Morning and Evening

Charles H. Spurgeon

April 12, 2010

Morning Reading

My heart is like wax; it is melted in the midst of my bowels.--Psalm
22:14

Our blessed Lord experienced a terrible sinking and melting of soul.
"The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit
who can bear?" Deep depression of spirit is the most grievous of all
trials; all besides is as nothing. Well might the suffering Saviour cry
to His God, "Be not far from me," for above all other seasons a man
needs his God when his heart is melted within him because of heaviness.
Believer, come near the cross this morning, and humbly adore the King
of glory as having once been brought far lower, in mental distress and
inward anguish, than any one among us; and mark His fitness to become a
faithful High Priest, who can be touched with a feeling of our
infirmities. Especially let those of us whose sadness springs directly
from the withdrawal of a present sense of our Father's love, enter into
near and intimate communion with Jesus. Let us not give way to despair,
since through this dark room the Master has passed before us. Our souls
may sometimes long and faint, and thirst even to anguish, to behold the
light of the Lord's countenance: at such times let us stay ourselves
with the sweet fact of the sympathy of our great High Priest. Our drops
of sorrow may well be forgotten in the ocean of His griefs; but how
high ought our love to rise! Come in, O strong and deep love of Jesus,
like the sea at the flood in spring tides, cover all my powers, drown
all my sins, wash out all my cares, lift up my earth-bound soul, and
float it right up to my Lord's feet, and there let me lie, a poor
broken shell, washed up by His love, having no virtue or value; and
only venturing to whisper to Him that if He will put His ear to me, He
will hear within my heart faint echoes of the vast waves of His own
love which have brought me where it is my delight to lie, even at His
feet for ever.

Evening Reading

The king's garden.--Nehemiah 3:15

Mention of the king's garden by Nehemiah brings to mind the paradise
which the King of kings prepared for Adam. Sin has utterly ruined that
fair abode of all delights, and driven forth the children of men to
till the ground, which yields thorns and briers unto them. My soul,
remember the fall, for it was thy fall. Weep much because the Lord of
love was so shamefully ill-treated by the head of the human race, of
which thou art a member, as undeserving as any. Behold how dragons and
demons dwell on this fair earth, which once was a garden of delights.

See yonder another King's garden, which the King waters with His bloody
sweat--Gethsemane, whose bitter herbs are sweeter far to renewed souls
than even Eden's luscious fruits. There the mischief of the serpent in
the first garden was undone: there the curse was lifted from earth, and
borne by the woman's promised seed. My soul, bethink thee much of the
agony and the passion; resort to the garden of the olive-press, and
view thy great Redeemer rescuing thee from thy lost estate. This is the
garden of gardens indeed, wherein the soul may see the guilt of sin and
the power of love, two sights which surpass all others.

Is there no other King's garden? Yes, my heart, thou art, or shouldst
be such. How do the flowers flourish? Do any choice fruits appear? Does
the King walk within, and rest in the bowers of my spirit? Let me see
that the plants are trimmed and watered, and the mischievous foxes
hunted out. Come, Lord, and let the heavenly wind blow at Thy coming,
that the spices of Thy garden may flow abroad. Nor must I forget the
King's garden of the church. O Lord, send prosperity unto it. Rebuild
her walls, nourish her plants, ripen her fruits, and from the huge
wilderness, reclaim the barren waste, and make thereof "a King's
garden."