Where to Meet with God
“And there J will meet with the children of Israel, and the tabernacle shall be sanctified by My glory.” — Exod. xxix. 43.
“There I will meet with the children of Israel.” Where? At the door of the tabernacle. Not in the tabernacle, but at the door. The service of the sanctuary was to them to be sanctified and glorified, because the spirit of worship was to meet them at the entrance. They were not to be forced to enter with a worldly spirit on the chance of finding light in the progress of the day. They were to find light on the threshold that was to keep them all the day — light for the morning sacrifice, light for the evening incense, light for the intermediate hours. So has it been with me. I set out through the problems of life on a search for God, and I did not find God; I found only problems that made me doubt of God. Then I said in words of old, “Verily Thou art a God that hiclest Thyself;” “Why art Thou so far from helping me?” And while I yet spake, a voice made answer: “Why didst thou not meet me at the door? Thou hast been in search of me through the labyrinths of the world; why didst thou not come first to me to lead thee through the labyrinths? Thou hast been seeking to see me by the light of the world; why didst thou not rather seek to see the world by my light? I would have made all things clear to thee if thou hadst met me at the door. Thou would st not have been surprised by the mystery of sorrow. I would have shown thee before starting that life is not a pleasure-ground, but a school. I would have sanctified to thee in advance the strait sate and the narrow way. I would have gone before thee with a pillar of fire to light each cloud by my presence, so that in the valley of every shadow thou wouldst have said, ‘Surely the Lord was in this place.’”
My God, it is not too late to begin anew. Let me start again on the path of existence, no longer in search of Thee, but with Thee. Let me meet Thee at the door of life, that Thou mayst be my interpreter through all the way. When crosses lie before me and I call them accidents, interpret Thou to me; show me that the cross is the road to the crown. When weakness overtakes me and I call it failure, interpret Thou to me; show me that Thy strength is made perfect in weakness. When darkness hovers round me, and I call it the hiding of Thy countenance, interpret thou to me; show me that with Thee the night is even as the noon. Teach me that all things are good and perfect gifts from Thee — even the terror by night and the arrow that flieth by day. Teach me that Thy love can have no variableness nor the least shadow of turning. Let me believe in Thy love before all events, that I may interpret all events by thy love. The sacrifices of life’s tabernacle shall be sanctified when I have met Thee at the door.