A Lesson In The Interior Life

True spiritual joy comes from trusting in God's unchanging nature, not from external circumstances. Like the caterpillar that must die to become a butterfly, the soul must let go of the self-life to embrace divine life. Through trials and loss, the soul learns to find peace and joy in God alone. The key lesson is captured in the prophet’s words: “Although... yet,” showing the triumph of rejoicing in Go d despite challenges.

At Christmas, many of our store windows show a significant picture. It is a dreary, desolate winter scene. There is a dark, stormy sky, bare trees, and brown grass and dead weeds, with patches of snow over them. On a leafless tree at one side of the picture is an empty and snow-covered nest, and on a branch near sits a little bird. It is cold, dark, and desolate enough to daunt any bird, and drive it to some fairer clime. But, this bird sits there, content. Its little head is bravely lifted to the sky, and a winter song is about to burst from its tiny throat.

This picture, which always stands on my shelf, has preached me many a sermon. And the test is always the same. It is in the two words at the head of this article, "Although" and "Yet."

“ Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls,” (Habakkuk3:17). There come times in many lives when, like this winter bird, the soul finds itself without comfort. All seems dark and wrong. Everything we trusted fails us. Promises seem unfulfilled, and our prayers go unanswered. We find nothing left to rely on in earth or Heaven. And it is at such times as these that the brave little bird with its message is needed. Although all is wrong everywhere, yet there is one thing to rejoice in: God. He is the God of our salvation. He does not change. He is the same good, loving, tender God yesterday, today, and forever.

We can rejoice in Him always, whether we have anything else to rejoice in or not. By rejoicing in Him, I do not mean rejoicing in ourselves. I fear most people think this is what is meant. Their feelings, revelations, and experiences form the basis of their joy. If none are satisfactory, they see no chance of joy at all. But the lesson the Lord is trying to teach us all the time is the lesson of humility.

He commands us to look away from the self and its experiences. We must crucify the self and count it dead. We must cease to care about the self. We should know and want nothing but God.

The reason for this is that God has destined us for a higher life than the self-life. That, just as He has destined the caterpillar to be a butterfly, He has appointed its life to die. So, the butterfly may take its place. Likewise, He has appointed our self-life to die so that the divine life may be ours instead. The caterpillar destroys its grub form to become a butterfly. It dies that it may live. And just so must we.

So, the most essential thing now is to die to self and be reborn to a life in God. And it is for this reason that the lesson of joy in the Lord, and not in self, must be learned. Every advancing soul must, sooner or later, trust God. The bare God, if I may. It must trust Him for what He is, not for His promises or gifts. It must learn to have its joy in Him alone, and to rejoice in Him when all else in Heaven and earth shall seem to fail.

I believe the only way to reach this place is by the soul. It must face, in its own experience, the loss of all things, both inward and outward. I don't mean that all one's friends must die, or all one's money be lost. I mean that the soul shall find itself, from either inward or outward causes, abandoned, lost, and empty of all consolation. It must come to the end of everything that is not God, and must have nothing else left to rest on within or without. It must experience just what the prophet meant when he wrote that “Although.”

It must go through the mud, fall off the edge, and be covered by the water . It must, at last, find, among and below them, the present, living, loving, omnipotent God! Only then will it understand the prophet's exulting shout of triumph. It will be able to join it : " yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation.”(Habakkuk 3:10) Then, and not until then, will it know the full meaning of the verse that follows: “ GOD, the Lord, is my strength; he makes my feet like the deer’s; he makes me tread on my high places .”(Habakkuk3:19) The soul often walks on what seem high places. They are, however, largely self-made and emotional, with little of God in them. In moments of loss and failure, these high places become edges. But the high places to which the Lord brings the soul that rejoices only in Him can be touched by no darkness or loss. Their very foundations are laid in the midst of an utter loss and death of all that is not God.

To find an unwavering experience, we must seek it only in the Lord. We must seek it apart from all else, His gifts, and His blessings. We must seek it apart from all that can change with our earthly life.

Today's answered prayer may seem unanswered tomorrow. The once-fulfilled promises may no longer feel real. The spiritual blessing that once brought joy may be lost. All we may have left is a hungry, longing memory of it all. But when all else is gone, God is still left. Nothing changes Him. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and in Him is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.

And the soul that finds its joy in Him alone can suffer no wavering. It is grand to trust in the promises, but it is grander still to trust in the Promiser. The promises may be misunderstood or misapplied. When we rely on them, they may seem to fail us. But no one ever trusted in the Promiser and was confounded.

The God behind His promises is infinitely greater than them. He can never fail us in any emergency.

The soul that trusts in Him knows perfect peace.

