfort, the strength, the honor of a Christian. If you are a child of God, you will seek thy Father’s face, and live in your Father’s love. Pray that this year you may be holy, humble, zealous, and patient; have closer communion with Christ, and enter more often into the banqueting house of his love. Pray that you may be an example and a blessing to others, and that you may live more to the glory of your Master. The motto for this year must be, “Continue in prayer.”

Evening, January 1, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“We will rejoice in you and be glad.” –Song of Solomon 1:4

We will be glad and rejoice in you. We will not open the gates of the year to the mournful notes of the trombone, but to the sweet strains of the harps of joy, and the high sounding cymbals of gladness. “O come, let us sing for joy to the Lord, Let us shout joyfully to the rock of our salvation.” We, the called and faithful and chosen, we will drive away our grief, and set up our banners of confidence in the name of God. Let others lament over their trouble; we who have the sweetening tree to cast into Marah’s bitter pool, will magnify the Lord with joy. Eternal Spirit, our valuable Comforter, we — who are the temples in which you dwell — will never cease from adoring and blessing the name of Jesus. We will; we are resolved about it.

Jesus must have the crown of our heart’s delight; we will not dishonor our Bridegroom by mourning in his presence. We are ordained to be the minstrels of the skies; let us rehearse our everlasting anthem before we sing it in the halls of the New Jerusalem. We will be glad and rejoice: two words with one sense, double joy, blessedness upon blessedness. Does there need to be any limit to our rejoicing in the Lord even now? Do not men of grace find their Lord to be camphor and spikenard, sweet flag and cinnamon even now? And what better fragrance will they have in heaven itself? We will be glad and rejoice in you. That last word is the meat in the dish, the kernel of the nut, the soul of the text. What heavens are laid up in Jesus! What rivers of infinite happiness have their source, yes, and every drop of their fullness in him! Since, O sweet Lord Jesus, you are the present portion of your people, favor us this year with such a sense of your preciousness, that from its first to its last day we may be glad and rejoice in you. Let January open with joy in the Lord, and December close with gladness in Jesus.

Morning, January 1, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“They ate some of the yield of the land of Canaan during that year. ” — Joshua 5:12

Israel’s weary wanderings were all over, and the promised rest was attained. No more moving tents, fiery serpents, fierce Amalekites, and howling wildernesses: they came to the land which flowed with milk and honey, and they ate the produce of the land. Perhaps this year, beloved Christian reader, this may be your case or mine. The prospect is joyful, and if we are active exercising faith, it will yield unadulterated delight. To be with Jesus in the rest which remains for the people of God, is a cheering hope indeed, and to expect this glory so soon is a double blessing. Unbelief shudders at the Jordan which still rolls between us and the fair land, but let us rest assured that we have already experienced more ills than death at its worst can cause us. Let us banish every fearful thought, and rejoice with exceeding great joy, in the prospect that this year we shall begin to be “forever with the Lord.”

A part of the host of believers will this year linger on earth, to do service for their Lord. If this should fall to our lot, there is no reason why the New Year’s text should not still be true. “We who have believed enter that rest.” The Holy Spirit is the down payment of our inheritance; he gives us “glory begun below.” In heaven they are secure, and so are we preserved in Christ Jesus; there they triumph over their enemies, and we have victories too. Celestial spirits enjoy communion with their Lord, and this is not denied to us; they rest in his love, and we have perfect peace in him: they sing hymns to his praise, and it is our privilege to bless him too. We will this year gather celestial fruits on earthly ground, where faith and hope have made the desert like the garden of the Lord. Man did eat angels’ food of old, and why not now? O for grace to feed on Jesus, and so to eat of the fruit of the land of Canaan this year!

