Cords by Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stutle

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Dec 12, 1911

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 38, No. 49.

Cords

By Mrs. L. D. Avery-Stutle

ONE day I heard a loud outcry in the direction of my neighbor's yard. I glanced from the window. There, tied by a stout cord attached to his tiny waist, was a little toddler of about two years, struggling manfully to free himself. Evidently the little fellow had early formed his own ideas of freedom.

Then I turned my head. There, in a chair on the piazza, calmly sat the babe's mother. And still the air was rent with shrill screams of protest from the child. How easily could she have hurried to the rescue! How quickly could she have unbound her child, or cut the restraining cord! Yet I knew she would not — that she could not, in reason, give her child his own way; she dared not unbind him. Why? Was she cruel, unreasonable, unjust?

Verily, no; but with her superior wisdom and foresight, she saw the dangers of the street for her little son. There were whirling automobiles, and heedless drivers, and prancing horses, and reckless riders, and a thousand and one kindred dangers which the untrained eye of the infant failed to appreciate.

O, no; mother-love bound the restraining cord, and mother-love refused to loosen it. Aye, more; the stronger the cord, and the more firmly it holds her child, the greater the proof of the mother-love.

Well, while the little one still screamed and tugged at the rope, I tried to learn a lesson. I had been vaguely discontent with life. There seemed to be some restraining hand reaching out to hinder my most laudable efforts toward doing good. O, if I might only accomplish the end I sought — had been seeking for years! But how often, just as I had almost attained my object, some chain, forged with unbreakable fetters of steel, had been riveted about me, and some mountain of difficulty reared its stubborn head right in my pathway, and lo! I was as helpless as the infant before me!

But now I began to wonder if it might not perhaps be just as necessary for the all-wise Father to bind me, hand and foot, by the cords of circumstances.

Has it ever seemed that you were prevented by a hard and cruel fate from doing the good you were really capable of doing? Does the path which you are almost forced to tread seem hard and barren and commonplace, and your life bitter and unproductive of good, until sometimes you forget, and murmur against the kind and loving hand which binds us about, only for our own good?

Perhaps we are all apt to reach out after the unattainable, and to aspire to heights which it would not be safe for us to scale. It is infinitely better and safer to be tied with cords which bind us to the solid ground, than to aspire to dizzy heights from which we are sure to fall, unless preserved by a miracle of grace.

Ah, blessed, I say, be the cords of infinite love and wisdom which bind us to the lowly and humble path of duty!

Then there are cords of habit — good and bad; and, thank God, the good habits hold us quite as firmly as do the bad, if we rely upon the strength of the Mighty One. Even the galling chains of a bad habit may be snapped asunder in the name and strength of the Captain of our salvation.

Once, among the mountains of Virginia, a young lad was flying a large kite. Yards upon yards of string had been unwound, a stiff breeze was blowing, and in his excitement the lad did not notice a deep gully just before him. But one of his companions saw the danger, just in time. It was too late to shout to the boy and warn him of his peril. Quick as thought the young hero sprang before his companion, and cut the string of the kite.

The boy tottered and fell — upon the very verge of the chasm.

O, it is dangerous to parley with evil habits or bad temper or impatience or intemperance. They are kites of vanity and sin, and will lead us over the brink into eternal ruin. Let us cut the string, in the name of the Lord, and let the kite go.

Sometimes our feet, which should be swift to run upon errands of mercy, are bound about by foolish cords of vanity. "What will the world say of me if I am kind and helpful toward the outcasts from society — those whose business it is to pander to all that is bad and vile in man? If I make an effort to save such as these, will I not run the risk of bringing criticism upon myself?"

So we forget the infinite value of a human soul, and that "even Christ pleased not Himself," and we sit, like Simon the leper, in the seat of the scorner, and allow our hands and feet to be bound by the cords of vanity, and whisper to ourselves, as did Simon, "For this woman is a sinner."

O, let us cut the cruel cords of vanity and envy and jealousy, and hasten to bind ourselves to the suffering heart of humanity, even as did our divine Lord, by the cords of a love that is stronger than death,—a love which was offered upon Calvary for the salvation of every suffering son and daughter of Adam.