Is God in Everything?
One of the greatest obstacles to an unwavering experience in the interior life is the difficulty of seeing God in everything. People say, “I can easily submit to things that come from God; but I cannot submit to man, and most of my trials and crosses come through human instrumentality.” Or they say, “It is all well enough to talk of trusting; but when I commit a matter to God, man is sure to come in and disarrange it all; and while I have no difficulty in trusting God, I do see serious difficulties in the way of trusting men.”
This is no imaginary trouble, but is of vital importance; and if it cannot be met, it does really make the life of faith an impossible and visionary theory. For nearly everything in life comes to us through human instrumentalities, and most of our trials are the result of somebody’s failure, or ignorance, or carelessness, or sin. We know God cannot be the author of these things; and yet, unless He is the agent in the matter, how can we say to Him about it, “Thy will be done”?
Besides, what good is there in trusting our affairs to God, if, after all, man is to be allowed to come in and disarrange them; and how is it possible to live by faith, if human agencies, in whom it would be
-wrong and foolish to trust, are to have a prevailing, influence in moulding our lives?
Moreover, things in which we can see God’s hand, always have a sweetness in them that consoles while it wounds; but the trials inflicted by man are full of nothing but bitterness.
What is needed, then, is to see God in everything, and to receive everything directly from His hands, with no intervention of second causes; and it is to just this that we must be brought, before we can know an abiding experience of entire abandonment and perfect trust. Our abandonment must be to God, not to man; and our trust must be in Him, not in any arm of flesh, or we shall fail at the first trial.
The question here confronts us at once, “But is God in everything, and have we any warrant from the Scripture for receiving everything from His hands, without regarding the second causes that may have been instrumental in bringing them about?” I answer to this, unhesitatingly, Yes. To the children of God, everything comes directly from their Father’s hand, no matter who or what may have been the apparent agents. There are no “second causes” for them.
The whole teaching of Scripture asserts and implies this. Not a sparrow falls to the ground without our Father. The very hairs of our head are all numbered. We are not to be careful about anything, because our Father cares for us. We are not to avenge ourselves, because our Father has charged Himself with our defence. We are not to fear, for the Lord is on our side. No one can be against us, because he is for us. We shall not want, for He is our Shepherd. When we pas? through the rivers they shall not overflow us, and when we walkthrough the fire we shall not be burned, because He will be with us. He shuts the meuths of lions, that they cannot hurt us. “He delivereth and rescueth.” “He changeth the times and the seasons; He removeth kings and setteth up kings.” A man’s heart is in His hand, and, “as the rivers of water, He turneth it whithersoever He will.” He ruleth over all the kingdoms of the heathen; and in His hand there is power and might, “so that none is able to withstand” Him. “He ruleth the raging of the sea; when the waves thereof arise, He stilleth them.” He “bringeth the counsel of the heathen to naught; He maketh the devices of the people of none effect.” “Whatsoever the Lord pleaseth, that doeth He, in heaven and in earth, in the seas and all deep places.” “Lo, these are parts of His ways: but how little a portion is heard of Him? But the thunder of His power who can understand?” “Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? There is no searching of His understanding.”
And it is this very God who is declared to be “our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof.” “I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my God; in Him will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust: His truth shall be thy shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror by night; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence that walketh in darkness; nor for the destruction thatwasteth at noonday. A thousand shall fall at thy side, and ten thousand at thy right hand;
but it shall not come nigh thee Because thou
hast made the Lord, which is my refuge, even the most High, thy habitation; there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any plague come nigh thy dwelling. For He shall give His angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways.” “Be content, therefore, with such things as ye have: for He hath said, I will never leave thee nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.”
To my own mind, these scriptures, and many others like them, settle forever the question as to the power of “second causes” in the life of the children of God. Second causes must all be under the control of our Father, and not one of them can touch us except with His knowledge and by His permission. It may be the sin of man that originates the action, and therefore the thing itself cannot be said to be the will of God; but by the time it reaches us it has become God’s will for us, and must be accepted as directly from His hands. No man or company of men, no power in earth or heaven, can touch that soul which is abiding in Christ, without first passing through his encircling presence, and receiving the seal of his permission. If God be for us, it matters not who may be against us; nothing can disturb or harm us, except He shall see that it is best for us, and shall stand aside to let it pass.