Evening, December 31, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Harvest is past, summer is ended, and we are not saved.” — Jeremiah 8:20

Not saved! Dear reader, is this your mournful plight? Warned of the judgment to come, encouraged to escape for your life, and yet at this moment not saved! You know the way of salvation, you read it in the Bible, you hear it from the pulpit, it is explained to you by friends, and yet you neglect it, and therefore you are not saved. You will be without excuse when the Lord shall judge the living and the dead. The Holy Spirit has given more or less of blessing upon the word which has been preached in your hearing, and times of refreshing have come from the divine presence, and yet you are without Christ. All these hopeful seasons have come and gone–your summer and your harvest have past–and yet you are not saved. Years have followed one another into eternity, and your last year will soon be here: youth has gone, manhood is going, and yet you are not saved.

Let me ask you–will you ever be saved? Is there any likelihood of it? Already the most favorable seasons have left you unsaved; will other occasions alter your condition? Methods have failed with you–the best of methods, used with perseverence and with the utmost affection–what more can be done for you? Affliction and prosperity have alike failed to impress you; tears and prayers and sermons have been wasted on your barren heart. Are not the probabilities dead against your ever being saved? Is it not more than likely that you will abide as you are until death forever bars the door of hope? Do you recoil from the supposition? Yet it is a most reasonable one: he who is not washed in so many seasons of waters will in all probability go filthy to his end. The convenient time never has come, why should it ever come? It is logical to fear that it never will arrive, and that like Felix, you will find no convenient season until you are in hell. O what do you think of what that hell is, and of the dread probability that you will soon be cast into it!

Reader, suppose you should die unsaved; your doom no words can picture. Write out your dread estate in tears and blood, talk of it with groans and gnashing of teeth: you will be punished with everlasting destruction from the glory of the Lord, and from the glory of his power. A brother’s voice would willingly startle you into earnestness. O be wise, be wise in time, and before another year begins, believe in Jesus, who is able to save to the uttermost. Consecrate these last hours to lonely thought, and if deep repentance is birthed in you, it will be well; and if it lead to a humble faith in Jesus, it will be best of all. O see to it that this year pass not away, leaving you an unforgiven spirit. Do not let the new year’s midnight peals sound upon a joyless spirit! Now, now, NOW, believe, and live.

Morning, December 31, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Now on the last day, the great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, ‘If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink.’” — John 7:37

Patience had her perfect work in the Lord Jesus, and until the last day of the feast he pleaded with the Jews, even as on this last day of the year he pleads with us, and waits to be gracious to us. Admirable indeed is the longsuffering of the Savior in bearing with some of us year after year, notwithstanding our aggravations, rebellion, and resistance to his Holy Spirit. Wonder of wonders that we are still in the land of mercy!

Pity expressed herself most plainly, for Jesus cried, which implies not only the loudness of his voice, but the tenderness of his tones. He implores us to be reconciled. “We pray you be reconciled to God,” says the Apostle, “as though God did beseech you by us.” What earnest, moving terms are these! How deep must be the love which makes the Lord weep over sinners, and like a mother woo his children to his embrace! Surely at the call of such a cry our willing hearts will come.

Provision is made most abundantly; all is provided that man can need to quench his soul’s thirst. To his conscience the atonement brings peace; to his understanding the gospel brings the richest instruction; to his heart the person of Jesus is the noblest object of affection; to the whole man the truth as it is in Jesus supplies the purest nutriment. Thirst is terrible, but Jesus can remove it. Though the soul were utterly famished, Jesus could restore it.

Proclamation is made most freely, that every thirsty one is welcome. No other distinction is made but that of thirst. Whether it is the thirst of materialism, ambition, pleasure, knowledge, or rest, he who suffers from it is invited. The thirst may be bad in itself, and be no sign of grace, but rather a mark of excessive sin longing to be gratified with deeper mouthfuls of lust; but it is not goodness in the creature which brings him the invitation, the Lord Jesus sends it freely, and without respect of persons.

The person of Christ is declared most fully as the focus. The sinner must come to Jesus, not to works, ordinances, or doctrines, but to a personal Redeemer, who his own self bore our sins in his own body on the tree. The bleeding, dying, rising Savior, is the only star of hope to a sinner. Oh for grace to come now and drink, before the sun sets upon the year’s last day!

