The Hidden Life
J. R. Miller, 1895
A Condition of Divine Blessing
There is a secret of living which, if people knew it, would make all life
easier for them. It may be stated thus—that as we take up any duty and go
forward with it—we shall receive the strength which we need to do it. There
are several divine promises that give this assurance. One reads, "As your
days—so shall your strength be." This seems to mean that the help which God
gives varies according to the necessity of the particular day. When we have
abundance of ordinary human strength, we do not need so much special divine
help, and God then gives less. Really it is always God's strength which we
have, whether it is what we call natural, or whether it comes in
supernatural way. When we have human friends about us, with sweet
companionships, we do not need so much the revealing of the divine presence
and the companionship of the unseen Friend; but when we lose the
human friend, then we need the divine more deeply; and in our loneliness,
God makes himself known to us as never before. So it is in all our
experiences. God fits his blessing to our days. When we faint, he increases
strength. When we are sorrowful, he gives comfort. When we are in danger, he
grants protection. When we are weary, he gives rest. "As your days, so shall
your strength be."
Another of the promises reads, "My grace is sufficient
for you." Every word of this assurance shines with radiant light. It is
Christ's grace which is sufficient. We know that he has all divine fullness,
and therefore we are sure that no human need can ever exhaust his power to
give help. It is Christ's grace which is sufficient. If it were anything
else but grace, it might not give us such comfort. Grace is undeserved
favor—goodness shown to the unworthy. We deserve nothing, for we are all
sinners. But it is grace which is sufficient for each one—"for you," the
promise runs; and that means each one who reads it or hears it. It is
present tense, too,—"is sufficient." Christ is always speaking personally to
the one who is in any need, and saying, "My grace is sufficient for you."
Then the word "sufficient" is one whose meaning expands and amplifies with
the measure of the need. No necessity is so small as not to be
included, and none is so great as to go beyond the capacity of the
blessing which is promised.
There are divine words, also, which imply that the supply
of blessing that we receive, will depend upon ourselves. God's people in
ancient times were commanded to cross the Jordan, the promise being that the
steam would divide for them. Yet the waters would not have parted for them
if they had not gone forward in the obedience and faith. As a matter of
fact, it was only when the feet of the priests, walking in advance, were
wetted in the rushing floods—that the stream began to sink away. When Jesus
was ready to send forth his disciples to bear his gospel, his command was, "Go
into all the world." Then came the promise, "And lo! I am with you all
the days." The promise is very precious—but we cannot separate it from the
command. We cannot have this blessed presence unless we are, in our own way,
to the measure of our own ability, seeking to make disciples of all nations.
It is when we go out in his name, that he will be with us.
This is the unvarying law of spiritual blessing and good.
Life lies before us, with its burdens, its duties, its responsibilities, its
struggles, its perplexities. It does not come to us all in one piece. God
breaks our years into months and weeks and days—and
never gives us more than just a little at a time—never more than we can bear
or do for the day. Then if we take up the present duty or burden, we shall
always have strength to do it. If we have enough of our own natural
strength—and that is God's strength too—he does not need to give us his
special strength; for why should anything so precious as strength be
wasted? But if we do not have strength of our own sufficient for the work or
struggle, we need not falter—but should go on, just as if we had
omnipotence in our arm; for the promise is that if we honor God by
obeying him, though the task be impossible to our ability, he will honor us
by giving us all the help we need. The river will surely open when he has
bidden us to cross it, if only we move on as if there were no river. The
bread will surely be given when we enter the wilderness, following the
divine leading, if only we go on as if we had abundance of provision.
