Evening and Morning
By Charles
Haddon Spurgeon
April 12
Morning
"My heart is like wax; it is melted in the
midst of my bowels."—Psalm 22:14.
Our blessed Lord
experienced a terrible sinking and melting of soul. "The spirit of a man
will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear?" Deep
depression of spirit is the most grievous of all trials; all besides is as
nothing. Well might the suffering Saviour cry to His
God, "Be not far from me," for above all other seasons a man needs
his God when his heart is melted within him because of heaviness. Believer,
come near the cross this morning, and humbly adore the King of glory as having
once been brought far lower, in mental distress and inward anguish, than any
one among us; and mark His fitness to become a faithful High Priest, who can be
touched with a feeling of our infirmities. Especially let those of us whose sadness springs directly from the withdrawal of a
present sense of our Father's love, enter into near and intimate communion with
Jesus. Let us not give way to despair, since through this dark room the Master
has passed before us. Our souls may sometimes long and faint, and thirst even
to anguish, to behold the light of the Lord's countenance: at such times let us
stay ourselves with the sweet fact of the sympathy of our great High Priest.
Our drops of sorrow may well be forgotten in the ocean of His griefs; but how high ought our
love to rise! Come in, O strong and deep love of Jesus, like the sea at the
flood in spring tides, cover all my powers, drown all my sins, wash out all my
cares, lift up my earth-bound soul, and float it right up to my Lord's feet,
and there let me lie, a poor broken shell, washed up by His love, having no
virtue or value; and only venturing to whisper to Him that if He will put His
ear to me, He will hear within my heart faint echoes of the vast waves of His
own love which have brought me where it is my delight to lie, even at His feet
for ever.
Evening
"The king's garden."—Nehemiah 3:15.
Mention of the king's
garden by Nehemiah brings to mind the paradise which
the King of kings prepared for Adam. Sin has utterly ruined that fair abode of
all delights, and driven forth the children of men to till the ground, which
yields thorns and briers unto them. My soul, remember the fall, for it was thy
fall. Weep much because the Lord of love was so shamefully ill-treated
by the head of the human race, of which thou art a member, as undeserving as
any. Behold how dragons and demons dwell on this fair earth, which once was a
garden of delights.
See
yonder another King's garden, which the King waters with His bloody
sweat—Gethsemane, whose bitter herbs are sweeter far to renewed
souls than even Eden's luscious fruits. There the mischief of the serpent in
the first garden was undone: there the curse was lifted from earth, and borne
by the woman's promised seed. My soul, bethink thee much of the agony and the
passion; resort to the garden of the olive-press, and view thy great Redeemer
rescuing thee from thy lost estate. This is the garden of gardens indeed,
wherein the soul may see the guilt of sin and the power of love, two sights
which surpass all others.
Is there no other King's
garden? Yes, my heart, thou art, or shouldst
be such. How do the flowers flourish? Do any choice fruits appear? Does the
King walk within, and rest in the bowers of my spirit? Let me see that the
plants are trimmed and watered, and the mischievous foxes hunted out. Come,
Lord, and let the heavenly wind blow at Thy coming, that the spices of Thy
garden may flow abroad. Nor must I forget the King's garden of the church.
O Lord, send prosperity unto it. Rebuild her walls, nourish her plants, ripen
her fruits, and from the huge wilderness, reclaim the barren waste, and make
thereof "a King's garden."