No waiting or preparation is so much as hinted at. Drinking represents a reception for which no fitness is required. A fool, a thief, an adulterer can drink; and so sinfulness of character is no bar to the invitation to believe in Jesus. We want no golden cup, no bejeweled chalice, in which to convey the water to the thirsty; the mouth of poverty is welcome to stoop down and guzzle the flowing flood. Blistered, infected, filthy lips may touch the stream of divine love; they cannot pollute it, but shall themselves be purified. Jesus is the fountain of hope. Dear reader, hear the dear Redeemer’s loving voice as he cries to each of us,

“IF ANYONE IS THIRSTY, LET HIM COME TO ME AND DRINK.”

Evening, December 30, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Don’t you realize that this will end in bitterness?” —  2 Samuel 2:26

If, O my reader, you are merely a professor, and not a possessor of the faith that is in Christ Jesus, the following lines are a true picture of your end.

You are a respectable attendant at a place of worship; you go because others go, not because your heart is right with God. This is your beginning. I will suppose that for the next twenty or thirty years you will be spared to go on as you do now, professing religion by an outward attendance upon the methods of grace, but having no heart in the matter. Tread softly, for I must show you the deathbed of such a one as yourself. Let us gaze upon him gently. A clammy sweat is on his brow, and he wakes up crying, “O God, it is hard to die. Did you send for my minister?”

“Yes, he is coming.” The minister comes.

“Sir, I fear that I am dying!”

“Have you any hope?”

“I cannot say that I have. I fear to stand before my God; oh, pray for me!”

The prayer is offered for him with sincere earnestness, and the way of salvation is for the ten-thousandth time put before him, but before he has grasped the rope, I see him sink. I may as well put my finger upon those cold eyelids, for they will never see anything here again.

But where is the man, and where are the man’s true eyes? It is written, “In hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment.” Ah! Why did he not lift up his eyes before? Because he was so accustomed to hear the gospel that his soul slept as it was preached. Alas! If you should lift up your eyes there, how bitter will be your wailings. Let the Savior’s own words reveal the anguish: “Father Abraham, send Lazarus, that he may dip the tip of his finger in water, and cool my tongue, for I am tormented in this flame.” There is a frightful meaning in those words. May you never have to spell it out by the red fire of Jehovah’s wrath!

Morning, December 30, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The end of a matter is better than its beginning.” — Ecclesiastes 7:8

Look at David’s Lord and Master; see his beginning. He was despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Would you see the end? He sits at his Father’s right hand, waiting until his enemies will be made his footstool. “Because as He is, so also are we in this world.” You must bear the cross, or you shall never wear the crown; you must wade through the mire, or you shall never walk the golden pavement. Cheer up, then, poor Christian. “The end of a matter is better than its beginning.” See that caterpillar, a creeping worm, how contemptible its appearance! It is the beginning of a thing. Mark that insect with gorgeous wings, playing in the sunbeams, sipping at the flower bells, full of happiness and life; that is the end thereof. That caterpillar is yourself, until you are wrapped up in the chrysalis of death; but when Christ shall appear you shall be like him, for you shall see him as he is. Be content to be like him, a worm and no man, that like him you may be satisfied when you wake up in his likeness. That rough-looking diamond is put upon the wheel of the lapidary. He cuts it on all sides. It loses much–much that seemed costly to itself. The king is crowned; the diadem is put upon the monarch’s head with trumpet’s joyful sound. A glittering ray flashes from that coronet, and it beams from that very diamond which was just now so greatly tried by the lapidary. You may venture to compare yourself to such a diamond, for you are one of God’s people; and this is the time of the cutting process. Let faith and patience have their perfect work, for in the day when the crown shall be set upon the head of the King, Eternal, Immortal, Invisible, one ray of glory shall stream from you. “They shall be mine,” says the Lord, “in the day when I make up my jewels.” “The end of a matter is better than its beginning.”

