“Happy the home, where Jesu's name,
Is sweet to every ear:
Where children early lisp His fame,
And parents hold Him dear.
Happy the home, where prayer is heard,
Where hearts are fill'd with praise;
Where parents love the sacred word,
And grace rules all their ways."
Mrs. W—.
WHEN the River of Mercy flows through the home, what a happy home it is; what sweet fruits and flowers may be looked for! Such a home was Timothy's; many, many Christian homes are now to be found on every hand, but Timothy's was one of the first. "Christian" was a name then of but a few years old. “The disciples were called Christians first in Antioch," and about the, time of Timothy's birth.
Already, for nearly two thousand years, God had had a people for Himself upon earth; a people whom He knew, whom He spoke with, whom He preserved in trouble and weakness; a people who knew Him as Jehovah Elohim, the Lord God; a people who trusted in Him, who walked by faith, and who died in faith, not having received the promises. The promises were made to Abraham and to his Seed forever; that Seed was Christ. The descendants of Abraham were then the people of God; the River of Mercy did not flow, as now, on every side; it was not, as now, a flood running over all its banks; it flowed in its course, and that course was the nation of Israel.
Isaac was heir to the promises made to Abraham. In some families riches are possessed; they may be diamonds, or portraits, or valuable books, or gold and silver plate; these are, when the possessor dies, handed down to his heir; that heir, in his turn, dies and leaves the riches to another heir, "For we brought nothing into this world, and it is certain we can carry nothing out." So with the promises given to Abraham; he died, and they were handed down to Isaac. Isaac could see nothing, but he kept the promises in faith; he was persuaded of them, and embraced them; then he died and handed them down to Jacob, who was called Israel; thus the promises moved on and on through Jacob's twelve sons, through the many thousands of Israel, but with none of these could the promises rest; these all died.
“But when the fullness of the time was come, God sent forth his Son." And now the promises did rest; they do not pass from Christ to any other. “All the promises of God in him, are yea, and in him amen." Now, Christians get more than promises; it is present blessing. Those who were born of Abraham got the promises. Those who are born of God now get present and eternal blessing. We now are not parts of a nation to which God has promised, and on which He will bestow wonderful blessings; those who are now of faith are children of God. “Ye are all children of God by faith in Christ Jesus." It is not the people or nation of God; it is the family of God.
In this family all bear the name of Christians, not Israelites. Christians form the family of God and the church of God. Now God is revealed in Christ. Now all who believe know God, not only as Jehovah Elohim, but as Father. “When the fullness of time was come God sent forth His Son." “To as many as received him, to them gave he the right to be the children of God, even to them that believe on his name." “Behold what manner of love the Father has bestowed upon us that we should be called the children of God." I have told you all this to help you to understand, a little, the blessings and wonders of this new name—Christian. Syrian means of Syria; Egyptian means of Egypt; Indian means of India; and Christian means of Christ. Christ is the foundation of the Christian home; Christ is the Master of the Christian home; Christ is the Example for the Christian home; and Christ is the Light, the Strength, the Safety, and the Joy of the Christian home. No wonder then that it should be a happy place. No wonder that sweet fruits should be found there, the fruit of the Spirit. Love, Joy, Peace, Longsuffering, Gentleness, Goodness, Faith, Meekness, Temperance.
Two treasures are also to be found in every Christian home. They were in Timothy's home. One treasure is external, that is, it is an outward treasure, which all who come into the home can see; the other is an inward treasure. The outward treasure is the word of God: the more this treasure is prized and studied, the more does fruit abound in the home; the more do peace and contentment reign there. The home may be a rich one; many useful and pleasant things may be found in and around it, but none of them all would make up for the loss of this treasure.
David, the man after God's own heart, said, "Thy word is better unto me than thousands of gold and silver," and this is still the language of the Christian, the child of God; and again David said, "I have esteemed the words of thy mouth more than my necessary food." The home may be a poor one; little furniture in it, no store of silver or gold, little there beyond the necessary food, but how precious a treasure is the Bible to the poor one of this world who is “rich in faith"!
