Babes in Christ. — 1 Cor 3:1
Are you mourning, believer, because you are so weak in the divine life—because your faith is so little, your love so feeble? Cheer up, for you have cause for gratitude. Remember that in some things you are equal to the greatest and most full-grown Christian. You are as much bought with Christ’s precious blood, as he is. You are as much an adopted child of God, as any other believer. An infant is as truly a child of its parents, as is the full-grown man. You are as completely justified, for your justification is not a thing of degrees—your little faith has made you every whit justified. You have as much right to the precious things of the covenant, as the most advanced believers, for your right to covenant mercies lies not in your growth but in the covenant itself; and your faith in Jesus is not the measure but the token of your inheritance in Him. You are as rich as the richest, if not in enjoyment—yet in real possession.
The smallest star that gleams—is set in heaven; the faintest ray of light—has affinity with the great orb of day. In the family register of glory—the small and the great are written with the same pen. You are as dear to your Father’s heart—as the greatest in the family. Jesus is very tender over you. You are like the smoking flax; a rougher spirit would say, “put out that smoking flax, it fills the room with an offensive odor!” But He will not quench the smoking flax. You are like a bruised reed; and any less tender hand than that of the Chief Musician, would tread upon you or throw you away but He will never break the bruised reed.
Instead of being downcast by reason of what you are, you should triumph in Christ. Am I but little in Israel? Yet in Christ I am made to sit in heavenly places. Am I poor in faith? Still in Jesus I am heir of all things. If the root of the matter is in me—I will rejoice in the Lord, and glory in the God of my salvation!
God, my maker, who giveth songs in the night. — Job 35:10
Any man can sing in the day. When the cup is full—man draws inspiration from it. When wealth rolls in abundance around him—any man can praise the God who gives a plenteous harvest. It is easy enough for an Aeolian harp to whisper music when the winds blow—the difficulty is for music to swell forth when no wind is stirring. It is easy to sing when we can read the notes by daylight; but he is skillful who sings when there is not a ray of light to read by—who sings from his heart.
No man can make a song in the night of himself; he may attempt it but he will find that a song in the night must be divinely inspired. Let all things go well, I can weave songs, fashioning them wherever I go out into the flowers that grow upon my path; but put me in a desert, where no green thing grows, and with what shall I frame a hymn of praise to God? How shall a mortal man make a crown for the Lord—where there are no jewels? Let but this voice be clear, and this body full of health and I can sing God’s praise. But silence my tongue, lay me upon the bed of languishing, and how shall I then chant God’s high praises, unless He Himself gives me the song? No, it is not in man’s power to sing when all is adverse, unless an altar-coal shall touch his lips!
It was a divine song, which Habakkuk sang, when in the night he said, “Even though the fig trees have no blossoms, and there are no grapes on the vine; even though the olive crop fails, and the fields lie empty and barren; even though the flocks die in the fields, and the cattle barns are empty, yet I will rejoice in the Lord! I will be joyful in the God of my salvation! The Sovereign Lord is my strength!” Then, since our Maker gives songs in the night, let us wait upon Him for the music. O chief musician, let us not remain songless because affliction is upon us but tune our lips to the melody of thanksgiving!
Morning and Evening - October 19
Public domain content taken from Morning and Evening by Charles H. Spurgeon.