“I will say unto God, do not condemn me; shew me wherefore thou contendest with me.”—Job 10:2

My soul, art thou at any time exercised with any trying dispensations? Doth thy God, thy Jesus, seem to hide his face from thee? Are his providences afflicting? Art thou brought under bereaving visitations? Is thy earthly tabernacle shaken by sickness? Are the pins of it loosening? Are thy worldly circumstances pinching? Is prayer restrained? Oh, refer thy state, my soul, be it what it may, to Jesus. Tell thy Lord, that of all things, thy greatest dread and fear is, lest thou shouldest be mistaken concerning his love to thee. Say, as Job did, “Shew me wherefore thou contendest with me.” There is an Achan in the heart. Thy Jesus doth not withdraw for nothing. Love is in his lips. Salvation fills the whole soul of Jesus. Fly to him, then, my soul! Say to him, Lord, make me what thou wouldest have me to be. Oh! for a word, a whisper of Jesus. I cannot live without it. I dare not let thee go, except thou bless me. Not all the past enjoyments, experiences, manifestations, will do me good, until thou again shine in upon my soul. Oh! come then, Lord Jesus! I fly to thee as my God, my Saviour, my portion, my all! “Never, surely wilt thou say to the praying seed of Jacob,” Seek ye my face in vain!


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