"Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus."
"But He committed himself to Him who judges righteously"—1
Peter 2:23.
With what perfect and entire confidingness did Jesus commit
Himself to His Heavenly Father's guidance! He loved to call Him, "My Father!"
There was music in that name, which enabled Him to face the most trying hour,
and to drink the most bitter cup. The scoffing taunt arose at the scene of
crucifixion, "He trusted in God that He would deliver Him, let Him deliver
Him!" It failed to shake, for one moment, His unswerving confidence, even when
the sensible tokens of the Divine presence were withdrawn; the realized
consciousness of God's abiding love sustained Him still—"My God! my God!"
How many a perplexity would we save ourselves, by thus
implicitly "committing ourselves," as He did, to God! In seasons of darkness
and trouble—when our way is shut up with thorns to lift the confiding eye of
faith to Him, and say, "I am oppressed, undertake for me!" How blessed to feel
that He directs all that befalls us; that no contingencies can frustrate His
plans; that the way He leads us is not only a "right way,"—but, with
all its briers and thorns—its tears and trials—it is the right way!
The result of such an habitual staying ourselves on the
Lord, will be a deep, abiding peace—any ripple will only be on the
surface—no more. It is the bosom of the ocean alone, which the storm
ruffles; all beneath is a serene, settled calm. So "You will keep him, O God,
in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on You!"
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want." I shall
be content alike with what he appoints or withholds. I cannot wrong
that love with one shadow of suspicion! I have His own plighted promise of
unchanging faithfulness, that "all things work together for good to those who
love Him!" Often there are earthly sorrows hard to bear—the unkind accusation
when it was least merited or expected—the estrangement of tried and trusted
friends, the failure of cherished hopes, favorite schemes broken up, plans of
usefulness demolished, the gourd breeding its own worm and withering. "Commit
your cause and your way to God!" We little know what tenderness there is in
the blast of the rough wind; what "needs be" are folded under the wings of the
storm! "All is well," because all is from Him. "Events are
God's," says Rutherford; "let Him sit at His own helm, that moderates all."
Christian! look back on your chequered path. How wondrously
has He threaded you through the mazy way—disappointing your fears, realizing
your hopes! Are evils looming through the mists of the future? Do not
anticipate the trials of tomorrow, to aggravate those of today. Leave the
morrow with Him, who has promised, by "casting all your care on Him, to care
for you." No affliction will be sent greater than you can bear. His voice will
be heard stealing from the bosom of the threatening cloud, "Be still, and know
that I am God!"
"My Father!" With such a word, you can stretch out your
neck for any yoke; as with Israel of old, He will make those very waves that
may now be so threatening, a fenced wall on every side! "Rest in the Lord, and
wait patiently for Him." "In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He
shall direct your paths!"