No, Lord

But he was not dumb to his God. Dumb to those who might have misunderstood and thought ill of his good Master, but never dumb to Him.

I beseech Thee, O Lord, let me have understanding.

For it was not in my mind to be curious of the high things, but of such as pass us daily, namely, whereiore?... and for what cause?... and why? Of these things have I asked.

Once, and for all ages the story of days such as these now set for Ragland has been written in full. Esdras the earnest, the sincere, found at first no rest in the answer given. ‘ I gathered you together, as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings,’ the God who so expressed His love, who had called His children ‘ as a father his sons, as a mother her daughters, as a nurse her young babes ’, He to allow them to be taken captive by the King of the Persians? ‘ The thoughts of my heart were very grievous unto me, and I began to talk to the Most High again. And said, O Lord... why y ’

And the burden on Ragland’s heart was just this that presses on ours so often, why, when God’s will is the salvation of these for whom Christ died, should there be these perplexing reversals of an apparent purpose? Wherefore this? And for what cause that? And why this unexpected, this bewildering defeat?

‘ Now when I had spoken these words,’ writes Esdras, ‘the angel that came to me the night afore was sent unto me, and said unto me,- Hear me and I will instruct thee... and I said. Speak on, my Lord.

‘ Then said he unto me. Thou art sore troubled in mind for Israel’s sake: lovest thou that people better than he that made them?

‘ And I said. No, Lord: but of very grief have I spoken: for my reins pain me every hour, while I labour to comprehend the way of the most High, and to seek out part of his judgment.

‘ And he said unto me. Thou canst not. And I said Wherefore? ’

Then said the angel Uriel:

‘ Number me the things that are yet not come, gather me together the drops that are scattered abroad, make me the flowers green again that are withered, open me the places that are closed, and bring me forth the winds that in them are shut up, shew me the image of a voice: and then I will declare to thee the things that thou labourest to know.’

And the great and mysterious Angel who likened his judgment to a ring ‘ like as there is no slackness of the last, even so there is no swiftness of the first,’ drew back curtains by a word, revealed an end, not indifference, not unkindness — unthinkable thought — but Love.

So to all questions for all time the answer is given. The undiscoverable is love. Love lies at the end of all ways, in the deeps of all mysteries. Far, far beyond the reach of Esdras’ eager mind, or Ragland’s, or ours, concealed by amazing providences, like a sun set in thick darkness of impenetrable clouds, is Love; eternal, active, unextinguishable Love.

To Ragland, thinking of the Christless crowds his eyes had seen and his heart had longed after, the word of comfort was the same. No explanation, only an assurance that Love ruled all.

‘ Thou art sore pamed m mind for Indict s sake; lovest thou that people better than He that made them? ’

And he said, No Lord.

Sitting on deck wrapped in rugs as his ship passed out of the warm tropic seas into the keen winds of early Spring, he was to all seeming a man broken; but it was then he entered as never before into the private places of peace. He, Ragland, buffeted back at the very hour of achievement, was not to be bewildered, was not to give in. There were „purposes of love laid up for these peoples: ‘ in the end the love that I have promised.’ He was not out of his dear Lord’s will as he sought to renew his strength and return to them.

Thus he was loosed from all his fears, and in the multitude of the sorrows that he had in his heart the comforts of God refreshed his soul and made him vigorous with spiritual purpose.