I SAW the other day a young ivy-leaf growing out from among the older leaves of the ivy vine in a little thicket. It was just bursting into life, and looked so young and fresh and beautiful that I could not but admire it, as I am sure you would have done, could you have been there. Its bright emerald green shone in the sunlight as polished silver shines; it looked so tender, too, and yet so brisk and full of life, while its living green contrasted so strongly with the more sombre hue of the older leaves by which it was surrounded, that I could not but think how much it was like a little child, or rather a very young believer in. Jesus; some dear little lamb of Christ’s flock just opening into the Divine life, and shining “in His perfections,” who “carries the lambs in His bosom,” that bosom where you know “the beloved disciple” lay and learned the secret of His heart, when that heart was “troubled” at the heartlessness which could sell Him for thirty pieces of silver. If you want to know about that, you must read the thirteenth chapter of John. Well, but to return to the little ivy-leaf. It was just peeping out into the bright April sunlight for the first time in its life. The older leaves had lived all through the winter, and though they shined too in the noonday sun, they looked a good deal sobered down by experience; for you know winter is a trying time, and they had all passed through it. And though, when other leaves were dead and dry and sapless, they were ever green, yet they had known the storms of winter and its biting blasts. Those storms had not been able to shake them from the vine, it is true; the snow and the sleet and the cold wintry rain had not been able to destroy the life that was within ahem, yet many of those older leaves were variegated (as people call it) with gray lines, as though those storms had left their traces behind them. But of all this the young ivy-leaf knew nothing. It did shine! You would have thought the light came from it, instead of being only the reflection of a stray sunbeam, which had found its way into the little coppice where the ivy grew. Well, as I said, this young ivy-leaf reminded me of a little lamb of the flock of Christ. Like a little believer, just opening out in all the freshness and beauty of the “new birth,” so was this young ivy-leaf; its tenderness and vigor reminded me “how gentle, yet how strong,” is the life that is in the very smallest child that believes in Jesus; “its silvery sheen,” unbroken by a line or trace of any other thing or color, told how a dear little believer may reflect Christ Jesus, be like Him in all his ways; and as the ivy-leaf grew upward into the light pointing heavenward, so should a little believer grow up into Him in all things, who is the Head, even Christ, and have his “affections set on things above, where Christ sitteth at the right hand of God.” What a bright little witness for Jesus such a young believer would be!
Are you like that? If you have believed in Jesus you have a life that nothing can destroy, for Jesus says, “My sheep shall never perish,” and “He that heareth my word and believeth on Him that sent me, hath EVERLASTING LIFE.” Christ is your life, and you know He liveth forever. And the life that you now live down here should be Christ-like, as the sheen of the young ivy-leaf was sun-like, because it gave back the light of the sunbeam in which it was basking. It had no light of its own; all its brightness came from that sunbeam; and so must all your light come from Him who is the Light, even Jesus. Do you understand this? Christ must be your all in all, and then, and then only, you will be able to shine as a dear little witness for Him. Look up to Him who sits at God’s right hand, (He is looking down at you,) and think of Him, pray to Him, study Him, and let Him be everything to you, and then you will be a little witness for Him in the world. Will you remember this when you think of the young ivy-leaf?
J. L. K.