Timothy's grandmother Lois, and his mother Eunice, must have prized this treasure, for, “from a child" Timothy had “known the holy scriptures." What a sweet sight is to be seen in the christian home when the child stands beside the mother or the grandmother to learn or to repeat a portion of the holy scriptures! It may be a little child, and its baby lips can scarcely utter distinctly the three words, "God is love," but still those three words, so lisped, are part of the treasure which is "able" to make the little one "wise unto salvation."
The light of the sun shines morning by morning into every home: yesterday's light would not do for to-day. So, morning by morning, the light of God's word must shine into the Christian home. In the winter morning the sun's light may shine but dimly, a thick fog may cloud his rays, but the light of God's word shines unchangingly through summer's light and winter's cloud; the father and mother sit down, the children sit around, perhaps the youngest on its mother's knee; perhaps, as in Timothy's home, the grandmother too is there to complete the picture. What a sweet sacred hour it is. The toils of the day, it may be hard work, or it may be study, are before them, but they read of the time "when toil shall all be o'er;" the difficulties of the day are before them, but they read of the peace which passeth all understanding; the sorrows of the day are before them, but they read of the time when "God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away." And in the dusk of the winter afternoon, when the mother or grandmother finds time to spare, or in the evening when lessons and work are ended, what a brightness does the treasure lend to the home! Who shall be dull, when he follows the ancient people of God through all their wilderness journeyings, on into the land flowing with milk and honey? Who shall be fearful, when he hears how the stripling David slew the giant, or how the whole Assyrian army was put to flight by God? Who shall dread want, when he reads how, in the barren desert, man did eat angels' food? or how, in the day of famine, Elijah was fed by birds of prey? or how, later on towards the dawning of the christian day, Christ fed the multitudes? Timothy may have heard all these stories from the lips of Lois or Eunice, and some, as he grew older, he could read for himself. A traveler once came upon a scene of this kind, the evening reading in a christian home in the distant land of Syria; for, as I told you, the people of God do not now belong to one nation, but are taken from among all nations over the whole face of the earth; and whether the home be like Timothy's in Derbe, a city of Asia Minor, or wherever yours may be, or like this one in Syria, the treasure in every home is alike the word of God. The reading in this family began directly after the evening meal, lest the little ones should be sleepy; and the Bible read was in Arabic, as that was the language best understood by the servants. All sat round a long table; then the father, the mother, and each, down to the smallest child and the old Arab servant, in his turban and full Turkish trousers, read in turn one verse of the precious Book. If you had been there you would have been much puzzled to read your verse from an Arabic Bible, though it is so easy and pleasant to you to read, in your turn when, like the Syrian family, you sit among your own dear people at home.
When first God began to give His word to His people, He told what use was to be made of it. We read in Deut. 6:6-96And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: 7And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. 8And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. 9And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates. (Deuteronomy 6:6‑9): "And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and thou shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates," and again, in Deut. 11:18, 19, 2018Therefore shall ye lay up these my words in your heart and in your soul, and bind them for a sign upon your hand, that they may be as frontlets between your eyes. 19And ye shall teach them your children, speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. 20And thou shalt write them upon the door posts of thine house, and upon thy gates: (Deuteronomy 11:18‑20), we get almost the same words.
God has not since told any different way of using His word. God does not say, Put my Book into better covers than any other, and lay it in a place by itself; He does not say, Put my Book on a high shelf where the children cannot reach it. God does see how we treat His Book, even outwardly, and children do well to remember this; it is a very shocking sight to see a Bible with its covers scratched and broken, and its leaves carelessly turned down or torn or blotted; still, outward respect is not all that is due to the word of God.
Supposing a kind and learned visitor, a friend of kings and princes, was sent to your house, you would know that he deserved respect. Supposing you showed him into your best room, and then went away and left him there alone, all the time, would this be respect? would he or the one who had sent him be pleased? No; the great messenger would say, I was sent to you with messages of goodness and wisdom; my time here has been spent in vain; no one comes to hear what I have to say. So God is not pleased when His word is left on one side.
