I trust I may never forget one lesson I learned of God some years ago; and, as He who takes to Himself (and O, how rightly!) the title of “the Father of mercies and the God of all comfort,” comforts those that are in tribulation, not only that they may be comforted themselves, but that they may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, by the comfort wherewith they themselves have been comforted of God, I will just jot it down, hoping that it may be used to help and comfort others.
Many years ago, and not long before being called to pass through a very heavy trial and sorrow, I went to L. While there, I went one evening to where I knew a Bible reading was to be. During the meeting the old brother in whose house the meeting was held, made the following remark (I forget now what the connection was), “We often speak of tracing things up to God’s hand, but do we give His Heart credit for moving His hand.”
I was much struck by the remark at the time (little knowing what was before me), and my mind reverted to it occasionally, and I saw that the hand was but the servant of the heart, even in ordinary things. For instance, if a thief steals anything, the heart has first coveted it, and the hand is, merely the agent that appropriates what the heart longs for.
Well, I returned to my home, and about six weeks later, one very dear to me was taken rather suddenly. In my sorrow (and deep it was), the above mentioned remark came before me. Others spoke about so and so having been the means of bringing the infection. But to me (and I thank God for the grace given) there were no second causes to be looked at. No, to God Himself I must trace it, and not to His hand only, but to His heart. What, His heart? Yes, the same heart that gave Jesus. O, the exquisite sweetness and infinite preciousness of the thought were inexpressible! And I knew what it was to have God Himself wiping away the tears from my eyes.
Another incident comes before me which I will mention as being in every way in keeping with what has gone before. A young sister in the Lord had just lost her babe, her first-born, and was, as might be supposed in deep grief. An old brother who knew her well wrote to her. In the letter was the following (as nearly as I can call to mind), “May you know the joy of having Jesus wipe away the tears from your eyes, and know that it is more blessed to have Him wipe away your tears, than to have no tears to wipe away.”
In conclusion I would add that I have found in my own experience the truth of what I once heard another say, namely, “There is no bitterness, even in the deepest sorrow, unless the will is at work. It is the working of the will that brings the bitterness.”