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Daily Devotionals
John Gossner's Treasury
He is wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working. Isaiah 28:29. All his works are truth, and his ways judgment. Daniel 4:37. Thy way, O God, is in the sanctuary. Psalms 77:13.
The Lord often leads His children in such narrow ways that they say also, "The bed is shorter than that a man can stretch himself on it: and the covering than that he can wrap himself in it" (Isaiah 28:20). Every moment it seems to them that they are unable to endure; but they do endure, nevertheless; for His invisible hand holds them. He also knows the right time and the right measure. He knows when to lead them into affliction and when to lead them out of it, how far He may go, and how much He dare lay upon them. For "the fitches are not threshed with a threshing instrument, neither is a cart-wheel turned about upon the cummin; but the fitches are beaten out with a staff, and the cummin with a rod. Bread corn is bruised; because he will not ever be threshing it, nor break it with the wheel of his cart, nor bruise it with his horsemen" (Isaiah 28:27-28). In this manner the Lord deals with His loved ones. If He seem to deal harshly with them, yet it is not too harshly; that which is necessary can not be remitted. Without beating it is impossible to separate the wheat from the chaff. What human hand beats so heavily that it crushes the wheat? Shall that be done by the hand of the Lord? No; He only separates the gold from the slag. He is ’’wonderful in counsel, and excellent in working," so that one at length must give Him the testimony, "All His works are truth; all His ways are judgment," and not only judgment, but they are also "in the sanctuary. " One must worship and rejoice. While we do not wish their return, yet we give forever thanks for the ordeals we have gone through. We only lament that we did not sooner appreciate them, and conduct ourselves more quietly while they lasted.
Our souls on Thee we cast them.
Our only refuge Thou!
Thy cheering words revive us,
When pressed with grief we bow:
Thou bear’st the trusting spirit
Upon Thy loving breast.
And givest all Thy ransomed
A sweet, unending rest.
