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SUBJECT: 008 PSA 14:6 Are You Mocked?
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Are You Mocked?
September 17th, 1871
by
C. H. SPURGEON
(1834-1892)
"Ye have shamed the counsel of the poor, because
the Lord is his refuge."-Psa_14:6.
God's Word divides the whole human race into two
portions. There is the seed of the serpent, and the
seed of the woman-the children of God, and the children
of the devil-those who are by nature still what they
always were, and those who have been begotten again
unto a lively hope by the resurrection of Jesus Christ
from the dead. There are many distinctions among men,
but they are not much more than surface-deep. This one
distinction, however, goes right through, and it is
very deep. I may say that between the two classes, the
saved and the unsaved, there is a great gulf fixed.
There is as wide a difference between the righteous and
the wicked as there is between the living and the dead.
The Psalmist, David, in this particular Psalm calls one
class of men fools, and another class the poor. You
will observe that he begins by describing the fool, by
which he does not mean one particular man. but the
whole race as it is by nature-the whole of that portion
of the human race that remains unregenerate. In our
text he describes another class as the poor, in which
he comprehends all the saved, all the godly, all the
righteous, of whom our Redeemer hath said, "Blessed are
the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of
heaven." Now from the very first, between the two seeds
there has always been an enmity-an enmity which has
never been mitigated, and never will. It displays
itself in various ways, but it is always there. In some
ages the enmity has burst forth into open
persecution-Herod has sought the young child to destroy
it; Haman has sought to destroy the whole generation of
Israel; stakes have been erected, and the faithful have
been burnt; racks and inhuman engines of cruelty have
been fashioned by the art of man, through the malice of
his heart, to exterminate, if it were possible, the
children of the living God. For there is
war-perpetually war to the knife-war ever between the
two generations. At this particular time the warfare is
not less bitter; but the restraints of Providence do
not allow it to display itself as it once did, and it
now generally takes the form of cruel mockings so that
our text is as applicable to the present race as it was
in David's time, "Ye have shamed the counsel of the
poor, because the Lord is his refuge." The fool bath
made a mock of the righteous man, called the poor man;
and this has been the subject of his mockery, that the
godly man has been fool enough as he calls him, to put
his trust in God, and to make this the main point and
purpose of his life. There may be some here who have
done this; all of us do it to some extent until we are
new-born. We ridicule, if not with the tongue, yet in
our heart, those who have made God their refuge, for
when we begin to value the people of God, it is a sign
of some degree of grace in us: "We know that we have
passed from death unto life, because we love the
brethren"; but until we come into that state of grace
there is a hatred or contempt, more or less developed,
against those who are resting in the living God.
Now I shall at this time first of all speak of those
who are mocked; secondly, of the mockers; and thirdly,
of how those who are mocked might to behave towards
those who try to put them to shame. First, then, let us
take the subject-the object-of the mockery of carnal
minds.
I. WHO ARE MOCKED.
Here we have three points: "Ye have shamed the poor,"
that is, the persons; "the counsel of the poor," that
is the reasons of their faith; then their faith itself,
"because the Lord is his refuge."
To begin, it is very common for ungodly men to pour
contempt upon God's people, the poor; and oftentimes
they will do it by the use of these words. It so
happens that many of God's people are poor in pocket,
and how often do hear the observation, "Oh! these
Methodists, these Presbyterians, these Baptists, they
are a set of poor people, mechanics, and servant-girls
and so on," and how often is that uttered with a sneer
upon the lips! Well now, that is a fine thing to make
fun of, isn't it, for, after all, what is there to be
ashamed of in honest poverty? I will stand here and say
that if I could stand to-morrow morning in Cheapside,
and pick out a dozen poor men, and then if I were to
pick out a dozen middle-class men, and then if I were
to pick out a dozen rich men, I believe, as to
character, they would be very much of a muchness. You
shall go, if you will, and pick out at random twelve
good princes, and see if you could do it; but I will
pick you out twelve working men that shall be honest,
and upright, and chaste-which great men are not always.
The poor are no worse than the rich, and have no more
right to be despised. And if it were true that all who
fear God were poor, it might, perhaps, be rather to
their credit than to their dishonour, for, at any rate,
nobody would be able to say that their Dockets were
lined with the result of fraud. If they were poor, they
would, at any rate, be free from many of the
accusations that might be brought against rich men. I
care no more for one class than another, especially
when I preach the gospel-you are all alike to me, one
as the other-but this I will say, that of all jests and
all sneers that is one of the most ridiculous and mean
against godly people, because they are poor.
