A German shell has fallen almost on the eighteen-pounder gun, and the gunners are all taking cover in a dug-out under a hot bombardment. This is a place of shelter for them, and for the moment they are safe. The mighty thunders of terrible War pour over their heads, but they have found a refuge from the storm. What a blessing it is to be sheltered when the storms of death are raging! Would to God every soldier knew the refuge of the Rock of Ages cleft for sinners. Would, to God that on every battlefield soldiers could look up to-heaven and say, “Thou hast been a refuge from the storm... when the blast of the terrible ones is as a storm against the wall.” Would to God they could sing amid the storm:
“Rock of ages cleft for me,
Let me hide myself in Thee,”
The Lord Jesus is a hiding-place for those who trust in Him. He is a “refuge from the storm.” Oh to be able to sing: —
“Other refuge have I none,
Hangs my helpless soul on Thee;
Leave, ah I leave me not alone,
Still support and comfort me.
All my trust on Thee is stayed,
All my help from Thee I bring,
Cover my defenseless head
With the shadow of Thy, wing.
Hide me, oh, my Saviour, hide,
Till the storm of life he past,
Safe into the haven guide,
Oh! receive my soul at last.”