August 14
The Motion of a Hidden Fire
In the Hour of Silence"Yet the dogs under the table eat of the children's crumbs."
IF the Syrophenician mother had great difficulties, she had rich encouragements too.
There were the home-love and the home-sorrow urging her forward. Her daughter, dear to her as her own soul—nay, far more precious than anything she called her own: her life, her home, her hope in this world and the next—was in the sorest distress. Is not trouble thrice blessed to me if it compels me to lay fast hold on Jesus? Grievous as it is, it is doing a gracious work when it drives me to His feet.
There were hopes kindled by Christ's looks and tones, even when He seemed most opposed to her. He spoke of dogs, and it sounds a harsh and untender saying. Yes, but it was of the little pet dogs of the household, and not of the gaunt and homeless dogs of the street. Behind the apparent unwillingness to yield to my cry, what love for mine and me throbs and burns in His boundlessly compassionate heart!
And there was the inward working of the Spirit of grace and supplication, enabling her to endure to the end. I too may have that helpful, patient, inspiring, quickening Holy Ghost. Unseen and noiseless He may fulfil His work in me, lifting me above every hindrance, keeping me at the throne until the King, yielding to the persistency He has been feeding all the while, shall say, Be it unto thee even as thou wilt.
Thus my prayers become effectual and fervent. With my clamant need behind, with my tender Saviour above, with my Paraclete and "taintless Pleader" within, I carry away as a conqueror the benefactions of my Lord.