But the sneer then takes another form. It is not that
they are poor in pocket, so much as that they are very
poor in education. "Ah!" say they, "these people-well,
what do they know? They are not philosophical; they are
not amongst those who cultivate the higher walks of
literature; they are mostly plain, simple-minded
people, and, therefore, they believe their Bibles."
Well, I don't believe that. Amongst Christian people
there are many men of as high an education as among any
class. The mind of Newton found root in Scripture, and
discovered depths which it could not fathom. But even
if you say that, what of it? If these men have the
wisdom which cometh from above, they have something
that will last when the wisdom which is merely of this
earth will have perished. Go, take the skull of the
wise man in your hand, and look at it. Is it not as
brown, is it not as ghastly a sight as the skul1 of the
peasant? And what matters it to him, now that he lies
among the clods of the valley, that once he spent his
nights, with the lamp, poring into ancient tomes, or
walked with his staff to heaven to measure the distance
of the stars, or bored into the depths of the earth? It
in all one to him, and if he is a lost soul, ah! who
would not give the preference to the man that was
learned in the kingdom of heaven beyond the man that
was only learned in the things of earth? I see no great
reason for jest on the subject therefore. And the sneer
is, to say the least, ungenerous; for if the ungodly be
so much the wiser, let them show their wisdom by not
sneering at those who do not happen to possess their
gifts, but who possess what is much more precious.
And then it will take another shape-this shaming of the
poor because of their poverty. Whey will say, "Ah! but
they are poor in spirit; they have not good ideas of
themselves. Hear them-they are always confessing
sinfulness and weakness, and they appear to go through
the world without self-reliance, relying upon some
unseen power, and always distrusting themselves, and
they do not seem to have the pluck that the ungodly
have. Why, we, we who know not God can drink, and they
will stop where we can go. And we can let out an oath,
but they are afraid. And there is many a song that we
can sing that these fastidious folks would not dare to
hear, and there is many an amusement which we can enjoy
which they, poor creatures, are obliged to deny
themselves." Ah! well, well, if they choose to be
miserable, I do not know that you could do better than
pity them. It would be a pity to be angry with them for
not enjoying what you enjoy. Don't, therefore, sneer.
But, after all, sir, you know very well that there is
more manliness in refusing to sin than there is in
sinning; that there is more pluck in saying, "No, I
cannot," than there is in being led by the devil, first
into one sin, and then into another. And these men of
the world that have this high spirit, and are so bold
and brave-what is it better than the high spirit of a
lunatic, who dares to put his hand in the fire? I dare
not do that which would dishonour God. I am thankful to
be such a coward that I dare not venture it. But you
shall not say that we are cowardly. Lived there ever a
more earnest Christian than Havelock? Were there ever
better soldiers than his Highlanders, who learned to
bow the knee before Jehovah? But, O sirs, they could
fight; they were men brave enough in the day of battle,
though they could not be brave in the way in which the
ungodly are. Talk to us Christians about want of
courage! Do you ever wish to see the Ironsides again in
England, with old Oliver Cromwell at their head? We
hate war, but still we quote these instances to show
that a man can bow before God like .a sneaking
Presbyterian, as you call him, and yet rise up and
drive the Cavaliers, like chaff before the wind. It is
not true that we are poor in spirit in the sense that
is often attached to us. We have as much of courage of
the right kind as the ungodly have. But, sir, we can
afford to bear your jest. We are afraid to be damned;
we are afraid to take a leap into the dark future, with
wrath upon our heads; we do tremble before the living
god, though we will tremble nowhere else. We count it
no dim honour to fear him who is a consuming fire. But
this is commonly the cry, "They're a poor set; they're
a poor set of milksops." "Ye have shamed the counsel of
the poor."
But now the next point-a very common jest-is the
reasons that Christian men give for being Christians.
You notice the text says, "the counsel of the poor,"
for the Christian, when he becomes a believer in
Christ, takes counsel about it. He does not believe his
Bible because his grandmother did; he does not accept
the Word of God because some priest has told him it is
true; he takes counsel, and considers. This counsel,
however, is generally sneered at, as though there were
no reasonableness in it; therefore, let me just state
it.
The Christian has taken counsel with his own weakness.
