Jesus Close By Us
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"Make Christ your constant companion," says my brilliant Scotch friend, Drummond, in one of those practical addresses which he is scattering like golden grain over our land. This is the secret of a strong, serene and sanctified life.
"Lo, I am with you always" is his precious promise; and he is the happiest and the holiest Christian, who invites the Master to be ever at his side, and who is becoming more and more changed into his image. The godly-minded Charles Simeon, of Cambridge, kept a portrait of the missionary, Henry Martyn, hanging on the wall of his study. Looking up at the bright, youthful face, he would often say, "There, see that blessed man. No one looks at me as he does. He seems always to be saying to me, 'Be serious, be earnest, don't trifle.'" Then bowing toward the benign countenance of Martyn, Simeon would add, "No, I won't. I won't trifle." If the good Cambridge preacher caught a constant inspiration by looking at the silent face of the great missionary, how much more may we do so by keeping our Savior constantly before us and beside us. He is ever saying to us, "Look at me, learn of me, live for me!"
Sometimes a smooth-tongued temptation assails us, and when we are wavering, a sight of Him who conquered the great adversary breaks upon us, and we get the grace to drive the tempter from us. Sometimes we are inclined to shirk a disagreeable duty or hard task that goes against the grain. How promptly our Master's voice is heard, "Whoever will not take up his cross, and come after me, is not worthy of me!" At another time our spirits are sinking down, under discouragement or disappointment. Just then the loving countenance draws up very close and we catch the cheering words, "Let not your heart be troubled; I am with you; my grace is sufficient for you." When we are tempted to bolt out a hot resentful word, or to practice some shabby deceit, the sorrowful countenance whispers in our ears, "Wound me not in the house of my friends." And when we have come back ashamed and crestfallen from some cowardly desertion of the right, or some compromise with conscience, oh, how that eye which fell upon skulking Peter seems to say to us, "Will you also go away? Could you not watch with me one hour?"
Evermore is that divine Master and Monitor not far from every one of us, watching every step, rebuking every lapse, chiding every delay, and arousing us to every fresh call to duty, or to grapple with the many-headed devil of selfishness.
Prayer has a new stimulus and encouragement, if we realize that Jesus is close by us. He is within call. The telephone is one of the marvels of modern invention, bringing a whole community within speaking distance of each other. Yet it has its defects and limitations; it may be out of order, or be in use by some long-winded customer, or the ear may be lacking at the other end of the wire. But the telephone of faith always reaches the open ear of our beloved Lord; yes, a million voices may all be addressing him at once without delay and without confusion. He is near unto all who call upon him. The very phraseology of his promise recalls the familiar process of telephoning: "You shall call—and the Lord will answer; you shall cry—and he shall say, Here I am." In every phase of prayer, whether confession of sin, or offering thanks, or supplicating help—this blessed near-at-handness of Jesus, is a precious encouragement.
His seeming delays are not denials of us; he may be only testing our faith or our sincerity. Do not let us think of prayer as the coaxing or the conquering of a reluctant friend—but rather as the confident appeal to One who is always wise, and always willing to give us what is best for us. Not only is our loving Master within call; he is ever within our reach. A very present help is he in time of trouble. Peter sinking in the waves cries out, "Lord, save me!" and immediately the almighty arm grasps his. While all others on board the tempest-tossed ship were smitten with panic, Paul has One by his side who says to him, "Fear not, Paul; you must be brought before Caesar." And soon afterward, when the weather-beaten old hero faces the savage Nero with cheek unblanched, it is because the Lord Jesus stood with him and strengthened him.
One of the chief purposes of trial and affliction, is to make us send for our Savior. If the famine had not reached to the land of Canaan, the sons of Jacob never would have found their brother Joseph. If there is no famine in our souls—we do not hunger for Christ; blessed be the sharp trial which impels us to throw out a grasping hand on our Elder Brother! A peculiar trial sometimes besets us. We are perplexed with the mysteries of providence and have an intense craving for some explanation. We long for complete knowledge—on the spot. The divine dealings with us are dark and incomprehensible. At such times if we will but listen—we will hear a Voice saying to us, "I am with you; what I am doing you do not understand now—but you shall know hereafter."
How encouraging is the thought to every awakened sinner—that he need not go off searching after a Savior and feeling after him in the dark! Jesus is already at your heart's door, my friend. He is knocking for admission. Let him in! He will come to stay. Some of us have known lately how close the loving Jesus is in a dying chamber.
In one house the little song-bird of the family was gasping for life, and Christ just opened the cage and let the darling soar up to the sunny climates. A beloved daughter lay dying; but the Master gently said, "She is not dying, she only sleeps; so give I my beloved sleep." Our gray-haired father or mother is entering the valley of the death-shade; and the calm testimony of their trust is, "I fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff—they comfort me."
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