An earthly parent’s care for his helpless child is a feeble illustration cf this. If the child is in its father’s arms, nothing can touch it without thaj; father’s consent, unless he is too weak to prevent it. And even if this should be the case, he suffers the harm first in his own person before he allows it to reach his child. If an earthly parent would thus care for his little helpless one, how much more will our Heavenly Father, whose love is infinitely greater, and whose strength and wisdom can never be baffled, care for us! I am afraid there are some, even of God’s own children, who scarcely think that He is equal to themselves in tenderness, and love, and thoughtful care; and who, in their secret thoughts, charge Him with a neglect and indifference of which they would feel themselves incapable. The truth really is, that His care is infinitely superior to any possibilities of human care; and that He, who counts the very hairs of our heads, and suffers not a sparrow to fall without Him, takes note of the minutest matters that can affect the lives of His children, and regulates them all according to His own perfect will, let their origin be what they may.
The instances of this are numberless. Take Joseph. What could have seemed more apparently on the face of it to be the result of sin, and utterly contrary to the will of God, than the action of his brethren in selling him into slavery? And yet Joseph, in speaking of it, said, “As for you, ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good.” “Now therefore be not grieved, nor angry with yourselves, that ye sold me hither: for God did send me before you to preserve life.” It was undoubtedly sin in Joseph’s brethren, but by the time it had reached Joseph it had become God’s will for him, and was, in truth, though he did not see it then, the greatest blessing of his whole life. And thus we see how God can make even “the wrath of man to praise Him,” and how all things, even the sins of others, “shall work together for good to them that love him.”
I learned this lesson practically and experimentally, long years before I knew the scriptural truth conp cerning it. I was attending a prayer-meeting held in the interests of the life of faith, when a strange lady rose to speak, and I looked at her, wondering who she could be, little thinking she was to bring a message to my soul which would teach me a grand practical lesson. She said she had great difficulty in living the life of faith, on account of the second causes that seemed to her to control nearly everything that concerned her. Her perplexity became so great that at last she began to ask God to teach her the truth about it, whether He really was in everything or not. After praying this for a few days, she had what she described as a vision. She thought she was in a perfectly dark place, and that there advanced toward her, from a distance, a body of light which gradually surrounded and enveloped her and everything around her. As it approached, a voice seemed to say, “This is the pres-1 ence of God! This is the presence of God!” While surrounded with this presence, all the great and awful things in life seemed to pass before her, — fighting armies, wicked men, raging beasts, storms and pestilences, sin and suffering of every kind. She shrunk back at first in terror; but she soon saw that the presence of God so surrounded and enveloped herself and each one of these things, that not a lion could reach out its paw, nor a bullet fly through the air, except as the presence of God moved out of the way to permit it. And she saw that if there were ever so thin a film, as it were, of this glorious Presence between herself and the most terrible violence, not a hair of her head could be ruffled, nor anything touch her, except as the Presence divided to let the evil through. Then all the small and annoying things of life passed before her; and equally she saw that there also she was so enveloped in this presence of God, that not a cross look, nor a harsh word, nor petty trial of any kind could affect her, unless God’s encircling presence moved out »f the way to let it.
Her difficulty vanished. Her question was answered forever. God was in everything; and to her henceforth there were no second causes. She saw that her life came to her, day by day and hour by hour, directly from the hand of God, let the agencies which should seem to control it be what they might. And never again had she found any difficulty in an abiding consent to His will, and an unwavering trust in His care.
Would that it were only possible to make every Christian see this truth as plainly as I see it! For I am convinced it is the only clew to a completely restful life. Nothing else will enable a soul to live only in the present moment, as we are commanded to do, and to take no thought for the morrow. Nothing else will take all the risks and “supposes” out of a Christian’s life, and enable him to say, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.” Under
God’s care we run no risks. I once heard of a poor colored woman who earned a precarious living by daily labor, but who was a joyous, triumphant Christian. “Ah, Nancy,” said a gloomy Christian lady to her one day, who almost disapproved of her constant cheerfulness, and yet envied it, — “Ah, Nancy, it is all well enough to be happy now, but I should think the thoughts of your future would sober you. Only suppose, for instance, that you should have a spell of sickness, and be unable to work; or suppose your present employers should move away, and no one else should give you anything to do; or suppose —” “Stop!” cried Nancy, “I never supposes. De Lord is my Shepherd, and I knows I shall not want. And, honey,” she added to her gloomy friend, “it’s all dem supposes as is makin’ you so mis’able. You’d better give dem all up, and just trust de Lord.”
