April 26

“Now shall mine head be lifted up above mine enemies round about me.”—Psalms 27:6.

OUT of faith courage is born—out of faith alone.

For faith knows that the past of my life has been forgiven. It can say, The Lord is my salvation. And not until the strangling load of guilt is rolled away, not until the yoke of sin is broken off, have I freedom, buoyancy, energy, boldness. “A man without hope,” Lord Wolseley says, “makes an indifferent soldier; one without cheerfulness is worse than useless.” But then, with no fears to haunt and harass me, I am brave to dare, to do, to suffer, to win.

And faith sees that the present of my life is filled with the power and the protection of God. It recognises His nearness, His graciousness, His omnipotence. It believes that He is closer to me than the enemy can ever be. He keeps me secretly in His pavilion. He hides me in the covert of His tabernacle. And what foe may venture behind these walls of fire?

And faith finds the future of my life aglow with the rose of dawn. She waits, as Christina Rossetti portrays her, “with suspended rapture in her face.” On this side of death, and on the farther side of death, behold, she says, it is all very good. Here and yonder, below and above, I shall dwell in the house of the Lord, to behold the beauty of the Lord and to consider His temple. And thus I am stout of heart and rescued from disquietude and dread.

“The playing fingers about the sword-hilt would fain let it fall,” as in the famous statue, “and yet how swiftly and gladly will they close on it when the far-off trumpet blows!” Yes, if I have faith.