Evening and Morning
By Charles Haddon Spurgeon
May 20
Morning
"Marvellous lovingkindness."—Psalm 17:7.
When we give our hearts
with our alms, we give well, but we must often plead to a failure in this
respect. Not so our Master and our Lord. His favours
are always performed with the love of His heart. He does not send to us the
cold meat and the broken pieces from the table of His luxury, but He dips our
morsel in His own dish, and seasons our provisions with the spices of His
fragrant affections. When He puts the golden tokens of His grace into our
palms, He accompanies the gift with such a warm pressure of our hand, that the
manner of His giving is as precious as the boon itself. He will come into our
houses upon His errands of kindness, and He will not act as some austere
visitors do in the poor man's cottage, but He sits by our side, not despising
our poverty, nor blaming our weakness. Beloved, with what smiles does He speak!
What golden sentences drop from His gracious lips! What embraces of affection
does He bestow upon us! If He had but given us farthings, the way of His giving
would have gilded them; but as it is, the costly alms are set in a golden
basket by His pleasant carriage. It is impossible to doubt the sincerity of His
charity, for there is a bleeding heart stamped upon the face of all His
benefactions. He giveth liberally and upbraideth not. Not one hint that we are burdensome to Him;
not one cold look for His poor pensioners; but He rejoices in His mercy, and
presses us to His bosom while He is pouring out His life for us. There is a
fragrance in His spikenard which nothing but His heart
could produce; there is a sweetness in His honey-comb which could not be in it
unless the very essence of His soul's affection had been mingled with it. Oh! the rare communion which such singular heartiness effecteth! May we continually taste and know the
blessedness of it!
Evening
"I drew them with cords of a man, with bands
of love."—Hosea 11:4.
Our heavenly Father often
draws us with the cords of love; but ah! how backward we are to run towards Him! How slowly do we
respond to His gentle impulses! He draws us to exercise a more simple faith
in Him; but we have not yet attained to Abraham's confidence; we do not
leave our worldly cares with God, but, like Martha, we cumber ourselves with
much serving. Our meagre faith brings leanness into
our souls; we do not open our mouths wide, though God has promised to fill
them. Does He not this evening draw us to trust Him? Can we not hear Him say,
"Come, My child, and trust Me. The veil is rent;
enter into My presence, and approach boldly to the
throne of My grace. I am worthy of thy fullest confidence, cast thy cares on
Me. Shake thyself from the dust of thy cares, and put on thy beautiful garments
of joy." But, alas! though called with tones of
love to the blessed exercise of this comforting grace, we will not come. At
another time He draws us to closer communion with Himself. We have been
sitting on the doorstep of God's house, and He bids us advance into the
banqueting hall and sup with Him, but we decline the honour.
There are secret rooms not yet opened to us; Jesus invites us to enter them,
but we hold back. Shame on our cold hearts! We are but poor lovers of our sweet
Lord Jesus, not fit to be His servants, much less to be His brides, and yet He
hath exalted us to be bone of His bone and flesh of His flesh, married to Him
by a glorious marriage-covenant. Herein is love! But it is love
which takes no denial. If we obey not the gentle drawings of His
love, He will send affliction to drive us into closer intimacy with Himself.
Have us nearer He will. What foolish children we are to refuse those bands of
love, and so bring upon our backs that scourge of small cords, which Jesus
knows how to use!