p. 14 | Restful People by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Dec 9, 1913

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 40, No. 47.

Restful People

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stuttle

I WISH there were more of them in the world. Why?—Because restful people never start quarrels, never produce wars; they never seem to care whether they have the last word or not; they never argue long and earnestly over trifles; and when occasionally they find that they are mistaken, they just take it gracefully and accept the situation. Restful people are the kind that are always welcome everywhere. They never fidget. They don't whine. They are optimistic. They have cultivated a sweet, sunny disposition so long that it is second nature to them to smile, even when things go wrong.

I have found a good many of these people in my life, and I never tire of their company. I met one of them the other day. I knew she belonged to the “restful family,” the very first glance I had of her sweet face. She was an entire stranger to me; but when I went out from her presence, I felt that she was a friend. I was entirely certain that she would not speak unsavory words about me behind my back, because I felt sure that she was not and could not be a hypocrite—that the kindly smile and the helpful, cheery words she made use of were not put on, but came from the heart.

I suppose the youthful David must have seemed a very restful person to the poor, demon-possessed monarch. There was something in this young man's quiet personality and the sweet music which flowed in witching cadence from his fingers, that soothed and stilled the mad tempest which ever and anon raged in the disquieted spirit of the king.

Prince Jonathan was another quiet, peace-loving, restful young man. Inheriting none of his father's restless, fiery disposition, it was the mission of Jonathan to save life rather than to destroy it.

Then there was John, called the Beloved. We can not think of him in any other light than that of a restful person. His epistles constantly breathe forth the spirit of divine love. His love for his Master was constant, beautiful, and touching. When we read his writings, a feeling of peace and quietness settles down upon us, and fills our souls with a comfort to which the world is a stranger. His is the gospel of peace and good will; yet he hesitates not and stammers not in speaking even an unpleasant truth plainly. In describing the work and the mission of the Christ, the loving disciple declares with divine pathos, “He came unto His own, and His own received Him not.” But then, as if the writer would banish the sadness which these pathetic words must ever cause the children of God, the loving disciple makes use of one of the most remarkable utterances in the entire Book,—an utterance so wonderful, so beautiful, so divinely restful to the sin-sick and tempest-tossed sons and daughters of Adam, that it has become the very pillar and groundwork of the Christian's hope: “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

But the acme of perfect restfulness is fully reached in the gracious invitation of the divine Nazarene: “Come unto Me, all ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”

Rest! Ah, that is what the weary world is looking for! Tired of the fever and fret of life, weary of its turmoil and its unsatisfying joys, nauseated with the sickening sweets of sin, homesick and unhappy, the old world is stretching out her trembling arms yearningly toward that which offers her rest.

Shall not you and I point the heavy-laden to Him who is able to give them true rest? Shall we not feed the hungry with the bread of life? Shall we not cry mightily to him that is thirsty, “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters”?

Ah, how well we know that the jaded sons and daughters of folly and fashion have no knowledge of real peace or perfect rest! From one excitement to another, from one scene of riot and dissipation to another, from one orgy of licentiousness and drunkenness to another and another, they rush blindly and madly on, hoping thus to banish thoughts of a coming Judgment—thoughts which will intrude themselves betimes. In the cup of the drunkard, or in some other sensuous pleasure, they seek one moment's forgetfulness—one moment's rest.

O the pity of it! What shall we do to stem the flood of evil and drunkenness and misery and wo? What shall we do to help snatch a few precious, struggling souls from the black, seething, whirling, horrible maelstrom of sin? Ah, we can watch for opportunities to “throw out the life-line”! We can speak a word of cheer and hope to some one whose ears are unaccustomed to such words as you, my sister, know well how to speak. O, let us learn to be restful people!

But while we are looking out with eyes of pity toward a perishing world, let us not forget that our own dear ones need more loving words, more sweet smiles, more tender caresses. What is the matter with us, that we have allowed Satan to incrust our hearts with selfishness? What is the matter with us, that we speak unloving words so often, and beautiful, loving, restful words so seldom? Have we forgotten the blessed instruction of the poet-prophet, when he pleads with us, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people”? O, if we would only learn to be comforters instead of complainers; to be workers instead of whiners; to be filled with gratitude instead of grumbling; to be cheerful instead of cheerless; and instead of restless, to be restful!

O, these quiet, restful people! God bless

them! They never nag. They are peace-makers. They are the backbone of the church. They are to the dreary world what the flowers of spring are to the frosts of winter. Their gentle voices make the sweetest music this old earth knows.

The more we imitate the Master, the more peaceful and restful will we become. Little children will flock to our open arms, as they did to His. The lame, the halt, and the blind will find comfort in our presence, and best of all, we shall win the approval of Him who has commanded us to “serve the Lord with gladness.”

MRS. L. D. AVERY-STUTTLE.