January 16

"I went into Arabia."—Galatians 1:17.

IMMEDIATELY I conferred not with flesh and blood, says St. Paul, but I went away into Arabia.

Does not the newborn soul need solitude? That, apart from the strife of tongues and the din of the world, it may meditate on those marvellous things which God has done for it. That it may frame a larger, deeper, more adequate conception of what salvation really is. That its gratitude may become more intelligent and more profound. That, with nothing and no one to distract, it may dedicate itself quietly and fully to its Lord.

Does not the messenger and missionary of Christ need solitude? That he may apprehend the breadth and length and depth and height of that great, majestic, illimitable evangel he is to proclaim. That he may seize hold of the truth of God, and that the truth of God may seize hold of him. That the gospel may become, more than ever, his own possession and exceeding joy. And then, out of the abundance of his heart, his mouth will speak.

Does not every saint need solitude? That he may shake off the dust and grime of worldliness and sin. That, waiting on the Lord, he may renew his strength. That a fresh unction from the Holy One may make him wise and strong. In Arabia, as he came forth from the cloud, the face of Moses shone. In Arabia, the soul of St. Paul "duly took and strongly kept the print of heaven." Ah, there is none of us who can venture to dispense with those "Sabæan odours from the spicy shores of Araby the Blest."

Is it my custom and my delight to go apart and rest awhile with Jesus?