"Behold, I am vile!" Job 40:4
O Lord, how vile am I,
Unholy and unclean!
How can I dare to venture nigh,
With such a load of sin?
Is this polluted heart
A dwelling fit for Thee?
Swarming, alas! in every part,
What evils do I see!
If in Thy Word I look,
Such darkness fills my mind;
I only read a sealed book,
And no relief can find!
Thy gospel oft I hear,
But hear it still in vain;
Without desire, or love, or fear,
I like a stone remain!
Myself can hardly bear
This wretched heart of mine!
How hateful, then, must it appear,
To those pure eyes of Thine!
And must I, then, indeed,
Sink in despair and die?
Fain would I hope that Thou didst bleed
For such a wretch as I!
That blood which Thou hast spilt,
That grace which is Thy own,
Can cleanse the vilest sinner's guilt,
And soften hearts of stone!
Low at Thy feet I bow;
O pity and forgive!
Here will I lie, and wait till Thou,
Shalt bid me rise and live!
(J. R. Miller, "Things to Live For" 1896)
"Cast your burden upon the Lord--and He shall sustain you." Psalm 55:21
This privilege is a very precious one. We all have our burden. No matter how happy anyone is--he is bearing some weight of care, or sorrow, or responsibility. Continually we find our load too heavy for our own unaided strength. We feel that we cannot carry it without help. Human love comes up close beside us, willing, if it were possible, to take the burden from our shoulder, and carry it for us. But this is not possible. "Every man must bear his own burden." Most of life's loads, are not transferable.
Take pain, for instance. No tenderest, truest love--can bear our pain for us, or even bear any smallest part of it.
Or take sorrow. As close as human friendship may come to us when our heart is breaking with grief--it cannot take from us any least portion of the anguish we suffer, as we meet bereavement.
Or take struggle with temptation. We can get no human help in it, and must pass through the struggle alone.
It will be noticed, too, that God Himself does not promise to bear our burden for us. So much is it an essential and inseparable part of our life--that even divine love will not relieve us of its weight.
The teaching from all this, is that we cannot hope to have our life-burden lifted off. Help cannot come to us, in the way of relief. The prayer to be freed from the load, cannot be answered. The assurance is--not that the Lord will take away our burden when we cast it upon Him, lifting it away from our shoulder. It is, instead, a promise that while we bear our burden, whatever it may be--that the Lord will sustain us. "Cast your burden upon the Lord--and He shall sustain you." He will give us strength to continue faithful, to go on with our doing of His will, unimpeded, unhindered, by the pressure of the load we must carry.
An alternative rendering of this verse is, "Cast your gift upon the Lord--and He shall sustain you." Thus we see, that our burden is a gift of God to us! At once the thing, which a moment ago seemed so oppressive in its weight, so unlovely in its form--is hallowed and transformed! We had thought it to be an evil--whose effect upon us could be only hurtful, hindering our growth, marring our happiness. But now we see that it is another of God's blessings, not evil--but good, designed not to hurt us, nor to impede our progress--but to help us onward!
A gift from a human friend, is a token and pledge of their love for us. In like manner, God sent this gift to us--because He loves us. It is a memento of divine affection. It may be hard for us to understand this. It may be a burden of pain, and pain seems so opposed to comfort--that we cannot see how it can be a gift of love. It may be sorrow; and sorrow never for the present seems to be joyous--but always grievous. It may be great loss--the stripping from us of life's pleasant things, leaving emptiness and desolation. How such burdens as these can be tokens of divine affection, God's gift of love--it is hard for us to conceive. Yet we know that God is our Father, and that His love for us never fails. Whatever comes from His hand to us--must be sent in love!
The world offers attractive things--pleasures, gains, promises of honor and delight. To the eye of sense, these appear to be life's best things. But too often they enfold bitterness and hurt, the fruit of evil. At the bottom of the cup--are dregs of poison!God gives, appear sometimes unattractive, undesirable, even repulsive! We shrink from accepting them. But they enfold, in their severe and unpromising form--the blessings of divine love.
We know how true this is of life's pains and sorrows. Though grievous to sense, they leave in the heart which receives them with faith and trust--the fruits of divine blessing. Whatever our burden may be, it is God's gift, and brings to us some precious thing, from the treasury of divine love. This fact makes it sacred to us. Not to accept it--is to thrust away from us, a blessing sent from heaven. We need, therefore, to treat most reverently--the things in our life, which we call burdens.
