The Treasury of David
by Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892)
by Charles Haddon Spurgeon (1834-1892)
David has found peace, and rising from his knees he
begins to sweep his house of the wicked. Repentance is a practical thing. It is
not enough to bemoan the desecration of the temple of the heart; we must
scourge out the buyers and sellers, and overturn the tables of the money
changers. A pardoned sinner will hate the sins which cost the Saviour his
blood. Grace and sin are quarrelsome neighbors, and one or the other must go to
the wall. For the Lord hathheard the voice of my weeping. What a fine Hebraism, and what grand poetry
it is in English! Is there a voice in weeping? In what language does it utter
its meaning? Why, in that universal tongue which is known and understood in all
the earth, and even in heaven above. Weeping is the eloquence of sorrow. It is
an unstammering orator, needing no interpreter, but understood of all. Is it
not sweet to believe that our tears are understood even when words fail? Let us
learn to think of tears as liquid prayers, and of weeping as a constant
dropping of importunate intercession which will wear its way right surely into
the very heart of mercy, despite the stony difficulties which obstruct the way.
My God, I will weep when I cannot plead, for thou hearest the voice of my
weeping.
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