The Day of the Lord Cometh.
By Elmira O. Davis
“Blow ye the trumpet in Zion, and sound an alarm in my holy mountain: let all the inhabitants of the land tremble: for the day of the Lord cometh, for it is nigh at hand.” MANY of the signs which Jesus gave us precursors of his coming are taking place around us. As the opening leaves precede the summer verdure, and chirping birds betoken the coming dawn, so these are also glorious indications of the near approach of Zion’s King. In this day of preparation, the cars are ready to bear his servants on with lightning speed to rouse a slumbering church, and warn a guilty world to prepare to meet their coming doom. The spirit of our age is haste. Our mighty foe has come to earth with power because his time is short. Men’s minds are all engrossed with his wonder-working schemes. The early dawn and midnight lamp still find them toiling on; their time, talents, and even eternal life, must go, a sacrifice on Mammon’s impious shrine. Life is swiftly passing like a weaver’s shuttle; then seize your prizes while you can. The mighty current, on its downward course, bears all on its mad bosom who will not stem the tide. Each daily revolution of this old earth gives an ever-increasing impetus to those who make this world their all. Lovers of wealth, votaries of fashion, pleasure-seekers, all, improve your chance while yet you may. But, oh! a day is coming, “cruel both with wrath and fierce anger, to lay the land desolate; and he shall destroy the sinners thereof out of it.” In the midst of this perplexity of nations, God commands the trumpet to be blown in Zion, and an alarm sounded in his holy mountain. His people are hastening to gather the jewels from the rough materials of earth, that they may become polished stones, fit for that glorious temple that shall soon shine in the city of our God. The trumpet must give a certain sound, or who will prepare for the coming conflict? Who will come up to the help of the Lord and gather those that soon can shine as stars in the kingdom of our Father? Not those who are clinging closely to this world; for they are dizzy with its idle whirl. They cannot discern the rising beams of the glorious Sun of righteousness; how can they point others to its healing light? “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath no money;” “come, buy,” “without money and without price.” Yes, come to the living waters, you who are striving to slake your thirst at the turbid streams of worldly pleasure and find yourselves still feverish and unsatisfied. “There is a river, the streams whereof shall make glad the city of God.” Come, quaff from this life-giving fountain, and prove for yourselves the strength of God’s everlasting love. This stream runs low around the foot of Calvary’s cross. It finds its source in God’s eternal throne. There it is a mighty river, boundless and unfathomable; there plunge, and though your sins are of deep crimson hue they will become as wool, and you made purer than the spotless snow. But the path that leads thee there is steep; its ascent, rough and rugged. The summer sun shines hot, the desert sands oft scorch our weary feet, and winter frosts and snows oft chill them through. Earth’s bitter curse seems pressing heavily, and oft we strain our longing eyes and gaze beyond these shadows dim, and sigh, “Are we not almost home?” Ofttimes, while fainting ’neath our weight of care, we close our eyes and almost long to lay life’s burdens down, when, lo! an angel comes, and, pointing to the healing stream, bids us arise and gird our armor on. We hear its murmuring melodies, we drink, and find our strength renewed to struggle on in life’s great battlefield; and this refreshing draught becomes in us, a well of water, upspringing into everlasting life. Come, rich and poor, come, whosoever will, the mansions are prepared, the marriage feast is spread, come, and partake of the gracious bounties from our loving Lord. But, oh! say you, the way is so strait how can we travel there? Yes, all too strait for fashion and her train; too steep to ascend with such enormous heaps of sin and folly, too low for the high heads that never bow in humble adoration at their Saviour’s feet. But here you may exchange your flimsy trappings for the garments of humility and praise; the spirit’s deep unrest, for peace and joy such as the worldly wise can never know. O sinner, haste and find a refuge from the coming storm. We hear the muttering thunder in the distance roar. Already clouds are rising that soon will envelop our earth in gloom, with not one glimmering ray of hope to light the darkness of eternal death. The gospel sun will sink in deep oblivion, and never, never beam again on this dark night of wild despair. But with this rayless night there comes a cloudless morning. With faith’s discerning eye, God’s watchmen hail these dire calamities as harbingers of good. Lone watcher, waiting through the long, dark night of sorrow, lo! glimpses of the rising day-star already gild the eastern hill-tops with its glorious light. The glad morning cometh, and the shadows flee away. Already rays of glory come from the many mansions that our Saviour has been fitting for his weary laborers’ home. The angels soon will gather all the waiting ones to receive their great reward in the kingdom of their Father, and go out, no, nevermore.