For Filial Nearness
“AToba, Father.” — Rom viii. 15.
Most blessed God, I rejoice that I can look up to Thee, the mightiest of all Beings, and call Thee by that name, which may well dispel all misgivings, and hush all disquietudes — “My Father who art in heaven.”
Father, I have sinned against heaven and in Thy sight. The kindest of earthly parents could not so long have borne with ingratitude and waywardness like mine. Long ere now Thou mightest righteously have driven me an exile and a cast-away from Thy presence. But the voice of parental mercy is not silenced. The hand of parental patience and love is stretched out still.” In the midst of deserved wrath, this is Thine own gracious declaration,” I will be a Father unto you!’*
I mourn my grievous departures — my repeated declensions — my heinous ingratitude. Oh, let me no longer live in this state of guilty estrangement — forfeiting all the joys of a Father’s tenderness, the sunshine of a Father’s smile. May I know what it is for the soul, ’ orphaned, and portionless, and friendless by i nature, to repose in the security of Thy covi enant-love. May I be enabled to enjoy more 1 and more, every day, holy filial nearness to I the mercy -seat-^there unburdening into Thine ear all my wants and trials — my sorrows and perplexities — my backslidings and sins. Give me grace to bow with childlike submission to a Father’s will — to bear without a murmur a Father’s rod — to hear in every dealing, joyous or sorrowful, a Father’s voice — and when death comes, to have every fear dispelled by j listening to a Father’s summons — “To-day j shalt thou be with me in paradise.” I Jesus, Thou blessed Elder Brother! “in whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named,” may I be enabled to imitate Thine example of holy resignation to Thy Father’s will. May the cup of bitterest earthly sorrow be taken into my hands with Thine own breathing of devout submission — “This cup which Thou givest me to drink, shall I not drink it? Even so. Father, for so it seems good in Thy sight.” It is my comfort, blessed Lord, to know, that while the best of earthly parents may err. Thou, the unerring God, never canst. In Thy most mysterious dealings there is wisdom. In Thy roughest voice there is mercy.
Adorable Redeemer, all these filial blessings and adoption-privileges I owe to Thee. It is Thy precious blood-shedding which has “set me among the children” — it is that which still keeps me there. Anew this day would I repair to Thy cross — anew would I supplicate that the Holy Spirit, the Divine Comforter, would be sent forth into my heart, enabling me to cry, “Abba, Father.” May the thought of this blessed affiance in Thee, support me amid life’s fitful changes and transient friendships, and may I be enabled to dwell with holy delight on that glorious time, when, no longer an exiled pilgrim in a strange land, I shall be received at the gates of glory with a Father’s welcome — “Son, thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine.”
I commend myself and all near and dear to me, this day, to Thy fatherly care and keeping. And all I ask is for Jesus’ sake. Amen.
“CAUSE ME TO HEAR THY LOVING-KINDNESS IN THE MOBNINQ, FOR IN THEE DO I TRUST.”
S;tontB-f0«rt| Horning.