It is not so in the christian home; it was not so in Timothy's home: “from a child," he knew the holy scriptures. Abraham, Joseph, Gideon, David, Daniel, and many others are not names only, they are all friends, well-known in the Christian home. God directs us to make use of His word, and He too makes use of it. The word of God brings life to our souls: while we obediently read or hear, God the Holy Spirit uses the word in this way.
This brings us to the second treasure—the inward treasure; that treasure dwelt in the grandmother Lois, in the mother Eunice, and in Timothy—"Faith unfeigned." Oh, precious treasure! which is in every christian home, which is in the heart of every child of God, which is the evidence of things not seen, and without which it is impossible to please God. It is through faith in Christ Jesus that the word of God makes wise unto salvation. You have the first treasure, little child, in your Christian home; do you say how may I get this second treasure? "Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God."
“Faith is a very simple thing,
Though little understood;
It frees the soul from death's dread sting,
By resting on the blood.
It looks not on the things around,
Nor on the things within;
It takes its flight to scenes above,
Beyond the sphere of sin.
Faith is not what we see or feel,
It is a simple trust
In what the God of love has said
Of Jesus as the Just."
Every child of an Israelite was born to the promises made by God to Israel: the river of mercy, with its rich promise of blessing, flowed through the home of the Israelite child, but did a Hophni or a Joash grasp the promise, or enjoy the blessing No; the blessing, then as now, to be lasting, had to be grasped by faith. Blessed indeed is the portion of the child who daily learns and daily hears the precious word of God, who daily shares the love, joy, and peace of the christian home; but to possess these blessed things for yourself, so that nothing can deprive you of them, there must be "faith unfeigned." Many blessings, more than I can describe to you, surround the child in the Christian home; all the precious things we have spoken of are there. How tender the Care that is over it; where can the Subject Place be learned, as in the Christian home? Where shall we look for the firm Rule of Love and for the molded heart? Where shall we seek the Faithful Servant but in the Christian home? Where shall the hand of, the little child be so surely guided to the precious thread, the Fear of the Lord, and where does the River of Mercy so abound; where are its waters so bright, so fresh, so sweet, so near, as in the christian home?
Yet, among all these many blessings, there is one which does not come to the child only because he belongs to the Christian home; eternal life is the gift of God through Jesus Christ our Lord. God loves to give it to the child in the home, but it is His gift, and faith unfeigned must be the hand held out to receive it.
“Of all the gifts Thy love bestows,
Thou Giver of all good!
Not heaven itself a richer knows,
Than the Redeemer's blood.
Faith, too, that trusts the blood through grace,
From that same love we gain;
Else, sweetly as it suits our case,
The gift had been in vain."
Cowper.
In every Christian home, too, a sweet name is heard, which was never heard in the Israelite home of old: I think you know what name I mean. It is the name of Jesus.
“Jesus I the name I love so well,
The name I love to hear;
No saint on earth its worth can tell,
No heart conceive how dear."
Marks were to be seen upon the Israelite who obeyed the command of Deut. 11, and how much more should marks appear upon the child who enjoys the blessings of a christian home!
I will tell you of one such mark, seen upon a child. This poor child was about to lose her happy home; death and other circumstances had brought this sad result. Several people were talking round her of the children's future; some planned one thing, some another; at last the little girl was asked her thought about one of the plans, and now was seen the mark, one precious mark, and it was this: she desired the company of the people of God above every other advantage. It mattered but little to her whether the new dwelling was to be in the town or in the country, by the sea or inland, with many or with few; she had but one wish, and her answer was soon given: "I never lived with any one who did not love Jesus, and I should not like to."
God heard that little girl's wish; surely it was precious to Him that love to the Son of His love should be the one attraction to the heart of that child, and her wish was granted.
Marks were seen upon the Pharisees, but they were very different marks, and displeasing to the eyes of Jesus.
Why was Jesus displeased?
It was because, "All their works they do for to be seen of men: they make broad their phylacteries and enlarge the borders of their garments."
