SET APART by Mrs. M. N. Van Benschoten

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Dec 21, 1888

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 14, No. 49.

"SET APART."

By Mrs. M. N. Van Benschoten

It was in the sweet June days. A young mother, who had two small children and the entire work of the family to do, arose early, while yet the children slept, that she might uninterruptedly commune with Christ. Noiselessly she entered the parlor, so hushed and still, and opened a window eastward, toward the dawn. The fresh, cool breath of the morning swept in.

"I have come early to meet thee, my Father," she prayed; "speak some precious word to me." Opening her Bible, her eyes fell upon these words: "But know that the Lord hath set apart him that is godly for himself."

With a strange, penetrating power the words came, thrilling her heart. Set apart! For himself—alone! A feeling of great awe and sweetness fell upon her, and as she waited before him it seemed to pervade her entire being with gracious, mollifying influence, like most precious ointment.

The breaking of the day was not so brilliant, so clear or discerning as the light within. Separated unto God! positive, clear, distinct, standing out in bold relief. No such separation had ever been hers before. Yet she knew of consecration unto God. Thoughtfully she had dedicated every redeemed power unto the Most High. But that was her act—this was God's. He had accepted the offering, and now in the intense electric light of his Spirit showed her that he had "separated her unto himself." Henceforth "holiness unto the Lord" must beam forth from all her life, as of old it glistened on the sacred vessels."

Brighter and brighter grew the morning. Softly came the sound of little voices. Was earth, then, with its cares, so near to Heaven? Did its horizon verily lean against the skies? Ah, yes; but now, as never before, it lay bathed in the wondrous after-glow. The world could never seem quite the same. Life could nevermore be common-place. The ceaseless round of every-day toil,—the tying of a little shoe, the sweeping of a room, or homelier duties,—could nevermore be called drudgery. Now that this secret of the Lord lay hidden in her heart, the round of humble duties was lifted into "service for God," while "deeds of week-day holiness fell from her noiseless as the snow."

The days came and went, apparently as before; but to her life had a richer meaning. She was her own no more—on hand and lip and heart was inscribed, "Sacred to Jesus," while a flood-tide of joy and blessedness weaned her from all unhallowed pleasures.

"How strange you are!" said a friend. "You bring religion into everything, and talk about it as easily as about anything else." "Why not?" she replied. "To live is Christ. We know of no life separate from Jesus."

Will the great mass of God's children ever come to thoroughly understand that the garments of holiness are for every-day wear—the beautiful garments, white and shining?

"Week-day holiness" is what the world needs. Not cloistered saint or monastic vows, but men and women who vindicate by their holy lives the promises of God; those who prove by the sweetness and power of their daily living the verity of their own professed allegiance to Jesus Christ.—Mrs. M. N. Van Benschoten, in Guide to Holiness.