Words for the Weary
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Opening one of those rich chapters of Isaiah, which are as full of nourishment as a wheat-field, our eye lighted upon this passage: "The Lord God has given me the tongue of the learned, that I should know how to speak a word in season to him who is weary." This set us to thinking about the restfulness of God's Word—and of Christ's supporting grace. A very different thing is this—from dreamy indolence. God abhors the idle man as a monster—and laziness as a cardinal sin. But rest is not only refreshing—but invigorating. The farmer's noonday rest under the shady tree—refits him for the hot afternoon's toil in the harvest-field. Nothing fits an army for battle—like a good night's sleep and a full morning meal. If some constant toilers would oftener halt and rest—they would live the longer.
All around us are multitudes of weary people. They are tired out with life's daily battle, with bearing the heat and burden of the day. Some carry a great load of care as to how they shall make both ends meet, and how they shall pay the bills for rent, food and clothing. Others are worn out with anxieties. A burden of spiritual despondency weighs down"Brother Little-Faith" and "Mrs. Much-Afraid." Another one has grown tired of waiting for success in his labors, and is tempted to throw down his seed-bag and sickle in sheer despair. Others still are weary of waiting for recognized answers to prayer.
For all these tired and burdened hearts—Jesus, the relief-bringer, has His word in season. To the Christian with a small purse He says: "Your life does not consists in the abundance of things you possess. I counsel you to buy from Me gold tried in the fire, that you may be rich. In My right hand are infinite treasures!" Only think how rich a man is—who has a clean conscience here and heaven hereafter!
To the doubting and desponding Jesus says: "Fear not, little flock—for it is my Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom!" There is a wonderful restfulness for worried hearts—in this single assurance, "Surely I am with you always—to the very end of the age!" This may be called Christ's richest and sweetest promise. The believer who lives on that promise, can often sing—
"Lonely? No, not lonely,
While Jesus stands by;
His presence always cheers me,
I know that He is nigh.
"Friendless? No, not friendless,
For Jesus is my friend;
I change—but He remains
A Brother to the end.
"Tired? No, not tired,
While leaning on His breast,
My soul has full enjoyment,
Of His eternal rest."
The most common cause of weariness—is the attempt to carry an overload of care. And this is not a wise forethought for the future—or a proper storing-up for life's "rainy day." It is sheer WORRY. The word in season for such overloaded Christians, who toil along life's highway like jaded pack-horses, is this: "Cast your burden on the Lord—and He will sustain you." If we will only drop everything that is sinful and superfluous in the shape of worry—He will enable us to carry the legitimate load. One more word for the weary is, "Cast all your anxiety on Him—because He cares for you!" The literal meaning of this tonic text is: "He has you on His heart." What an inspiring, gladdening thought! The infinite God from His everlasting throne—has poor little sinful me on His Divine heart! My big load—is not even a feather to Him! He knows my frame; He remembers that I am but dust. Like as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities us poor weaklings. He says to us, "Give Me your burdens." He who piloted Noah and all the precious freight in the ark, who supplied the widow's waning cruse of oil, who put Peter to sleep in the dungeon and calmed Paul in the roaring tempest—He says to me, "Cast your anxieties over on Me—I have you on My heart!"
What fools we are—when we strap the load more tightly, and determine that nobody shall carry it but ourselves! Suppose that a weary, footsore traveler were trudging along an uphill road on a sultry day, and a wagon overtakes him. The kind driver calls out: "Ho! my friend, you look tired. Throw that pack into my wagon—I am going your way." But the silly wayfarer, eying him suspiciously, as if he wished to steal it, churlishly replies, "Go along—I can carry my own luggage." We laugh at this obstinate folly, and then repeat the sameinsane sin against the God of love.
When God says to us, "Give Me your load—and I will help you," He does not release us from our share of duty. No more does the atoning Savior when He bears the guilt and penalty of our sins, release us from repentance of those sins or from obeying His commandments. God's offer is to lighten our loads by putting His grace into our hearts, and underneath the load. He then becomes our strength. His all-sufficient grace is made perfect in our weakness—so that God really carries the load. It was the Christ in Paul who defied Nero and conquered the devil.
This Divine doctrine of trust—is a wonderfully restful one to weary disciples. It takes the weariness out of the heart. As the infant drops on its mother's bosom into soft repose—so Faith rests its weary head on Jesus! He gives His beloved sleep, so that they may wake up refreshed for their appointed work. It is not honest work which really wears any Christian out. It is the fever of worry which consumes strength, and furrows the cheek, and brings on decrepitude! That spiritual giant who drew the Gospel chariot from Jerusalem to Rome, and had the care of all the churches on his great heart—never complained of being tired. The secret was that he never chafed his powers with a moment's worry. He was doing God's work—and he left God to be responsible for results. He knew whom he believed—and felt perfectly sure that all things work together for good to those who love the Lord Jesus.
Just a word, in closing, to those who are getting tired of a life of sin and of serving Satan. Friends, you are serving a hard master. His wages are damnation! Again and again you have become disgusted with yourselves, as an immortal being leading a frivolous, foolish life. All the pleasures you have ever paid so dearly for, all the accumulations you have earned—do not satisfy you. There is a hungry, aching spot in your soul. There comes many a moment in which you wish you had something solider, sweeter, stronger, something to live for—and to die by. You need Jesus Christ! Why do you spend your labor for that which does not satisfy? Open your weary ear to that voice of His love: "Come unto Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden—and I will give you rest." Learn of Him; live for Him; labor for Him. Life will glow with a new charm; your soul will then mount as with an eagle's wing—you will run, and never weary; you will walk with Jesus—and never faint!
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