The little child does not always understand its mother's promises. But it knows its mother. Its trust is based not on her word, but on herself. And just so it is with those of us who have learned the lesson of this “Although” and “Yet.” There may not be a prayer answered or a prom ise fulfilled to our own consciousness, but what of that? Behind the prayers and behind the promises, there is God, and He is enough. And to such a soul the simple words, “God is”, answer every question and solve every doubt.

To the little trusting child, the simple fact of the mother’s existence is the answer to all its needs. The mother may not make one single promise or detail any plan, but she is, and that is enough for the child.

The child rejoices in the mother, not in her promises, but in herself. To the child, as to us, there is joy.

It is the one unchangeable thing behind all that changes and can change. It is the mother's existence.

The child must be cared for while the mother lives. The child, instinctively if not intelligently, knows this and rejoices in it. And while God lives, His children must be cared for. They should know this and rejoice in it more than a human child would.

For what else can God do, being what He is? Neglect, indifference, forgetfulness, and ignorance are all impossible to Him. He knows everything. He cares about everything. He can manage everything. He loves us. What more could we ask? So, come what may, we will lift our faces to our God, like our brave little bird teacher. In our darkest "Althoughs," we will sing our glad and triumphant "Yet."

All of God’s saints in all ages have done this. Job said, out of the depths of sorrow and trial which few can equal, “ Though he slay me I will hope in him; yet I will argue my ways to his face .”(Job 13:15). In his deepest ang uish, David could say, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” (Psalm 23:4) And again, "God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble."(Psalm 46:1). Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah there is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns.

In his sorrows, Paul could say, "We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies.

For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus ’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. So death is at work in us, but life in you.” (2Corinthianss 4:812).The soul that learned to rejoice in God alone can say all this and more.

Spiritual joy is not a thing, not a lump of joy, so to speak, stored away in one’s heart to be looked at and rejoiced over. Joy is the gladness from having something good or knowing something pleasant.

And the Christian’s joy is simply his gladness in knowing Christ, and in his possession o f such a God and Saviour. We do not on an earthly plane rejoice in our joy, but in the thing that causes our joy. And on the heavenly plane, it is the same. We must " yet I will rejoice in the LORD; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. "(Habakkuk 3:18.) No man or devil can take this joy from us. No earthly sorrows can touch it.

A writer on the interior life says, in effect, that our spiritual journey has three very different regions.

Each is a necessary stage in our progress. First, there is the region of beginnings. It is a time of simple joys and delights, strong hopes, and deep feelings. Many secrets reveal God. Next is a vast wilderness, full of temptations and trials. It brings a loss of reason, dryness, and inner and outer darkness. If, after a long trial, you endure the desert, a region of mountain heights awaits. There, you will find a union with God, a detachment from earthly things, and a perfect contentment with His will. You will be transformed into the image of Christ.

I cannot discuss if this order is true. But, I am sure of one thing. Many souls, who found joy in the "Region of beginnings" here, later faced a desert experience that left them amazed and perplexed. And I cannot but think such might, perhaps, in this explanation, find the answer to their trouble. They are learning to detach from all that is not God. This is to unite their souls with Him, as shown in a picture of the third and highest region of bliss.

The soul’s pathway is always through death to life. The caterpillar must die to become a butterfly. It can only do so by giving up one life to live another. And neither can we. So, we may have to pass through this desolate, deadly region to reach the calm mountain heights beyond. If we know this, we can walk through the darkest times, sure that all is well, since God is God. Many who read this paper have at least one of these desert "Althoughs." Some have many.

Dear friends, is the “Yet” there also? Have you learned the prophet’s lesson? Is God enough for you?

Can you sing and mean it, "You, O Christ, are all I want, more than all in you I find" If not, you need the little bird to speak to you.

His song, as he sits on that bare, leafless tree in the howling winter storm, must become your song too.

Though the rain may fall and the wind blow, And the chill is the wintry blast; Though the cloudier sky is still clouding, And the dead leaves tell that summer is passed; Yet my face I hold to the stormy heaven, My heart is as calm as a summer sea; Glad to receive what my God has given, Whatever it may be.

When I feel the cold, I can say, 'He sends it.' And His wind blows blessing, I surely know. For I've never wanted but that He attends it. My heart beats warm, though the winds may blow. The soft, sweet summer was warm and glowing. Bright were the blossoms on every bough. I trusted Him when the roses were blowing. I trust Him now.

My faith would be small and weak if it wavered just because the roses have stopped blooming . Frail was the trust that now should alter, doubting His love when the storm-clouds grow. If I trust Him once, I must trust Him ever. His way is best, though I stand or fall. Through wind or storm, He will leave me never, for He sends all."