by Thomas Watson
When God puts his children to the school of the
cross, he deals with them tenderly, because he does not leave them
without a promise, "God is faithful, who will not allow you to be
tempted above that you are able." He will not lay a giant's burden upon
a child's back — nor will he stretch the strings of the instrument too
much, lest they should break. If God sees it good to strike with one
hand, he will support with the other; either he will make the faith
stronger, or render the yoke lighter.
God has never promised a charter of exemption from
trouble — but he has promised to "be with us in trouble." Better be in a
prison with God's presence and God's promises — than be on a throne
without them.
A true Christian finds comfort in God's afflicting
rod, "as sorrowful — yet always rejoicing." A Christian is like a bird
that can sing in the dark days of winter, as well as in the lightsome
months of summer.
God made for some of the martyrs, a prison as sweet
as a garden of flowers — what then will Heaven be! If afflicting
mercy is so great — what will be crowning mercy!
Christians mistake in supposing that, when God
afflicts, he ceases to love. Affliction is his pruning-knife. He would
rather have the branches of his vine bleed, than be unfruitful. He
prunes us, that we may bring forth "the peaceable fruits of
righteousness."
No vessel can be made of gold without fire. Just so,
it is impossible that we can be made "vessels of honor," unless we are
melted and refined in the furnace of affliction.
God's rod is a pencil to draw Christ's image more
distinctly upon us. It is good there should be a symmetry between the
Head and the members. To be part of Christ's mystical body, we must be
like him, "He was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief." Hence it
is good to be like Christ, though it be by sufferings.
The loadstone of mercy does not draw us so
near to God as do the cords of affliction.
Affliction is a bitter root — but it bears sweet
fruit, "It yields the peaceable fruit of righteousness."
Affliction is God's flail to thresh off the husks,
not to consume the precious grain.
There is more evil in a drop of sin, than in a sea of
affliction!
The more the diamond is cut — the more it sparkles.
The heavier the cross is — the heavier is the saint's crown.
The vessels of mercy are seasoned with affliction,
and then the wine of glory is poured in.
In all our crosses, God has a kindness for his
people. As there was no night so dark but Israel had a pillar of fire to
give light — so there is no condition so cloudy but there is the light
of consolation. David sang "of goodness and mercy."
Affliction is a badge of adoption; it is God's seal
by which he marks his own people. A holy man, suffering severely from
some wounds, pointing to them, said, "These are the jewels with
which God decks his children."
As the painter mixes with his dark shadows bright
colors, so does God mingle the dark and bright colors — his crosses and
his blessings — and so causes "all things to work together for good to
those who love him."
God usually lets it be darkest before the morning
star of light and cheerfulness appears.
God has a hand in affliction — but no hand in sin.
Afflictions are sharp arrows — but shot from the bow of a loving Father.
God had one Son without sin — but no son without
stripes. God puts his children to school at the cross, and there they
learn best. God's children sing most sweetly when God hedges up their
way with thorns, Hosea 2:15.
There are encouragements to suffer afflictions — but
none to commit sin.
Fiery trials make golden Christians, Proverbs 17:3.
Although affliction has a sting to wound — it has
wings to fly, Isaiah 35:10.
When the wind of affliction blows upon the believer,
God is in the wind. When the fire of affliction kindles upon him, God is
in the fire to sanctify, to support, to refine.
A true Christian carries Christ in his heart, and the
cross on his shoulders.
The Apostle Paul had his prison songs. When
the saints taste most of the wrath of man, they feel most of the love of
God.
We think God cannot favor us except he has us in his
lap. Yet he loves his people when he is giving them the bitter drink of
affliction. God's rod and God's love, they both stand together. It is no
love in God to let men go on in sin, and never smite. God's greatest
curse, is when he afflicts not for sin. Let us feel God's hand,
so that we may have his heart.
Christ and his cross are never parted, for it is too
much for the Christian to have two heavens — one here, and one
hereafter.
In every cloud a child of God may see a rainbow of
mercy shining; thus God chequers his providences, and mingles
goodness with severity.
The goldsmith loves his gold when it is in the
furnace, and so does God love his children when he places them in the
crucible of affliction. It is only to separate the dross, not to consume
the gold. "Whom he loves, he loves to the end."
The deluge brought the dove to the ark — the floods
of sorrow make us hasten to Christ.
God only threshes the precious wheat — but he burns
the useless chaff. He chastens the righteous — but he condemns the
wicked.
The nature of affliction is quite changed, when
experienced by a godly man. It is to him, by Divine chemistry, turned
into a blessing; it becomes a love-token, a badge of adoption, a
preparatory to Heaven.
The cross, although it be of God's laying, is of our
making. "I will bear the indignation of the Lord, because I have sinned
against him."