The phylactery worn by the Pharisee was probably his imitation of the "ribbon of blue" which God had commanded Israelites to wear on the borders of their garments. The Pharisee loved to make this ribbon very broad, that he might have a large portion of scripture written on it; but the ways of the Pharisee did not show obedience to the scriptures by which he was marked. God is displeased with imitation; God is displeased with outward show; God is displeased with what is feigned or unreal.
There were marks on Timothy; he was “well reported of” by the Christians who lived near him, and later Paul said of him, "As a son with a father he served with me in the gospel." Many years, no doubt, passed between the time when Timothy stood at his mother's side and was instructed in the holy scriptures, and the time when he stood at Paul's side and helped in the blessed work of the gospel; but the last time was the fruit of the first time; it was the fruit of his continuing in the things he had learned. Like the little girl, he loved the people of God, and when he grew to be a man he did more—he helped the servant of God. Paul calls Timothy his work-fellow. He said of him, “He worketh the work of the Lord." He sent him to teach and to comfort the Thessalonians. Timothy did more than help; besides that, he shared with the servant of God. He, too, like Paul, was imprisoned for the Lord's sake.
And how shall the child of to-day be marked? Not like the Pharisee; not by showing more knowledge than others, but by so acting that those who see him may be reminded, by his behavior, of the things which he had learned: better than seeing scripture verses embroidered on your clothes will it be to see them stamped on your ways.
Do you remember little Emma, of whom I told you in “The Subject Place"? Obedience was stamped on her ways. Love, too, of the truest kind, to her parents and to her little brother; and, at another time, trust in God was the mark on this little child. A great noise had been heard, one night, and had caused confusion in the quiet house, for it was after midnight; all the children had waked up; servants were running about; everybody seemed alarmed; during a quiet moment, Emma's clear little voice was heard, "Shall I tell you a hymn," she said, "about how God took care of the people in the Red Sea, when Pharaoh ran after them?" Very likely the bustle of that sudden waking, and running hither and thither in the night, had reminded this little girl of the night of Terror long before, of which she had heard, when God had protected His people, and she wanted to remind others that He could do it now.
Some children, thus awaked, might have given trouble, to others by crying, and it would have been natural enough; hut little Emma had a comfort that was better than tears, and she helped, instead of troubling others.
This precious mark—trust in God, and also another mark—value for the Bible, were once seen on two little boys, at a time of much trial.
These poor children were orphans; a dreadful fever had taken their dear father and mother, almost suddenly, from them, and they were left, in the great city of London, alone and in poverty; they had an uncle in Liverpool, and as soon as their parents were buried, they started in search of him. The house in which they had lived was not their own; both their beloved parents were gone; only one thing remained to them of the happy home; it was the treasure, the Bible.
Liverpool, you know, is a great way from London, so the little travelers had many long miles to walk. One evening faint and weary, they reached a town, not many miles from Liverpool, where a lodging for poor travelers had been provided; they went to the house; they knocked at the door, and were admitted. There was a rule that whoever asked for lodging in this house of charity was to be searched, or examined, as soon as he was received; the little boys were taken to a room to be searched; a tiny bundle, in the hand of each, contained all their earthly possessions, except that, in one boy's pocket, was found a Bible, well kept and neatly covered. The man who searched the boys noticed their pleasing appearance and good behavior, and felt pity for their poverty, so he said to the elder boy, "You have neither money nor food, and still some way to go; if you like to sell me this Bible, I will give you five shillings for it."
“Oh, no;" said the child, and tears rolled down his pale cheeks, “I cannot sell my Bible, not if I starve."
“I will give you six shillings," said the man.
"Oh, no," repeated the child; "it has been our comfort all the way from London; however hungry or tired we have been, when we have sat down and read a bit from it, we have felt refreshed; we cannot sell that precious book."
“But," said the man, for he thought it was want of wisdom which made the child refuse his offers, and that he himself could give better advice, "what shall you do if, when you get to Liverpool, without a penny in your pockets, your uncle will not take you in?"
I wonder what most friendless boys would have replied to such a question: this little boy gave an answer of faith, from the precious book which he refused to part with.
