The command rings out still, “Comfort ye, comfort ye my people,” and though heaven’s angels attend the heirs of salvation, it falls also upon every blood-bought child to speak a word in season to the weary. Hear then what the Lord, ever faithful, declares to the tried soul.
This trial has not seized you as some strange thing; it is common to man, and the God who is faithful will not suffer you to be tempted above what you are able. Indeed, the Lord measures every stroke of the rod, and there is not a drop more gall in your cup than His wisdom has ordained. But observe the peculiar comfort He gives: it springs not merely from outward circumstances, but from His Word quickening the soul. The letter alone is husk, but the Spirit makes it a living seed of consolation in affliction. When the flesh quails and the surgeon’s knife draws near, the renewed heart can say, “This is my comfort in my affliction, for Your Word has quickened me.”
Look not chiefly for a smooth passage, but for a steadfast heart. Comfort alone is insufficient, for it might lull the soul into a soft slumber; constancy in well-doing and patient endurance is the greater jewel. Yet constancy without comfort would leave you crushed. The Lord Jesus Christ Himself, and God our Father, who hath loved us and given us everlasting consolation, will stablish your heart in every good word and work, even while the body groans. Though you walk through the valley of the shadow of the operating chamber, fear no ill; the Angel of the covenant encamps round them that fear Him, and underneath are the everlasting arms. Should the pain seem sharp and the prospect clouded, remember the precious truth Christ’s omniscience yields comfort to the trembling disciple; He knows your frame, He sees the unuttered cry, He understands the groaning that cannot be articulated.
There will come an hour when this present misery shall be remembered only as waters that pass away. Time, the healer under God’s hand, will soften the keen edge; but better still, the Spirit’s work of grace will quicken you so that you forget the anguish in the sweetness of His love. Raise your eyes from the instrument of affliction to the hand that wields it. He breaks no bruised reed, He quenches no smoking flax. Totter not on the staff of your own strength; lean heavily on Him. The Lord knows them that are His, and though your frame be frail and these two surgical trials loom close, your soul leaps away into a secret pavilion where no fear can enter. God, who makes a way of escape or supplies strength to bear, will not forsake His own in the hour of need. A bruised reed, a smoking wick, is safe with Jesus.
Therefore lift your heart beyond the surgeon’s ward. Your Redeemer lives, and because He lives you shall live also. The Word which has quickened you is your anchor cast into the haven of eternal faithfulness. Be of good courage; He who began a good work will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ. Your prayer is heard, your soul is held, and the end of this path is no abortive defeat but a consummation devoutly to be wished. Let your request be known to God with thanksgiving, for He cares for you. Peace be multiplied.
The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God stands forever, and that Word assures you His mercy shall be with you in the morning and the evening, the day of surgery and the day of recovery. He who spared not His own Son will with Him freely give you all things needed for body and soul. Breathe your prayer into His bosom, Lord, if possible let this cup pass; but if not, let me be able to bear it, and hear Him answer, “My grace is sufficient for thee.”