We should regard all the gifts of God to us--with affection. This is easy for us so long as these gifts come to us in pleasant form--things that give joy to us. But with no less love and gratitude should we receive and cherish God's gifts, which come in forbidding form. It is the same divine love which sends the one--and also the other. The one is no less good--than the other. There is blessing as truly in the gift of pain or loss or trial--as in the gift of song and gain and gladness. Whatever God sends--we should receive in confidence, as a gift of His love. Thus it is, that our burden, whatever it may be, is hallowed.
It may not always be easy to carry it, for even love sometimes lays heavy burdenseasy for his child. Nothing could be more unkind! He would have his child grow strong--and, therefore, he refuses to take away the hard task. God is too loving and kind, too true a father--to give us only easy things. He makes the burden heavy--that we may become strong in bearing it. But He is always near; and He gives us the help we need, that we may never faint beneath it. Thus we may always know, that our burden is our Father's gift to us! On the other hand, the things that on the shoulders of its beloved. A wise father does not seek always to make life
(J. R. Miller, "The Grace of Thoughtfulness" 1896)
Some people seem to have a genius for making others miserable! They are continually touching sensitive hearts, so as to cause pain. They are always saying things which sting and irritate. If you have any bodily defect, they never see you without in some crude way, making you conscious of it. If any relative or friend of yours has done some dishonorable thing, they seem to take a cruel delight in constantly referring to it when speaking with you. They lack all delicacy of feeling, having no eye for the sensitive things in others, which demand gentleness of treatment.
Thoughtfulness is the reverse of all this. It simply does not do the things which thoughtlessness does. It avoids the painful subject. It never alludes to a man's clubfoot or humpback, nor ever casts an eye at the defect, nor does anything to direct attention to it or to make the man conscious of it. It respects your sorrow--and refrains from harshly touching your wound. It has the utmost kindliness of feeling and expression. A truly thoughtful person, is one who never needlessly gives pain to another.
Thoughtfulness does not merely keep one from doing thoughtless things; it also leads to continued acts of kindness and good will. It ever watches for opportunities to give pleasure and happiness. It does not wait to be asked for sympathy or help--but has eyes of its own, and sees every need, and supplies it unsolicited. When a friend is in sorrow, the thoughtful man is ready with his offer of comfort. He does not come the next day, when the need is past--but is prompt with his kindness, when kindness means something.
Thoughtfulness is always doing little kindnesses. It has an instinct for seeing the little things that need to be done, and then for doing them!
There are some rare Christians who seem born for thoughtfulness. They have a genius for sympathy. Instinctively they seem to understand the experiences of pain in others, and from their heart, there flows a blessing of tenderness which is full of healing. This is the highest and holiest ministry of love. It is not softness nor weakness; it is strength--but strength enriched by divine gentleness.
Thoughtfulness is one of the truest and best tests of a noble Christian character. It is love working in all delicate ways. It is unselfishness which forgets self, and thinks only of others. It is love which demands not to be served, to be honored, to be helped--but thinks continually of serving and honoring others. He who has a truly gentle heart, cannot but be thoughtful. Love is always thoughtful.
(J. R. Miller, "The SEEDS We Are Scattering" 1896)
Though all are born "dead in trespasses and sins;" in another sense, when a baby is born--its life is only a patch of soil in which, as yet, nothing is growing.
A mother's hand is the first to plant seeds there--in the looks of tender love which her eyes dart into the child's soul, in her smiles and caresses and croonings, and her thousand efforts to reach the child's heart and shape its powers; and then in the lessons which she teaches.
All the members of the household soon become sowers also on this field; as the life begins to open, every one is dropping some seed into the mellow soil.In a little while, hands outside the home begin to scatter seeds in the child's mind and heart. The street, the playground, the school; later, books, papers, and pictures contribute their portion.
As the years advance, the experiences of life--the joys, temptations, tasks, trials, sorrows--all bring their influences. Somewhat in this way, the character of the mature man--is the growth of seeds sown by a thousand hands in the life from infancy.
All our thoughts, words, and acts--are seeds. They have in them a quality which makes them grow where they fall, reproducing themselves. This is true of the good we do.The mother's teachings enter the mind and heart of her child as mere seeds; but they reappear in the life of the son or daughter, in later years--in strength and beauty, in nobleness of character, and in usefulness of life. Not only is this strange power in the mother's words; her acts, her habits, her tones of voice, the influences that go forth from her life--are also seeds, having in them a vital principle. Where they lodge--they grow.