He says, "I cannot trust myself; I am very apt to go
wrong; therefore, will I put myself into the great
Father's hands, and pray him to lead and guide me. I
will not go to my business in the morning until I have
asked for his protection, nor will I close the day
without asking still that I may be under his care." His
reason is because he feels himself to be a weak and
fallible creature, and he wants protection. That looks
to me to be very reasonable, but to some it seems to be
the theme for laughter.
The Christian has next taken counsel with his
observations. He has looked about in the world, and he
could not see that ungodly men derive pleasure from
their sins. He hears them shouting loudly enough
sometimes, but he knows who hath woe, and who hath
redness of the eyes-"they that tarry long at the wine,"
men of drink; "they that go to seek mixed wine." He has
seen the ungodly in their quieter moments, and observed
how unsatisfactory all their best things are, and, upon
the whole, he considers that what the world offers to
its devotees is not worth his seeking for. Moreover,
the Christian man has sometimes seen the sinner die,
and' having seen him die, he has discovered that there
is nothing in the principles of ungodliness to give a
man comfort in his dying hour. Some of us have heard
language from ungodly men in their deaths that we would
hardly like to repeat, the very memory of which makes
our blood chill. I remember once being at the bedside
of a man who alternately cursed and asked me to pray. I
could not pray as I would desire. I did what I could,
and thee he would tell me it was no good; his, sins
would never be forgiven him; and then he would turn
again to blasphemy. It was a dread sight. I never
saw-and I have seen many ungodly people did never saw
one die of whom I could say, "Let me die the death of
this sinner, and let my last end be like his"; nor do I
think such sights are ever or anywhere to be seen. The
Christian man, therefore, having taken counsel of that,
looks for something better that may be his stay in the
time of trouble, and be his comfort in the time of his
departure out of this life. That looks to me to be good
reasoning. I think it is, and yet there are some who
sneer at it.
The Christian man has also taken counsel with the
Bible. Believing it to be God's Word, he feels that one
word of God is worth a ton weight of human reason. He
would sooner have a drachm of revelation than have all
the weight of authority that could be brought to bear
upon his mind. And assuredly, if God be true, he is not
incorrect in his judgment.
Moreover, the Christian man has taken counsel with his
own conscience, and he finds that when he walks near to
God, he is most happy. He discovers that, in keeping
God's commandments, there is great reward, and though
he does not expect to be saved by his works, yet he
finds himself most sustained when he walks most
carefully and jealously before the world, and when most
near to his heavenly Father. Taking such counsel as
this, and finding it so much to his own inward
advantage, I cannot blame him that he still puts his
trust where he does.
Moreover, the Christian man takes counsel with his own
experience. There are some of us who are as sure that
God hears our prayers as we are sure that twice two
make four. It is to us not a conjecture, no, nor even a
belief, but a matter of fact. We are habitually in the
custom of going to God and asking for what we want, and
receiving it at his hands; and it is no use anybody
telling us that prayer is useless. We find it
constantly useful. It is of no avail for people to say
these are happy coincidences. They are very strange
indeed-strange coincidences when they occur again and
again, and again, and God continually hears our
prayers. The witness that the Christian has to the
truth of his religion does not lie in the books of the
learned. He is thankful for them, but his chief witness
lies here-in his own heart, in his own inward
experience. Now we always say that you must speak as
You find. The Christian has found God faithful to him,
has found him support him in the time of trial, has
found him answer his prayers in the hour of distress;
and this is the counsel that he has taken for himself,
and he, therefore, for these reasons relies upon God.
Well, sneer as some may, I think we will do with our
trust in God, my brethren, as the natives of a certain
American State are said to have done when they, instead
of making a law-book, agreed that the State should be
governed by the laws of God, until they had time to
make better-we will continue to put our trust in God
until somebody shall show us something better; we will
still pray, and get answered; we will still bear our
troubles before God, and get rid of them; we will still
rely upon Christ and find comfort until somebody shall
bring us something better, and it won't be just yet;
and, until then, sneers and laughter shall not much
affect us.
And now, once more, the great point at which the
ungodly mostly aim their scoffs is the actual faith of
the believer. He has made God to be his refuge. And
what, what do they say, Why, "It's all canting talk." I
do not particularly know what that means, but if ever
Christian men are accused of being cants, they can make
the retort by saying that the canting is quite as much
on one side as the other, for of all cants the cant
against cant is the worst cant that ever was canted.
