01.02. Wayside Work

Wayside Work

It should be the highest aim of every Christian, continually to realize that this world is not his abiding home, that he is only sent into it to tarry for a season, as "God’s messenger" — to speak words for Him. "God’s messenger!" How solemn the thought! How responsible the office! Reader, are you conscientiously discharging it? Are you faithfully delivering your message? Are you so living, as that you will, by and-by, be able, fearlessly, to render up an account of your stewardship, and joyfully to listen to the sentence, "Well done, good and faithful servant! Enter you into the joy of your Lord!" These are no light questions. Do not put them carelessly aside, do not shrink from meeting them — but, as in the sight of that God before whom you must one day stand, bring your daily life to the test which they offer.

If you are, indeed, numbered among God’s chosen flock, and have been gathered safely into the fold of refuge — you will at once perceive that, with you, the solemn work of life, so far from being finally accomplished, will last as long as life itself. The influence which, consciously or unconsciously, you cannot fail to exercise over others, must be employed in God’s service. He it is who has bought you with so costly a price, even the precious blood of His beloved Son — that you may henceforth "glorify Him in your body and in your spirit, which are His."

God will not have any of His servants idle. To some He appoints one kind of work, to others, another. But to each and all the command is the same, "Occupy until I come." Every one, as he receives the seal of adoption, receives also the precept, "Son, go work today in my vineyard!" Not tomorrow — not next year — not at some indefinite period in the far-off future — but today, while yet the shadows of evening fall not, nor the midnight cry arises, "Behold He comes!"

There is no escape from this law. Nor, if, indeed, our hearts are set aright, will there be any wish to escape. We serve no hard master. We are no slaves, performing, thanklessly, the task allotted to us. Ours is an unconstrained obedience, a freewill offering, an expression of grateful affection to Him who has loved and given Himself for us.

Reader, "The Lord has need of you!" Conscious — deeply, painfully conscious as you may be of your own weakness and insufficiency, it is, nevertheless, true, that in the carrying out of His great designs, He has a place for you to fill. You are a link in the chain, and the most momentous interests are daily dependent upon you. No one can take your place. No one can share your responsibility. Only yield yourself up, "to be as clay in the hands of the potter" — and He will make of you a "vessel fit for His own use." Only pray, in believing sincerity, "Lord, What will You have me to do?" and be assured that, in one way or other, your work will be marked out, and the strength given with which you are to perform it.

Keep your eye ever fixed upon your Heavenly Father’s eye, so that you may be ready to follow its lightest motion. Do not look out for great services, such as may dazzle the world by their splendor — but cheerfully take up those which lie in your daily path, and accomplish them, as "unto the Lord — and not unto men." If you will do this, you will soon find your hand fully occupied, and your spirit growing strong to do and to bear.

Remember, even the tiny dewdrop has its mission; the little insects which dance so merrily in the summer sunshine fill no useless place in the scale of creation. These, also, in their measure, are "faithful in little things." And can it be, that you alone are to remain unemployed? Nay, truly, for "no man lives unto himself." But this subject has been so often and so ably handled, that we need not further enter upon it. Yet we must offer a few hints on one or two departments of work, the importance of which is too frequently overlooked.

First, on that (and it comes most strictly under the head of way-side work) which we may do as we journey hither and thither in this "house of our pilgrimage." We fear that with many, even of God’s believing people, a journey is a thing far too lightly undertaken. We are often too resolutely bent upon following out some favorite plan of our own, to stop and ask counsel of Him who has commanded us, in "all our ways," seek His guidance. In the anticipation of a visit, or of a tour of pleasure, we are apt to look rather for our own ease and health — than for the way in which we may best glorify God. At such times it too frequently happens that the watchfulness and circumspection of our heavenward walk is relaxed, our close communion with God is interrupted, our approaches to the throne of grace are less frequent, and our holy fellowship With the Father and the Son is estranged. In short, we seem to imagine that relaxation from mental or physical exertion, implies also a sort of relaxation in our spiritual progress, and so, instead of diligently cultivating "vacation piety," we are in danger of indulging a "vacation from piety." Thus we lose ground which cannot be regained by months of unceasing toil — for it is impossible that, after a season of sloth and carelessness, we should stand exactly as we did at its commencement. If there is not advancement — there must be declension. Ours must be a ceaseless warfare, and if, even for one moment, we wield our weapons with an unsteady hand — the enemy will surely gain an advantage over us. And thus our influence for good is weakened — for our lamp must burn with a clear and steady flame, or it can never give light and guidance to another.

There is a living power in the example of one who constantly dwells in the "secret place of the Most High" — which makes itself felt, even when no word is spoken. He is surrounded by an atmosphere of prayer, with which no light or worldly element can mingle, and which at once stamps him as an heir of the glory. Such a one is a "living epistle," which all can read — a "shining light" which all can see. Where this is lacking, where the Christian sinks to the level of other men, and does not declare plainly that "he seeks a heavenly country" — his influence becomes positively pernicious. A stumbling block is cast in the way of the unconverted, and the faith of God’s children is weakened rather than confirmed. See to it, then, dear reader, that you allow no outward circumstances to hinder you in the race set before you. Pray that your eyes may be "turned away from beholding vanity," and kept fixed upon the "Author and Finisher of your faith." Let a sense of danger drive you to the shelter of the Rock of Ages — that there, beneath its kindly shade, the world’s glare and sunshine may have no power to harm you.

