How often the proud heart says, "I will go, I will continue, I will buy and sell and get gain," as though a man could propose and dispose without the consent of the Almighty. This landlord imagines the house is his own, yet a voice from the cloud speaks, "Thou fool, this night thy soul shall be required of thee." The Great Landlord holds the keys of every tenement of clay, and none can stay His hand when He cometh to inspect the chambers of the heart. It is a blessed thing when a soul begins to hear the Majestic Voice that thundereth marvellously, for that voice, though it break the cedars of Lebanon, yet speaks peace to those who yield. I see in this request a yearning that this man might not be like stout-hearted Pharaoh, asking, "Who is the Lord that I should obey His voice?" but rather that he might become as one brought to his senses, yielding as reason and grace suggest.
The surrender of every proud pretension is no light matter; it is the dethroning of self, the end of the warfare with the King of kings. Yet what folly to fight against omnipotence! Shall man say, "I will not" when God's will is the axle of the universe? Salvation itself is of God's will, and the Spirit's work is to change the human will, making men willing in the day of His power. Let us therefore plead with heaven that this landlord's will be taken, not by force of arms, but by that sweet compulsion which makes the rebel throw down his weapons and cry, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" Has he kept back a portion for himself? That little reserve will be the channel by which his life bleeds away. He must yield all, house, land, self, or he yields nothing.
The Great Landlord comes not to spy out a mere tenant's faults but to claim His own. This mortal life and its surroundings are but a house; and when the Lease expires, what will the man do who has never acknowledged the Owner? If, in his spirit, he says, "I will not have God to reign over me," it will go harder with him at the last than if he had never heard the claims of grace. But there is hope. The Master stands at the door and knocks, showing the marks of His wounds, the scars in His hands and feet and side. He asks, "Will you yield to Me? Will you end the war?" And to every soul that surrenders at discretion, He gives His hand and says, "Go in peace; there is peace between Me and thee."
Let us join our faith and crying with the petitioners. Let us use our voice in prayer, for when men grow earnest they use the voice as well as the mind. Cry mightily that this landlord may hear God's own voice speaking in the Word, for the mere letter killeth, but the voice of the Beloved makes the heart burn. May he put his ear down to the promises till he hears the Father say, "I will have mercy upon her that had not obtained mercy." Such a voice brought Saul of Tarsus from his high horse, and it can bring this soul from the lofty seat of self-trust. Pray that the inward monitor, the still small voice, may pursue him through every room of his life, until he cheerfully leaves the first house and joyfully surrenders the key to the Great Landlord, for he will see in Christ the remembrances of grace, the marks of His own workmanship. The Lord will not cast off forever; He waiteth to be gracious. Even now He stands ready to run and embrace the returning prodigal. Trust Him, for He is a Trustee who never yet failed any that entrusted their soul to Him. Amen, even so, come, Lord Jesus, subdue this heart and make it wholly Thine.