Nothing else but this seeing God in everything, will make us loving and patient with those who annoy and trouble us. They will be to us then only the instruments for accomplishing His tender and wise purposes toward us, and we shall even find ourselves at last inwardly thanking them for the blessings they bring.
Nothing else will completely put an end to all murmuring or rebelling thoughts. Christians often feel at liberty to murmur against man, when they would not dare to murmur against God. Therefore this way of receiving things would make it impossible ever to murmur. If our Father permits a trial to come, it must be because the trial is the sweetest and best thing that could happen to us, and we must accept it with thanks from His dear hand. This does not mean, however, that we must like or enjoy the trial itself, but that we must like God’s will in the trial; and it is not hard to do this, when we have learned to know that His will is the will of love, and is therefore always lovely.
A very good illustration of this may be found in the familiar fact of a mother giving medicine to her dearly loved child. The bottle holds the medicine, but the mother gives it; and the bottle is not responsible, but the mother. No matter how full her closet may be of bottles of medicine, the mother will not allow one drop to be given to the child unless she believes it will be good for it; but when she does believe it will be good for her darling, the very depth of her love compels her to force it on the child, no matter how bitter may be its taste.
The human beings around us are often the bottles that hold our medicine, but it is our Father’s hand of love that pours out the medicine, and compels us to drink it. The human bottle is the “second cause” of our trial; but it has no real agency in it, for the medicine, that these human “bottles” hold, is prescribed for us and given to us by the Great Physician of our souls, who is seeking thereby to heal all our spiritual diseases.
For instance, I know no better medicine to cure the disease of irritability than to be compelled to live with a human “bottle” of sensitiveness, whom we are bound to consider and yield to.
Shall we rebel against the human bottles then? Shall we not rather take thankfully from our Father’s hand the medicine they contain, and, losing sight of the second cause, say joyfully, “Thy will be done,”
in everything that comes to us, no matter what its source may be?
This way of seeing our Father in everything makes life one long thanksgiving, and gives a rest of heart, and, more than that, agayety of spirit that is unspeakable.
Faber says, in his wonderful hymn on the Will of God, —
“I know not what it is to doubt,
My heart is always gay;
I run no risks, for, come what will,
Thou always hast thy way.”
Since, therefore, God is sure to have His own way concerning those who abandon themselves to Him in perfect trust, into what wonderful green pastures of inward rest, and beside what blessedly still waters of inward refreshment, will He lead all such!
If the will of God is our will, and if He always has His way, then we always have our way also, and we reign in a perpetual kingdom. He who sides with God cannot fail to win in every encounter; and whether the result shall be joy or sorrow, failure or success, death or life, we may under all circumstances join in the Apostle? s shout of victory, “Thanks be unto God, which always causeth us to triumph in Christ I”
Thou sweet, beloved Will of God,
My anchor ground, my fortress hffl.
My spirit’s silent, fair abode,
In thee I hide me, and am still.
O Will, that wiliest good alone.
Lead thou the way, thou guidest b«*t;
A little child I follow on,
And trusting lean upon thy breast.
* From “Hymns of Consecration.”
Thy beautiful, sweet Will, my God,
Holds fast in its sublirne embrace
My captive will, a gladsome bird,
Prisoned in such a realm of grace.
Within this place of certain good,
Love ever more expands her wings;
Or, nestling in thy perfect choice,
Abides content with what it brings.
Oh, sweetest burden, lightest yoke,
It lifts, it bears my happy soul,
It giveth wings to this poor heart;
My freedom is thy grand control.
Upon God’s Will I lay me down,
As child upon its mother’s breast;
No silken couch, nor softest bed,
Could ever give me such sweet rest.
Thy wonderful, grand Will, my God,
With triumph now, I make it mine,
And Love shall cry a jealous Yes,
To every dear command of thine.