Then pray that He will “Create in you clean hearts, and renew right spirits within you;” so that you may love Him better and serve Him more faithfully in the future than you have done in the past.
There is a line, by us unseen,
That crosses every path;
The hidden boundary between
God’s patience and his wrath.
To pass that limit is to die,
To die as if by stealth;
It does not quench the beaming eye,
Or pale the glow of health.
The conscience may be still at ease,
The spirits light and gay;
That which is pleasing still may please,
And care be thrust away.
But on that forehead God has set
Indelibly a mark,
Unseen by man, for man as yet
Is blind and in the dark.
And yet the doomed man’s path below
May bloom, as Eden bloomed;
He did not, does not, will not know,
Or feel that he is doomed.
He knows, he feels that all is well,
And every fear is calmed;
He lives, he dies, he wakes in hell,
Not only doomed, but damned.
O where is this mysterious bourne,
By which our path is crossed?
Beyond which God Himself hath sworn,
That he who goes is lost!
How far may we go on in sin?
How long will God forbear?
Where does hope end, and where begin
The confines of despair?
An answer from the skies is sent:
“Ye that from God depart,
While it is called TO-DAY, repent,
And harden not your heart.”
“I WANT TO BE A MINISTER.”
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime;
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of Time.
More than a century ago there lived in England an orphan boy of no ordinary promise. From his early childhood, “I want to be a minister,” was his chief desire. Being deprived not only of the counsel of a father and the affection of a mother, but also of the necessary amount of money to carry out his cherished desire, his youthful spirit was bowed to the earth, and his noble heart throbbed only with feelings of bitter disappointment and despair.
But a brighter day dawns. There is a prospect for his ardent desire to be gratified. A wealthy lady kindly volunteers to pay all of his expenses at the University of Oxford, if he will become a minister of the Church of England.
But he is a Dissenter, and his noble spirit refuses to sell the religion of his father and mother for the perishable riches of this world, and he most respectfully declines the proffered kindness. God bless thee, noble youth! Wait patiently – don’t despair —never give up. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.” The path of Duty is always the path of Right.
Not long after this occurrence, a poor boy, dressed in the garb of poverty, presented himself at the door of a celebrated minister, and asked to have a private interview with him relative to studying for the ministry. The minister listened patiently to the recital of his many difficulties and numerous trials, but told him that he thought it entirely unheard of, for a youth like himself to think about entering upon so high and responsible a calling. He advised him to think no more of preaching, but to choose some other calling.
Disheartened at himself, discouraged by his friends, poor, penniless and forsaken, he knew not whither to go. No smile of encouragement met his eye; no voice of approval sanctioned his noble endeavor. There was one Friend, however, who had never forsaken him; who had never turned a deaf ear even to his smallest desire; who had ever loved him with fatherly affection and motherly tenderness. To that friend he then betook himself, and when engaged in fervent prayer, a postman knocked at the door, and handed him a letter from an old friend of his father, informing him of his willingness to take him under his care and assist him in his studies, if he was still intent upon studying for the ministry. “This,” he exclaimed, “I look upon almost as an answer from Heaven, and while I live I shall always adore so seasonable an opening of divine Providence.”
The wishes of the poor orphan boy were thus gratified; and before many years had passed away, under the guidance and instruction of his friend, he became a bright and shining light on the walls of Zion.
Youthful reader, this orphan boy was Philip Doddridge – the pious and devoted minister of Christ, the beautiful writer, the faithful pastor, the brilliant Christian.
If there be any one into whose hands this little article may fall, who, like Doddridge, “wants to be a minister,” and is prevented from accomplishing his desire on account of want of means, let me say one word —never despair! If God wants you to be a minister, He will provide the means. Wait patiently, and pray earnestly.
“Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;
The clouds ye so much dread,
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.”
“On a bridge I was standing one morning,
And watching the current roll by,
When suddenly into the water
There fell an unfortunate fly.
“The fishes that swam to the surface
Were looking for something to eat,
And I thought that the hapless young insect
Would surely afford them a treat.
“‘Poor thing!’ I exclaimed with compassion,
‘Thy trials and dangers abound,
For if thou escap’st being eaten,
Thou canst not escape being drowned.
“No sooner the sentence was spoken,
Than lo! like an angel of love,
I saw to the waters beneath me
A leaflet descend from above.
“It glided serene on the streamlet,
’Twas an ark to the poor little fly;
Which soon, to the land reäscending,
Spread its wings in the breezes to dry.
“Oh, sweet was the truth that was whispered,
That mortals should never despair;
For He who takes care of an insect,
Much more for His children will care.
“And