Evening, December 29, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“What do you think about the Messiah?” — Matthew 22:42

The great test of your soul’s health is: What do you think of Christ? Is he to you “fairer than the children of men”–“the chief among ten thousand”–the “altogether lovely”? Wherever Christ is in this way esteemed, all the faculties of the spiritual man bring to bear themselves with energy. I will judge of your piety by this barometer: Does Christ stand high or low with you? If you have thought little of Christ, if you have been content to live without his presence, if you have cared little for his honor, if you have been neglectful of his laws, then I know that your soul is sick–God grant that it may not be sick unto death! But if the first thought of your spirit has been, how can I honor Jesus? If the daily desire of your soul has been, “O that I knew where I might find him!” I tell you that you may have a thousand illnesses, and even scarcely know whether you are a child of God at all, and yet I am persuaded, beyond a doubt, that you are safe, since Jesus is held highly in your esteem. I do not care for your rags; what do you think of his royal apparel? I do not care for your wounds, though they bleed in torrents; what do you think of his wounds? Are they like glittering rubies in your esteem? I think none the less of you, though you lie like Lazarus on the dung pile, and the dogs lick you–I judge you not by your poverty; what do you think of the King in his beauty? Has he a glorious high throne in your heart? Would you set him higher if you could? Would you be willing to die if you could just add another trumpet to the anthem which proclaims his praise? Ah! Then it is well with you. Whatever you may think of yourself, if Christ is great to you, you shall be with him before long.

“Though all the world my choice deride,

Yet Jesus shall my portion be;

For I am pleased with none beside,

The fairest of the fair is he.”

Morning, December 29, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Thus far the Lord has helped us.” — 1 Samuel 7:12

The phrase “thus far” seems like a hand pointing in the direction of the past. Twenty years or seventy, and yet, “Thus far the Lord has helped us!” Through poverty, through wealth, through sickness, through health, at home, abroad, on the land, on the sea, in honor, in dishonor, in perplexity, in joy, in trial, in triumph, in prayer, in temptation, “Thus far the Lord has helped us!” We take pleasure in looking down a long avenue of trees. It is delightful to gaze from end to end of the long vista, a sort of verdant temple, with its branching pillars and its arches of leaves; even so look down the long avenues of your years, at the green boughs of mercy overhead, and the strong pillars of lovingkindness and faithfulness which bear up your joys. Are there no birds in those distant branches singing? Surely there must be many, and they all sing of mercy received “thus far.”

But the word also points forward. For when a man gets up to a certain mark and writes “thus far,” he is not yet at the end; there is still a distance to be traversed. More trials, more joys; more temptations, more triumphs; more prayers, more answers; more toils, more strength; more fights, more victories; and then come sickness, old age, disease, death. Is it over now? No! There is more yet: awakening in Jesus’ likeness, thrones, harps, songs, psalms, white raiment, the face of Jesus, the society of saints, the glory of God, the fullness of eternity, the infinity of ecstasy. O be of good courage, believer, and with grateful confidence raise your”Ebenezer,” for–

He who hath helped thee hitherto

Will help thee all thy journey through.

When read in heaven’s light how glorious and marvelous a prospect will your “thus far” unfold to your grateful eye!

Evening, December 28, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“Do not think that I came to bring peace on the earth; I did not come to bring peace, but a sword”. — Matthew 10:34