But we must not forget that the blessing which is
promised, depends upon our faith and obedience. If we do not begin the task
which seems impossible, if we wait to receive the help before we will
begin it—the help will never come. If we do not begin our march toward the
river, waiting until it opens—it will not open at all. If we do not enter
upon the struggle, waiting for strength to be given for the battle before we
accept it—we shall never get the strength. An old proverb says, "Get your
spindle and they distaff ready, and God will send the flax." Yes; but he
will not send the flax unless we get the spindle and the distaff ready. We
must do our part, thus proving our faith, or God will not do what he has
promised, for his promise is conditional. Another old proverb says,
"For a web begun, God sends the thread." We must take up the scant bundle of
threads we have, and begin our weaving, confident that the Lord will provide
threads as we go on, enough to finish the web. He will never put his threads
into folded, waiting hands.
There are thousands of good people who do almost nothing
with their life because they are waiting for God to send the thread before
they will begin to weave the web of duty which he bids them to weave. They
say, "I want to be useful; I want to do good; but God has not given me
anything to work with." Now, the truth is, that God has given them enough to
being with, and which is all he will give them at first. There were only
five barley loaves, and there were five thousand hungry people. What were
these among so many? But for the web begun God sent the thread that day.
There was only a little meal in a barrel, and a little oil in a cruse, and
there were years of famine yet to be passed through. But again for the web
begun—God sent the thread.
The teaching is for us, and it is one of the most
practical lessons we can learn. Put your hands to the tasks which are surely
yours, never asking whether you are able to do them or not, and not waiting
for God to provide all the strength or all the material you will need,
before you begin to do them. Whatever is your duty must be done, no matter
how far beyond your strength it may be. It is yours to begin; it is God's to
help you through; and he will, if you honor him by trusting him.
Those who live lives of great usefulness have always
begun with the little they had. It grew in their hands, until they filled a
large sphere of usefulness, touching many lives with the blessing of their
helpfulness. For a web begun—God sent the thread.
The same law of human diligence and divine blessing,
prevails in the building up of character. Ten lepers cried to Jesus for
healing. He answered, bidding them go and show themselves to the priest.
That was what the law required lepers to do after they had been cured, when
the priest would give them a certificate of health and cleanness, permitting
them to return again to society. These lepers were not yet cured. Their
bodies showed no mark of healing. But they promptly obeyed the Master's
word; and "as they went they were cleansed."
There are those who long for a beautiful life, for a
transformed character—but it seems they never can attain to such renewal,
they are so full of faults and blemishes. But if they begin to follow
Christ, starting with the little fragment of Christ-likeness which their
hands can pick up, God will help them, and they will grow at last into rich
beauty of soul. Get the victory over the one temptation of the hour,
and that will be the first thread in a web of complete victoriousness. Get
one little line of loveliness into your disposition, and that will be the
beginning of a spirit which at last will include, "whatever things are
lovely." For a web begun—God will send the thread.
There is a beautiful Eastern story of a child walking
beside the sea, who saw a bright jewel lying in the sand. She stooped down
and picked it up, and found it was attached to a fine thread of gold. As she
drew this out of the sand there were other bright jewels on it. She drew up
the gold thread, and wound it about her neck, and around her head and her
arms and body, until from head to foot she was covered with the bright
threads of gold, and sparkled with the brilliance of the bright jewels. So
it is when we lift out of God's Word an ornament of beauty to put into our
life. We find that other fragments of loveliness, all bound together on the
golden chain of love, and are attached to the one we have taken up. Then as
we draw up the chain and entwine it about our neck, and weave it into a web
to make a garment for our soul, we find that it is endless. Infinite as God
himself, is the abundance of the lovely things which we may draw out of the
treasury of his grace to deck our life with beauty. "For a web begun—God
sends the thread."
This same law applies in the learning of all life's
lessons. The divine teaching is never lacking; but we must ever begin the
lesson with the little we know. We must take the one step which is plain to
us, and then God will make plain the next step for us, and the next, and the
next. We must not demand to know all the way before we will set out. We must
trust Christ, and go on, even in the dark. We must never falter when there
seems to be no path; as we go on it will open. As we do the will of God, we
shall know the teaching. When we begin the web—God will send the threads to
weave it to the beautiful ending.