1. Unto thee, O Lord. See how the holy soul flies to its God like a dove to its cote. When
the stormwinds are out, the Lord’s vessels put about and make for their
well-remembered harbor of refuge. What a mercy that the Lord will condescend to
hear our cries in time of trouble, although we may have almost forgotten him in
our hours of fancied prosperity. Do I lift up my soul. It is but mockery
to lift up the hands and the eyes unless we also bring our souls into our
devotions. True prayer may be described as the soul rising from earth to have
fellowship with heaven; it is taking a journey upon Jacob’s ladder, leaving our
cares and fears at the foot, and meeting with a covenant God at the top. Very
often the soul cannot rise, she has lost her wings, and is heavy and
earth-bound; more like a burrowing mole than a soaring eagle. At such dull
seasons we must not give over prayer, but must, by God’s assistance, exert all
our powers to lift up our hearts. But what a lift it has sometimes proved! With
all our tugging and straining we have been utterly defeated, until our
Saviour’s love has displayed its omnipotent attractions, and then our hearts
have gone up like flames of fire.
PREVIOUS
NEXT
No comments:
Post a Comment