August 28

Morning

Oil for the light. — Exod 25:6

My soul, how much you need this, for your lamp will not long continue to burn without it. Your lamp will smoke and smell, if fire is gone and gone it will be if oil is absent. You have no oil well springing up in your human nature, and therefore you must go to those who sell and buy for yourself—or like the foolish virgins, you will have to cry, “My lamp is gone out!”

Even the consecrated lamps could not give light without oil; though they shone in the tabernacle, they needed to be fed, though no rough winds blew upon them—they required to be trimmed; and your need is equally as great. Under the most blessed circumstances—you cannot give light for another hour—unless fresh oil of grace is given you.

It was not every oil that might be used in the Lord’s service; neither the petroleum which exudes so plentifully from the earth, nor the oil of fishes, nor that extracted from nuts would be accepted. Only one oil was selected and that the best olive oil. Pretended grace from natural goodness, fancied grace from priestly hands, or imaginary grace from religious ceremonies—will never serve the true saint of God; he knows that the Lord would not be pleased with rivers of such oil. He goes to the olive-press of Gethsemane, and draws his supplies from Him who was crushed therein. The oil of gospel grace is pure, and free from lees and dregs and hence the light which is fed thereon is clear and bright. Our churches are the Savior’s golden candelabra, and if they are to be lights in this dark world, they must have much of this holy oil. Let us pray for ourselves, our ministers, and our churches, that they may never lack oil for the light. Truth, holiness, joy, knowledge, love—these are all beams of the sacred light but we cannot give them forth unless in private we receive fresh oil from the Holy Spirit!

Evening

Sing, O barren. — Isa 54:1

Though we have brought forth some fruit unto Christ, and have a joyful hope that we are “plants of His own right hand planting,” yet there are times when we feel very barren. Prayer is lifeless, love is cold, faith is weak—each grace in the garden of our heart languishes and droops. We are like flowers in the hot sun, requiring the refreshing shower.

In such a condition what are we to do? The text is addressed to us in just such a state. “Sing, O barren one! Break forth into loud and joyful song.” But what can I sing about? I cannot talk about the present, and even the past looks full of barrenness. Ah! I can sing of Jesus Christ! I can talk of visits which the Redeemer has aforetimes paid to me; or if not of these, I can magnify the great love with which He loved His people—when He came from the heights of heaven for their redemption. I will go to the cross again. Come, my soul, heavy laden you were once—you lost your burden there. Go to Calvary again. Perhaps that very cross which gave you life—may give you fruitfulness.

What is my barrenness? It is the platform—for His fruit-creating power. What is my desolation? It is the black setting—for the sapphire of His everlasting love. I will go in poverty, I will go in helplessness, I will go in all my shame and backsliding, I will tell Him that I am still His child, and in confidence in His faithful heart, even I, the barren one, will sing and cry aloud!

Sing, believer, for it will cheer your own heart, and the hearts of other desolate ones. Sing on, for now that you are really ashamed of being barren, you will be fruitful soon; now that God makes you loath to be without fruit—He will soon cover you with clusters. The experience of our barrenness is painful but the Lord’s visitations are delightful. A sense of our own poverty drives us to Christ, and that is where we need to be—for in Him is our fruit found!