Our Refuge and Strength by Frank M. Wilcox

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 23, 1911

Our Refuge and Strength

By Frank M. Wilcox

THE Lord declares himself the strength and refuge of his people, “a very present help in trouble.” How comforting is this assurance! What strength it affords for these times of temptation and peril! We are engaged in the last great conflict with the powers of evil. We shall be brought often into strait places; difficulties will beset us round about, and it will seem many times that we are so hedged in that there is no way of escape. To whom shall we turn for counsel? Where shall we find comfort in our distress? Where a refuge from the storm? How blessed the assurance, “God is our refuge and strength”!

The “little flock,” God’s remnant people, are scattered abroad throughout the earth. Here and there is one laboring to hold up the standard of truth. Here and there are families living alone and apart from all of like precious faith,— children with unbelieving parents, wives with unbelieving husbands and children, or husbands whose wives know not God. These need solace and comfort which they can not obtain from a cold, unfeeling world. They need help which even associated believers can not impart.

There are hours of darkness that assail the individual soul, hours of personal need which only God can appreciate. It seems that all humanity is powerless, and the soul stands alone in its desolation. At such times God is the only refuge. His sympathizing eye sees the situation. His heart feels for the tried and tempted one. He himself has trodden the winepress alone; he has lived and labored and toiled and struggled without human sympathy or help; therefore he knows and senses all of human loneliness and woe.

Poor, weary toiler in the Master’s vineyard, bear this in mind. Though you may be laboring under India’s burning sun, in Africa’s wilds, in plague- and famine-stricken China, or in the lonely islands of the sea, cut off from human fellowship and sympathy and love, remember the source of your power. The great God of heaven is your mighty helper, and you are as near the throne of grace as are any of your brethren in the home land. Calcutta, Peking, Bulawayo, Buenos Aires, and lonely Pitcairn are all as near to heaven as Washington or Mountain View. Roll your burden on the Lord, cast yourself at his feet, pleading his mercy. Enter into the communion and fellowship of his Holy Spirit; come so near to him that you can feel the beating of his great heart of love for you. This is your privilege. To your efforts God will respond; for the Master says, “Seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you.”

And you, tired, troubled mother, this message of strength is for you. Alone in your family, shut up for the most part within four walls, where you are seeking to live for God, he knows your burdens, your heartaches, your trials. He is your staff and stay. To him you may go with every perplexity. There is no trial so trivial, no difficulty so small, but that he will give it consideration. Take a little time to go before him. Tell him freely just what you need to meet the petty annoyances; tell him just where you fail. Ask him for hope, courage, cheerfulness, power. Believe he hears your cry, and then go on with a happy heart, doing every duty, menial though its nature, as for him. His love will sing in your heart, and your service, made his service by consecration and faith, will be one of joy.

Sad, grieving mourner, to you God speaks. Have you lost all, and is hope buried in the tomb? O, God still lives! And he holds the key to the house that

holds your treasure. He has passed through death. He drank the dregs of the cup of suffering and sorrow. From the depth of your despair, look up. Look away from the darkness of self to the Light of life. Look to the Man of sorrows, to the God of all comfort. “He doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men.” He wounds that he may heal, bruises that he may bind up again, not for his pleasure but for our profit. He will fill the aching void, and his loving sympathy and fellowship will prove as balm to the crushed spirit.

And so to every class, to the people of God in every place and in every circumstance to-day, the word of the Lord is, “God is our refuge and strength.” To every longing heart he speaks. To every upraised hand he reaches down. Let us be of good courage. Let us place our hand in God’s, and sing the song of faith even in the darkness. We know not what scenes wait on the morrow in our experience; but we do know that “though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea; though the waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof,” we have nothing to fear; for “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.”

We need to be still, and know that God is over all. We need to take time daily from our duties to withdraw into the secret of his presence in prayer and meditation, and thus obtain strength from him for all of life’s conflicts. The long night of sin will soon be gone, the glorious day of victory will soon dawn. The battle will be over, the race will be run, and we shall be gathered around the great white throne. We shall look upon the face of him whom we have learned to love; we shall clasp the pierced hand of him who has been our power and stay. For that supreme hour of happiness we may well endure even unto the end. He has trodden the way before us. He knows the dangers and pitfalls, the griefs and sorrows, the temptations and conflicts. He will go with us in all our journey. Let us rejoice in his blessed companionship.

F. M. W.