WHERE, we wonder, are those who, thirteen years ago, were little children of from eight to twelve years of age, and who wrote to us answering our Bible questions, many of whom promised so happily for eternity? Some, we know, are in paradise; some are earnest workers for the Lord who loves them; but some, we fear, have failed in their early promise, and are going with the stream―Where?
“Continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of” (2 Tim. 3:1414But continue thou in the things which thou hast learned and hast been assured of, knowing of whom thou hast learned them; (2 Timothy 3:14)) we would say to our young Christian readers. Go on in these things. Be not drawn away from heavenly realities. Satan will offer to sell you anything in this world’s fair, but you will live to find you carried home a sorry purchase, and parted with your peace to get it. Life is short at the longest; waste not yours by buying bitter experiences. Though all things are new to the eye of him who has not seen them before, there is nothing really new under the sun. Dear young Christians, the only happy way to go through the world is to live for Christ; the only joyful way of spending time is to live for eternity. Be you out and out for Christ.
“Be instant in season, out of season”
(2 Tim. 4:22Preach the word; be instant in season, out of season; reprove, rebuke, exhort with all longsuffering and doctrine. (2 Timothy 4:2)), we would say to our readers whose live is no longer that of springtime. As years increase, responsibilities accumulate, cares grow, labors multiply. The expectation of younger days that middle age would bring more time for meditation and for serving God, is found to be but a dream. It is a stern fact that numbers of the earnest young men and women of some ten or fifteen years ago are now like heavy-laden ships that can scarce rise over the waves. A parent’s first concern is the home, and too often the cares of the business, and the lusts of other things entering in, choke the word and it becometh unfruitful.
When John Berridge was called up before his bishop for his zeal in preaching Christ, he said, “My lord, I preach but on two occasions.” The small number of occasions charmed his worldly superior, who asked him what they were. “In season and out of season,” said Berridge. We are not all preachers, and there was but one John Berridge, but let our practical Christianity be merely on these two occasions and we shall do well.
“While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen” (2 Cor. 4:1818While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal. (2 Corinthians 4:18)), shall be our word to those of our readers who are in the autumn of their lives! And who can tell which of us is nearest to the edge of the sickle! However, to all the Lord is near, and for all the day of grace is hastening to its close. Poor Christians are they who are looking at the things which are seen! Each passing hour notes a fresh change in life’s shifting scenes. How many unexpected changes have our eyes witnessed this year! Every wave has a family likeness to its fellows, but each is different from the others―so it is with our trials and our difficulties; but look not, mariner for glory, on the waves breaking before or rolling under your vessel, look at the harbor lights. Seamen steer not by the waves―though a small vessel must learn how to creep round the biggest seas if possible―they steer by some object firm and stable. So, look not at the unstable things which are seen, if you would surmount life’s trials, but at the things which are eternal, which are firm and abiding.
How the excitements of the hour, or the mental perturbations of the day, distract our souls from eternity! Oh, look at the unseen things! Faith is long-sighted; it beholds objects afar off; it pierces farther than the telescope; it reaches right on into eternity. As the sight of the well-known hills surrounding our home infuses freshness into our steps, so the sights of glory bestow new zeal on our flagging spirits. The eye is a wonder-working power, yet the eye does nothing save take in the sight of what is before us. But the sight is so wonderful that a man is no more the same when he beholds the glad object before his eye. The eternal things, when seen by faith, make us regard the trials of life as the waves over which the vessel either bounds or struggles to her rest.