You can never lose your mother! She may die, and her body may be buried out of your sight, and laid away in God's acre. You will see her face and hear her voice no more; no more will her hand scatter the good seeds of truth and love, upon your life's garden. But you have not lost her! Your mind and heart are full of the seeds which fell from her hand along the years. These you never can lose. No hand of death
All the noble things that fall from your hands, as you travel along life's paths, are seeds, and will not die. The good things we do, with the true words we speak, with the faithful example we show, with all the influences of our life that are Christlike, are living seeds which we sow in the lives of others. They will not fall into the ground and perish. They will stay where they drop, and you will find them again after many days. They will germinate and grow, and yield a harvest!
Go on doing the little things, no matter how small, only making sure that you breathe love into them. Let them fall where they may, no matter into what heart, no matter how silently, no matter how hopeless may seem the soil into which they drop, no matter how you yourself may appear to be forgotten or overlooked as you do your deeds of kindness, and speak your words of love. These words and deeds and influences of yours are living seeds, and not one of them shall perish!
The same is true, however, of the evil things we do. They, too, have in them the quality of life and reproductiveness. If only our good things were seeds, this truth would have unmingled encouragement for us. But it is startling to remember, that the same law applies to the evil things. can root them out of your life. They have grown into the very fibers of your character. They reappear in your habits, your dispositions, your feelings and opinions, your modes of thought, your very phrases and forms of speech! You can never lose your mother; the threads of her life are woven inextricably into your life!The man who writes a wicked book, or paints an unholy picture, or sings an impure song--sets in motion a procession of unholy influences which will live on forever! He, too, will find his evil words again in the hearts of men, long, long afterwards; or see his unclean picture reproduced on men's lives, or hear his unholy song singing itself over again in the depths of men's being!
The evil that men do--lives after them! "Bury my influence in my grave with me!" said a wicked man, dying with bitter remorse in his soul. But that is impossible. Sometimes men who have been sowing evil, wake up to the consciousness of the harm they have been giving to other lives, and go back over their paths, trying to gather up the seeds of sin which they have cast into human hearts. But the effort is unavailing, as no one can take out of men's minds and hearts--the seeds of evil he has dropped there!
We are not done with life--when we die! We shall meet our acts and words and influences again! "Do not be deceived! God is not mocked. For whatever a man sows--he will also reap!" Galatians 6:7. He shall reap the same that he sows--and he himself shall be the reaper!
There is a law of divine justice, in which God requites to every man according to his deeds. We are not living under a reign of mere chance. But sometimes it seems as if the law of justice did not work universally--that some who do wrong, are not requited; and that some who do good, receive no reward. But this inequality of justiceapparent. Life does not end at the grave! If it did, we might say that the Lord's ways are not always equal. God's dealings with men, are not closed in this earthly life! The story is continued through eternity!
In this present life--wrong often seems to go unpunished, and virtue unrewarded. But our present lives, are simply unfinished life-stories. There are other chapters which will be written in eternity. When all has been completed, there will be no inequality, no injustice. All virtue will have its full reward--and all sin will receive its due punishment. is only
The gentleness of Jesus
(J. R. Miller, "Things to Live For" 1896)
"Learn from Me--for I am gentle and humble in heart." Matthew 11:29
Of the gentleness of Jesus it was said, "He will not break a bruised reed, and He will not put out a smoldering wick." Isaiah 42:3. There is nothing that this sorrowing, sinning world needs--more than gentleness. Yet, there are some Christians who seem never to have learned love's secret of gentleness.
We need to pray for the grace of gentleness, that we may walk softly among men, never hurting another life by harsh words or ungentle acts.
We can have something of the beauty of Christ in our life. As we can get into our hearts the grace of the Lord Jesus, and the mind that was in Jesus--the light of divine love will shine out from our dull nature, and transfigure it. This will make us sweet-tempered and gentle-spirited. It will make us honest in our dealings with our fellow-men. It will make us kind to all about us. It will make us godly people to live with at home. It will make us good neighbors and faithful friends. The unconscious ministry of such a life through long years--will leave untold blessings in this world.
Such a life of quiet, simple, humble, Christlike goodness--will pour out its unconscious influence into other lives--making them better, happier, holier, sweeter. Such a ministry of simple goodness is within the reach of every Christian. It requires no brilliant gifts, and no great wealth. It is a ministry which the plainest and lowliest may fulfill.
In these days of 'fashionable worldliness', the church needs just such simple goodness. It has eloquence in its pulpits, and activity in its pews--but it needs more godly people filled with the gentleness of Christ, repeating the life of Christ wherever they move.
None of the new distortions that the Senate health-care bill will layer onto the already-distorted tax code have received the attention they deserve, but in particular its effects on marginal tax rates could use scrutiny. Incredibly, for those with lower incomes, ObamaCare will impose a penalty as high as 34% on . . . work.
