EXODUS ii. 11-25.

G.o.d prepares us for the greater crusades by more commonplace fidelities.

Through the practice of common kindnesses G.o.d leads us to chivalrous tasks. Little courtesies feed n.o.bler reverences. No man can despise smaller duties and do the larger duties well. Our strength is sapped by small disobediences. Our discourtesies to one another impair our worship of G.o.d. The neglect of the "pointing" of a house may lead to dampness and fatal disease.

And thus the only way to live is by filling every moment with fidelity. We are ready for anything when we have been faithful in everything. "Because thou hast been faithful in that which is least!" That is the order in moral and spiritual progress, and that is the road by which we climb to the seats of the mighty. When every stone in life is "well and truly laid"

we are sure of a solid, holy temple in which the Lord will delight to dwell. The quality of our greatness depends upon what we do with "that which is least."

MAY The Fourteenth

_CALAMITY AS REVEALER_

"_In the year that King Uzziah died I saw the Lord._"

--ISAIAH vi. 1-8.

He lost a hero, and he found the Lord. He feared because a great pillar had fallen: and he found the Pillar of the universe. He thought everything would topple into disaster, and lo! he felt the strength of the everlasting arms. When Uzziah lived Isaiah had forgotten his Lord. He so depended on the earthly that he had overlooked the heavenly. Uzziah concealed his Lord as a thick veil can hide a face. And when Uzziah died, when the earthly king pa.s.sed away, the eternal King was revealed; as when by the pa.s.sing of an earth-born cloud the moon reigns radiant in the open sky.

And thus it is that apparent calamity is often the minister of revelation.

The great storm clears the air, and luminous vistas come into view. The howling wind of adversity drives away the earth-born clouds and we see the face of G.o.d. Our sorrows prove the occasion of our visions. We see new panoramas through our tears. Bereavement gives us spiritual surprises, and death becomes the servant of life. And so it happens that days which began in gloom end in revelation, and we keep their recurring anniversary with deepening praise.

MAY The Fifteenth

_G.o.d IS WIDE-AWAKE_

"_Jeremiah, what seest thou? And I said, I see a rod of an almond tree._"

--JEREMIAH i. 7-19.

And through the almond tree the Lord gave the trembling young prophet the strength of a.s.surance. The almond tree is the first to awake from its wintry sleep. When all other trees are held in frozen slumber the almond blossoms are looking out on the barren world. And G.o.d is like that, awake and vigilant. n.o.body antic.i.p.ates Him. Wherever Jeremiah was sent on his prophetic mission the Lord would be there before him. Before the prophet's enemies could get to work the Lord was on the field. In the wintriest circ.u.mstances of a prophet's life G.o.d is wide awake: "He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep."

And still the almond tree has its heartening significance for thee and me.

Our G.o.d is wide-awake. He looks out upon our wintry circ.u.mstances, and nothing is hid from His sight. There is no unrecognized and uncounted factor which may steal in furtively and take Him by surprise. Everything is open. He is wide-awake on the far-off field where the isolated missionary is ploughing his lonely furrow. He is wide-awake on the field of common labour where some young disciple finds it hard to keep clean hands while he earns his daily bread.

MAY The Sixteenth

_THE DETAILS OF PROVIDENCE_

"_The very hairs of your head are all numbered._"

--MATTHEW x. 24-31.

Providence goes into details. Sometimes, in our human intercourse, we cannot see the trees for the wood. We cannot see the individual sheep for the flock. We cannot see the personal soul for the ma.s.ses. We are blinded by the bigness of things; we cannot see the individual blades of gra.s.s because of the field.

Now G.o.d's vision is not general, it is particular. There are no "ma.s.ses"

to the Infinite. "He calleth His own sheep _by name_." The single one is seen as though he alone possessed the earth. When G.o.d looks at the wood He sees every tree. When He looks at the race He sees every man.

And, therefore, I need not fear that "my way is overlooked by my G.o.d." He knows every turning. He knows just where the strain begins at the hill. He knows the perils of every descent. He knows every happening along the road. He knows every letter that came to me by this morning's post. He knows every visitor who knocks at the door of my life, whether the visitor come at the high noon or at the midnight. "There is nothing hid." "The very hairs of your head are all numbered."

MAY The Seventeenth

_MY BODILY INFIRMITIES_

JOHN ix. 1-12.

An infirmity becomes doubly burdensome when we give it a false interpretation. The weight of a thing is determined by our conception of it. If I look upon my ailment as the stroke of an offended G.o.d, I wear it like the chains of a slave. If I look upon it as the fire of the gracious Refiner, I can calmly await the beneficent issue. It is my Lord, engaged in chastening His jewels!

And so our Master first of all relieves the blind man of the false interpretation of his infirmity. "_Neither did this man sin, nor his parents._" That lifts the sorrow out of the winter into the spring. It sets it in the warm, sweet light of grace. It becomes transfigured. It wears a new face, placed there in "the light of His countenance."

And then our Lord relieves the blind man of the infirmity itself. The ministry of blindness was accomplished, and sight was given. No man is kept in the darkness a moment longer than infinite love deems good. Our Lord does not overlook the prison-house, and leave us there forgotten. "He that keepeth Israel shall neither slumber nor sleep." So cheer thee, my soul! The Lord is on thy side! The Miracle-worker knows His time and "the dreariest path, the darkest way, shall issue out in heavenly day."

MAY The Eighteenth

_BLINDED JUDGMENTS_

JOHN ix. 13-25.

Here is a ceremonialism which is blind to the humane. Its scrupulous ritualisms have dried up its philanthropy. It thinks more of etiquette than equity. It esteems genuflexions more than generosity. It values the husk more than the kernel. It is Sabbatarian but not humanitarian. My G.o.d, deliver me from all pious conventionalities which make me indifferent to the ailments and cries of my fellow-men!

And here is a dense prejudice which is blind to the evident. "_They did not believe that he had been blind._" A prejudice can deflect the judgment, as subtle magnetic currents can deflect the needle. The film of an ecclesiastical prejudice can be so opaque as to make us "blind to facts." We do not "see things as they are." Our perverted eyes give us a crooked world.

And here is a bitter violence which is blind to the glory of the Lord. "We know that this man is a sinner!" And so it comes to that. Our judgments can become so warped that when we look upon Him, "who is the chief among ten thousand and the altogether lovely," "there is no beauty that we should desire Him"! And therefore let this be my daily prayer, "Lord, that I might receive my sight!"

MAY The Nineteenth

_THE ROCK OF EXPERIENCE_

JOHN ix. 26-41.