Meditation CII.
Meditation CII.
SAINTS HAVE NO CAUSE TO COMPLAIN.
Dec. 24, 1760.
"You are ever with me, and all that I have is yours"—is a privilege which may compose the believer's bosom in the most gloomy days, and amidst the most distressing vicissitudes of lot. For in this promise, which is sweeter than honey, and the honey-comb, the ear of faith may hear God speaking thus, "Believer, can you, who have the treasures of eternity reserved for you—look sad, or grudge the temporal happiness of any!
Neither should it vex you too much, that your situation is not such as you desire in this transient world; seeing you are ever to be with me, where all my perfections shine, and all my glory beams forth."
O how happy, then, are the saints of God, who may put on a cheerful countenance even in the general conflagration. And if so, how much more under a few disappointments which are sent for wise ends, and redound to their spiritual good in their outcome. Invested with this celestial charter, well may we smile—though all nature frowns; and well may we rejoice—though an angry world rages.
By this we dwell in the sunbeam, and walk in endless light—and need not be greatly troubled at the loss of all things. But what do I say? For how can the heirs of God, and joint-heirs with Christ, loose anything at all? How can he who fills heaven and earth, be lost?
Ah! cruel unbelief only attempts the horrid sacrilege to steal Christ from the heart—but such a promise as this bids defiance to the monster; and while we expect its full accomplishment (nor let the time seem long) the day dawns, which ends the dark night of our sinning and suffering, and translates us to the realms of bliss. Eternity only can declare what it is to be with him, whose presence makes a heaven, and whose love is better than life; and what it is to enjoy all the fullness of the Godhead, as far as glorified creatures can.
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