“My Bible tells me," he said, “that when my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up."
Which was wisest? The man of years' experience, or the child of that poor but christian home?
You may never be asked, like these little boys, to sell your Bible; and in our days Bibles are sold so cheap, that few persons would be found to offer five or six shillings for one. You may never be tempted, by hunger, to part with the book; but how often children are tempted, for a small profit or a small pleasure, to part with some truth learned from the Book. Your own heart wishes to have or to do something, or somebody asks you to do something; a word of scripture, learned in the home, comes to your mind and bids you refuse: Will you give up this word of God? Will you "sell" it, to have the proposed pleasure or profit? Oh, “Buy the truth, and SELL IT NOT." Jesus said, “Blessed are they that hear the word of God and keep it."
“Holy Bible, book divine,
Precious treasure, thou art mine
Mine, to tell me whence I came;
Mine, to show me what I am.
Mine, to chide me when I rave;
Mine, to show a Savior's love;
Mine art thou, to guide my feet;
Mine to judge; condemn, acquit:
Mine, to tell of joys to come,
And the unbeliever's doom:
Holy Bible, book divine,
Precious treasure, thou art mine."
Let me tell you a story of a little girl who kept the word of God in her memory and in her heart through nine long years, though she was without a mother to teach her and without a Bible to read. Her name was Regina; her father and Mother were natives of Germany, but long before the birth of Regina they had gone to find a home in the distant continent of America. This was many years ago, and the home was among the lonely wilds of Canada. Very lonely it must have seemed at times to the poor mother, when she found herself settled among strangers thinly scattered over many miles, and speaking a language different from her own: but the treasure was in that home, and when the husband was away at his work, the mother would often gather her four children around her and read from the precious book; many verses of the precious Word did Regina thus learn from her mother's lips. Before she was old enough to learn a verse herself or to Understand much of what was read, she constantly heard a little verse of a hymn which her mother sang she went about her daily duties; for Regina, like many other little girls, loved to run by her mother's side wherever she went. The verse was this:
“Alone, yet not alone am I,
Though in this solitude so drear,
I feel my Savior ever nigh,
He comes the weary hour to cheer.
I am with Him and He with me;
E'en here, alone I cannot be."
Perhaps no day passed, in those early years of the little girl's life, without her hearing this little song at least once from her mother's lips, and thus by degrees she learned it too. Probably she understood its meaning but dimly, but she knew that it spoke of the Savior Jesus, of whom her mother read in the book; she knew that it comforted her mother, and the thought of the nearness and the love of Christ became a very real one in her heart.
A few years thus passed away in the quiet round of home life, and perhaps the poor emigrants were getting accustomed to their new country, when suddenly a dreadful war broke out in the part where they lived, between the English and the French, who both had possessions in Canada. The Red Indians, who are natives of America, took part with the French against the English, and, as Regina's parents were living in the English part and as English subjects, the Indians were against them; and one day, while the mother was away on business, a troop of Indians came down upon the home, set everything on fire, and carried away the children.
I cannot tell you what the poor mother felt or what she did when, returning from her errand, she found the house on fire and her little ones gone; she knew well that the Indians had done it, and had most-likely taken the children, tout this was a dreadful thought.
Poor Regina, meantime, was hurried along among a number of other unhappy little children, and she, with another little captive scarce more than a baby, was given to an old Indian woman. These two poor children led a miserable life among the wild, unruly Indians; seldom was any food provided for them; the old woman was usually supplied by the hunters, for most Red Indians are clever hunters, but Regina and her little companion lived chiefly on such berries and nuts as the woods supplied. When the hunters failed to provide for the old woman they had to find berries for her also, and cruelly indeed were they beaten if, on returning to the wigwam or tent in which the old woman lived, they had not found as much as was expected. Yet among those dark woods, dark captors, and dark days, poor little Regina's heart kept one bright ray: it was the remembrance of home lessons, and sweet home talks and readings. Every day, under the forest trees, the two little girls not only fed on the nuts and berries, but their souls were fed with the verses of scripture which Regina repeated from memory and taught to her little companion; and every day, how many times I cannot tell you, but often and often, the well-known verse would be sung to the well-known tune; and oh, with what deep meaning and comfort now, in this time of sorrow, such as few little children from a happy home ever know!
