(John MacDuff, “The Words of Jesus”)
“The very hairs of your head are all numbered!” Matthew 10:30
What a promise is this! All that befalls you, to the very numbering of your hairs—is known to God! Nothing can happen by accident or chance. Nothing can elude His inspection. The fall of the forest leaf—the fluttering of the insect—the waving of the angel’s wing—the annihilation of a world—all are equally noted by Him! Man speaks of great things and small things—but God knows no such distinction.
How especially comforting to think of this tender solicitude with reference to His own covenant people…not a pang I feel, not a tear I shed—but is known to Him. Man may err—his ways are often crooked; “but as for God—His way is perfect!” He puts my tears into His bottle. Every moment His everlasting arms are underneath and around me. He keeps me “as the apple of His eye.” He “bears” me as a man bears his own son!
Do I look to the FUTURE? Is there much of uncertainty and mystery hanging over it? It may be, much foreboding of evil. Trust Him! All is marked out for me…bewildering mazes will show themselves to be interlaced and interweaved with mercy. “He keeps the feet of His saints.”
“Nothing,” says Jeremy Taylor, “does so establish the mind amid the rollings and turbulence of present things—as both a look above them and a look beyond them; above them—to the steady and loving hand by which they are ruled; and beyond them—to the sweet and beautiful end to which, by that hand, they will be brought.” “The Great Counselor,” says Thomas Brooks, “puts clouds and darkness round about Him, bidding us follow at His beck through the cloud, promising an eternal and uninterrupted sunshine on the other side.” On that “other side” we shall see how every apparent rough blast has been hastening our boats nearer the desired haven.
Well may I commit the keeping of my soul to Jesus in well-doing—as unto a faithful Creator. He gave Himself for me. This transcendent pledge of love—is the guarantee for the bestowment of every other needed blessing. Oh, blessed thought! my sorrows are numbered—by the Man of Sorrows; my tears are counted—by Him who shed first His tears, and then His blood for me! “Therefore comfort one another with these words.”
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