HOME by Mrs. B. F. Hoyt

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Mar 30, 1904

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 30, No. 13.

HOME.

By Mrs. B. F. Hoyt

BY MRS. B. F. HOYT.

WHAT a blessed word! Some one observes that to have a home which a man has himself reared or purchased—a home which he has improved or beautified—a home, indeed, which, with honest pride and natural love, he calls his own—is an additional security for any man's virtue.

Such a home he leaves with regret; to it he gladly returns. There he finds innocent and satisfying pleasure. There his wife and little ones may be happy and safe, and there his best affections center and grow. When the children have all departed, such a home becomes to the husband and wife constantly more dear; for it is now a scene of pleasant memories for the undisturbed declining years!

Then, too, what lapse of time, what varied experience of prosperity or sorrow, can ever efface the good impression made by such a home on the tender heart of childhood? To the tempted youth, to the wanderer from virtue, to the sad victim of misfortune, such remembrance has often proved a strengthening monitor or a healing balm. Nor can this kindly influence wholly fail so long as the dear objects of that family circle retain a place in the memory, connected, as they inseparably are, with thoughts of a father's counsel, a mother's tenderness, a sister's purity and a brother's love.

When God made this beautiful earth, He made one place more beautiful than any other spot. This was the Garden of Eden, and it was the home of Adam and Eve. They had everything to make them perfectly happy. God talked to them, and even angels visited them. O, how happy they were in their Eden home! As we all know, Satan entered to mar and ruin and trample. They disobeyed God, and they were driven forth. God was grieved, and Jesus left his beautiful home in heaven,—His riches, His glory,—to accomplish the great plan through which man might have a home with Him. "Tho He was rich, yet for your sakes He became poor, that ye through His poverty might be rich." 2 Cor. 8:9. One came to Christ and said, "Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest." Jesus replied, "The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head." Think of His poverty that we might have a home with Him!

Then go with Him to the Garden of Gethsemane, and watch with Him while He goes a little aside to pray. See Him cast Himself upon the ground in an agony of weeping and prayer. In the utter loneliness and desolation of this mysterious conflict He is ready to utter the bitter cry of the cross itself, "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?" This first paroxysm of agony, with its strong crying and many tears, lasted, it would seem, a full hour; then He rose up and came to His disciples, and found them sleeping. And while He stood there all tremulous and exhausted, with the bloody sweat upon His brow, and His face, changed and furrowed with pain, gently rebuking them for their failure to watch (even the poor boon of their watching and sympathy failed Him, and He must meet His great conflict alone), He could only pour out His soul again in the same submissive cry, "My Father, if this can not pass away except I drink it, Thy will be done." Matt. 26:42. He has conquered by submission, and He comes forth from the garden with His wonted serenity, to enter upon the closing scene of mockery and death.

Can you see how your divine Redeemer suffered, and not feel that the ransom of our souls is exceedingly precious, that the redemption of our eternal home was effected at an infinite price?

"Brethren, while we sojourn here, Fight we must, but should not fear. Foes we have, but we've a Friend, One who loves us to the end. Forward, then, with courage go, Long we shall not dwell below; Soon the joyful news will come, Child, your Father calls, come home." Riverside, Cal.