The Hidden Life

"Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For ye are dead, and your life is  hid with Christ in God."  Col. iii. 2, 3.

My life is folded in the life of Jesus,
No longer mine, but purchased by that tide,
That crimson tide, which shed on Calvary, frees us
From those dark stains that in our hearts abide.
MY LIFE IS HID WITH CHRIST, and I am His.
Whate'er his will, that am I bound to do;
If He doth call me to far lands and seas,
I hear his summons, and his steps pursue.
Where'er He goes, I cannot stay behind;
In what He does, my hand shall have employ;
Whene'er He suffers, sorrow fills my mind;
When He rejoices, I partake the joy.
He bought me by his blood, and I am his;
I have no other will, no other grief nor bliss.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XIII.

The Place of Refuge

"For thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in distress, a refuge from  the  storm."

"A man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest."  Is. xxv. 4-xxxii. 2.

The clouds are gathering in the distant sky;
I hear the fiercely muttering thunders roll;
Terrors invade my breast; my trembling soul
Looks forth around, but sees no refuge nigh.
Ah, whither shall I flee? What friendly hand
Shall guide me to some safe, select retreat,
Where, while the dark, perpetual tempests beat,
Unscathed, uninjured, I may safely stand?
He comes! He comes! I see the platted crown;
I see the bleeding feet, the wounded side.
Now let the bellowing storm rush fiercely down,
Thy smile shall comfort me, Thine arms shall hide.
With Thee, Thou dear Redeemer, are no fears;
Thou scatterest all my doubts, and wipest all my tears.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XII.

Consolation in the Gospel

"That we might have a strong consolation,  who  have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us: which hope we have as an anchor to the soul both sure and steadfast."  Heb. vi. 18, 19.

How beautiful, as fades the gloom of night,
How beautiful the early sunbeams fall
In long and leveled lines of light, o'er all
The wide expanse of plain, and vale, and height,
And clothe them with a young and purple bloom!
So, when my heart environed is with sorrow,
And from the earth no ray of hope can borrow,
The Gospel's glory dissipates its gloom.
That Gospel plants a sun within my breast,
Which hath the power to change dark shades to day;
Unchanged, unfailing, it transmits its ray,
And e'en in sorrow makes my bosom blest.
The vales throw off their shades, the mists take wing,
The flowers unfold their leaves, the birds start up and sing.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XI.

The Sanctification of Desire as the Foundation of a Holy Will

When the Desires, including the various Appetites, Propensities, and Affections, are reduced to their proper position by being brought under the controlling influence of divine love, and are truly sanctified to the Lord, there is a foundation laid for the right action of the Will.

It is well understood, I suppose, that the Will acts, if it acts at all, in accordance either with natural and interested motives on the one hand, or of moral motives on the other. In a mind, that is not the subject of any degree of alienated action, and which, therefore, in the ordinary sense of the terms, may properly be called a sound mind, the moral sense will always act right and act effectively, and will always furnish a powerful motive to the Will, unless it is perplexed and weakened in its action, (which, however, is very likely to be the case in the natural man,) by the influence of unsanctified desires.

If, therefore, the desires are sanctified, and the perplexing and disordering influence from that source is taken away, the feelings of desire and the sentiment of justice will combine their action in the same direction, and the action of the Will cannot be otherwise than holy. To possess holy desires, therefore, in their various modifications, or what is the same thing, to possess, as we sometimes express it, a holy HEART, is necessarily to possess a holy WILL. There is no reason, under such circumstances, why the will should not act right. And a right will is a holy will. To secure such a consummation — the appetites subdued, the propensities regulated, the affections sanctified, the will just in its action, and consequently united with the will of God — to secure a result so immensely important in itself and its relations, how devoutly should we pray! How constantly and ardently should we labor!

"Create, O God, my powers anew,

Make my whole heart sincere and true;

Oh, cast me not in wrath away,

Nor let thy soul-enlivening ray

Still cease to shine."

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 2, Chapter 9.

Resentment

The doctrines of holiness apply to the principle of RESENTMENT, as well as to other parts of the mind. It is impossible for a holy person not to be displeased, and sometimes greatly displeased, at acts of iniquity. The injunction of the Apostle, "be ye angry and sin not," seems to imply, that there may be cases, in which a person may be displeased and may be angry without necessarily incurring sin. It is said of the blessed Savior himself, that he looked upon the Pharisees "with anger, being grieved for the hardness of their hearts." But here again the evil hand of nature, (not nature as it was, but nature as it has become,) has been at work. Selfishness, which is but another name for the life of nature, infuses into the displeasure of the unsanctified man, even when there is a foundation for it within proper limits, a degree of severity and unforgivingness, which is inconsistent with holiness, and is fatal to true inward peace.

How often, and how sadly this has been the case; how often and how deeply individuals and churches have been injured from this cause, no one is ignorant. Families and nations, as well as individuals, have experienced the dreadful effects of the displeased and angry feelings, when they are not overruled and kept in check by true piety. The history of the world, from its earliest periods, is a solemn and monitory lesson on this subject. "He, that is slow to anger, is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than he that taketh a city." There seems to be need of greater effort and of more faith and prayer, to regulate entirely this department of the Affections, (usually denominated the Malevolent Affections,) than is required in the regulation of the other. But the grace of God is sufficient even here.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 2, Chapter 9.

Our Loves Must Also be Surrendered to God

It cannot be doubted, that it is right for a man to love the members of his family, and that it is his duty to do so; but if his domestic attachments become from any cause so strong as to annul or to vitiate his love to men generally or to God, or on the other hand if they become so weakened as to fall short of the divine requirements, they are wrong.

Immutable right has a claim and a power, which entitle it to regulate every thing else. Even LOVE itself, an element so essential to all moral goodness that it gives a character and name to God himself, ceases to be love, the moment it ceases to be in conformity with justice. Love, that is not just, is not holy; and love, that is not holy, is selfishness under the name of love. Every affection, therefore, however amiable and honorable it may be when it is in a right position, is wrong and is at variance with inward holiness of life, which is not in conformity with the rule of right. And in hearts unsanctified, just so far as there is a defect or want of sanctification, in other words just so far as the love of God fails to regulate such affections, this is always the case.

— edited from The interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 2, Chapter 9.

A Univeral Conception of God

There is a period, however, in the process of sanctification, when God is gradually withdrawn from [His former] position [in our minds], and ceases to be either limited or local. At this period, the well-defined and impressive image, which had been present to our thoughts for many years, becomes more and more indistinct,  more and more remote from us, until it entirely disappears. But this withdrawment of God from a particular locality, which at first is perplexing and trying, is followed by his substitution and re-appearance to the eye of faith, not exclusively in any one place or thing, but in all things and all places; — in every tree, and plant and rock, and flower; in every star, in the wandering moon, in the floating cloud, in the wide and deep sea, — in insects and birds, and the wild beasts of the mountain, — in men, who more than any thing else, bear the image of God; — and in all events, as well as in all things.