Christ, the Pilgrim’s Strength.
By D. F. Quinby
We are strangers and pilgrims in this vale of tears, and have no continuing city here; out of Christ, no animating hopes; no inspiring faith, nothing cheering to the weary one here. But the call of grace is heard. Our sins are set in order before us, till we sicken at the sight, and sorrow fills our hearts—a sorrow that does not lead to despair, but to repentance. For Jesus speaks to the penitent one: “In me is thy help.” “Thou hast wearied thyself in iniquity, and hast ladened thy soul with a heavy burden which thou canst not bear;” “but come unto me, and thou shalt find rest unto thy soul.” Faith now lifts up its eye to Him in whom is everlasting strength; sees in him all that is wanted to restore one to the favor and image of God. It beholds the complete redemption that is in Christ, and grasps the Infinite as the only refuge, and the only hope of the guilty. And while giving up every other dependence, it hangs alone on him who said, “My grace is sufficient for thee.” The Saviour, beholding the penitent—hearing the confessions of the sinner, and knowing that every hope from any other source has fled, and that the helpless soul relies only on him—smiles graciously, and bids the dying sinner live. Now hope “springs eternal in the human breast”—love flows out to him who is worthy of all the heart’s holiest affection. The eye of faith is now fixed upon the Guiding Star. Jesus has become the author, and is working in the heart by his Holy Spirit and grace until he shall be the finisher, of our faith. And we can say with the poet that now— “Faith doth take a pleasing view,
Hope waits—love sits and sings,
Desire flutters to be gone;
But Patience holds her wings.” We are yet strangers and pilgrims, but we are journeying to the land which is promised unto us, and we have in our view the city that hath foundations, whose maker and builder is God. We are enabled to endure hardness as good soldiers of Jesus Christ, “Looking for and hasting unto the coming of the day of God.” Laying aside every weight, we look forward to the time when our sorrows will all be over forever, when we shall lay hold on eternal life. We count not ourselves as having attained, but forgetting the things which are behind, we press toward the mark for the prize of our high calling’s glorious hope. We have not to measure our own strength alone with our powerful and wily foe, but the Conqueror is uniting his strength with ours. And we know, that while he, single-handed, met the powers of darkness and triumphed, we shall in his strength prevail, and be overcomers through his grace. Let us then fight manfully the battles of the Lord; and may our strengthless souls ever hang on him, in whom is everlasting strength. He careth for us.