Evening and Morning
By Charles Haddon Spurgeon
February 10
Morning
"I know
how to abound."—Philippians 4:12.
There are many
who know "how to be abased" who have not learned "how to
abound." When they are set upon the top of a pinnacle their heads grow
dizzy, and they are ready to fall. The Christian far oftener disgraces his
profession in prosperity than in adversity. It is a dangerous thing to be
prosperous. The crucible of adversity is a less severe trial to the Christian
than the fining-pot of prosperity. Oh, what leanness of soul and neglect of
spiritual things have been brought on through the very mercies and bounties of
God! Yet this is not a matter of necessity, for the apostle tells us that he
knew how to abound. When he had much he knew how to use it. Abundant grace enabled
him to bear abundant prosperity. When he had a full sail he was loaded with
much ballast, and so floated safely. It needs more than human skill to carry
the brimming cup of mortal joy with a steady hand, yet Paul had learned that
skill, for he declares, "In all things I am instructed both to be full and
to be hungry." It is a divine lesson to know how to be full, for the
Israelites were full once, but while the flesh was yet in their mouth, the
wrath of God came upon them. Many have asked for mercies that they might
satisfy their own hearts' lust. Fulness of bread has
often made fulness of blood, and that has brought on
wantonness of spirit. When we have much of God's providential mercies, it often
happens that we have but little of God's grace, and little gratitude for the
bounties we have received. We are full and we forget God: satisfied with earth,
we are content to do without heaven. Rest assured it is harder to know how to
be full than it is to know how to be hungry—so desperate is the tendency
of human nature to pride and forgetfulness of God. Take care that you ask in
your prayers that God would teach you "how to be full."
" Let
not the gifts Thy love bestows
Estrange our
hearts from Thee."
Evening
"I have
blotted out, as a thick cloud, thy transgressions, and, as a cloud, thy sins:
return unto Me; for I have redeemed thee."—Isaiah 44:22.
Attentively observe THE INSTRUCTIVE SIMILITUDE: our sins are like a cloud.
As clouds are of many shapes and shades, so are our transgressions. As clouds
obscure the light of the sun, and darken the landscape beneath, so do our sins
hide from us the light of Jehovah's face, and cause us to sit in the shadow of
death. They are earth-born things, and rise from the miry places of our nature;
and when so collected that their measure is full, they threaten us with storm
and tempest. Alas! that, unlike clouds, our sins yield
us no genial showers, but rather threaten to deluge us with a fiery flood of
destruction. O ye black clouds of sin, how can it be fair weather with our
souls while ye remain?
Let our joyful eye dwell
upon THE NOTABLE ACT of divine mercy—"blotting out." God
Himself appears upon the scene, and in divine benignity, instead of manifesting
His anger, reveals His grace: He at once and for ever effectually removes the
mischief, not by blowing away the cloud, but by blotting it out from existence
once for all. Against the justified man no sin remains, the great transaction
of the cross has eternally removed His transgressions from him. On Calvary's
summit the great deed, by which the sin of all the chosen was for ever put
away, was completely and effectually performed.
Practically let us obey THE
GRACIOUS COMMAND, "return unto me."Why should pardoned sinners live at
a distance from their God? If we have been forgiven all our sins, let no legal
fear withhold us from the boldest access to our Lord. Let backslidings be
bemoaned, but let us not persevere in them. To the greatest possible nearness
of communion with the Lord, let us, in the power of the Holy Spirit, strive
mightily to return. O Lord, this night restore us!