God Knows by Mrs. M. V. Nowlin

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Oct 7, 1909

God Knows

By Mrs. M. V. Nowlin

MRS. M. V. NOWLIN

Sometimes as we contemplate the future, it seems so dark, so uncertain. We look forward with foreboding to its barred gates, beyond which we can not see. Sometimes we feel afraid and discouraged. It may be the lines of our lives will fall in pleasant places; it may be that only the dark morass of loneliness and sorrow will stretch pathless away for our weary feet. It may be we shall come to a land of Rephidims and Marahs, with scarcely an Elim to bless us in our travels to the goal.

Because we can not know, because we can not see, need we tremble and feel afraid? If we do not know, God does. His eye has scanned every turn of the road. His Father’s heart of love has planned from beginning to end our life’s journey; planned it over the very road that would be best for our feet, holding back every trial except those needful for our best good, those that will be blessings in disguise to help us reach the home land.

But we have failed so often in the past that we are prone to think the future holds no victories for us. The unknown is God’s, not ours. Let us trust him, fellow traveler. The everlasting God, he that neither slumbers nor sleeps, has said, “Fear thou not; for I am with thee; be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.” Did Jacob know, when he left his father’s home?—No; the failures and anguish, the blessings and the victories, were alike hid from him. Mark the fugitive as he flees from home—a deceiver, and a seemingly utter failure. He knows not an inch of the ground he must pass over; but God does. With the past behind him, full of mistakes, and the uncertain future before him, how dark the way to the weary wanderer! No star of hope lights the gloom. On, on he goes, until the sun has sunk beyond the western hills, and daylight fades. Homesick and afraid, he lies down to rest. Afraid of God, afraid of man, the unknown future how appalling! Has God forgotten him, or forsaken him?—Nay, verily; his great love yearns to call his son nearer, that he may know His peace. At last, as the dews of night are falling, with his head pillowed on a stone, hot tears scalding his cheeks, Jacob falls asleep. He dreams. And O, that dream! Glorious vision of the gospel—angels ascending and descending on the Son of man—the mystic ladder connecting earth with heaven. He wakes to know more of the Christ.

“Though, like a wanderer, Daylight all gone, Darkness be over me, My rest a stone; Yet in my dreams I’d be Nearer, my God, to thee.”

How sweet, how blessed, to feel God knows and sees! No path is hid from him. All through the anguish of the darkest night that comes, he guides us with his eye. There is hope in the thought, the kind of hope that made Paul rejoice in tribulation; the kind of hope that can make us also rejoice in tribulation; “the hope that maketh not ashamed.”

Did Jesus forget the little boat in which were his beloved disciples, tossed on the dark billows that stormy night on Galilee?—No. “In storm and darkness the sea had taught them their own helplessness, and they longed for the presence of the Master. Jesus had not forgotten them. The watcher on the shore saw those fear-stricken men battling with the tempest. Not for a moment did he lose sight of his disciples. . . . When their hearts were subdued, their unholy ambition quelled, and in humility they prayed for help, it was given them.” At the very moment they thought they were lost, Jesus was nigh them.

There are disciples of Jesus to-day storm-tossed in life’s great sea, and the night is dark; but the Master is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. He is no respecter of persons, and will not forget his own. He will not forget you, fellow traveler, whoever you may be. His love will guide to the end.

“There is no path in this desert waste, For the winds have swept the shifting sands; The trail is blind where the storms have raced, And a stranger, I, in these fearsome lands. But I journey on with a lightsome tread; I do not falter nor turn aside, For I see his figure, just ahead— He knows the way I take—my Guide. “There is no way in this starless night; There is naught but cloud in the inky skies, The black night smothers me; left and right, I stare with a blind man’s straining eyes; But my steps are firm, for I can not stray; The path to my feet seems light and wide; For I hear his voice—‘I am the way!’ And I sing as I follow him on—my Guide.”

Takoma Park, D. C.