“There remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God.” — Hebrews 4:9
How different will be the state of the believer in heaven from what it is
here! Here he is born to toil and suffer weariness, but in the land of the
immortal, fatigue is never known. Anxious to serve his Master, he finds his
strength unequal to his zeal: his constant cry is, “Help me to serve Thee,
O my God.” If he be thoroughly active, he will have much labour; not too
much for his will, but more than enough for his power, so that he will cry
out, “I am not wearied of the labour, but I am wearied in it. “ Ah!
Christian, the hot day of weariness lasts not for ever; the sun is nearing the
horizon; it shall rise again with a brighter day than thou hast ever seen
upon a land where they serve God day and night, and yet rest from their
labours. Here, rest is but partial, there, it is perfect. Here, the Christian is
always unsettled; he feels that he has not yet attained. There, all are at
rest; they have attained the summit of the mountain; they have ascended to
the bosom of their God. Higher they cannot go. Ah, toil-worn labourer,
only think when thou shalt rest for ever! Canst thou conceive it? It is a
rest eternal; a rest that “remaineth.” Here, my best joys bear “mortal” on
their brow; my fair flowers fade; my dainty cups are drained to dregs; my
sweetest birds fall before Death’s arrows; my most pleasant days are
shadowed into nights; and the flood-tides of my bliss subside into ebbs of
sorrow; but there, everything is immortal; the harp abides unrusted, the
crown unwithered, the eye undimmed, the voice unfaltering, the heart
unwavering, and the immortal being is wholly absorbed in infinite delight.
Happy day! happy! when mortality shall be swallowed up of life, and the
Eternal Sabbath shall begin.
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