Blessings in Hard Things
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Dear friend,
It seems to me that there is no reason why you should look back over your relations with your husband with any regret. You say that your love was almost idolatrous. You speak of your adoration being so satisfying, that you even absented yourself from church services that you might be together. Of course, that was not a wise thing to do. I think it is well for us, whatever our other interests may be, always to keep God in the first place, and never neglect our duty to him. Of course, I understand that two people together may honor God in their conversation and occupation, perhaps quite as much as if they were to sit side by side in the church. I do not know how you spent your time together on Sundays. But, whatever the facts may have been, let me say to you that it is unwise now for you to waste a moment or a particle of strength in regret.
The true way to deal with our life's mistakes, is to confess them to God — and then to gather wisdom from them by which we may become more earnest and faithful in days to come, avoiding the repetition of these mistakes, and pouring all the strength of our penitence in a new fervor and gladness of living. Nothing you can do — will change anything you have done. It is unwise, therefore, to waste a moment in weeping over it. If your conscience tells you that it is not what you should have done — then God is very gracious, and, if you ask him, he will sweetly and graciously forgive you.
With regard to the present, there is only one duty, and that, it seems to me, is very plain, as plain as the path before your feet at noonday. It is to return at once, with all earnestness and fervor to Christ, to reconsecrate your life to him, and to enter immediately upon the duties which he may give to you. You would certainly go to the Communion Table next Sunday. God forgives all that is past if you ask him, and then for the future he will give you strength and wisdom and grace, that you may live more sweetly.
Life is meant to be cumulative. Each day should be better than the day before. We should get lessons from the experiences of every hour, and carry these lessons forward, getting them into our life. You have been a learner all these years, and, therefore, everything that has happened has been a part of your education and has left its impress upon your life. Simply dedicate yourself again to Christ, and let him be your Comforter and your Friend.
Let me say another word also about your sorrow. You have given me your confidence, and I want to be as a pastor to you, a true and faithful and loving pastor, entering into your life with the most complete sympathy. Sorrow is always full of danger. Some people resist and refuse to submit to it. The result is that their lives are hurt by it. They come out of it with a little less sweetness and sensitiveness of spirit, perhaps embittered toward God, possibly less sweet toward people about them. The true way to meet sorrow, is with sweet acquiescence in God's will, not resisting — but yielding to him. This does not mean that we shall not feel our griefs — we cannot help this; God never blames us for our pain of heart and even for our very deep sorrow. But, however poignant the affliction may be — God wants us to keep close to him in tender love, without fear, without complaining, without bitterness. Then the sorrow does us good. Our life is enriched by it.
I see in your correspondence, no evidence that your grief has hurt you. Indeed, I think it has helped you. So far as you have written to me, you have not said a single word which showed anything but acquiescence and sweet submission to God's will. But I want to help you still more in the same direction. Accept sorrow and know that God has made no mistake. We do not know what our Father's plan for us is. I am sure of this, that every sorrow which comes to us, brings to us within its dark folds — a blessing, a gift of God, a new revealing of God's love. The loss which you have mourned so deeply, no doubt has in it some gain, some blessing. Often the things which we prize the most highly, without which we think we cannot live — God knows would, in the end, not be the best for us. It is not well even to ask questions — it is better just to say, "My Father knows best, and I will submit my life to him. I will leave all in his keeping and abide by his ordering."
What I have said about your trial, applies to all trials, to all hard experiences in life, to all sorrows. We are never told that we shall have an easy time in this world. Christ did not pray for his disciples that they should be taken out of the world; that is, away from the world's persecutions and enmities and oppositions — but that, staying in the world, they might bekept from the evil. Life's problem is not to escape severe things, even cruel things — but, whatever the experiences may be, to keep our own heart gentle and sweet all the while.
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