ALL THINGS ARE YOURS by Editor

Publishing Committee · Rochester, N. Y. · Jan 31, 1854

ALL THINGS ARE YOURS.

By Editor

A BROTHER sends us the following excellent communication, written by H. L. H. We know not what paper he took it from.

'Poor in this world—rich in faith—heir of every thing. This sentence contains an epitome of Christian history from the earliest ages to the present time; 'having nothing,' forsaking houses and lands; and yet possessing all things, even 'an hundred fold in this life.' 'Having nothing' that this blinded world can see or do desire—a pilgrim stranger—yea, houseless and homeless sometimes: yet he is rich. Though he has no gold or gems, no titles or honors; though he possesses no fame or glory, he is rich: for the love of God is his; the presence of Jesus is his; the comfort of the Holy Ghost is his; the sure word of prophecy is his; exceeding great and precious promises are his; fellowship of the saints is his; the faith once delivered to the saints is his: the bliss of expectation and the expectation of bliss; the joys of hope and the hope of joy—all these, and even more, are his, even in this dark and stormy world.

But, this, however, is the foretaste, not the fruition; this is the trial, not the reward; this is the warfare, not the victory; this is the labor, not the rest; this is the poverty, not the riches; this is the earnest, not the inheritance; this is the gloom, not the glory; this is the darkness, or, at best, the dim twilight, instead of the glory of the perfect and unending day.

There is, notwithstanding the gloom and sorrow that gather here, a brighter and lovelier scene before us. Beyond the dark night of weeping, comes forth the bright morning of joy; beyond the valley of sighs, is the mountain of singing; beyond the din of battle, is the heavenly song of peace; beyond the howling wilderness, is the Eden of bliss; beyond the barrenness of the desert, is the beauty and the verdure of the Paradise of God; beyond the darkness of the sepulchre, is the light of the resurrection; beyond the sad sleep of death, is the joyful waking to immortal life; beyond the weary pilgrimage, is the blessed home; beyond earth's week of toil, is the Eternal Sabbath of rest; beyond earth's passing gloom, is heaven's unending glory; beyond the endurance of 'tribulation,' the 'fight' of faith, and the 'patience' of hope, is the pilgrim's home, the saint's inheritance, the Christian's portion, the servant's reward, the victor's palm and the conqueror's crown.

There is the New Earth in its unmarred beauty—in its unfading glory—in its unstained purity. There is the wide-spreading kingdom, the far reaching dominion 'of our Lord and of his Christ.' There is the firm throne of Messiah, established in righteousness and truth. There, too, is the King 'in his beauty,' in his 'power and great glory,' 'ruling over men,' 'just,' reigning in glory, that far outrivals the shining of the 'morning without clouds.'

There is the 'Jeweled City,' with its radiant glory and dazzling light—with its burnished battlements and golden streets; there is the pure river with its bright waters and verdant banks; there is the living tree with its monthly fruits and healing leaves, and there is joy and blessedness untold, unfelt, unknown.

No wonder, then, that one who 'walked by faith,' who looked 'not on the things that are seen,' who had been 'caught up to the third heaven,' who had 'heard unspeakable things' while there, and who had, in constant and blissful prospect, 'Salvation with eternal glory'—while reviewing the saints' possessions, while seeing how much was comprehended, and how little was left out, while gazing on the crowns of glory, on the diadems of beauty, on the garments of salvation, on the robes of righteousness, on the glory of the glorified, on the salvation of the saved, and on the vast heritage of the blest inheritors, while his heart throbbed and his bosom swelled with struggling emotions, should exclaim with all the confidence of living faith, 'ALL THINGS ARE YOURS!'