It is well to bear in mind that this is not the day of Christ's power, but it is the day of His sympathy. When passing through the deep waters of affliction, the heart may at times feel disposed to ask, Why does not the Lord put forth His power and deliver me? The answer is, This is not the day of His power.
He could prevent that catastrophe. He could avert that sickness. He could remove that difficulty. He could take off that pressure. He could preserve that beloved and fondly cherished object from the cruel grasp of death. But instead of putting forth His power to deliver us, He allows things to run their course and pours His own sweet sympathy into the oppressed and riven heart, in such a way as to elicit the acknowledgment that we would not for worlds have missed the trial, because of the abundance of the consolation.
By-and-by He will display His power; He will unsheath His sword; He will come forth as the rider on the white horse. He will bare His arm; He will avenge His people, and right their wrongs forever.
But now His sword is sheathed, His arm covered; this is the time for making known the deep love of His heart, not the power of His arm, nor the sharpness of His sword.
Are you satisfied to have it so? Is Christ's sympathy enough for your heart, even amid the keenest sorrow, and the most intense affliction?
The restless heart, the impatient spirit, the unmortified will, would lead one to long to escape from the trial, the pressure, the difficulty; but this would never do. We must pass from grade to grade in the school; but the Master accompanies us, and the light of His countenance, and the tender sympathy of His heart, sustain us under the most trying circumstances.