If this word stood alone it might seem impossible to carry it out, for there is so much to cause care in everybody’s path. Among the many who will read these lines there will be some whose lives are darkened by heavy clouds—a sick husband, a dying wife, a stricken child, slender resources that pinch at every turn, want of work, old age creeping on with its inevitable infirmities.
Taking a wider survey, there are the sins and sorrows of the Church, the spread of deadly doctrines, the poverty of conversions, the unrest in the world, perplexity of nations, the sea and the waves roaring. With all these before our eyes, it seems almost incredible that a voice should be heard bidding us in quiet, tender, assuring accents to be careful about nothing. But so it is.
Who is it that bids us by the pen of the apostle in nothing to be anxious? It is God—our Father—without whom not a sparrow falls to the ground, who has numbered the very hairs of our head, who sees and knows everything—it is He who bids us to be careful about nothing. It is He,—the One who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, from whose love nothing in heaven or earth shall ever separate us, it is He who calls upon us to be careful about nothing. Can this be His call? Yes, indeed it is. And that word “nothing” takes everything in. Whatever may come, we are enjoined in nothing to be careful.
We may feel things deeply. It is right that we should. The Christian is no stoic, unmoved by joy or grief. Far from that: it is his privilege to rejoice with those that rejoice, and weep with those who weep. But our God would have us without carefulness. Our shoulders are not broad enough to bear the burdens of life. He therefore bids us cast them all upon Him, and in nothing to be anxious.
What then? He is near to us. His ear is open, His heart is tender, His hand is strong. He invites our confidence.
“Come to Me,” He says, “tell Me everything, pour out your heart to Me and unbosom all your griefs.”
Nearer, dearer than the dearest earthly friend is this One whose ear is never closed, and whose arm can bring salvation. We tell Him all—our cares, our sorrows, our fears, our disappointments, our blighted hopes, and thwarted plans. We keep nothing back, our hearts empty themselves out before Him. And there we rest, knowing that all things are possible with Him. And so
“We leave it to Himself
To choose and to command.”
What a comfort to have One so accessible, at whose door we cannot knock too often, who is never wearied with our frequent calls. And we trust Him. We place ourselves, and everything that concerns us in His hands and leave them there. He knows the way we take, and we do know, too,
To us there is much that is inexplicable—much that we would have ordered otherwise, had the arrangement of things been left to our discretion. But God is infinitely wise. He makes no mistakes, and though everything seems to take its course, yet it is not really so. His eye is upon all, nor is anything hid from Him.
Strong, then in the sense of His love, we go on our way, guarded by the peace which passeth all understanding. Strength for today He gives, and strength for the morrow shall be ours when the morrow comes. And be the way rough or smooth, it leads towards HOME.
“Lord, ‘tis enough, we ask no more,
Thy grace around us pours,
Its rich and unexhausted store,
And all its joy is ours.”