“Alone, yet not alone am I,
Though in this solitude so drear,
I feel my Savior ever nigh,
He comes the weary hour to cheer.
I am with Him and He with me;
E'en here, alone I cannot be."
How little had the mother thought, when in her loneliness she had comforted herself with this verse, in how much deeper a loneliness the sweet, simple words would comfort the heart of her poor child!
The verses of scripture, the hymns, and the lessons to the little one did not only comfort Regina; they kept her from the evil around her, and though she dressed like an Indian, and though her face was burnt and weather-stained so that she looked like an Indian, and though she learned the habits and language of those around her, there was still in her heart a bright spot.
God, in His mercy, did not forget these two poor children and the many others who had shared their fate; after, the nine long years had passed, peace was restored in the land, and the English, who had then authority over the Indians, promised to pardon their past misdeeds on condition that all the captives were sent back; so, from one place and another, crowds of poor, stolen children came pouring back from among the Indian wigwams and forests into the town where the English commander was stationed. Then, messages were sent to every part of Canada, saying that all the parents who had lost their children might come to look for them.
Poor Regina and her little friend were among the captives; the little one could scarcely understand what all the change meant, but Regina wept tears of joy when again she saw a white man; and at once, the bright spot left in her heart appeared.
“Have you got the book that God gave?" she asked; it was her first question. A Bible was brought, and how great was her joy when she beheld and found she could read one of the texts she had so often repeated in the lonely forest.
Soon, another great company came pouring into the town, which must have been pretty well crowded by this time; for there were no less than 400 of the poor stolen children, and now, hundreds of sorrowing parents were coming in search of those whom they had lost so long.
Regina's mother was in that company; the father was dead, the brothers were dead. Oh! how the poor lonely mother longed again to have her little girl; but alas, the poor captives had a wild, miserable look as they stood dressed in their ragged Indian coverings. The poor mother could see no one, in that strange crowd, that reminded her of the dear little girl who had run by her side in the home long ago; she turned away weeping. One of the kind officers who had rescued the captives came to her help. The poor mother told him she could not find her child, and Regina had been too young when taken, and had been too long away to recognize her mother.
"Can you think of nothing," said the officer, "by which your child might know you?”
Yes: the mother remembered the little, verse which she had so often sung with her child, and with a trembling voice she began the first line. Regina heard it; the well-known words, the well-known tune, and then she, remembered the voice, and with a great cry she ran out of the crowd and fell weeping into her mother's arms. Regina was safe enough now, for she had found her mother. No mother came to claim her poor little companion; she clung weeping to Regina, for her little forest teacher was the only mother she could remember, and so she was taken to Regina's home, for it would have been sad indeed to leave her again among strangers, and though she had not been able to teach Regina, she had been very useful to her; for all alone, the elder child might not have had the heart to repeat the verses and lessons as she did when teaching her little friend.
We have spoken now of many precious things connected with the christian home, the sure Foundation, the two treasures, the precious promises, the blessings, of those in the home, and the marks on those who come from it, and yet this is not all: there is yet another thing which we might call the atmosphere of the home—It is prayer.
Do you know what the atmosphere is?
We cannot see it, we cannot hold it in our hands, and yet without it, we could hear nothing and we could see nothing, neither could life be sustained; but we are not without it. God has graciously spread it all around us, and it reaches high above our heads. This is like prayer: the home could not go on without prayer; it reaches up far above the home, into heaven itself, and yet it follows and surrounds the child who belongs to the home, wherever he may be. In heaven the prayers of the people of God are precious: the Apostle John, in a vision of heaven, saw golden vials full of odors, and they were “the prayers of saints."
