If Providence is pleased to crush my comforts of any
kind—shall I make my situation less comfortable by complaining? If God
chastises me as a son—shall I make myself an enemy, by rebelling against the
wise discipline of my Father? If the Almighty sends affliction on me, shall
I make the sad addition of sin to my sorrow—by quarreling at my sufferings?
If I am not so happy as I would choose to be, I should still study to be
holy, humble, and content—and then I shall never be very miserable. It is
only in the things of time that I am disappointed; and what else can
I expect where infinite wisdom has pronounced all earthly pleasures to be
vanity and vexation of spirit?
He who lets God go for worldly vanities, may well expect
storms and tempests to blow around him. He who promises to himself happiness
in anything under the sun, shall every day of his life have one lesson or
other to rectify his mistake. He who seeks not God in all things, and
prefers not God above all things, and is not satisfied with God in the stead
of all things—may expect vexation in everything, and shall be happy in
nothing!
To earthly fathers we have given obedience, even when
their own selfish pleasure was the rule of their conduct. And shall we be
less submissive to the Father of our spirits—when our profit is always in
his heavenly plan?
In our choice of good things, in our requests for
blessings—we may be mistaken. But in his bounty he cannot err, whether he
gives much or little—this or that—anything or nothing. Surely, I can never
think or say that my wisdom could have made the world—or even myself. How,
then, can I think that my wisdom could best rule the world—or even myself?
That cannot be called a misfortune—which makes me wiser;
or an affliction—which makes me better; or a loss—which makes me richer in
heaven; or a disappointment—which makes me unsatisfied with every creature,
and cleave to God alone. If a burden is tied on my back, which I must carry
to such a place, the more I try to fling it from me—the more it falls down
with the greater weight; and instead of getting free from it, it becomes a
greater burden still. But, if I go on calmly, my burden grows gradually
lighter, by my patience and submission, until at last I get rid of it
altogether.
Not insensible—but submissive; not dejected—but resigned;
not combating the means, nor quarreling the instrument—but confessing the
first cause, and adoring the sovereignty of Heaven; is my present duty, and
will be my peace both now and in time to come.
There is not an angel in heaven, nor a saint in glory—but
approves of the whole conduct of God's Providence. And therefore, though so
imperfect in comparison of angels and glorious saints, yet, through grace, I
would wish to say "May your will be done on earth—as it is in Heaven!" And
to all that you have done—are doing—and will do—concerning me—I heartily
say, "Amen!"