October 11

"I shall go softly all my years."—Isaiah 38:15.

I SHALL go softly, the king said; and I would say it too.

There are humbling memories which rise within my heart. I am filled with recollections which bow me down. Have I not broken God's commandments? Have I not raised the shameful cross for His Son? Since He lifted me into freedom, have I not been disobedient a thousand times over? Yes, I shall go softly, remembering my past.

There is a watchful attitude which befits my heart. I am like a little child, walking through a wood where the wild beasts have their home, and where there are hazards to be encountered at every step. I have need to be on the alert. I have need to rest on Him whose grace is sufficient. At any moment I may be trapped and overcome. Surely I shall go softly.

There is a prevailing seriousness which should rule my heart. Life for me is a momentous thing, not to be trifled with, to be used wisely and well. I am living, to praise God, to be holy as He is holy, to be zealous of good works. I cannot be as gay and unburdened by thought as those who stand outside His kingdom. I must go softly, recognising His lordship.

There are unpretending activities which should occupy my heart. I would make no display. I would do my work without parade or pretence. In the Middle Ages there were saints known as the Quietists; without wearing the name, I would covet the quality. Her tones were "modulated just so much as it was meet"—let the words be true of me. Let me go softly all my years.

Half-hidden violets may bless very many.