How are you painting it? For the light of time or eternity, for God’s eye or man’s, for heaven or for earth?
Some time ago, I stood before a masterpiece of Landseer’s, representing a shaggy brown mountain pony, lying on the grass. I examined it closely, and it appeared nothing but a mass of the roughest daubs and washes. On retiring about twenty feet, the daubs and washes all disappeared, and the effect was perfect; the rough hair actually seemed to stand out from the pony’s back, so lifelike was the picture. It is therefore most important to look at a painting from the right distance.
If I order a work from an artist, he must know whether it is a fine cabinet picture, that will bear the closest scrutiny, or a large painting for a gallery that is wanted. In the one case he will paint in every detail most carefully and minutely; in the other, he will lay on his colors boldly and broadly, for effect from a distance.
Now for the application. We are each filling in the canvas of our lives, and as soon as the picture is completed it will be passed in review before the judgment seat of Christ before it is hung in the courts above. By the light of that throne it will be examined closely, stroke by stroke, nothing will escape.
Many a Christian’s life makes a very satisfactory picture before his fellow men, that will look, alas, sadly different on that great day before the throne.
Paul felt all this, and painted his picture for God, not for man. “We are made manifest unto God” ... . “but with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged of you .... but he that judgeth me is the Lord.” Such words as these tell us of the light in which the artist worked, and the eye for which he painted.
A man must paint his picture in the light in which it is to be shown. If it is to be viewed by day, it must be painted by day; if by gaslight, it must be painted by night; and if our life picture is to be viewed by God, it must be painted in the light of His presence. Do we not all work too much in the light of man’s day for present praise from one another?
If we live for man’s approval we shall probably get it, and the applause and esteem we covet will be ours; but, remember those solemn words, thrice repeated by the Lord when speaking of the Pharisees of old: “Verily I say unto you they have their reward;” and the sentence pronounced upon, all who thus seek the praise of men, “Ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven” (Matt. 6:1, 2, 5, 161Take heed that ye do not your alms before men, to be seen of them: otherwise ye have no reward of your Father which is in heaven. 2Therefore when thou doest thine alms, do not sound a trumpet before thee, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and in the streets, that they may have glory of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. (Matthew 6:1‑2)
5And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. (Matthew 6:5)
16Moreover when ye fast, be not, as the hypocrites, of a sad countenance: for they disfigure their faces, that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. (Matthew 6:16))
Face the question, beloved reader. You must paint your picture for time or eternity; which then will you work for? Oh seek, as you cover the daily portion of your life’s canvas, to lay on every stroke in the light of the coming judgment seat, or better still, let God guide the brush, and move and direct it as He will, for only as He works in you, “to will and to do of His good pleasure”, will your life meet His approval.
Nothing but the work of God will suit the eye of God. Even in natural things man’s most perfect work is full of flaws. None that have ever seen under the microscope the finest fabric that can be produced, compared with such an object as a butterfly’s wing (where the very grains of dust are seen to be rows of the most beautiful miniature feathers, each one hanging from a crystal peg,) can ever forget the difference between the works of man and of God. Let one thing be understood, you may paint your picture to suit man’s present night or God’s eternal day, but you cannot paint for both.
One solemn thought remains. We do not know the size of our canvas. Yours may be nearly covered, and you know it not. Oh, seek then from this day to live and walk and work for the eye of God alone, that there may be at least some strokes that will stand the light of the judgment seat of Christ. The truly spiritual eye will discern your object, and approve of it, and your eternal reward will be sure.
What a time of surprise that day will be! A man’s name may be on the lips of thousands as he began painting his life picture for popularity. Discovering his mistake in time (it may be,) he finished his life for the eye of God. What a picture that will be in heaven – One-half all daubs and colors that will not stand the light, and the other (unheard of by man) radiant with the beauty of Christ that will all be shown out there. Oh, may this little paper wake up every reader to live for God and for eternity in His fear and for His praise alone.
Alone with Thee, O Master, where
The light of earthly glory dies;
Misunderstood by all, I dare
To do what thine own heart will prize.
Such be my path through life down here,
One long close lonely walk with Thee,
Until past every doubt and fear
Thy face in light above I see.
Confidence
Oh! that my bark were safe on shore,
Lodged in the port where Jesus is;
Where neither winds nor waters roar,
And all the tides are tides of bliss.
But while my floating bark shall ride
And beat on life’s tempestuous sea,
My dangerous course may Jesus guide,
May He my constant pilot be!
Though surges swell as mountains high-
Though death and dangers threaten me-
Though sleep may seem to close Thine eye,
Stay faithless from waking Thee.
On the dark wave may I behold
Thy Spirit form, my Lord Most High,
And with these words my heart unfold,
“Be not afraid; ‘tis I! ‘tis I!”
Thus have I found that blessed shore-
That port whose tides are only bliss;
And though the winds and waters roar,
Know Him, my Pilot and my Peace.