The Spurgeon Series 1855 & 1856. Charles H. Spurgeon

would make a great deal better preachers than many college gentlemen — and he said to me, “Depend upon it, my good brother, if you or I ever get one inch above the ground, we shall get just that inch too high.” I believe it is true; for the lower we lie, the nearer to the ground we are — the more our troubles humble us — the more fit we are to receive comfort; and God always gives us comfort when we are most fit for it. That is one reason why consolations increase in the same ratio as our trials.

      16. Then again, trouble exercises our graces, and the very exercise of our graces tends to make us more comfortable and happy. Where showers fall most, there the grass is greenest. I suppose the fogs and mists of Ireland make it “The Emerald Isle”; and wherever you find great fogs of trouble, and mists of sorrow, you always find emerald green hearts: full of the beautiful verdure of the comfort and love of God. Oh Christian, do not be saying, “Where are the swallows gone? they are gone: they are dead.” They are not dead; they have skimmed the purple sea, and gone to a far off land; but they will be back again by and by. Child of God, do not say the flowers are dead; do not say the winter has killed them, and they are gone. Ah! no; though winter has coated them with the ermine of its snow; they will put up their heads again, and will be alive very soon. Do not say, child of God, that the sun is quenched, because the cloud has hidden it. Ah! no; he is behind there, brewing summer for you; for when he comes out again, he will have made the clouds fit to drop in April showers, all of them mothers of the sweet May flowers. And oh! above all, when your God hides his face, do not say, that he has forgotten you. He is only tarrying a little while to make you love him better; and when he comes, you shall have joy in the Lord, and shall rejoice with joy unspeakable. Waiting, exercises our grace; waiting, tries our faith; therefore, wait on in hope; for though the promise tarry, it can never come too late.

      17. Another reason why we are often most happy in our troubles is this — then we have the closest dealings with God. I speak from heart knowledge and real experience. We never have such close dealings with God, as when we are in tribulation. When the barn is full, man can live without God; when the purse is bursting with gold, we somehow can do without so much prayer. But once take your gourds away, you want your God; once cleanse away the idols out of the house, then you must go and honour Jehovah. Some of you do not pray half as much as you ought. If you are the children of God, you will have the whip, and when you have that whip, you will run to your Father. It is a fine day, and the child walks before its father; but there is a lion in the road, now he comes and takes his father’s hand. He could run half a mile before him when all was fine and fair; but once bring the lion, and it is “father! father!” as close as he can be. It is even so with the Christian. Let all be well, and he forgets God. Jeshurun waxes fat, and he begins to kick against God; but take away his hopes, blast his joys, let the infant lie in the coffin, let the crops be blasted, let the herd be cut off from the stall, let the husband’s broad shoulder be in the grave, let the children be fatherless — then it is that God is a God indeed. Oh, strip me naked; take from me all I have; make me poor, a beggar, penniless, helpless: dash that cistern in pieces; crush that hope; quench the stars; put out the sun; shroud the moon in darkness, and place me all alone in space, without a friend, without a helper; still, “Out of the depths will I cry to you, oh God.” There is no cry as good as that which comes from the bottom of the mountains; no prayer half as hearty as that which comes up from the depths of the soul, through deep trials and afflictions. Hence they bring us to God, and we are happier; for that is the way to be happy — to live near to God. So that while troubles abound, they drive us to God, and then consolations abound.

      18. Some people call troubles weights. Truly they are so. A ship that has large sails and a fair wind, needs ballast. Troubles are the ballast of a believer. The eyes are the pumps which fetch out the bilge water of his soul, and keep him from sinking. But if trials be weights, I will tell you of a happy secret. There is such a thing as making a weight lift you. If I have a weight chained to me, it keeps me down; but give me pulleys and certain appliances, and I can make it lift me up. Yes, there is such a thing as making troubles raise me towards heaven. A gentlemen once asked a friend, concerning a beautiful horse of his, feeding in the pasture with a clog on its foot, “Why do you clog such a noble animal?” “Sir,” said he, “I would a great deal sooner clog him than lose him: he is given to leap hedges.” That is why God clogs his people. He would rather clog them than lose them; for if he did not clog them, they would leap the hedges and be gone. They need a tether to prevent their straying, and their God binds them with afflictions, to keep them near to him, to preserve them, and have them in his presence. Blessed fact — as our troubles abound, our consolations also abound.

      19. IV. Now we close up with our last point; and may the Holy Spirit once more strengthen me to speak a word or two to you. THERE IS A PERSON TO BE HONOURED. It is a fact that Christians can rejoice in deep distress; it is a truth, that put them in prison, and they still will sing; like many birds, they sing best in their cages. It is true that when waves roll over them, their soul never sinks. It is true they have a buoyancy about them which keeps their heads always above the water, and helps them to sing in the dark, dark night, “God is with me still.” But to whom shall we give the honour? To whom shall the glory be given? Oh! to Jesus, to Jesus; for the text says it is all by Jesus. It is not because I am a Christian that I get joy in my trouble — not necessarily so; it is not always the fact that troubles bring their consolations; but it is Christ who comes to me. I am sick in my chamber; Christ comes up the stairs, he sits by my bedside, and he talks sweet words to me. I am dying; the chilly cold waters of Jordan have touched my foot, I feel my blood stagnate and freeze. I must die; Christ puts his arms around me, and says, “Do not fear, beloved; to die is to be blessed; the waters of death have their fountain head in heaven; they are not bitter, they are sweet as nectar, for they flow from the throne of God.” I wade in the stream, the billows gather around me, I feel that my heart and my flesh fail; but there is the same voice in my ears, “Do not fear; I am with you! do not be dismayed; I am your God.” Now, I come to the borders of the infinite unknown, that country “from whose bourne no traveller returns”; I stand almost frightened to enter the realm of shades; but a sweet voice says, “I will be with you wherever you go; if you should make your bed in hell I will be with you”; and I still go on, content to die, for Jesus cheers me; he is my consolation and my hope. Ah! you who do not know that matchless name, Jesus, you have lost the sweetest note which ever can give melody. Ah! you who have never been entranced by the precious sonnet contained in that one word Jesu, you who know not that Jesu means, I-ES-U, (“I ease you”); you have lost the joy and comfort of your lives, and you must live miserable and unhappy. But the Christian can rejoice, since Christ will never forsake him, never leave him, but will be with him.

      20. A word or two to characters — First, I have a word with you who are expecting troubles, and are very sad because you are looking forward to them. Take the advice of the common people, and “never cross a bridge until you get to it.” Follow my advice: never bring your troubles nearer than they are, for they will be sure to come down upon you soon enough. I know that many people fret themselves about their trials before they come. What on earth is the good of it? If you will show me any benefit in it, I will say go on, but to me it seems quite enough for the Father to lay the rod on the child without the child chastising itself. Why should you do so? You, who are afraid of trouble, why should you be so? The trial may never overtake you; and if it does come, strength will come with it. Therefore, up with you, man, who are sitting down groaning, because of forebodings.

      Religion never was designed

      To make our pleasures less.

      Away with you! Up! up! Why will you sit down and be frozen to death? When trouble comes, then fight it; with manful heart and strong, plunge into the stream, accoutred as you are, and swim it through; but oh! do not fear it before it comes.

      21. Then Christian in trouble, I have a word to say to you. So my brother, you are in trouble; you are come into the waves of affliction, are you? No strange thing, is it brother? You have been there many times before. “Ah,” but you say, “this is the worst I have ever had. I have come up here this morning with a millstone around my neck. I have a mine of lead in my heart: I am miserable, I am unhappy, I am cast down exceedingly.” Well, but brother, as your troubles abound,