A very large number of God’s dear people are passing through unusual circumstances, and many are puzzled and perplexed why this has happened, and why that has been allowed.
A loved husband, or brother, or son, has been called to play his part in the great war that is raging in every part of the world. Earnest and persistent prayer has been made for the safety of the loved one. One day a War Office telegram arrives, with the sad and heart-breaking news that the loved one has been killed in action. The blow is stunning. God could have prevented the catastrophe. Why was it allowed?
In such similar straits was David when he wrote Psalm 39. He was overwhelmed. If he spoke at all, it would be to call God’s love in question. But, as a sheet-anchor in a raging typhoon, he held to his belief in God. He sinned not with his mouth. He said, “I was dumb, I opened not my mouth; because THOU didst it” (v. 9). David looked past second causes up to the great First Cause of eternal love. He exclaimed, “Because THOU didst it.”
You may never be able to unravel your tangled thoughts on the vicissitudes of life, but if your foundation holds, “THOU didst it,” then all is well.
We must not reach God through our circumstances, but rather reach our circumstances through God. We must begin with God. God is good, God is love, His every act pure blessing is, did we but know it. We begin with God, and if we truly begin with Him, we can face every wind that blows.
It is something like the Christian farmer, who erected a weathercock on his barn, bearing the words, God is love. C.H.Spurgeon in his usual witty way exclaimed, “You have placed an immutable truth on a very mutable pivot.” The farmer responded, ‘The love of God is indeed immutable, and whichever way the wind blows, ‘God IS love.’”
The wind for you may be the north wind of bitter adversity, and it may carry with it tidings of death, but whichever way the wind blows, God IS love. That is our sheet-anchor. That never fails. That is our peace of mind.
We do not always see far enough. The biting famine gripped the land of Canaan. Jacob, aged and infirm, heard there was corn in Egypt, so he sent his sons down to Egypt to buy corn. For long years Jacob had mourned the loss of his son Joseph. He deemed him dead, torn by a wild beast, when his sons brought Joseph’s coat of many colours stained with blood. Now a fresh blow fell. The brethren came back from Egypt, but bringing the news that the great lord of Egypt would furnish them with no more corn, unless they proved their bona fides by bringing their youngest brother, Benjamin, with them.
Driven by the remorseless pangs of hunger, Benjamin had to go with his brethren. His father wailed out in his sorrow, “Me have ye bereaved of my children: Joseph is not… and ye will take Benjamin away: all these things are against me” (Gen. 42:36). Were they? Did Jacob see far enough? Do we?
The fact was the famine was to be the very means of restoring Joseph to him, and, not only so, caused Joseph, in his high and exalted position as next to Pharaoh, to care for his father in the richest part of Egypt till he died.
Yes, you may be dumb with sorrow, not a word may pass your lips in your grief, but oh! what a lightening of your anguish to be able to whisper into the ear of your heavenly Father, “THOU didst it.” No second cause in that. We begin with God, reach down to our circumstances, and end with God. Amen. Hallelujah.