The Christian will be sure to make enemies. It will be one of his objects to make none; but if to do right, and to believe the truth should cause him to lose every earthly friend, he will count it but a small loss, since his great Friend in heaven will be yet more friendly, and reveal himself to him more graciously than ever. O you who have taken up his cross, do you not know what your Master said? “For I came to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law.” Christ is the great Peacemaker; but before peace, he brings war. Where the light comes forth, the darkness must withdraw. Where truth is, the lie must flee; or, if it abides, there must be a severe conflict, for the truth cannot and will not lower its standard, and the lie must be trodden under foot. If you follow Christ, you shall have all the dogs of the world yelping at your heels. If you would live in such a way so as to stand the test of the last tribunal, trust that the world will not speak well of you. He who has the friendship of the world is an enemy to God; but if you are true and faithful to the Most High, men will resent your unflinching fidelity, since it is a testimony against their iniquity. Fearless of all consequences, you must do that which is right. You will need the courage of a lion to unhesitatingly pursue a course which shall turn your best friend into your fiercest foe; but for the love of Jesus you must be courageous. You may hazard reputation and affection for the truth’s sake; it is such a deed that to do it constantly you will need a degree of moral principle which only the Spirit of God can work in you; yet do not turn your back like a coward, but play the man. Follow manfully right in your Master’s steps, for he has traversed this rough way before you. Better brief warfare and eternal rest, than false peace and everlasting torment.

Morning, December 28, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“The life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself up for me.” — Galatians 2:20

When the Lord in mercy passed by and saw us in our blood, he first of all said, “Live;” and this he did first, because spiritual life is one of the absolutely essential things in spiritual matters, and until it is given we are incapable of sharing in the things of the kingdom. Now the life which grace confers upon the saints at the moment of their enlivening is none other than the life of Christ, which, like the sap from the stem, runs into us, the branches, and establishes a living connection between our souls and Jesus. Faith is the grace which perceives this union, having proceeded from it as its first fruit. It is the neck which joins the body of the Church to its all-glorious Head.

“Oh Faith! thou bond of union with the Lord,

Is not this office thine? and thy fit name,

In the economy of gospel types,

And symbols apposite–the Church’s neck;

Identifying her in will and work

With him ascended?”

Faith lays hold upon the Lord Jesus with a firm and determined grasp. She knows his excellence and worth, and no temptation can induce her to rest her trust elsewhere; and Christ Jesus is so delighted with this heavenly grace, that he never ceases to strengthen and sustain her by the loving embrace and all-sufficient support of his eternal arms. Here, then, is established a living, sensible, and delightful union which casts forth streams of love, confidence, sympathy, contentment, and joy, where both the bride and bridegroom love to drink. When the soul can clearly perceive this oneness between itself and Christ, the pulse may be felt as beating for both, and the one blood as flowing through the veins of each. Then is the heart as near heaven as it can be on earth, and is prepared for the enjoyment of the most sublime and spiritual kind of fellowship.

Evening, December 27, edited from Spurgeon’s Morning and Evening

“And the Lord will continually guide you.” – Isaiah 58:11

“The Lord will guide you.” Not an angel, but Jehovah shall guide you. He said he would not go through the wilderness before his people; instead, an angel should go before them to lead them in the way; but Moses said, “If your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here.”

Christian, God has not left you to an angel’s guidance in your earthly pilgrimage: he himself leads the vanguard. You may not see the cloudy, fiery pillar, but Jehovah will never forsake you. Notice the word will –“The Lord will guide you.” How certain this makes it! How sure it is that God will not forsake us! His precious “shalls” and “wills” are better than men’s oaths. “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.” Then observe the adverb “continually.” We are not merely to be guided sometimes, but we are to have a perpetual monitor; not occasionally to be left to our own understanding, and so to wander, but we are continually to hear the guiding voice of the Great Shepherd; and if we follow close at his heels, we shall not err, but be led by a right way to a city to dwell in. If you have to change your position in life; if you have to emigrate to distant shores; if it should happen that you are cast into poverty, or uplifted suddenly into a more responsible position than the one you now occupy; if you are thrown among strangers, or cast among foes, do not tremble, for “the Lord will guide you continually.” There are no dilemmas out of which you shall not be delivered if you live near to God, and your heart is kept warm with holy love. He does not goes amiss who goes in the company of God. Like Enoch, walk with God, and you cannot lose sight of your road. You have infallible wisdom to direct you, unchallengeable love to comfort you, and eternal power to defend you. “Jehovah”–mark the word–“Jehovah shall guide you continually.”