95
B u s i n e s s
T h e
K i n g ’ s
February 1932
God is the refuge o f His saints, When storms o f sharp distress invade; Ere we can offer pur complaints, Behold Him present with His aid ! — I saac W atts . FEBRUARY 20 “And I will pray the Father, and he shall give you another Comforter” (John 14: 16). Jesus had been the disciples’ Paraclete up to that moment. What a privilege it was to be able in one’s trouble to turn to the Master! He was always there; He always had time for them, could always help them. It was quite natural that they should turn to Him in their need. “They have no wine,” said the mother o f Jesus; and as soon as' she had acquainted Him with her trouble, she rested assured that He would set all right. “ Teach us to pray,” said His disciples, and the Lord gave them the most beautiful, the most wonderful of prayers, through which thousands and tens o f thousands have opened their hearts to God. “ Lord, help m e!” cried Peter in his hour of need, and immediately the Lord stretched out a saving hand to His disciple. Now, since the Lord has begun His min istry in heaven for uS, He has sent us an other divine Helper, just as powerful as Himself, just as loving, just as willing to help us. The Holy Spirit is in us, and with us, and always at our side. •—D. H. D olman . FEBRUARY 21 “ Come unto me, . . . and I will give you rest” (Matt. 11:28). Today there is the restless multitude, weary, and worn, and sad, the distracted business man, the struggling youth, the parents anxious concerning their children. Yes, the multitude is great, and the rest lessness is evident. And there are many voices, heard in the world today speaking to this distracted and anxious and weary! crowd. They say, “You need a rest: a' complete change: you have been overwork ing : you are quite upset.” Oh, the voices that meet the multitude today! And above them all, there rises the sweet voice of. Jesus, “ Come unto me.” ; Why do men not come? To whom will men go for rest? Who can give rest as Jesus can? — B ish o p T aylor S m it h . “ I came to Jesus as I was, Weary, and worn, and sad; I found in Him a resting place, And He has made me glad.” FEBRUARY 22 “ Consider the lilies o f the field” (Matt. 6:28). I stoop to pick a tiny weed blowing at my1 feet. I did not see it before. It is very small; yet when I conjie to consider it, it is very exquisite. Delicate hues on the petal, delicate curves on the leaf, delicate ad justments for its preservation; a world of. study and o f love wrapt up in its tiny, unpretending structure! None could have fashioned it so tenderly who did not love it. For it God cares; for it He made His sun to shine, His rain to fa ll; on it, surely, His eyes delight to rest. How wonderful a lesson o f patient, painstaking care! of individual love and providence! The mighty Worker is. the minute Provider. He forgets nothing. Be ashamed, my soul, o f thy faithless fears! Thy God is a rich God, and as willing and as considerate as
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FEBRUARY 17 “ Our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight o f glory" (2 Cor. 4:17). The glory is not merely the issue of the tribulation, but in some sense its product. Tribulation is the soil, and glory is the blossom and the fruit. The soil is rough and unseemly, but the produce is alto gether perfect. It may seem strange that out o f such a field there should spring ver dure so fresh and fruit so divine. Yet we know that such is the case. How much we owe to that unlikely soil! Not only do all things work together for good to us, but they as truly work together for glory. Faith lays hold of this and prizes tribu lation, nay, glories in it; so realizing the joy as to lose sight o f the sorrow, save as contributing to the jo y ; so absorbed in the glory as to forget the shame, excepting in so far as it is the parent and precursor of the glory.— H oratius B onar . FEBRUARY 18 “By the power, of. the Spirit of God” (Rom. 15:19). God has been teaching me that we need not trouble about power; we need not trouble about anything, so long as our at titude is right toward God. It is not a question o f effort, but of attitude. How marvelous that we do.not see it! There is plenty o f power; it is all in God, and there is no evidence of effort on the part o f the consecrated heart. . . . The power of a consecrated life is in God; the activity will be in you, because God will show Himself strong, and work in you and through you mightily. Where there is whole-hearted consecration, God will give the power. You say, “ I should like to feel it.” You will not. You say, “ I should like to have it before using it.” You will not. Just at the moment when it is needed, if your attitude is right, the stream of power will flow through you. . . . When there is this consecration, it will secure to you a manifestation o f God’s power; He will show Himself strong in your behalf. HES-E van H . H o pk in s . FEBRUARY 19 “ Then was Jesus led up of the spirit into, the wilderness” (Matt. 4 :1 ). Then was Jesus led up. Surely it was a strange time for such a catastrophe. Was it not just after the glorious vision on the banks of Jordan, when the heavens had been opened to His sight, and the dove-like Spirit had descended on His soul, and the Father’s voice had sounded in His ear, “ This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased” ? After such a vision, after such a voice, one would have thought that there was no room in His life for a wil derness any more; yet it was then, and at no other time, that the wilderness ap peared. I too have betimes been forced to repeat this experience of my Lord. '— G eorge M ath eso n .
FEBRUARY 15 “ Wait on the Lord: be o f good courage, and he shall strengthen thine heart: wait, I say, on the Lord" (Psa. 27:14). Do not give up those prayers which God’s Spirit has put in your heart—-for remember, the things you have asked for are worth waiting for. Besides, you are a beggar when you are in prayer; there fore you must- not be a chooser as to the time when God shall hear you.................. Better men than you have had to wait. Kings and patriarchs and prophets have waited; therefore surely you can be con tent to sit in the King’s antechamber a lit tle while. It is an honor'to sit as Mordecai did at the gate. Pray on—wait on! “A h !” says one, “that is just what I have been doing a long' time.” Yes, yes, there are different kinds of waiting. A man says, “I have been waiting,” but he has folded his arms and gone to sleep. You may wait in that way till you are lost. The waiting I mean is “getting all things ready” —the waiting of the poor sufferer for the physician, who cries out in pain, “ Is the doctor coming?” I will be surety for my Master when I say-that none such will be sent empty away. He will never break His promise. Try H im !—C. H. S purgeon . FEBRUARY 16 “Every day will I bless thee, and I will praise thy name for ever and ever” (Psa. 145:2). Once Mendelssohn was in the great ca thedral in Fribourg, where was the great est organ on the continent, and he felt a desire to touch the grand instrument. So he went up to the old man in charge of the place, and begged that he might be al lowed to play on it. “No,” said the old man, “this is a valuable instrument, and no stranger is ever allowed to touch it.” “ But,” said Mendelssohn, “I will not harm it, and you may stand here and see that I do no damage.” The old man at last yield ed, and Mendelssohn mounted the organ- bench, and began to let his fingers wander at will over the manuals, and his feet over the pedals. The great organ pealed forth such melodies and harmonies that the old man was entranced, and exclaimed, “Well, who are you ?” “My name is Mendelssohn,” was the reply. “And yet,” said the old man, as he burst into tears: “ I had almost for bidden Mendelssohn, the great master of music, to touch this organ!” What dis cords would be hushed; what disharmon ies would end; what music would fill our lives, if we only allowed the hands o f a greater than Mendelssohn to play ever more upon the notes! No one but the Mas ter can hush the discords, and make our lives one glad, continuous Hallelujah Chorus! Shall we not let Him ? “ Praise, my soul, the King of heaven; To His feet thy tribute bring; Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven, Who like thee .His praise shall sing ?
Praise H im ! Praise H im ! Praise the everlasting King.”
—J. G. M.
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