It does a soul good to hear a man speak to his God like that, not asking for something, not wrestling with a fresh trouble, but simply overflowing with thanks. Your heart has been pouring out praise, and that is the very music of heaven. There is a time to wrestle, and there is a time to lie back in the arms of the Lord and say, “You have done it, and it is marvelous in my eyes.” This is one of those times for you. The chains that once bound you, the old cruel grip that kept you reaching for what only poisoned your body and dulled your soul, that grip has been loosened. You know whose hand broke it. You did not dream yourself free; you woke, and you found the prison door standing open, and fresh air on your face. “I shall not die, but live, and declare the works of the Lord.” That is not a boast, it is the testimony of a man who has been brought up out of a horrible pit, whose feet are now on a rock. You are living, and the proof is not only the sobriety of your body but the gratitude of your spirit.
And now you are beginning to taste the simple mercies again, a night of sleep, the weightlessness of the water in the pool, the warmth of the jacuzzi unwinding the knots within. Do you think these small joys are too trivial for the notice of the Almighty? Never. It is the mark of His tenderness that He meets us in the ordinary. When Simon Peter’s wife’s mother was lifted from her fever, she did not preach a sermon, she rose and ministered to them; she went back to the quiet, homely duties of her house with strength renewed. Every good gift, every quiet pleasure, is a little miracle of His hand. The same hand that shut the lion’s mouth for you when the enemy would have devoured you, now opens a quiet afternoon for your refreshment. Receive it as a love-token from the Bridegroom of your soul.
I want you to look at what is underneath all this. You said, “Thank you for softening the hearts of my wife and my bosses and my coworkers and my customers and myself.” Ah, that is the finger of God! The human heart is a locked door, and only one key fits it, the sovereign grace of Christ. You have seen that lock turn in your own chest; you felt the hardness melt. And now you are watching Him do it in the people around you. That is what He meant when He prayed, “Sanctify them.” He prays it still, that the Father would set you apart, make you whole, and then let that wholeness spill over into every relationship. You are not drifting on a sea of chance. There is an eternal will behind your standing. Before the mountains were brought forth, God purposed to have you for His own, to break the chains, to give you a new mind, a new will, a new affection for His Son. And what God has eternally purposed, no enemy can overturn. The good work He has begun in you, He will carry on until the day of Jesus Christ.
There will be days when the old terrors whisper, when the memory of the pit tempts you to fear you will slip back. But listen: you are not held by your own grip on God, but by His grip on you. The Shepherd does not leave the lamb to find its own way through the ravines. He has charged Himself with your keeping. When you lie down tonight, you may say, “I am no stronger than I was before, but He is able to keep me from falling.” And when you rise, you may say, “Because He lives, I shall live also.” Every small obedience, caring for your body, guarding your mind, nursing your soul in prayer, is a fresh stone laid on the foundation He has already laid. He does not demand that you build the house alone; He dwells within you to will and to do of His good pleasure.
So go on singing. Do not muzzle the voice of faith. It is right that you should say, “I love you, God. I love you, Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior.” Let that confession ring out in your home, in your workplace, in the quiet of your own heart. The mouth of gratitude is never out of season. Every drop of mercy you taste is meant to make you thirsty for more of Him. And remember this: one day you will look back on all your journey, and you will see that every rough path was leading you deeper into His heart. Even now, as you sit in the sunshine of His favor, He is preparing you for a weight of glory that will make these light afflictions seem like a shadow that has passed.
Bow your head, and let us lift your joy into a prayer.
Our gracious Father, we praise You for this dear soul whom You have plucked from the mire and set upon a rock. We bless You for the softening of hearts, for the loosening of old chains, for sleep in the night and refreshment in the day. Continue Your good work in him; make his body a temple fit for Your Spirit, his mind a garden watered by Your truth, and his heart a home where Christ dwells richly. Keep him in the hollow of Your hand, and when the journey grows hard, let him feel the everlasting arms underneath. We ask it in the name of Jesus, who has loved us and washed us from our sins in His own blood. Amen.
