(Continued from June Number.)
ON passing through the wards, I went by mistake into one which it was against the rules of the institution to visit. I saw all around me very sad faces, as well as suffering bodies. Hanging on the wails were pictures of our Saviour and crucifixes.
I addressed one of the sufferers, longing to bring the comfort of His presence into their midst, and desiring simply to speak of Him, but a cold “You are not of our persuasion, miss,” was all I received in reply.
Of what value is the shadow without the substance, the cold, lifeless assent without the living reality? I left the ward, having learned afresh the blessed position of those who know Christ in reality from the striking contrast I had seen. In the one case the sufferers might look upon the outward emblem of His precious death on the cross, of which the many crosses round the walls were a sign, yet apparently knew not that peace which He made through the blood of His cross, nor the rest and joy which He imparts. The others were sitting at His feet, Himself their all in all; having known Him as revealed in His word, they were awaiting that home which He had prepared for them.
Returning to the wards of which I have already spoken, I went to a child with sightless eyeballs and whose face was veiled. She said to me, “O, how good the Lord was, not to take my sight until I had learned the whole of Ephesians by heart.” As I listened, I thought of the language of the psalmist, “Thy words were found and I did eat them, yea, they were unto me the joy and rejoicing of my heart.”
Another, suffering from a form of paralysis, was so full of joy, that her poor frame could not be kept quiet. Yes, those afflicted ones were truly sad, suffering objects to gaze at,
“Vessels of the world’s despising,
Vessels poor, and mean, and base,
Bearing wealth God’s heart is prizing,
Glory from Christ’s blessed face.”
Each time I visited the hospital, I heard the same voice of joy and thanksgiving. When last I called to say goodbye, upon leaving for England, the young woman to whom I have referred, who was used as the Lord’s messenger to the tried lady, was approaching her end.
I remarked, “I am sorry to hear you are in so much pain.”
“Sorry,” she repeated in a tone of reproach, “sorry to know I am nearing the golden shores—nearing the golden shores.” Yes, faith was almost lost in sight, and like one of old, she saw the heavens opened.
Child of God, how have you learned Christ? Are you living in close intimacy with Himself, proving the child-like faith, that rests unquestioningly on His word, and knows all must be well? Or, as you read the account of this satisfied one, do you long for closer communion, to be more entirely shut up to Himself? Let me tell you He desires to have you living thus in the secret of His presence, and He will as surely fulfill your desires as He did those of whom I write, causing your heart to burn within you while He talks with you by the way. Should your path, like theirs, be lonely and tried, or suffering, Jesus will be with you every step of the way, and in having Him you have all.
“Oh to be but emptier, lowlier,
Mean, unnoticed, and unknown,
And to God, a vessel holier,
Filled with Christ, and Christ alone;
Naught of earth to cloud the glory,
Naught of self the light to dim,
Telling forth His wondrous story,
Emptied, to be filled with Him.”