THIS WORLD IS NOT OUR HOME.
By H. M. Wilkerson
I AM glad this world is not, in its present state, the home of the child of God. There is a curse on this earth. It brings forth thorns and thistles, and as we travel over it we often see graveyards, telling us death is in the land. As we look upon the inhabitants we see sickness, sorrow, pain and trouble on every hand. Even many of those who have no hope beyond this world, say there is nothing here worth living for; and yet they think too much of it to be willing to give it up and prepare for a better one. How is it with us who profess to be looking for Jesus to come and restore this earth to its Eden beauty? Have we got the love of the world in our hearts? If we have the love of the Father is not in us. Are we ashamed of the truth, or of the way, or of the humble life we are required to lead? If so, we are ashamed of Jesus; and of us he will be ashamed before his Father and all the holy angels. How vastly important that we have on the whole armor of God, that we may be able to stand in these last days of peril. We are nearing home, and as we near the shore the perils thicken around us. Satan has come down in great power, knowing his time is short, and is seeking whom he may devour. Then let us be very careful not to get caught in any of his snares, but let us live as pilgrims and strangers here, journeying towards a better land, having a hope that is as an anchor to the soul, both sure and steadfast. What a glorious hope it is—the hope of Jesus' soon coming to cleanse this earth and prepare it as an abode for his obedient children. Then the willing and the obedient shall eat the good of the land. Then there will be rest for the wayworn pilgrim who has toiled on through many trials, who has been sighing for home, who has been looking for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is God. Cheer up then, pilgrims, fight the good fight of faith a little longer. Soon with Paul we shall receive a crown of life if faithful. Soon our sorrows all will cease,
Soon our trials will be o'er,
Soon we'll have a home in bliss,
And dwell in love on that blest shore.