But though prayer is so precious and so wonderful, it is very simple. Prayer is just the cry from the heart to God. The Holy Spirit carries up the cry to God, and God hears it, for the sake of Jesus Christ. Prayer needs no long speeches or great words; the poor woman prayed who fell at the feet of Jesus saying, “Lord, help me." The publican prayed who said, “God be merciful to me a sinner." A child may pray. In your Bible you may read these words: "Let me hear thy voice betimes in the morning, for sweet is thy voice." Yes, prayer is very simple, but it is also a very holy and solemn thing: it is a very solemn thing to kneel down and ask God to look upon you and hear you.
“‘Tis not enough to bend the knee
And words of prayer to say;
The heart must with the lips agree,
Or else we do not pray.
I might as well kneel down
To gods of wood and stone,
As offer to the living God
A prayer of words alone."
But the child who has a wish or a want in his heart need never fear to tell that wish or that want to God, in his own simple, poor little words—
"Though in glory He is seated,
E'en the softest word He hears,
And the voice of little children
Soundeth sweetly in His ears."
Yet another thing may be found in the home, though it does not belong there. I mean shadow. Shadows do not belong to the home, and one kind of shadow has no business there at all: I mean the sad shadow of sin. Shadows are of different kinds. Have you ever seen a corner under a high wall or behind a high house; a corner that is always shadowed, always dark, always damp and cold? No one likes to sit in such a shadow as that; it is like the shadow of an Ishmael, an unruly, naughty child in the home. We will leave this shadow quickly. The other shadow is the shadow of leafy trees: the light may be dim, the brightness shaded, the air cool, but, as the leaves move hither and thither to the touch of summer winds, you find all the golden sunshine streaming between the shadows. This shadow is like sorrow, for sorrow often enters the Christian home. God sends it there to do His own work, but it does not take away the brightness or the light or the blessing from the home.
A little boy, whose name, Leigh Richmond, was well-known when he grew up, found a sad deep shadow fall suddenly upon his home. He was then six years old, and was one morning playing on a stone pathway, close under the house in which he lived, when he saw a dreadful sight. His little brother two years of age, who had been looking out at him from an upper window, suddenly reached too far, and fell upon the stones at his feet. The poor child picked up the little one and gave him to his mother, who had run out on hearing an alarm; the poor baby's head had been terribly hurt by the stones, but he remained for many hours in a half dying condition. The little boy never forgot that day of sorrow, nor the way in which his mother spent it. He had hold of her hand most of the day, and many, many times he knelt by her side, while she poured out her heart to God. She said, "If I give up prayer for five minutes I am ready to sink, but when I pray, God comforts me. His will be done." Another time she turned to her little son and said, “Help, me to pray, my child." Christ says, “Suffer the little children to come unto me." He forbids them not. This little boy of six hardly knew what to say in such a moment of distress, but he never forgot the patience which he saw in his mother that day, nor her trust in God; and he too learned a lesson, which lasted him through life, of the value of prayer.
Thus light, sweet heavenly light, shone through this heavy shadow of sorrow: the poor baby got a happy portion, for he went to Him who gathers the lambs with His arms and carries them in His bosom; the little brother's heart received a precious mark which never left it; the poor mother found heavenly streams of comfort and healing, and from her broken heart went up the sweet fragrance of prayer and trust.
Surely, if priests and Levites of old were to stand every morning in the house of the Lord, to thank and to praise Him, and likewise at even, the Lord desires to hear the sound of prayer and praise from the Christian home. The house of God is now no building made with men's hands, it is the company of all those who call on the name of the Lord. God the Holy Spirit dwells in this house. What a blessed place to be found in! The Christian family and the Christian home are meant by God to be pictures to our hearts of His own family, and of the happy home above.
“God has a family on earth
Of daughters and of sons;
His Holy Spirit gave them birth,
They are His little ones.
He watches over them for good,
And hears their feeblest cries;
He gives them shelter, clothes, and food,
Yea, all their wants supplies.
He knows their weak and tender frame,
Pities their griefs and fears;
And calls them every one by name,
And wipes away their tears.
To what the Lamb of God has done
They all their blessings owe;
'Tis for the sake of His dear Son
The Father loves them so."