Comfort for the Weary

William Parks

"My soul is weary of my life; therefore I will give full vent to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul!" Job 10:1

With what different feelings does the young man and the old man look forward in life! The one regards everything with hope, the other regards everything with suspicion. The one fancies a thousand possibilities in the way of improving and elevating himself, the other has had the thousand possibilities completely dissipated and has settled down in sad and sober reality. I have known young people start with the fairest prospects, who have had them all blasted before they arrived at middle age; and I have known others who have hoped against hope, until they sank and died. The few only actualize the fond ambitions of their youth; the majority are doomed to disappointment.

Alas, what an unsatisfactory life is this! If we all who have come to maturity would but honestly tell out our experience, it would be a history of:
buried hopes
and painful struggles
and blighted prospects.

Yet how blessed are these things if they are sanctified, if they have been made a means of inducing us to look to Him with whom is no "change nor shadow of turning."

In spiritual life it is the same: when young we fancy there is an increasingly bright path before us; we dream of so growing in grace, that before we die we shall be literally as holy as God is holy; but, when we have got pretty far on the way, we find that there is not only no increase of brightness, but that the weight of our poor fleshly bodies does not diminish. In short, we are forced to work out the sum for ourselves, and to come to the conclusion of David, "I have seen an end of all perfection!'

My young hearers, believe me, the future of your lives is hung in dark and saddening colors. My mature hearers, believe me, your future in this life will never be any brighter than it is now, though by growing in the knowledge of God it may be calmer. I would now touch upon some of the many reasons for a Christian being weary of life, and then say a word of comfort to the saints.

I. "My soul is weary of life; therefore I will give full vent to my complaint and speak out in the bitterness of my soul!" Job 10:1

Poor Job had good reason to be weary of life, for he was sadly afflicted in mind, body, and estate. Yet an all-wise God would not have afflicted him if there had been no need.

In Job's history we discover that need. Job, though an upright man, was a self-righteous man; and God cannot allow a child of His to have a tinge of self-righteousness about Him. Job, too, was ignorant of the sovereignty of God, and God will not allow a child of His to be ignorant of this awful attribute. Hence the need of Job's afflictions.

Oh, may the Lord sanctify our afflictions to us, so that we may be brought to the same conclusion and confession as Job: "I have heard of You with the hearing of the ear, but now my eye sees You! Therefore I abhor myself in dust and ashes." We may depend upon it, brethren, whether, we can trace out the precise cause or not, that there is a cause or a reason for whatever affliction there is laid upon us.

But I am more concerned this morning with the Christian's reasons for being weary of this life, than I am with the particular case of Job, or any other individual. And now let me mention some of them.

1. The first and great reason is sin.

Oh, sin is ever present, and ever haunting us!

When we lie down at night, sin is present!

When we rise in the morning, sin is present!

When in prayer, sin is present!

When in business, sin is present!

When in the social circle, sin is present!

When in solitude, sin is present.

I know that some will tell me they know nothing of this, that they have left their sins behind them, that from the time of their conversion they have never been troubled with sin. I do not want not to enter into their secrets, for I am sure they are out of God's secret. There is no Scripture warrant for such experience as these people pretend to.

But we who have been taught by the Holy Spirit what sin is, can trace it out and detect it in the very best actions we perform; and, independent of these good actions, what of our many questionable actions? What of our downright bad actions? What of our thoughts? What of our words? Oh, what a fearfully long and wicked catalogue would these present!

Sin, we must remember, is any breach, whether willful or not willful, of the law of God! When we apply that straight-edge to our consciences, woe betide us if we are to judged by the result. But oh, what sin have I detected, and do ever detect, in myself!

What hard thoughts of God have I had;
what rising rebellion;
what discontent;
what murmurings;
what evil thoughts;
what unbelieving thoughts!

Truly I can say of myself, "My heart is many a time like the troubled sea, casting up mire and dirt!" It is this accursed thing, sin, that makes a child of God weary of his life! If there were any prospect, any hope, any Scripture warrant for looking for a mitigation of this evil in this life, we should be content; but, when we are convinced that it will be the same to the end of the life's chapter, we say in the fullness of our grief, "Oh that I had the wings of a dove! that I might fly away, and be at rest!"

2. Another reason for being weary of life is, the countless and ceaseless controversies upon religion.

There is no rest from strife and debate. Some lazy souls, I know, are for leaving things to right themselves—for suffering unbelief and blasphemy to rail on without notice; but this would not be acquitting one's self as a good soldier—this would be to play the traitor with the Lord. Paul set no such base and cowardly example as this, but was instant in season and out of season proclaiming God's truth, and ever standing forth in defense of the Gospel. It is our duty to follow Paul's example; but, oh, it is wearisome, for no sooner have we beaten one foe, than another rises up; and no sooner have we demolished the enemy's strongholds, than others are erected.

If our opponents were even fair and manly and honest, and confess they had the worst of it and retire, we should not think it so wearying to fight for the Lord; but, when they are the exact opposite, mean and shuffling and given to lying—it is wearisome beyond description to "contend earnestly for the faith as it was once delivered to the saints." I can tell you that, if left to myself, I would put off my armor and lay aside my sword—but I feel I would not be in the path of duty. Yet this conflict makes me often cry out with Job, "My soul is weary of my life!"

