LOOKING FORWARD by Mrs. Emily Reynolds

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Mountain View, California · Mar 21, 1906

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 32, No. 12.

LOOKING FORWARD.

By Mrs. Emily Reynolds

HOW dreary is winter, when the beautiful flowers have all withered, and the leaves have fallen from the trees; when the sweet songs of the birds are no longer heard in the forest, the brown earth is bare, and all nature seems in mourning.

But we look forward with fond anticipation for spring to return, when the green leaves will again appear, and the flowers—beautiful emblems of God's love—will reveal their beauty and exhale their perfume; when the birds will once more warble their joyous songs as if their whole lives were filled with happiness.

How it gladdens our hearts when we walk out and behold the landscape as all nature appears arrayed in splendor, and the little brooks murmur their melodious sounds of joy!

Many have passed the joyous, hopeful springtime of life, through the heat and burden of the long summer, into the autumn fruitage, each season bringing its share of responsibility, its cares, its blessings, and its rewards. But we, to whom the pendulum of time has well-nigh measured our allotted years, can realize in a double sense the meaning of winter.

In our onward march, with so many sad reminders of loved ones who have fallen like the autumn leaves, we pause and wonder why we are left to shiver in this cold world that God made so beautiful and designed to be so good. It seems sometimes that the frozen elements are no colder than the icy pendants that hang to our hearts.

We know that nevermore will the springtime come to us in this world, but we look with longing eyes to that beautiful land where there will be no more winter, but where the warm, life-giving rays of the blessed Sun of righteousness will melt the coldness, and drive away the clouds and darkness that hover over our mental and spiritual horizon here.

I have many dear, young friends scattered throughout the land, and should this article meet the eye of any of them, let it be an assurance that my heart is especially exercised in their behalf, and that their old friend is constantly praying that they may consecrate their young lives to the service of the loving Father who cares for them.

We know it will not be long till He will send His blessed Son to gather His jewels—not one will be forgotten—and I want to see their smiling faces in the earth made new, where we will never grow old, and the cold, chilly blasts of winter will never more be felt.

'Tho the way seems long, my Father; and my soul Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal; While yet I journey through this weary land, Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand Quickly, and straight Lead home Thy child to heaven's gate.'

MRS. EMILY REYNOLDS. Moscow, Idaho.