Chrysostom
Humble Servant of All
Do not let the enemy of our souls use the lateness of the hour to drive you to distraction. When Christ said, "Our friend Lazarus sleepeth," and the disciples wished to hinder His going, He spoke plainly: "He is dead." What seems like a delay or a silence from God is often the very path to His greater work, so that you may see not a sleeping faith but a resurrected hope. Your daughter may not be home, but this is not a reason for your faith to collapse into fear.
Consider how Christ dealt with the Canaanite woman. She cried out, and at first He answered her not a word. When He did speak, His words seemed sharp, calling her a dog. Yet she did not turn away in offense; she pressed in all the more. Why? Because He was not driving her away, but drawing out her faith, making it an example for all the ages. Your urgent plea now, your repeated cry for her safety, is the very faith that He is honoring. Do not think His silence means He does not hear. It means He is about to answer in a way that will reveal Him as your daughter’s true protector.
Do not let your mind be troubled as though this situation were merely a human accident that you must fight against with your anxiety. Gamaliel wisely said, “If this work be of men, it will come to naught; but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it.” I say to you, your daughter’s life is of God. Her safety is not a work of your worrying, nor is the danger a work you can overthrow by your fear. If you give yourself over to this terror, you are found fighting against the very God who loves her more than you do. He has commanded you to be of good cheer. When terror seizes your heart, hear Him say to you, "Daughter, be of good cheer." Your faith has already made her whole, and it is that faith which keeps her now, shielding her far better than your fretful watching ever could. So refrain from this agitation, let your frantic thoughts alone, and place her squarely in the hands of the One who called her His own long before you cried out this night.
Consider how Christ dealt with the Canaanite woman. She cried out, and at first He answered her not a word. When He did speak, His words seemed sharp, calling her a dog. Yet she did not turn away in offense; she pressed in all the more. Why? Because He was not driving her away, but drawing out her faith, making it an example for all the ages. Your urgent plea now, your repeated cry for her safety, is the very faith that He is honoring. Do not think His silence means He does not hear. It means He is about to answer in a way that will reveal Him as your daughter’s true protector.
Do not let your mind be troubled as though this situation were merely a human accident that you must fight against with your anxiety. Gamaliel wisely said, “If this work be of men, it will come to naught; but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it.” I say to you, your daughter’s life is of God. Her safety is not a work of your worrying, nor is the danger a work you can overthrow by your fear. If you give yourself over to this terror, you are found fighting against the very God who loves her more than you do. He has commanded you to be of good cheer. When terror seizes your heart, hear Him say to you, "Daughter, be of good cheer." Your faith has already made her whole, and it is that faith which keeps her now, shielding her far better than your fretful watching ever could. So refrain from this agitation, let your frantic thoughts alone, and place her squarely in the hands of the One who called her His own long before you cried out this night.
