August 13

"From Him cometh my salvation."—Psalms 62:1.

I SEE many wonders in the grace of God.

There is the wonder of its origin. From Him it takes its rise and source—oh pregnant pronoun! From the King against whom I have revolted. From the Friend whose wishes I have opposed. From the thrice-holy One, to whom the smallest of my sins is absolutely hateful. From the Father on whom I have turned my back. It is He who approaches me with the white flag of peace. It is He who sacrifices Himself to compass my deliverance.

And there is the wonder of its continuousness. It cometh. It does not cease. It flows, and deepens, and broadens. God does not weary, though there are ten thousand reasons why He should. The Saviour does not lose His interest. The Holy Spirit goes on performing His good work. Grace is steadfast as the sunrise. It is many-sided as the ocean with its moods and waves.

And there is the wonder of its object. It is my salvation—mine, incredible as that may seem. It is a miracle to me that my past guilt should be pardoned: such a terrible criminality there was in my heart. It is a miracle to me that my present imperfections should be borne with and overcome: such a forbearing, conquering patience I need. For I am the chief of sinners.

And there is the wonder of its abundance. Salvation it is that comes to me. And salvation is a palace with many rooms in it. It is a landscape in which many different elements of beauty are found—mountain, and river, and lush pasture-ground, and darker forest, and the silver streak of the sea. I think of it from the divine side, and how much it cost God! I think of it from the human side, and how much it brings to me!