God's Rest in Man

“The spirit of man is the candle of the Lord.” — Proverbs XX. 27.

The benighted traveller in the snow has sometimes caught sight of a candle in a shepherd’s hut. It has been to him the most joyful of all moments; it is the promise of rest. Even such, I think, is the thought of the proverb. The man who uttered it knew well the saying of the old book of Genesis, that when God had wandered six days through creation He rested in man. He had been led on by the glimmer of one candle — the light ot a human soul. It was the only place of rest the Father saw in all the vast expanse. There was no other dwelling for the spirit of my Father but my spirit. He could not find shelter in any other home. Not “where the bee sucks” could my Father dwell. Not where the bird sings could His heart be glad. Not where the cattle browse could His life repose. Not where the stars shine could He find His household fire. One far-off candle alone gave the sign of home. It was my spirit.

My Father, I have often asked Thee to be my light; what a wondrous thought that I once was Thine! I have been Thy candle in the dark and cold; Thou wert moving toward me. When the foundation of the earth was laid Thou wert moving toward me. When the plant and tree arose Thou wert moving toward me. When the breath of life appeared Thou wert moving toward me. The sixth morning was the last from Thy hand but it was the first in Thy heart. The candle was more to Thee than the sunlight. Thou wert in search of a light, not brighter, but better than the sun — the sparkle of a human eye, the radiance of a human face; that was the candle that beckoned Thee. It said to Thee through the night, “Come here, and rest!” It offered Thee what all past creation could not offer — communion. The brightness of the sun could not give it. The beauty of the flower could not give it. The song of the bird could not give it. Thy Sabbath waited for me. The bells of the day of rest could not ring till a heart had respoijded to Thy heart, a life to Thy life, a will to Thy will. Thou wert like a dove on the face of the waters till the light in my dwelling appeared. But that candle brought Thee joy — joy unspeakable and full of glory. It was the first sound of home amid the waste of waters — the earliest voice that bore the invitation, “Abide with me!” Ever more, my Father, may I give Thee this welcome home.