God became incarnate here; "The Word was made flesh and dwelt among us." "Babe of weakness, can it be Babe of meekness, can it be Child of poverty, art thou Can that feeble head alone Can those helpless hands of thine Thou o'er whom the sword and rod 44 The Way that I take." BELIEVE we never really know the value of anything till we come to want it; many a man has a fireescape in his house, and never gives it a thought till the cry of fire is heard, and then he remembers the escape soon enough, and uses it too. And sure I am that there's many and many a verse in the Bible that we never feel we have anything to say to, till something happens that teaches us we could not do without it. There is one verse that I learned the value of in a time of sore trouble-just these few words, " He knoweth the way that I take.' I am sure I had read that verse hundreds of times; of course it was true, for it was in the Bible, and 1 "Hymns of Faith and Hope." 2 Job xxiii. 10. besides, God, being God, must know everything; so it was no wonder He knew the way that I took. That is all I ever thought about it, if indeed I thought so much, till I was kneeling beside my poor husband, and he lying dead in his coffin. We had been married thirteen years, and every year the love between us grew greater and greater, till at last it seemed as if we knew each other's thoughts without putting them into words. And oh! he was so good, and kind, and wise. He had such a wonderful way with the children, such a way of making them love him, and withal be so respectful and obedient-what he was to me-but I mustn't begin to talk of that, but only thank God I had him for thirteen years. As I said, I was kneeling beside his coffin, my very heart breaking with sorrow, and with the awful desolation that only the widow knows,-and the widow's God. What could I do without him? How could I, a poor weak woman, manage the children? There was Tom, with his proud, high spirit; and Willie, who downright hated school and lessons; and poor little sickly Mary, and the two little ones, and not one of them able to earn a farthing but myself. I knew well that in a real, big trouble I might go to our good minister, or his kind and feeling wife, and that they would gladly do anything they could to help me. But it was not only a great trouble that I was fearing, but just the everyday life, with the little small things that would be always happening, and that he was always so wise and kind about-he that would be laid in his grave in the morning. Oh! What could I do without a friend on earth to help me? But as I thought that, and the tears were falling fast, I seemed to hear a voice whispering in my very heart, “He knoweth the way that I take." 66 He," that is, the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, so He has all power to help-the Son of man, so He could sympathize and feel. "In that He Himself hath suffered being tempted, "He He is able also to succour them that are tempted." He knoweth my way, for He has trodden it Himself. was in all points tempted (or tried) like as we are. He knoweth it, it is familiar to Him, so nothing that happens to me can take Him by surprise. 66 Then I thought of the verse, My God shall supply all your need, according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus." He has, as it were, a store of everything I want laid up for me, so that as He knows my way, and knows what I want, He will supply all my need out of those riches in glory, which will never come to an end, however much He may give me out of them. Then too, as He knows my way, and knows what I want, He can never be taken unawares; I can never want anything that He has not already to give me. It was something like when an aunt who was married and settled in Australia, wrote word for us to send my little sister out to her, and that she would provide for her. We lived far away down in the country then, and knew nothing of what she would want for the voyage; and as we were wondering what we could do, another letter came, saying our aunt had written full directions to a friend in London, who would find everything for her, and that Bessie had nothing to do but to go to her on such a day, and she would see her on board the vessel, and take care that she had everything right. I believe we would much rather have fussed about everything ourselves, at the risk of making plenty of mistakes, but we had no choice, and had to do as we were bid. When Bessie went to London, she was very curious to know what was in the big trunks, numbered 1, 2, 3, and marked with her name. But the friend said she would not tell her, and that when the time came she would find she had everything she wanted, for that she herself had been to Australia, so she knew all about it. And so it turned out, for as Bessie wrote us word, it wasn't only that she had everything she wanted, big and little, but, 1 Heb. ii. 18. 2 Heb. iv. 15. 3 Philip. iv. 19. over and above that, in every box there was sure to be something for a surprise, to cheer her up, and give her courage. And wasn't that better than if we had tried to manage, and perhaps have left out many a little thing she might have wanted, and that only one who had been to Australia could know about? And so with the Lord, "He knoweth the way that I take;" and day by day and hour by hour He'll give me what I want, as I want it. If everything in heaven and earth belongs to Him, and if He loved me so much that He died to save me, I need not fear He'll grudge me what I want. Most of all what I wanted now was comfort and wisdom. And isn't He the very "God of all comfort ?" So that all the comfort my dear husband had given me came from God; and now that John had gone to his heavenly home, God would send me the comfort straight from Himself. And then as to the wisdom, it says, "He layeth up sound wisdom for the righteous. For a moment the last word staggered me. How could I call myself righteous! I could not do it at all; but then I could say, "The Lord is my righteousness." So that, full of sin as I was in myself, I was counted righteous in my Saviour. "2 I could not think any more then, I could not even pray, unless, indeed, the feeling of need was prayer, and I think it was, for I got up from my knees helped and comforted for all that lay before me, and thanking God for that precious verse. And it's just past the telling, how He has helped me ever since helped me in my own want, and helped me with the children. When the loneliness is strong upon me, I hear Him saying, "I the Lord thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee." He brightens up my poor heart with the sunshine of his own love. He has made the children to be so easily managed, too, and as obedient to me as they ever were to their father, just because I am asking all the day long for a bit of the "sound wisdom" He has laid up for me. And of course the thought of this encourages me when I'm fearful for the future, so that I am sure (and no wonder, seeing that “He knows the way that I take") that when my last hour on earth comes, I shall be able to say, "Goodness and mercy have followed me all the days of my life;" and they are following me now, right into the very house of my God, where I shall dwell for ever and ever. NE question of all others is frequently asked, and with tearful anxiety, when friends are taking their last earthly farewell of each other "Shall we meet again?" Our Queen put it to her dying husband, and it has been put by thousands and tens of thousands of loving hearts throughout all generations. It has been felt that human affections, sanctified by Divine love, have been stronger than the grave, and that death could not sever the sweet fellowship begun on earth; that there must be an immortality for its completeness and permanence. We really need no more than the teaching of Holy Scripture to assure us that heaven is the Father's house, where his redeemed children will all be of one family; and where, as Peter, James, and John knew Moses and Elias, who had died ages before them, we shall become acquainted and hold converse with the great and good of all time. If, so to speak, we shall recognise strangers who have become dear to us only through reading their histories, and through sympathy with what they were and what they did, will it be possible that we shall not recognise the friends and relatives with whom we ourselves took sweet counsel together, and who walked with us for a season in the journey of life? 1 The writer of this touching narrative died not long ago, having experienced to the very end the faithfulness and loving-kindness of her God and Father. |