MANY of our young readers will already have heard of the mage of the desert. Travelers have told strange stories of how when crossing the desert, thirsty and weary, suddenly they beheld something which to their surprise they had not seen before. In the distance was a large lake; around its banks were groves of palm trees, while little islands cored with green grass and foliage, added to the beauty of the picture. The water looked delightfully refreshing and inviting, in contrast to the burning desert sands all around. Eagerly they pressed forward to quench their thirst. As they advanced, to their surprise, the lake retreated. Again and again they sought to reach the cooling waters, only to find them retire in the distance. Then suddenly the phenomena had vanished, and in despair they realized that they were but chasing the mirage of the desert.
On the verandah of a pleasant mansion at the northern entrance of the Suez Canal, I once spent a delightful afternoon. Below me was the wonderful highway of water, with noble ships passing to and fro, bound for distant parts of the world. Across the narrow line stretched the vast expanse of sandy desert.
Just then my kind host bade me rise and look in a particular direction. “Do you see that lake about a mile off looking so inviting?” he asked.
“Yes,” I replied.
“Well,” he continued, “there is not a drop of water nor a green spot there. That is an illusion—a mirage.”
It was difficult to believe it. But sure enough, before half an hour had gone the picture that looked so real had vanished, leaving nothing in its place but a waste of barren sand.
Oh, dear young friend, you who have life before you, what is your ambition? Worldly success, popularity, fame, happiness? Perhaps at school, at work, you are exemplary. Your teachers, your employers, have no fault to find with you. You do your work well, and keep pleasure in its proper place. There is no nonsense about you. You respect yourself, and are sure to win the respect of others.
Yet for all that, you may be poor indeed. For, if you are working toward no higher aim than earthly gain, it is but a low, miserable kind of life after all. It is a life that will never satisfy. You want something that the world can’t give you, to make you rich and to make you happy. You want what you may have this very day, if you really desire it. Once you possess by faith a personal interest in Jesus, once you know the joy of being forgiven and at peace with God, you will not need to choose pleasure any more, for a new gladness will fill your soul, a spring of pure delight will be awakened within you.
Yet as long as Christ is unknown, there are visions of the future that rise before you which will be as fleeting as the mirage of the desert. But to become a true follower of the Lord Jesus, your happiness is secure, your fortune is made; and all things must work together for good, for God has said so.
Do you ask me for pleasure? Then lean on His breast,
In whom the sin-laden and weary find rest.
E’en in death’s valley in triumph you’ll cry,
“If this be called dying, ‘tis pleasant to die!”
ML-10/25/1964