December 30

Morning

The end of a matter is better than the beginning, and a patient spirit is better than a proud one. — Eccl 7:8 BSB

Look at how Christ began. He was despised and rejected, a man of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief. Do you want to see how it all ends? He is now seated at the right hand of the Father, waiting for the day when His enemies will become His footstool.

“As He is, so are we in this world.” You must bear the cross if you wish to wear the crown! You must wade through the mire if you ever hope to walk the golden streets! So take heart, weary Christian, for “the end of a matter is better than its beginning.”

Consider that creeping worm, so small and insignificant. That is how things begin. But see the butterfly with its dazzling wings, basking in the sunlight, sipping from flowers, full of life and beauty—this is the end. That caterpillar is you, right now, until the day you are wrapped in the chrysalis of death. But when Christ appears, you will be like Him, for you will see Him as He is. Be content to be like Him now—a despised worm—so that you may one day be satisfied when you awake in His likeness.

Think of the rough diamond, placed on the jeweler’s wheel to be cut on every side. It loses much that seemed precious to it. Then the king is crowned, and the diadem is placed on his head amid the sound of trumpets. A glittering ray shines from that crown, reflecting the very diamond that was once so sorely cut by the jeweler. You may compare yourself to such a diamond, for you are one of God’s people, and this is your time of refining.

Let faith and patience have their perfect work, for on the day when the King of kings is crowned, one ray of His glory will shine from you. “They will be Mine,” says the Lord, “in the day when I make up My jewels.” Truly, “the end of a matter is better than its beginning.”

Evening

Then Abner called out to Joab: “Must the sword devour forever? Do you not realize that this will only end in bitterness? How long before you tell the troops to stop pursuing their brothers?” — 2 Sam 2:26 BSB

If you, dear reader, are only a professor of faith but not a possessor of true saving faith in Christ Jesus, then the following describes your end. You attend church regularly, because that’s what others do, but not because your heart is right with God. This is your beginning. Let’s suppose that for the next twenty or thirty years, you continue as you are now—outwardly religious but with no true heart for the things of God.

Tread softly, for now I must show you the deathbed of one like yourself. Look gently upon him as the cold sweat forms on his brow. He awakens, crying out, “Oh God, it’s hard to die! Have you sent for the minister?” “Yes, he’s coming.” The minister arrives. “Sir, I’m afraid I’m dying!” “Do you have any hope?” “I can’t say that I do. I fear standing before God; please, pray for me.” Earnest prayers are offered, and the way of salvation is explained for the ten-thousandth time. But before he can grasp it, I see him slip into death. I close his cold eyelids, for they will never see again.

But where is the man now, and where are his true eyes? It is written, “In hell he lifted up his eyes, being in torment.” Ah! Why didn’t he lift up his eyes sooner? He had grown so accustomed to hearing the gospel that his soul had fallen asleep under it. Alas, if you wait to lift your eyes in hell, how bitter your cry will be! Hear the Savior’s own words, “Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the tip of his finger in water and cool my tongue, because I am tormented in this flame!” Those words carry a terrible weight. May you never learn their full meaning under the flames of God’s wrath!