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remaineth therefore a rest to the people of God." --Hebrews 4:9
How different will be the state of the
believer in heaven from what it is here! Here he is born to toil and suffer
weariness, but in the land of the immortal, fatigue is never known. Anxious to
serve his Master, he finds his strength unequal to his zeal: his constant cry
is, "Help me to serve Thee, O my God." If he be thoroughly active, he
will have much labour; not too much for his will, but more than enough for his
power, so that he will cry out, "I am not wearied of the labour, but I am
wearied in it." Ah! Christian, the hot day of weariness lasts not for
ever; the sun is nearing the horizon; it shall rise again with a brighter day
than thou hast ever seen upon a land where they serve God day and night, and
yet rest from their labours. Here, rest is but partial, there, it is perfect.
Here, the Christian is always unsettled; he feels that he has not yet attained.
There, all are at rest; they have attained the summit of the mountain; they
have ascended to the bosom of their God. Higher they cannot go. Ah, toil-worn
labourer, only think when thou shalt rest for ever! Canst thou conceive it? It
is a rest eternal; a rest that "remaineth." Here, my best joys bear
"mortal" on their brow; my fair flowers fade; my dainty cups are
drained to dregs; my sweetest birds fall before Death's arrows; my most
pleasant days are shadowed into nights; and the flood-tides of my bliss subside
into ebbs of sorrow; but there, everything is immortal; the harp abides
unrusted, the crown unwithered, the eye undimmed, the voice unfaltering, the
heart unwavering, and the immortal being is wholly absorbed in infinite
delight. Happy day! happy! when mortality shall be swallowed up of life, and
the Eternal Sabbath shall begin.