Evening and Morning
By Charles Haddon Spurgeon
January 14
Morning
"Mighty
to save."—Isaiah 63:1.
By the words "to
save" we understand the whole of the great work of salvation, from the
first holy desire onward to complete sanctification. The words are multum in parro:
indeed, here is all mercy in one word. Christ is not only "mighty to
save" those who repent, but He is able to make men repent. He will carry
those to heaven who believe; but He is, moreover, mighty to give men new hearts
and to work faith in them. He is mighty to make the man who hates holiness love
it, and to constrain the despiser of His name to bend the knee before Him. Nay,
this is not all the meaning, for the divine power is equally seen in the
after-work. The life of a believer is a series of miracles wrought by "the
Mighty God." The bush burns, but is not consumed. He is mighty to keep His
people holy after He has made them so, and to preserve them in his fear and
love until he consummates their spiritual existence in heaven. Christ's might
doth not lie in making a believer and then leaving him to shift for himself;
but He who begins the good work carries it on; He who imparts the first germ of
life in the dead soul, prolongs the divine existence, and strengthens it until
it bursts asunder every bond of sin, and the soul leaps from earth, perfected
in glory. Believer, here is encouragement. Art thou praying for some beloved
one? Oh, give not up thy prayers, for Christ is "mighty to save." You
are powerless to reclaim the rebel, but your Lord is Almighty. Lay hold on that
mighty arm, and rouse it to put forth its strength. Does your own case trouble
you? Fear not, for His strength is sufficient for you. Whether to begin with
others, or to carry on the work in you, Jesus is "mighty to save;"
the best proof of which lies in the fact that He has saved you. What a
thousand mercies that you have not found Him mighty to destroy!
Evening
"Beginning
to sink, he cried, saying, Lord, save me."—Matthew 14:30.
Sinking times are praying
times with
the Lord's servants. Peter neglected prayer at starting upon his venturous
journey, but when he began to sink his danger made him a suppliant, and his cry
though late was not too late. In our hours of bodily pain and mental anguish,
we find ourselves as naturally driven to prayer as the wreck is driven upon the
shore by the waves. The fox hies to its hole for
protection; the bird flies to the wood for shelter; and even so the tried
believer hastens to the mercy seat for safety. Heaven's great harbour of refuge is All-prayer; thousands of
weather-beaten vessels have found a haven there, and the moment a storm comes
on, it is wise for us to make for it with all sail.
Short prayers are long
enough.
There were but three words in the petition which Peter
gasped out, but they were sufficient for his purpose. Not length but strength
is desirable. A sense of need is a mighty teacher of brevity. If our prayers
had less of the tail feathers of pride and more wing they would be all the
better. Verbiage is to devotion as chaff to the wheat. Precious things lie in
small compass, and all that is real prayer in many a long address might have
been uttered in a petition as short as that of Peter.
Our extremities are the
Lord's opportunities. Immediately a keen sense of danger forces an anxious cry from us the
ear of Jesus hears, and with Him ear and heart go together, and the hand does
not long linger. At the last moment we appeal to our Master, but His swift hand
makes up for our delays by instant and effectual action. Are we nearly engulfed
by the boisterous waters of affliction? Let us then lift up our souls unto our Saviour, and we may rest assured that He will not suffer us
to perish. When we can do nothing Jesus can do all things; let us enlist His
powerful aid upon our side, and all will be well.