| J.R. Miller D.D. | Page 18 |
We can stay our minds upon God only when the will of God has been done by us or endured patiently and cheerfully. The bosom of God is a holy place, and nothing unholy ever can nestle there. No disturbed conscience can find quiet there. There must be peace in the heart, first, or even leaning on Christ’s breast will not impart peace. The poet tells of a heavenly music that he heard everywhere,–
“Let me go where’er I will
I hear a sky born music still,
It sounds from all things old,
It sounds from all things young;
From all that’s fair, from all that’s foul,
Peals out a cheerful song.
It is not only in the rose,
It is not only in the bird,
Not only where the rainbow glows,
Nor in the song of women heard;
But in the darkest, meanest things
There always, always something sings.”
But the source of this music was in the poet’s own heart. He heard it wherever he went, because his life was in tune with the will of God. Only thus can any one find perfect peace. Even God cannot give it to one nestling in the shelter of his love whose heart is filled with strifes, or with fears, or with reprovings of conscience. The peace must be in us or we cannot be kept in peace.
Peace gives such blessedness to the heart, and is such an adornment to the life, that no one ever should be willing to miss it. Whatever other graces God has bestowed upon us, we should not be content without this, the most beautiful of them all. There is a German legend which tells of the origin of the moss rose, the loveliest of all the roses. The angel of the flowers one day on earth, when wearied with his ministering, slept under a rose bush and was refreshed. Awaking at length form his sweet repose, he felt grateful for the shelter the rose bush had given, and asked how he could repay the kindness. “Ask what thou wilt, and ‘t is granted thee,” he said. The rose requested that the angel of the flowers would give it a new charm. The heavenly messenger straightway adorned the rose with a veil of delicate moss, thus making it the most beautiful of all the flowers.
However beautiful a character may be, if it has not peace it lacks the highest charm of spiritual adornment. And the Master is willing to bestow upon the lowliest of us the divinest of all graces – peace, his own blessed peace.
Page 18
<< Prior Page 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 Next Page >>