September 3

Morning

Thou whom my soul loveth. — Song 1:7

It is well to be able, without any “if” or “but,” to say of the Lord Jesus, “You whom my soul loves.” Many can only say of Jesus that they hope they love Him; they trust they love Him; but only a poor and shallow experience will be content to stay here. No one ought to give any rest to his spirit until he feels quite sure about a matter of such vital importance. We ought not to be satisfied with a superficial hope that Jesus loves us, and with a bare hope that we love Him. The old saints did not generally speak with “buts,” and “ifs,” and “hopes,” and “trusts,” but they spoke positively and plainly. “I know whom I have believed,” says Paul. “I know that my Redeemer lives,” says Job.

Get positive knowledge of your love of Jesus, and do not be satisfied until you can speak of your interest in Him as a reality, which you have made sure by having received the witness of the Holy Spirit, and His seal upon your soul by faith. True love to Christ is in every case the Holy Spirit’s work, and must be wrought in the heart by Him. He is the efficient cause of it.

But the logical reason why we love Jesus—lies in Himself. Why do we love Jesus? Because He first loved us. Why do we love Jesus? Because He “gave Himself for us.” We have life through His death; we have peace through His blood. Though He was rich—yet for our sakes He became poor. Why do we love Jesus? Because of the excellency of His person. We are filled with a sense of His beauty! an admiration of His charms! a consciousness of His infinite perfection! His greatness, goodness, and loveliness, in one resplendent ray—combine to enchant the soul until it is so ravished that it exclaims, “Yes, He is altogether lovely!” Blessed love this—a love which binds the heart with chains more soft than silk, and yet more firm than adamant!

Evening

The Lord trieth the righteous. — Ps 11:5

All events are under the control of God’s Providence; consequently all the trials of our outward life are traceable at once to the great First Cause. Out of the golden gate of God’s ordinance, the armies of trial march forth in array, clad in their iron armor, and armed with weapons of war. All providences are doors to trial. Even our mercies, like roses, have their thorns. Men may be drowned in seas of prosperity as well as in rivers of affliction. Our mountains are not too high, and our valleys are not too low for temptations; trials lurk on all roads. Everywhere, above and beneath, we are beset and surrounded with dangers. Yet no shower falls unpermitted from the threatening cloud; every drop has its order—before it hastens to the earth.

The trials which come from God are sent to prove and strengthen our graces, to illustrate the power of divine grace, to test the genuineness of our virtues, and to add to their energy. Our Lord in His infinite wisdom and superabundant love, sets so high a value upon His people’s faith, that He will not screen them from those trials by which faith is strengthened. You would never have possessed the precious faith which now supports you—if the trial of your faith had not been like unto fire. You are a tree that never would have rooted so well—if the wind had not rocked you to and fro, and made you take firm hold upon the precious truths of the covenant grace.

Worldly ease is a great foe to faith; it loosens the joints of holy valor, and snaps the sinews of sacred courage. The balloon never rises—until the cords are cut; affliction does this sharp service for believing souls. While the wheat sleeps comfortably in the husk—it is useless to man; it must be threshed out of its resting place before its value can be known. Thus it is well that Jehovah tries the righteous, for trials cause them to grow rich towards God.