“Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth, faints not, neither is weary? there is no searching of His understanding. He gives power to the faint, and to them that have no might He increases strength. Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall: but they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint” (Isaiah 40:28-31).
A thinker, who thought long and profoundly on the problems of life, stressed the fact that everything was in a state of flux, everything was changing. Leaves burst into green, a few weeks pass by, change begins, autumn tints appear, the leaves drop, wither, become brittle, crumble into dust, perish. The river flows by. The water that filled its ample bosom passing by continually is soon seen no more. Yet the river, flowing on hour by hour, day by day, month by month, year by year, century by century remains, continually passing on, continually being replenished. There must be some stable source whence it is fed. Nay, human life, and that touches us all very intimately, is like the leaf and the river, changing, in a state of flux, going from strength to weakness, ending in extinction.
This deep thinker came to the conclusion that change, flux, continual deterioration, extinction must have its origin in stability, and that stability must be an Eternal Present. There must be an Unchanging One, and in this he was surely right.
So in our passage we are introduced to the Everlasting God, the Lord Jehovah, the One who is, who ever was, and who is ever to come (Rev. 1:4), the Creator of the ends of the earth. We are told HE does not faint nor grow weary. He is the limitless source of power and life, the One that can know no change, no deterioration, no fading, no flux. What a comfort it is to fall back upon God, whose knowledge is so great, that even a sparrow does not fall to the ground without His notice.
Even in human nature youths, possessing to the utmost vigorous life, under certain circumstances, faint and grow weary; and even the young men, athletes, in all the pride of human virility may utterly fail.
When nature fails where then can we turn for help, but to the Spring, the static Source of all life and force; the One in whom there is no change? The river is fed by the never-failing springs of the hillside. It would soon run dry if it had no such source of perennial supply. So believers have a perennial source of supply, for God gives power to the faint; and to them that have no strength He increases might. What a resource we have in God Himself, the Source of power and life.
We are told that they who wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength. How often we have experienced this. Moments of depression come, weakness asserts itself, circumstances seem too difficult for us to grapple with. In our feebleness we wait on the Lord, we bring our depression and feebleness into His presence, and they pass away, they cannot remain in such an atmosphere. We rise up from our knees, our strength is renewed, not perhaps physically, but spiritually, though even a cheerful mind is good medicine for a sick body.
Visiting a sick sister in the Lord, crippled on her bed with rheumatoid arthritis, she gave us an interpretation, new to us, of the last verse, standing at the head of this article.
It is remarkable that in it we should have drawn to our attention three means of locomotion—flying, running, walking. Mounting up with wings like eagles gives us the idea of power over the very elements, vigorous life in the extreme. Running does not give the sense of easy graceful superiority over the law of gravitation that flying gives, but the idea of real effort, betokening a measure of strength of course. Walking is slow, sedate, step by step. The one that runs is not weary, the one that walks does not faint.
These three stages might well illustrate the changing conditions of human life. Youth flies, middle age runs, old age walks, creeps along. Is God able to meet us in differing circumstances? Surely He is.
In all the energy of youth, if we wait on the Lord, we can mount up. There seems no question but that of mounting. But time goes on, and life begins to alter. The slim youth becomes the heavy middle-aged man, not able to do what he once did. Or the middle-aged sister, whose energy at first seemed inexhaustible, has to sit down and rest betimes. But waiting on the Lord they run and do not weary. Their spirits are sustained.
But old age creeps on. Where they once could walk a dozen miles as a mere refreshing exercise, a few steps now test their powers. To run would be dangerous to the heart that has never ceased beating for one minute all the long years of their life, summer and winter, year in, year out, the most wonderful engine in the world. See the aged man or woman, who waits on the Lord, taking a few steps, they walk and do not faint.
Fainting is a stronger expression of weakness than being weary. It is more intensive in its meaning. What a comfort that waiting on the Lord means that spiritually we do not faint. That whatever the circumstances are—old age, weakness, sickness, even mortal malady, our days numbered—the Lord, upon whom we wait, can minister power and strength, so that believers can triumph even in the article of death. “For Thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling” (Psalm 116. 8). “He is able to save them to the uttermost that come to God by Him, seeing He ever lives to make intercession for them” (Heb. 7:25). “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints” (Ps. 116:15). Nature’s greatest defeat becomes the occasion of God’s greatest triumph. The flux, the changing, deterioration, death itself is left behind. “The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death” (1 Cor. 15:26). “Death is swallowed up in victory” (1 Cor. 15:54).