But surely if a man shall speak the truth in other
things, and you know he does, it is not fair to say he
does not speak the truth when he says he puts his trust
in God. The man is not insincere.
"Oh!" but they will say, "it is ridiculous-a man
trusting in God." Yes, but you do not think it
ridiculous to trust in yourselves. Many of you don't
think it ridiculous to trust in some public man. Half
of the world is trusting in its riches, and is there
anything ridiculous in leaning upon that arm that bears
the earth's huge pillars up? If so, ridicule on. To
trust weakness seems to you to be sense. I say to trust
Qmnipotence is infinitely superior wisdom, and we will
continue to trust in God, for to us it seems to be no
absurdity.
"But," they will say, "what does your God do for you?
Some of you Christian people are very poor; some of you
very sick-very much in trouble." Mark you, our God
never said we should not be, but, on the contrary, told
us it should be so. What he does for us is this-in six
troubles he is with us, and in the seventh he does not
forsake us. He never made us a promise that we should
be rich; he never made us a promise of constant help;
on the contrary, it is written, "In the world ye shall
have tribulation." But our God does this for us, that
we look upon those troubles as being so much fire that
shall purge our silver: so much of the winnowing fan
that shall drive away the chaff and leave the corn
clean. We glory in tribulation and rejoice in the
afflictions which God has laid upon us. Still, that
will always be a point of jest. But there is one remark
I will make before I leave this. I should like any man
who doubts the reality of faith in God to do go down to
Bristol, and go to Kingsdown and see the orphan-houses
there, which Mr. George Muller has built. Now there
they stand-substantial brick and mortar, and inside
there are 2,500 boys and girls. They eat a good deal,
want a good deal of clothing, and so on. And how comes
the money? All the world knows, and no man can gainsay
it, that it comes in answer to prayer, and as the
result of Mr. Muller's faith-that, that faith has often
been tried, but has never failed. What God has done for
Mr. Muller, he has done for scores of us after our own
way, and in our own walk, and we glorify his name.
Though that stands as a palpable witness, we are not
less able to say than Mr. Muller, there is a God that
heareth prayer, and whoever may jest at faith, we
continue in it still, and glory in it, and rejoice. Now
this is what is the matter of jest for the mockers. But
my time flies, so I must now speak a few words only
upon:-
II. WHO ARE THE MOCKERS?
Our text says they are fools. Well, that is my opinion;
but it does not signify what my opinion may be. The
point that does signify, however, is that it is God's
opinion of every man who is not a believer or trusting
in his God. In plain English, every such man is a fool.
That is God's opinion of him-God that cannot err-who is
never too severe, but who speaks the literal truth-that
he is a fool. Let me add, it will be that man's opinion
of himself one day. If he shall ever be converted-oh!
that he may!-he will think himself a fool to have been
so long an unbeliever; and if not, when the truth of
Scripture shall be proved, and he shall be cast into
hell, then will he see his folly, and own himself to be
what God said before he was, namely, a fool. O sir, do
not run the risk. There was an observation made by a
countryman that is well worth quoting, when he said to
the unbeliever. "I have two strings to my bow; you have
not. Now," said he, "suppose there is no God, I am as
well off as you are; but suppose there is, where are
you?" So can we say, "Suppose, after all, our religion
should be a delusion. It has made us very happy up till
now; but as for you-suppose it should be true? Ah!
where are you then, who have despised it and have
turned away from God?" May each man who does not
believe in his God know how foolish he is. Now as I
gave you the reasons for the poor man's faith, let me
give you the reasons why the unbeliever usually is an
unbeliever. It is principally because he knows not God;
and none of us like to trust a person we don't know. He
knows nothing of the Most High, has never communed with
him, nor even seen him in his works; and, therefore, he
cannot trust him. The unbeliever will also say that he
cannot trust God because he cannot see him, as if
everything that is real must, therefore, be the object
of sight as if there were not forces in nature about
which no doubts can be entertained that are far beyond
the ken of sight. They will also say that they cannot
trust God because they cannot understand him. If we
could understand God, he would not be God, for it is a
part of the nature of God that he should be infinitely
greater than any created mind. I have heard of a man
who went into a smith's smithy one day, and he began
complaining of the wet weather. "Why," said he, "smith,
you talk about Providence! There is too much wet by
half. If there were any Providence, it would manage
things a great deal better. There is the wheat nearly
all spoilt, and the barley is going. I tell you," says
he, "there is no Providence; things don't go right."
