IT may be that some of the readers of these pages have often asked themselves the question, “Why am I so sad?” So long as they are busily occupied with the daily avocations of life, there is little time for serious reflection or soul-anxiety; but quiet moments do occur, or the stillness of the night-watches steal upon them, and then the perturbed conscience manifests itself, and solemn thoughts of death, judgment, and a never-ending eternity, produce many a sigh, and the deeply-felt utterance of the heart is, “Why am I so sad?”
After all, death and judgment are dread realities to every reflecting mind; for it is written, that “every one of us must give account of himself to God.” How, then, can any right-minded souls who have not peace with God be otherwise than sad, when they consider in how brief a period of time this brittle thread of life may snap, and land them forever in eternity? Nor will false religiousness suffice to permanently console such perturbed consciences; for their minds being occupied as to how matters stand between them and God, nothing can really give them peace but the certain assurance that every question about sin has been set right between their souls and God. That many do go on year after year trying by their own efforts to find rest for their burdened consciences is, alas! most true; but never finding it either in the way of works, or in keeping ordinances, religious duties, or self-amendment, despondency and gloom so often possess them, that with deep sorrow of heart they exclaim, “Why am I so sad?”
Such persons little think that “salvation is of the Lord;” that “by the deeds of the law no flesh shall be justified in His sight;” and that “they that are in the flesh cannot please God.” Hence it is that many sincere souls have not peace. They are looking for peace in almost every conceivably wrong way, instead of looking alone to the Lord Jesus Christ, who made peace by the blood of His cross, and is now in the presence of God, in heaven, “for righteousness to everyone that believeth.” Like the Jews of old, “being ignorant of God’s righteousness, they are going about to establish their own righteousness, and have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God.” No wonder, then, that they cry out, “Why am I so sad?”
Such cases are, with sorrow we state it, very common. One occurs to us while we write; it is this. Mrs. B—was a respectable farmer’s wife, and every now and then much distressed about her soul’s salvation. So miserable at times was she, that in deep, heartfelt bitterness, she would inquire within herself, “Why am I so sad?” She tried to be as moral and upright as possible; but again and again the distress of an evil conscience, and a sense of utter unfitness for the presence of an infinitely holy God, so seized her, that she became wild, and wondered if self-destruction would not put an end to her misery.
What can I do? naturally became her anxious inquiry; and knowing that a farmer in the neighborhood was noted for his piety, she occasionally repaired to him to pour out the doleful tale of her deep sense of sin, and intolerable fear of death and judgment. But he seems to have been very blind and self-deceived; for he told her she could not be happier till she got better, that she ought not to expect to be happy while she was such a sinner; and after exhorting her to go home and try to lead a new life, and keep the commandments, she would return home, resolving again to persevere in a better and more religious life. This, however, as might be expected, did not last long. Again a sense of God’s eye being upon her, and of her responsibility to Him, lay bare her conscience, and sometimes while feeling thus she would run out of her house in a frantic state, and consider if there were no way of escape from her intolerable misery. Again she would take refuge in her religious friend, but always with the same result. This continued for many years. At length she heard that a few Christians met together to read God’s word in a village within two miles of her residence, and she determined on going. On her first entering the room, someone was reading the Saviour’s precious words— “Let not your heart be troubled, ye believe in God, believe also in me.” In a moment she saw there was peace, not by doing, but “in believing,” and at once looking to the Lord Jesus, she was relieved of her burden, and filled with joy and peace. Her delight was intense, and her decision for the Lord most marked. Her husband was a very wicked man, and though he persecuted her most vigorously, her testimony for the Lord was so firm and unyielding that he soon turned to the Lord, and was enabled to openly confess Him before men; so that they walked happily together in the fear of the Lord, and the comfort of the Holy Ghost. How true it is that, “being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Surely this is the only cure for the wretchedness of a sin-convicted soul, whose heart’s utterance is, “Why am I so sad?”
The well-known Martin Boos also passed through much misery. He thus relates his conversion to God from Roman Catholicism: “I lay for years together upon the cold ground, though my bed stood near me. I scourged myself till the blood came, and clothed my body with a hair shirt; I hungered, and gave my bread to the poor; I spent my every leisure moment in the precincts of the church; I confessed and communicated every week.” He “gave himself an immense deal of trouble to lead a holy life;” and was unanimously elected a saint; but the saint was miserable, and cried out, “O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me?” Going to see a pious old woman on her death-bed, he said wistfully, “Ah! you may well die in peace!” “Why?” “You have lived such a godly life.” “What a miserable comforter!” she said, and smiled; “if Christ had not died for me, I should have perished forever, with all my good works and piety. Trusting in Him, I die in peace.” And from this time the light fell in upon his soul; the dying woman had answered his miserable cry— “O wretched man that I am!”
Let the reader observe that both these instances of long and bitter distress of soul were greatly owing to false teaching. No doubt, God overrules it, and, through all the distress, gives souls to learn experimentally that in them, that is in their flesh, dwells no good thing; and thus they become more thoroughly settled in the grace of God in Christ, rest more simply on His written word, and consequently have great peace. Still, such distress is not necessary, nor could it be known if God’s word were listened to instead of the opinions of men. Surely, it may still be said of many, “Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition.” (Mark 7:99And he said unto them, Full well ye reject the commandment of God, that ye may keep your own tradition. (Mark 7:9).) Happy indeed are those who have so heard the voice of the Lord Jesus, the Saviour of sinners, as to have turned to Him, and received Him as their alone way of peace, and thus know what it is to be reconciled to God by the death of His Son. Such are “in Christ Jesus,” and can triumphantly exclaim—
“He raised me from the depths of sin,
The gates of gaping hell;
And fixed my standing more secure
Than ‘twas before I fell.
“Satan may vent his sharpest spite,
And all his legions roar;
Almighty mercy guards my life,
And bounds his raging power.”
Dear reader! what say you to these things? Has ever the secret utterance of your heart been, “Why am I so sad?” Do you reply, No? What! Is it possible you have never felt the terrible solemnity of having to give account of yourself to God? Has your conscience never owned its guilt to God? Has your heart never been melted under a sense of the amazing love of God in giving His beloved Son to die for sinners? Only think what it must be to be before the eye of an all-seeing, heart-searching God!