Rest

 •  4 min. read  •  grade level: 5
 
THE following lines are from the pen of a young, Christian, one who has but recently found Jesus for her own Saviour. Dear young friends, may you be stirred also to live for Christ, to speak of Christ, and to spend and be spent for Him. Give to Him your youth and fervor; devote to His service the brightest days of life. Remember that you will soon behold Him in heaven. What will be His word of welcome to you then?
Oh! how I longed to go to Him—to Him
Who died for me! I had no fear of death,
But only longed to go to Him and rest—
To rest far, far away with those I'd loved
Awhile on earth: no toil, no care, no fear,
No labor, only rest, and rest with Him,
In whose fair presence His beloved ones
Find peace, and joy, and life for evermore!
“Oh! take me, God, unto Thyself," I cried;
“Oh! take me soon "—and even as I spoke
A weariness fell on me, and I slept.
And as I slept, I dreamed; and lo! I sailed
In a lone bark, across a golden sea,
Towards the bright shores of an unknown land.
No sun, no moon was there, and yet was all
Light—lighter far than day. And as I looked
Methought I saw a city, crystal clear,
Like unto purest gold, with jasper walls,
And gates of pearl. Soon I had landed there,
And stood rejoicing on the peaceful shore.
I knew that this was heaven, God's own throne,
And gratefully I fell upon my knees,
And thanked my God that I had seen this sight—
That He at last had brought me safely home
Into His promised rest. I raised my eyes
That I might look again, and, lo! One stood
And gazed on me with love unspeakable.
It was the Lord, the "altogether lovely,"
"The chiefest" and the best “among ten thousand."
He spoke to me—He spoke so tenderly,
I held my breath to listen, as He said
That all I saw before me, all was mine,
And here at last I might remain and rest
For evermore. But, then, He turned and looked
Into my bark-my empty bark, and sighed.
I grieved that He should sigh, and wondered much.
"Though thou hast loved Me well, dear child,"
He said,
"Thou hast not loved to tell thy fellow men
Of Me, that they might know what I for them
Have suffered. Thus full might have been thy bark
With a rich freight of living souls so brought
To Me." Then I wept, and could not answer.
I knew I had been selfish-had not cared
To tell my joy to others. I had longed
To go to Him myself and be at rest;
I cared not for, nor thought of other souls.
He looked at me, and once again He spoke
In accents tender: “Child, thou lovest Me?
Then wilt thou for My sake renounce this rest
For a short space of time, and go to earth
Once more, and there relate to weary souls,
Tossing, as thou hast done, on life's rough waves,
What a safe haven thou hast found? Bid them
To share thy bark and also come to Me.
My hand shall guide thy course, My word shall
hold
In check the surging billows, and My light
Shall gleam across the waters unto thee.
Thou hast no cause for fear, so wilt thou go
And work for Me?"
“Yea, Lord, I'll go for Thee
Whither Thou wilt, for Thou wilt strengthen me
With might, to speak and work for Thee, and help
To bring a few more wanderers to their home,
A few more heavy-laden ones to rest."
I stepped with joy into my little bark,
Thankful that I might do some little thing
For Him who loved me so and died for me.
The heavenly city faded from my sight:
I could no longer see His form, but felt
That He would ever care for me, and guide
Me safely home, at length when He should see
That rest was needful. I could trust His love.
I woke, and found that it was but a dream,
Only a dream; but still I knew that He,
My Lord, had sent it me, and I resolved
That through His grace and strength I'd fight
for Him—
Fight with His foes, and capture from their grasp
Those bound in fetters—chains of sin—and help
To set them free in the sunshine of His love,
To lead them to His feet.