The smith took no notice of his observations, but after
a while walked across the smithy, and took down an odd-
looking tool which he used in his craft, and said to
him, "Do you know what that is used for?" "No," said
he, I don't." "Look at it; look at it, and find out."
He did look, and then he said he did not know. The
smith put up that tool, and took down another, an ugly-
looking tool, and says he, "Do you know what I use that
for?" "No," says the man, "I cannot conceive what you
do with that." You can't! Look at it, and see; perhaps
you will find out." He looked at the thing, and then he
said, "No, I really do not know what is the use you put
that to." The smith put it up, and then walked
leisurely back and said, "You are a great dunce. You do
not know the use of my tools, and I am only a smith;
and you set up to judge of the use of God's tools, and
say what is right and what is wrong. You don't even
know about a smithy, and yet, you pretend to know about
the whole world. It is a most unreasonable reason not
to believe in God because I cannot understand him. The
reason at the bottom is this-the ungodly man does not
trust God, because he is God's enemy. He knows there is
a quarrel between the two. He has broken the law, he
has become an enemy to his Maker; and how shall a man
trust his enemy? Besides, he knows that God won't do
what he would like God to do. He would like God to give
him good health to go on in sin; he would like him to
make him happy in his lusts; he would like him to let
him live a sinner and die a saint; he would like him to
shape the world so that man might take his sinful
pleasure and live as he liked, and yet, after all,
receive the wages of a righteous life; and as God won't
do that-won't bring himself down to the sinner's
taste-therefore, the sinner says, "I cannot trust God,"
and then he turns round and laughs at the man who can,
just to quiet his own conscience and keep the little
sense there is within him from rebelling against him.
Now I spoke of the Christian's faith; just let me speak
of the unbeliever's faith. It takes much more faith to
be an unbeliever than to be a believer. I am sure the
philosophies of the present age which are currently set
forth would require a deal more credulity than I am the
master of. I can believe Scripture readily, and without
violence to my soul, but I could not accept the theory
even of the development of our race, which is so much
cried up nowadays, nor a great many other theories.
They seem to me to require a far greater sweep of
credulity than anything that is written in the Word of
God. To the ungodly man this seems reasonable. "It is
reasonable to trust a great man, and to hope that he
will be the maker of you; it is reasonable to trust
your own reason-to believe you can steer your own
course; it is reasonable to be a self-made man, self-
reliant; it is reasonable to look after the main
change; it is reasonable to get all the money you can;
it is reasonable to put your confidence in it (of
course, it has not any wings, and won't fly away); it
is a reasonable and discreet thing to live in this
world as if you were to live for ever in it, and never
think of another world at all." To a great many it
seems to be philosophy to get as far away from God as
ever you possibly can, and then you will get to be a
wise man that the creature is wisest when it forgets
its creator. That is the world's creed, and I can only
say that if they scoff at our creed, we can fairly
enough scoff at theirs. Trust in yourselves! Why, you
are fools to think of such a thing. Trust in your
wealth! Have you not seen rich men disappear? How about
a few years ago when-we must remember it well, and
remember it sorrowfully-how a panic comes, and down go
the towers of the great, and those who seemed to be
rich burst like bubbles And oh! the joys of earth! How
soon are they scattered, how speedily do they
disappear! What are they, after all, but a will o' the
wisp? If it be a wise thing to live in this world, and
never think of dying, God grant that I may be a fool.
If it be a wise thing to think all about this poor
body, and never about my immortal soul, may I never
know such wisdom. If it be a wise thing to go into the
future as a leap in the dark, believing nothing, and
only by that means kept from fear, may I never know
such philosophy. Truly it seems to me to be wisdom that
I, a creature who certainly did not make myself, should
think of my Creator; that I, a sinner, should accept
that blessed way of salvation, which is laid before me
in the Word of God; that I, weak and unable to steer my
own course, should put my hand into the great Father's
hand and say, "Lead me, guide me by thy counsel, and
afterward receive me to glory." This may be jested at
and sneered at, but it can bear a sneer and will
outlive the mocker. Now, lastly:-
III. HOW OUGHT THOSE WHO ARE MOCKED BEHAVE towards
those that at mock at them? Well, the first thing is,
never yield an inch. You young men in the great firms
of London, you working men that work in the
factories-you are sneered at. Let them sneer. If they
can sneer you out of your religion, you have not got
any worth having. Remember you can be laughed into
hell, but you can never be laughed out of it. A man may
by ridicule give up what religion he thought he had,
but if he cast away his soul, his companions who caused
his loss cannot help him in the day of his travail, and
anguish, and bitterness, before the throne of the Most
High. Why be ashamed? "They called me a saint." I
remember once a person calling me a saint in the
street. All I thought was, "I wish he could prove it."
