‘Faithful are the wounds of a friend’ (Proverbs 27:6).
The death in sin, which we lamented so much over in the last chapter, is now happily a thing of the past with us. Divine grace brought us to life; the power of heaven has preserved us; and faithful promises has secured our spiritual immortality. It is now our delightful duty to adore the love which, even when we were dead in sins, was still planning deeds of kindness towards us; and which in its own appointed time enlisted Omnipotence in our behalf, whereby we received life from the dead.
In order to raise our hearts towards heaven, and tune our lips to the song of praise, let us, by the Spirit’s gracious assistance, review the way in which the Lord led us to himself.
Like ourselves, many of our readers will admit that the first they ever knew of Jesus was in the character of a faithful friend wounding us for sin. Though at that time we were not aware that love was mixed with every blow, yet now we perceive it to have been the kind plan of a gracious Saviour to bring us to himself. The Roman Emperor conferred freedom on a slave by striking him on the ear: and Jesus sets us free by a blow upon our heart.
1. All saved persons have been wounded.
We shall dwell first upon the fact that all saved persons have been wounded. Neither in the Church on earth or in the triumphant redeemed host in heaven is there one who has received a new heart, and was reclaimed from sin, without a wound from Jesus. The pain may have been slight, and the healing may have been speedy; but in each case there has been a real bruise, which required a heavenly physician to heal it.
1. Some wounded early in life.
With some, this wounding began early in life; for as soon as infancy gave way to childhood, the rod was exercised on some of us. We can remember early convictions of sin, and apprehensions of the wrath of God on account of it. An awakened conscience in our most tender years drove us to the throne of mercy. Though we did not know the hand which chastened our spirit, yet we did ‘bear the yoke in our youth.’ Many times our ‘tender buds of hope’ were soon withered by youthful lusts. Often we were ‘scared by visions’ and terrified with dreams, while the reproof of a parent, the death of a playmate, or a solemn sermon made our hearts melt within us! Truly, our goodness was like the morning mist and the early dew that disappears; but who can tell how much each one of these separate woundings contributed toward that killing by the law, which proved to be the effectual work of God? In each of these arousings we discover a gracious purpose; we trace every one of these awakenings to his hand who watched over our path, determined to deliver us from our sins. The small end of that wedge which has since been driven home, was inserted during these youthful hours of inward strife; the ground of our heart was being ploughed in preparation for the planting of the seed.
Let no one despise the strivings of the Spirit in the hearts of the young; do not let boyish anxieties and juvenile repentances be lightly regarded. The person who stifles a tender conscience in a child promotes the aim of the Evil One and incurs a fearful amount of guilt. No one knows the age of the youngest child in hell; and therefore no one can guess at what age children become capable of conversion. We can at least bear testimony to the fact that grace operates on some minds at a period almost too early to remember. Nor let it be imagined that the feelings of the young are insignificant and superficial—frequently they are of the deepest character. The early woundings of the Saviour are made upon hearts that have not yet become hardened by worldliness and sensuality. The Christian whose lot it was to be wounded in his childhood, will well remember the deep searchings of heart and the sharp convictions of soul which he endured.
O beloved, how much we have to bless our Jesus for, and how much we need to reprove ourselves! Did we not suppress our conscience, and silence the voice of reproof? Were we not deaf to the warning voice of our glorious Jesus? When he struck us with pain, we did not returned to kiss his rod, but were as stubborn as the young bull unaccustomed to the yoke. Our most solemn vows were only made to be broken; our earnest prayers ceased when the outward pressure was removed; and our partial reformations passed away like dreams of the night. Blessed be his name, he finally gave us the effectual blow of grace; but we must forever stand in amazement at the patience which endured our stubbornness, and persevered in its plan of love.
2. Many of wounds were exceedingly painful
Many of the Lord’s beloved ones have felt the wounds to be exceedingly painful. There are degrees in the bitterness of sorrow for sin; everyone does not have the same horrible apprehensions of de struction; but there are some who have drank the very bitterness and sourness of repentance. Usually, such persons have previously been great sinners, or become great saints later in life. They love much because they feel that much has been forgiven; their fearful bondage increases their gratitude for glorious liberty; and the wretched ness of their natural poverty enhances their estimation of the riches of Jesus. The painful process is thus a profitable one; but when it is endured it is indeed a great fiery furnace—an oven that burns with intense heat. He who has had his feet fastened in the stocks of conviction will never forget it till his dying day.
It is good when some of us remember the time when our true Friend wounded our heart, with what we then thought was a cruel hand. Our gladness was turned into mourning, our songs to sobbing, our laughter into moaning, and our joys to misery. Fearful thoughts haunted our unenlightened soul—dreary images of agony sat on the throne of our imagination—sounds like the wailings of hell were frequently heard in our ears, together making us so completely full of agony that it could be compared to nothing but the gates of hell. During this period, our prayers were truly earnest when we could pray; but at times a sense of tremendous guilt constrained our lips, and choked our speech. Now and then a faint gleam of hope lit up the scene for a moment, only to increase the gloom on its departure. The nearer we approached to our Lord, the more sternly (we thought) he repelled us; the more earnest our attempts at reformation, the more heavy the lash fell upon our shoulders. The law grabbed us with iron hand; and struck us with the scourge of vengeance; conscience washed the quivering flesh with salt water; and despondency furnished us with a bed of thorns, upon which our poor mangled body found a hard couch. At night we dreamed of torment, during the day we almost felt its beginnings. In vain we asked Moses to plead our case with an angry God; in vain we attempted by vows to move him to pity: ‘the one who breaks’ [Micah 2:13] broke our hearts with his heavy hammer, and seemed intent to make our agonies intolerable. We did not dare to touch the hem of his garment, for fear that ‘Depart from me!’ would be the only word he would speak to us. A fearful expectation of judgment and of fiery indignation caused us to be filled with fears, doubts, discouragements, hopelessness, and to tremble with anxiety.
“This article originally appeared here at Bible Bulletin Board.”