And, alike in visiting and in journeying, strive to follow only where the guiding pillar leads. Seek to be made willing to go or to stay — as you may most effectually perform your Master’s bidding. It may be that He designs you to carry a message of hope and consolation to some weary sufferer, who is to hear from your lips the needed assurance that the "Lord has not forgotten to be gracious." Or you may be sent to arouse some slumberer, to quicken the halting step of some lingerer along the way, or to cheer some tried and doubting pilgrim by your own more steadfast faith in the "faithful and true Witness." Or, perhaps, your own soul needs to be refreshed, and you are "sent to sojourn for a season where it may be more abundantly watered by the fertilizing dew of the Spirit — that in solitude and stillness, or in sweet communion with fellow-travelers to the Celestial City — you may be strengthened to "hold fast the beginning of your confidence steadfast unto the end." Of one thing you may be sure; that wherever you are sent, it is on some special errand, whether it is that your Father intends to use you in speaking to others that which He would have spoken to them — or that you are to hear from them what, at that particular time, it is necessary for you to know.

Beware, then, that you do not carelessly pass by that which is given you to do. A neglected opportunity — a tract ungiven — a warning unspoken — who can tell what momentous consequences may follow from matters apparently so trivial?

We see but little of friend or companion upon this tossing ocean of life, where we can but exchange a hurried greeting as we are borne past each other on the crested billows. Let us, then, strive to turn these "way-side glimpses" into pledges of an eternal meeting. Let them not be frittered away in idleness or folly — but let their record be, that the "Lord hearkened and heard, and wrote down in His book of remembrance," the words which were spoken by His loving children.

Let us specially plead that they may be to us "times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord" — so that our lips may be constrained to give utterance to the fullness of the heart. Then, when the earthly tabernacle is exchanged for the better and abiding home — we shall have many to welcome us there, and many to follow in our footsteps, who, but for us, would have been in hopeless misery! The distribution of tracts offers another field of labor, which all may enter. By this we mean, not merely the taking charge of a "tract district," though this is, in itself, a labor of love which cannot fail of its reward. But there are many who have neither time nor strength to undertake such an office, who may yet, as they pass through the world — scatter tracts, like seeds of blessing, which may take deep root within the heart, and bring forth fruit a hundredfold. Offer tracts whenever and wherever you have an opportunity. Give them to the beggar by the way-side, to the stranger whom you meet, and may never meet again, to the cabman as he sits upon his box, to the omnibus-driver, who may truly say, "No man cares for my soul!" Scatter them in your daily walks. Leave them in railway-carriage and steam-boat. Who can tell the good that they may do? Who can count the wretched homes they may make happy, the jewels they may win to sparkle in Immanuel’s crown? And though the effort may seem to be unsuccessful, though the seed may lie dormant for many a weary year, as though it had been sown upon the rock — yet, by-and-by, it may be quickened by the living breath of the Spirit, and spring up into everlasting life! And then that rescued one, who has thus been plucked as a brand from the burning, may, in his turn, spread the glad tidings of a Savior’s mercy, until, at length, the tiny stream which had so feeble a source, may become a broad and mighty river, bearing a glorious freight to the shores of the distant eternity!

How can you be idle with such work before you — work in which the weakest may share? An infant’s hand may plant the acorn, which will one day be a spreading oak; and even your hand, trembling though it is — may lead another sinner to the mansions of glory! Toil on, earnestly and hopefully, with a single eye and a brave purpose. The great day of disclosures will show that your "strength has not been spent in vain, nor your labor for nothing." But we need not add more. Enough has been said to show that wherever there is a hearty desire to be useful — the means of being so will most certainly be found. If we are "walking in the light," we shall readily hear the "first and softest call" to labor in the vineyard. A spirit of lowly and reverent love will be ever on the watch to seize every opportunity of proving its devotion. Daily are we reminded that our work is but "wayside work" — it will soon be over, for the night comes. "Whatever," therefore, "your hand finds to do — do it with your might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, where you are going." Who would wear a starless crown in Heaven? Who would be content with the "lowest room," when the higher place may be won as the reward of self-denying labor? For if our title to glory rests simply upon the imputed righteousness of Christ, we believe that the degree of that glory depends upon the measure of faithful service here. Surely our joy will be increased a thousand fold, if we are enabled to lay up in the heavenly garner a harvest of many sheaves! And if that bright rest which awaits us could be marred by one thought of sorrow — it will be, because we have not been here more diligent in doing that which there we cannot do. Life, like spring, is the only sowing-time, and if it is not improved, the rich fruits of autumn will hereafter be lacking. Work, then, dear reader, for "Earth has no room for idlers — and life has no time for dreams!"

Work, for if you will not, others will. If the children of God are idle — then the agents of Satan will be busy. If we sow not the seed of the kingdom — they will sow the dragon’s teeth of destruction and damnation! Never was there a time when God’s saints were more loudly called upon to arouse themselves from slumber. The enemy is mustering his forces in all their strength for a final and decisive conflict. Who will remain inactive? Who will refuse to "come to the help of the Lord against the mighty?" Not you, reader!

Then join the ranks at once! Gird yourself for the combat! Enroll yourself in the crusade against ungodliness and error. Take the "shield of faith, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God," and from a hand nerved with almighty strength, cast a dart against the opposing ranks of the adversary! Only let it be sped on its way by prayer — and who can tell what it may accomplish. Be patient. There may be weariness here on earth, but there will be rest hereafter in Heaven — rest in your own sinless home, where your ascended Redeemer is waiting to receive you, and where, in the fullness of His unveiled presence, you will be "forever with the Lord!"