Central to Max Baucus's plan—assuming the public option stays dead—is an insurance "exchange," through which individuals and families could choose from a menu of standardized policies offered at heavily subsidized rates, provided that their employers do not offer coverage. The subsidies are distributed on a sliding scale based on income, and according to the Congressional Budget Office 23 million people will participate a decade from now, at a cost to taxpayers of some $461 billion.
Think about a family of four earning $42,000 in 2016, which is between 150% and 200% of the federal poverty level. CBO says a mid-level "silver" plan will cost about $14,700 in premiums, of which the family will pay $2,600—since the government would pay the other $12,100. If the family breadwinner (or breadwinners, because the subsidies are based on combined gross income) then gets a raise or works overtime and wages rise to $54,000, the subsidy drops to $9,900. That amounts to an implicit 34% tax on each additional dollar of income.
Or consider a single worker earning $20,600 and buying an individual "silver" policy with a premium at $5,000. Again according to CBO, if his income rises to $26,500, his subsidy plummets to $2,700 from $4,400 (including a cost-sharing subsidy that goes away). This is a 29% marginal tax; moving to other income levels yields increases in the neighborhood of 20% to 23% for both individuals and families. Jim Capretta, a fellow at the Ethics and Public Policy Center, calculates that when combined with other policies like the Earned Income Tax Credit that also phase out, the effective marginal rate would rise to nearly 70% at twice the poverty level.
The incentives for low-wage workers are especially perverse. The exchanges give them a huge break and then take it away gradually as their income goes up. Usually such phase-outs are used to make sure "the rich" don't benefit from IRS dispensations, but here they will have a giant effect on decisions about whether and how much to work, since each additional hour worked reduces the subsidy.
As CBO noted in a July health brief, "Higher [marginal] tax rates also reduce people's incentive to raise their income in other ways, such as working harder in the hope of winning raises; accepting new positions or responsibilities with higher compensation; or investing in their future earning capacity through education, training or other means." This disincentive effect will be especially hard on workers in the middle of their careers and who may not see the same potential for upward mobility as younger workers, but who could earn more through work and effort.
These marginal rate "cliffs" are also a sneaky way for Congress to lower the "scorable" cost of the bill without appearing to do so, because diminishing these rate hikes would boost the total cost of the subsidy. For the same reason, the subsidy is only extended to certain favored people, making it deeply unfair to those not allowed into the exchanges. Families earning identical amounts of money could pay wildly different taxes—a family earning $42,000 and getting insurance through an employer wouldn't receive close to $12,100 from the current tax exclusion for employer-sponsored coverage—while some families earning more money than others will pay significantly lower taxes.
This is an equity catastrophe waiting to happen—and senior Democrats know it. They're laying a political booby-trap that will transfer even more health spending to government after ObamaCare passes.
A far better and cleaner alternative would be to extend the same tax exclusions to individuals that employees receive if they get coverage from their employers. The current bias for one type of insurance has persisted for decades despite its unfairness and irrationality. But ObamaCare will keep all that, while in the process creating many new problems.
(J. R. Miller)
"I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." Philippians 3:14
That Christian life which costs nothing--is worth nothing. There must be self-restraint, discipline, severe schooling. There must be struggle, and the agonizing effort. If you are to reach the goal and win the prize--you must put every energy of your life into the race. There must be a sacrifice of indolence and self-will and personal ease. Too much pampering, spoils many a promising Christian.
Every noble and godly life, is a struggle from beginning to end. Only those who toil and fight and overcome--are successful in life. This is true in every sphere--in business, in academics, and in spiritual life. Are we resisting sin, overcoming temptation, living victoriously in trial? If not--we are not living worthily. "To this end I labor, struggling with all His energy, which so powerfully works in me." Colossians 1:29
Here every bowel of our God
With soft compassion rolls;
Here peace and pardon bought with blood
Is food for dying souls.
While all our hearts and all our songs
Join to admire the feast,
Each of us cry, with thankful tongues,
“Lord, why was I a guest?
“Why was I made to hear Thy voice,
And enter while there’s room,
When thousands make a wretched choice,
And rather starve than come?”
’Twas the same love that spread the feast
That sweetly drew us in;
Else we had still refused to taste,
And perished in our sin.
Pity the nations, O our God!
Constrain the earth to come;
Send Thy victorious Word abroad,
And bring the strangers home.
We long to see Thy churches full,
That all the chosen race
May with one voice, and heart and soul,
Sing Thy redeeming grace.
