To E. M., January, 1859.
My beloved friend,
I wonder if you got a new-year's portion yesterday. Last night, while
seeking Jesus, these words came to my mind with sweetness: "The soul of the
diligent shall be made fat." (Proverbs 13:4) Therefore I conclude they are
to be my motto for the new year. I feel them to be very reproving to
my sluggish heart; but there is such sweetness in the mouth of our Beloved,
that even a reproof from His dear lips falls like a honey-drop into the
soul. Oh may the blessed Spirit inspire us with true spiritual diligence
which brings us to more than wishes and desires; for we may possess 'wishes
and desires' and be slothful still. "The soul of the sluggard desires and
has nothing." "Diligent hands will rule--but laziness ends in slave
labor"--under slavery to the world and the flesh, instead of in the liberty
of the Spirit. Gracious Lord, do make us diligent, and keep us
so by the renewings of the Holy Spirit.
But my main object in writing was to give you a word
which melted my heart on Friday night, from Isaiah 50, a favorite chapter of
mine, and in reading which our precious Lord showed Himself lovingly through
the following verse: "I offered my back to those who beat me, my cheeks to
those who pulled out my beard; I did not hide my face from mocking and
spitting!" No, He would hide us--by not hiding Himself. He would be smitten,
that by His stripes we might be healed. Our living balm-tree would have the
fearful incisions in His own flesh, that His balsamic virtues might flow out
to our diseased souls. Our well of Bethlehem was opened on Calvary. There
may we poor sinners be gathered today, and clustering round His cross, drink
freely of the best wine, drink away our sloth, and drink until we are wide
awake in holy diligence, seeking for more of the living stream, and so
feeding upon Him experimentally, live by Him. (John 6:56, 57) Oh that holy,
loving face, not hidden from such indignities for our sakes! I wonder and
adore!
May your meditation of Him be sweet, and may He bring His
prisoner the bread and the wine.
Your warmly-affectionate,
Ruth