Love's Struggle and Rest
“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth;.... and the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.” — Genesis i. i, 2. ’ And I saw a new heaven and a new earth; and there was no more iesL.” — Revelation xxi. i.
These are quotations from the first and the last chapters of the biography of Divine Love. Nothing can exceed their contrast. The one is Love’s winter; the other is her summer. The one is Love’s struggle; the other is her rest. The one is Loves movement on the waters; the other is the drying up of her sea. In the one we see Love tossing on the wave, toiling in the dark, working in the void. In the other. Love has reached her haven, secured her sunshine, filled the void spaces with souls at peace. And such, I think, is ever the course of redeeming Love; it begins with movement, and it ends with rest. It must have its Genesis before it can make its Revelation. At first its light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehendeth it not. There is a great void in front of it; it puts out its hand, but gets no touch of sympathy. If you want to redeem me, you must begin by taking me as I am — with my darkness and my emptiness. You must not expect me to understand your Revelation. You must at the outset lift my whole cross without one touch of help from me. But, when I reach the Revelation ot your life, shall lift your cross. I shall be eager to lighten your labours, to give you rest. I shall say, “Let thy work be my work!” I shall break through the void to meet you. I shall come to you on the waters — come without being bidden. I shall open to you a harbour in my heart, and you shall repose there.
O Thou who hast been seeking me on the waste of waters, I long to give Thy Spirit rest! Thy love has been long struggling with my lovelessness. There has been nothing responsive in my heart to Thine all through these days of my creation; Thou hast been walking alone in the depth of the sea. I have been dark to Thy light, empty to Thy fulness, formless to Thy beauty. The cross has been all on one side — Thy side. But now my Genesis is past and my Revelation is come. I have caught a glimpse of what it is to love. Hitherto Thou hast been moving and I have been motionless; I would reverse the picture, O Christ. I would take Thy place upon the waters; I would give Thee rest. Thou hast been all the day bearing my cross; let me take part in Thine! Let me find a home in my heart for Thee! I often pity the ship that was tossed on the Sea of Galilee; but I seldom remember that Thy feet, too, were on that sea. Help me to remember it; help me never to forget it! Ever let me keep an Ararat for Thine Ark in the flood! Ever in my Bethany let my door be open to receive Thee! Ever in Thine hour of night may it be mine to say, “Abide with us, for the day is far spent!” So shall Thy Spirit cease to move on the waters.