p. 1 | In the Wilderness by Mariana Farningham

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Oct 20, 1874

In the Wilderness.

By Mariana Farningham

“Tempted like as we are.”

After the glory resting on the brow Of Christ, the Son of God, there came deep gloom. He stood with John in Jordan, and came up Out of the water, when before his eyes The heavens were opened, and the light shone down, And, as a dove, the Spirit of the Lord Lighted upon the Saviour, while a voice Said sweetly, “Thou art my beloved Son In whom I am well pleased.”

Then Christ went forth To meet the darkness and the loneliness, The hunger and mysterious suffering Of all the tempted ones. The Spirit led Away into the barren wilderness, And the obedient Saviour followed him. Away from happy homes and merry bands Of household friends, away from lighted streets, And from the rosy freshness of the world, Where little children played, and where young hearts Beat high with hope and joy. He turned his face Unto the desert shadows. Not for him The sweet, sweet talk of simple budding flowers, And warbling of the winsome, joyous birds; But the unwavering silence of the night, And barrenness and solitude were his.

For forty awful days the Son of God Was tempted. Satan troubled him with doubts And base suggestions. The great enemy Of all our souls engaged in fight with him, Hoping to conquer. What we feel, he felt: He knew the shrinking pain of those whose hearts Wonder at all the strange, dim ways of God. He knew the faintness and the weariness, The pitiful appeal unto the strong, The feeling in the dark in hope to find The firm, close clasp of a dear Father's hand: The sorrowful uplooking of mute eyes, The panting of the spirit after God. He knew the trouble, but knew not the sin. Patient, enduring, rock-like in his strength The Saviour stood, and gained the victory.

But Satan would not easily resign His hope of triumph; and the Son of God Had fasted forty days, and hungry grew. Long years before, the manna fell from heaven, And all the hungry hosts came from their tents And gathered daily food for every day. God loved his children, would not let them starve, But sent the quails to nestle near their hands, And bade the gentle showers of food from heaven Fall in the desert. Yet his own dear Son Fainted for hunger, that himself might know How best to help and pity all the poor Who in this suffering world should pray to him. And God could watch and let no manna fall! Oh, wonderful is he, who loves us so, That for our sakes he let the Saviour fast!

And when the tempter came to him, he said, “If thou indeed canst be the Son of God Command these stones that they be changed to bread.” But Jesus answered, It is written down, “Man shall not live alone by daily bread, But by the bread of life, which God doth speak.”

Satan was not yet beaten, and he took The Saviour to the holy city then, And set him on the temple's pinnacle, And spoke with sneering words to Christ the King, “Thou art the Son of God! Then cast thyself Down from the temple! It is written too That God shall give his angels charge of thee, Lest thou should dash thy foot against a stone.” In patience and in meekness, yet in words Of grave rebuke, replied the holy Lamb, “Thou shalt not tempt the Lord thy God;” his word Declares it. Then the angry, worsted fiend Made yet a bolder, blasphemous attempt. He took him to a mountain, where Christ saw The kingdoms of the world; and thus he spoke, “If thou fall down and worship me, to thee The world shall all be given.” But then The Saviour rose in majesty, and smiled Upon the dark-faced tempter of our race, And sent him from his presence rapidly, “Get thee behind me, Satan, for God's word Has said, Thou shalt but worship God the Lord, Him only shalt thou serve.”

And in that hour The victory was won. The conquered foe Stole from his presence, and the angels came And ministered unto him.

Do you know, Ye who are tempted in life's wilderness, That 'twas for you Christ suffered? Do not fear The tempter's power, for Christ is standing by With loving hands to bless and comfort you, And grave, stern glance, to send the foe away. Oh, do not feel forsaken; trust in him; And ever, for His sake who died for you, Go boldly forward. You shall victors be, And need not hang your heads, and need not fast, For he has won for you the feast of joy.

—Mariana Farningham.