Thou remainest" (Heb. 1:11).
There are always lone hearth-fires; so many! And those who sit beside them, with the empty chair, cannot restrain the tears that will come. One sits alone so much. There is some One unseen, just here within reach. But somehow we don't realize His presence. Realizing is blessed, but--rare. It belongs to the mood, to the feelings. It is dependent on weather conditions and bodily conditions. The rain, the heavy fog outside, the poor sleep, the twinging pain, these make one's mood so much, they seem to blur out the realizing. But there is something a little higher up than realizing. It is yet more blessed. It is independent of these outer conditions, it is something that abides. It is this: recognizing that Presence unseen, so wondrous and quieting, so soothing and calming and warming. Recognize His presence--the Master's own. He is here, close by; His presence is real.
Recognizing will help realizing, too, but it never depends on it. Aye, more, immensely more, the Truth is a Presence, not a thing, a fact, a statement. Some One is present, a warm-hearted Friend, an all-powerful Lord. And this is the joyful truth for weeping hearts everywhere, whatever be the hand that has drawn the tears; by whatever stream it be that your weeping willow is planted. --S. D.Gordon
When from my life the old-time joy have vanished
Treasures once mine, I ma) no longer claim
This truth rnay feed my hungry heart, and furnished
Lord, THOUREMAINEST! THOU art still the same
When streams have dried, those streams of glad refreshing
Friendships so blest, so rich, so free
When sun-kissed skies give place to clouds depressing
Lord, THOUREMAINEST! Still my heart hath THEE.
When strength hath failed and feet now worn and weary
On gladsome errands may no longer go
Why should I sigh, or let the day be dreary
Lord, THOUREMAINEST! Could'st Thou more bestow
Thus through life's days-whoe'er or what may fail me
Friends, friendships, joys, in small or great degree
Songs may be rnine, no sadness need assail me
Lord, THOUREMAINEST! Still my heart hath THEE.
D. Smith