Once a man, passing me in the street, said, "There is
John Bunyan." I think I felt six inches taller at the
least. I was delighted to be called by such a name as
that. "Oh! but they will point at you." Cannot you bear
to be pointed at? "But they will chaff you." Chaff-let
them chaff you. Can that hurt a man that is a man? If
you are a molluscous creature that has no backbone, you
may be afraid of jokes, and jeers, and jests; but if
God has made you upright, stand upright and be a man.
Moreover, there is one thing you should always do when
you are ashamed-pray. The next verse in the Psalm is,
"Oh! that God would turn the captivity of Zion." The
best refuge for a believer in times of persecution is
his secret resort to God. Let him to on his kneed and
say, "My Lord, I have been counted worthy to be spoken
ill of for thy name's sake. Help me to bear it. Now is
my time of trial. Strengthen me to bear this reproach.
Grant that it may be no heavy burden to me, but may I
rather rejoice in it for thy name's sake." God will
help you, beloved.
Then next to that, pray always, most for those who
treat you worst. Make them the constant subjects of
your prayer.
And then I would say, in your actions prove the
sincerity of your prayers by extra kindness towards
those who are unkind to you. Heap coals of fire upon
their head. That is an expression not always explained.
When the crucible is to be brought to a great heat, and
the metal to be thoroughly melted, it is not enough for
the coals all around it to glow. The silversmith that
is desiring to melt it thoroughly will heap them so
that the metal shall be all surrounded by flames. Do
so, I pray you, with any of your enemies; heap
kindnesses upon them. A Christian woman had often
prayed for a very ungodly and unkind husband, but her
prayers were not heard. However she did this, she
treated him more kindly than she had ever done before.
If there was any little thing that she could think of
that would please his palate, if she had to deny
herself, that would be on the table. She kept the house
scrupulously comfortable, and did all she could. And
one day someone said to her, "How is it that you, with
such a husband can act so towards him?" "Well," she
said, "I hope I shall win his soul yet, but if not"-and
then the tears came in her eyes-all the happiness he
will have will be in this life, and so I will let him
have all I can possibly give him, since he has no
happiness in the life to come." Do that with the
ungodly. Lay yourself out to oblige and serve them. Let
it be known of you that the best way to get a good turn
out of you is to do you a bad turn. "Oh!" says one, "it
is too hard. Tread on a worm, and it will turn." And is
a worm to be an example to a Christian? Christ Jesus,
art thou not better for an exemplar than a poor worm
that creeps into the earth? What did our Saviour do but
pray for his murderers? The blood they shed redeemed
them that shed it. We have heard the old story of the
sandal-wood tree that perfumes the axe that cuts it. Do
you so, O Christian! Perfume with your love the axe
that wounds you. Be like the anvil that never strikes
the hammer again, but yet the anvil wears out many
hammers by its indomitable patience. Be patient, be
courteous, be kind-in a word, Christ-like; and how know
you that these very persons who hate you most to-day
will not love you well to-morrow, and come together
with you to the communion table, and together rejoice
in our blessed Saviour?
Now if I have seemed to preach too harshly to-night, it
is not so in my heart. Oh! how I wish you all, everyone
without exception, knew what a blessed life the
Christian life is! I would, not lie for God himself,
but I speak the truth to you. I never knew what perfect
peace was until I looked to Christ upon the cross, and
rested my soul on him. I have had trials, and have
suffered bitter pains, but I have always found
consolation when I have turned my eyes to my bleeding
Saviour, and have given myself up again to the great
Father's hands. He is a blessed Lord. I serve a good
Master. Trust him, give your hearts up to him, and if
you have spoken against his people, or rebelled against
his love, he is willing to receive you. He has no hard
word to say to returning ones. Come to him; come and
welcome. Come just now, and the Lord receive you, for
his mercy's sake. Amen.
Provided by:
Tony Capoccia
Bible Bulletin Board
internet: hyperlink
Box 318
Columbus, NJ 08022