"This is my infirmity."
(from Octavius Winslow's "Morning Thoughts")
The infirmities of the believer are
as varied as they are numerous.
Some are weak in faith, and are always
questioning their interest in Christ.
Some, superficial in knowledge, and shallow
in experience, are ever exposed to the crudities
of error and to the assaults of temptation.
Some are slow travelers in the divine life,
and are always in the rear; while yet others
are often ready to halt altogether.
Then there are others who groan beneath the
burden of bodily infirmity, exerting a morbid
influence upon their spiritual experience.
A nervous temperament;
a state of perpetual depression and despondency;
the constant corrodings of mental disquietude;
a facile yielding to temptation;
petulance of spirit;
unguardedness of speech;
gloomy interpretations of providence;
an eye that only views the dark hues of the
cloud, the somber shadings of the picture.
Ah! from this dismal catalogue how many, making
their selection, may exclaim, "This is my infirmity."
But be that infirmity what it may, let it endear
to our hearts the grace and sympathy of Him
who for our sake was encompassed with infirmity,
that He might have compassion upon those who
are alike begirt.
All the fulness of grace that is in Jesus is
for that single infirmity over which you sigh!