The Wishing Chair

 •  5 min. read  •  grade level: 7
 
“WISHING you a happy New Year!”
Such is the expression on the lips of thousands on the first day of a new year. Alas! how few who utter the kindly words really know the source of true happiness!
Last New Year’s day thousands received New Year’s wishes. Now, as we glance in retrospect at the year that has passed, the opening hours of which promised so much, we are prone to sigh—how many hopes dashed to pieces! how many pleasures with a bitter sting underneath! how many bright visions of happiness, like th deceitful mirage of the desert, proved phantoms of the imagination! Yes, and many a one, dear to us, is now where decay and corruption feed!
Let us remember that that which hath been shall be, that everything here is passing and uncertain. Only for those who love God there is a bright future, and it is theirs to say, “Come, Lord Jesus.” Can you, dear reader, say, “If this year should be my last on earth, I have glory with Christ forever in an eternal home, where all is unfading and unchanging bliss?” If not, then let me warn you that wishes for happiness are vain, hopes a delusion, and the pleasures of sin are only for a season at most, and the end—the worm that never dieth, and the fire that shall never be quenched.
Solomon, with his ivory palaces, his pools, and his gold, sighed, “All is vanity, and vexation of spirit;” Paul, chained and in prison and suffering persecution, rejoiced, for his source of joy was outside this world, one which the world could neither give nor take away.
If my reader has learned the deceitful character of this world, and if his New Year’s wish for happiness is prompted by more than mere fashion, and is for that which is real and satisfying, will he listen to the following simple story?
A gentleman was visiting the immediate neighborhood of the well-known “Giants’ Causeway,” in the north of Ireland. A farmer kindly offered him his house to rest in, and transact some business, and, as he had also to inspect the seaboard, the farmer, who knew that part of the coast well, offered to act as guide, a proposal to which the stranger gladly assented. They had to pass over the marvelous “Causeway,” with its numerous objects of interest. Having reached a spot known as the “Wishing Chair,” the guide said, “Now, you must sit in that chair and wish. It is the custom with people who come for the first time to take their seat there; they take their place down there, and wish for all they desire.”
“The chair is perfectly useless to me,” said the visitor.
“Useless! What do you mean?” inquired his kind host.
“For the simple reason that I have nothing to wish for. I have all that heart could wish already.”
Amazed at the reply, the farmer exclaimed: “Well, well! that’s a great thing to say, surely. It must be fine to be like that.”
“Yes; indeed, you may well say so. But when you learn that I have all that God could desire for my blessing, you will understand how foolish and stupid it would be for me to follow your customs in the ‘Chair.’ Listen, my friend! I was a sinner, only fit for hell, and God gave His Son to die for my sins, and bring me to Himself without my sins. His God is my God, His Father is my Father, whose whole heart is revealed to me in that blessed One, the Son of His love—who Himself is coming, I know not how soon, to bring me to be with Himself in that Father’s house, without a spot or stain, in a body of glory, like His own. And my eternal blessing will be to be with Him thus and like Him, as He shall see of the fruit of the travail of His soul, and shall be satisfied.”
As they retraced their steps to the farmer’s house, the visitor asked his companion how it was with him; whether he knew this precious Christ, and what he thought about Him and His perfect work which He wrought on the cross for God’s satisfaction and glory.
The poor man owned himself a sinner, and admitted that if God were to judge him righteously, He must send him to hell, but he was not yet prepared to trust Christ alone for his soul’s salvation.
While pressing him to take God at His word, the house was reached. The farmer’s wife had tea ready, and all in the house sat down to the social meal. Addressing the good woman, whose thoughtful hospitality had provided for him, the stranger related what had passed between her husband and himself, It was plain that she was intensely interested. Her whole soul was moved as she heard what was said of the perfection of the work of Christ, and of the satisfaction which, by the grace of God, their guest had found in His Person. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “that is what I have been wishing for, for years. I never understood it like that before. Now I see it. Thank God for sending you here.”
Have you, my reader, such a craving as had this lady? Jesus says, “If any man thirst, let him come unto Me, and drink,” and assures all who trust Him that “he that cometh to Him shall never hunger, and he that believeth in Him shall never thirst.” Oh! look to Christ for happiness; it is found nowhere else. Look to His work only for peace; vain is the search elsewhere.
We desire a truly happy New Year for you, beloved reader—yes, that eternal happiness may be yours. It is only as the heart makes Christ its choice, and says, “Christ for me,” that there can be real happiness.
Christ first as Saviour; Christ next as Master; then Christ as the object in life and the goal to be reached. To those who look for Him shall He appear before long to consummate their joy in endless glory,
H. N.