3. Closely connected with this reason for weariness is lack of success—that is, that measure of success we look for in preaching the Gospel. God knows that David's unbelieving exclamation often has been on my lips, "All men are liars; for prophets have told us we should meet with success, and apostles have assured us that the Lord would never forsake us; yet we have not had that success, and we often think that the Lord has forsaken us. When in our right mind, of course—we can testify to the Lord's faithfulness; but we are not always thus, and hence our exclamation of unbelief and weariness.

But here I may tell you what often has come to my relief under this reason for weariness. The prophets had little success. Isaiah for instance (chapter 53:1); and the apostles, yes, Christ Himself, had but little success. Certainly, we read that "great multitudes followed Christ," and we read that under the apostles' preaching "the word mightily grew and prevailed." But the question is, had not miracles a great deal to do with this success? Besides, it is not at all clear that those multitudes, either in Christ's days or the apostles' days, were sincere converts. Ananias and Sapphira and Simon Magus and Hymeneus and Philetus and Alexander and Demas, etc., were doubtless not the exceptions, but the representatives of many so-called converts. Well, then, I often comfort myself in the midst of my weariness with reflections like these.

4. Another reason for weariness of life is, not only the inconsistency of professors, but the frailties of the saints.

If every individual who says, "I believe in the doctrines of grace," were a consistent liver, or if every one really converted were amiable and lovable in character—then we would not be so thoroughly weary of life as we are; but, when it is a melancholy fact that many professors of truth are openly inconsistent with their profession; and, when it is a fact that many of God's quickened family are about as unamiable and unlovable as they can be—it is a pressing reason for being weary of life.

With regard to the former, I would say that instead of doing me unkindness in professing to believe as I believe, they are doing God's cause a great injury; and, with regard to the latter, I would observe that it seems a pity it should be so—yet I have no doubt there is a wise design in it. It is to wean us from wretched nature, and to compel us to acknowledge that there is nothing lovely or lovable out of Christ. Paul has written, "Not many wise, not many noble, not many mighty are called," etc. I think we might say, "Not many amiable, not many lovable, not many naturally attractive characters are called, but God has chosen the unamiable, unlovable, and unattractive—that He might bring to nothing all human speculation and perfection."

It is a fact in my own experience that I have known worldly, unconverted people that were kind-hearted and noble-minded and generous; and I have known really converted people who were the exact opposite. Grace does not change nature, and this is a reason for being weary of life, and for longing for the time to come when we all shall have glorified bodies like our Lord's, and perfect dispositions, which will prevent the possibility of Ephraim envying Judah, or of Judah envying Ephraim.

5. Another reason for being weary of life is the great difficulty experienced by God's people generally, in getting an honest living.

God's people, for the most part, are a poor people, a struggling people—a people that are often hard put to it to make ends meet. We all know that this is calculated to make men weary of life, especially when it is a fact that God's people wish to be honest and pay their way. Ah, what harder thing is there to endure than lack of success in business after hard work, and with every desire to do fairly. I can well understand such a one crying out, "My soul is weary of my life!"

And, if we add to this, affliction of body and darkness of soul, as was the case with poor Job, what wonder that the man should cry out his impatience? Yet, dear brethren, let us remember God's design in all this. Depend upon it, there is some lesson to be yet learned; and, if it is nothing more than to make us disgusted with this life, it is worth God's trouble to teach it to us!

II. And now for a little word of comfort to the people of God among you.

You have no very good opinion of yourselves, I know, so I need not apologize for my remarks upon the frailties of your poor nature. I need only look within my own heart, and see the type of some of the worst of you. I am sure there is not much to choose among us. If you have a frailty more conspicuous than I, then I have one that is equally known to God. There can be no question about it, that some natures are more agreeable than others; but, inasmuch as the best and most agreeable natures require the sin-atoning blood of Christ, as well as the worst, we have nothing to boast of upon that score.

However, lest some of you by reason of your frailty might be induced to conclude you have neither part nor lot in the matter, I would remind you that no frailty, no sin, is there in all the world, that the blood of Christ cannot cover! I would put your case thus: the promises of God are made to the poor in spirit.

Now consider that real poverty is a deep sense of need; the poor, the destitute man, would be rich if he could. He would have a good house, bed, furniture, food, and all the necessities of life, if he could—but he cannot. He works, labors, strives, but all in vain; poverty is still at his door. He is afraid of his landlord and creditors, lest they should cast him into prison. Now, there is a picture of a literally poor destitute man.

Tell me, though, is not this the case with you spiritually? You would be rich in grace, and have a peaceable dwelling for your soul. You would put on the beautiful garments of salvation, but cannot lay hold of them for lack of faith. You are afraid God will not hold you innocent, but cast you into prison at last, because you have nothing to pay. You are the very man to whom all the promises of the Bible are made—a poor destitute insolvent outcast.

Why, my dear brother, it is of you that it is said, "He fills the hungry with good things;" "I will pour water upon him that is thirsty, and floods upon the dry ground, and Zion's poor shall be satisfied with bread." The great apostle was as poor as you, but the Lord said to him, "My grace is sufficient for you." Believe me, He is saying the same to you; and, though naturally you are weary of your life, you need not fear for your immortal soul, for the Lord will by no means despise the prayer of the destitute.