My lovely wife forwards thoughts to me from time to time. This morning was one of those times. She says my life looks tiring to her at times with schedules I keep and hours that I invest. She said this devotional thought made her think of me. She’s a good wife. My life is tiring sometimes but I have no complaints. The hours of work and worry are achieving eternal purposes. I feel confident in that. The risks and investments come from a deep unsettled feeling that I have about this world we live in. And although I’m tired at times, I’m always overjoyed and humbled to be a part of God’s rescue plans for people.
January 18, 2011
There remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. -Hebrews 4:9
How different will be the state of the believer in heaven from what it is here! Here he is born to toil and suffer weariness, but in the land of the immortal, fatigue is never known. Anxious to serve his Master, he finds his strength unequal to his zeal; his constant cry is, “Help me to serve You, O my God.” If he be thoroughly active, he will have much labor; not too much for his will, but more than enough for his power, so that he will cry out, “I am not wearied of the labor, but I am wearied in it.” Ah, Christian, the hot day of weariness does not last forever. The sun is nearing the horizon; it shall rise again with a brighter day than you have ever seen upon a land where they serve God day and night, and yet rest from their labors. Here rest is but partial; there it is perfect. Here the Christian is always unsettled; he feels that he has not yet attained. There all are at rest; they have attained the summit of the mountain; they have ascended to the bosom of their God. Higher they cannot go.
Ah, toil-worn laborer, only think of when you shall rest forever! Can you conceive it? It is a rest eternal; a rest that “remains.” Here my best joys bear “mortal” on their brow. My fair flowers fade; my dainty cups are drained to dregs; my sweetest birds fall before Death’s arrows; my most pleasant days are shadowed into nights; and the flood tides of my bliss subside into ebbs of sorrow. But there everything is immortal. The harp remains in tune, the crown unfading, the eye undimmed, the voice unfaltering, the heart unwavering; and the immortal being is wholly absorbed in infinite delight. Happy day when mortality shall be swallowed up of life, and the Eternal Sabbath shall begin!