Ashton Oxenden

Some receive affliction as if they deserved a different treatment from God. They murmur at it. It chafes and irritates them. Like “a bullock unaccustomed to the yoke,” they will not bend their neck. This must be wrong; for shall we receive good at the hands of God, and not evil? If chastisement is our portion, must it not be well for us?

Others again receive it with unconcern, as something they must put up with as best they can. They look upon it simply as a misfortune, which is to be borne because it cannot be avoided. This too must be wrong.

A true Christian will receive affliction with submission. It is his Father’s doing; and therefore he quietly submits. It comes from Him, and must therefore be well. He feels that there is a needs-be for it. What a sweet pillow is this, on which to rest his weary head! He cannot, perhaps, see why it is needful; but he acknowledges that it must be right, and that what he “knows not now,” he will “know hereafter.” It is a voice of love; and he is ready to exclaim with Samuel, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.” I can give you no better prayer than that contained in the well-known hymn,

Renew my will from day to day,
Blend it with Thine; and take away
All that now makes it hard to say —
Your will be done.

We should receive our affliction too with patience. Paul says that “tribulation works patience.” This ought to be its effect upon us; and this will be its effect, if God blesses it to us. Sometimes patience can be learned in no other school. We are taught in the chambers of sickness and suffering — what we cannot learn elsewhere. What precept and example fail to teach us, affliction sometimes will.

You are now called to patient, humble suffering. Others may be called to do much for God; you are called to suffer. Your duty is to be still. This is your work now. Your heavenly Father allots it to you. And, be assured, you may glorify Him quite as much by your patience, as you could do by the most active service.

Oh then, submit to this wholesome discipline; and pray that it may tame, and subdue, and chasten you — leading you to bear without a murmur whatever your heavenly Father shall lay upon you.

Our affliction should humble us. The people of Nineveh humbled themselves in their trial. Job said, “I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear; but now my eye sees You. Therefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.” David says, “I was silent, and opened not my mouth, for You are the one who has done this!” Even proud Nebuchadnezzar was for a while laid low. And we Christians are exhorted to “humble ourselves under the mighty hand of God.”

Surely, if anything will bring down our high thoughts, and set us upon our right level, it is sickness. You may, perhaps, hitherto have prided yourself on your strength, or your appearance, or your abilities. What are they now that you are wasted by sickness? Or you have perhaps been inclined to boast of your learning. But can learning relieve your pains, or help you to meet death? It is utterly powerless on such occasions. Or, again, you may have been lifted up by riches. But how miserably poor we seem, when God’s chastening hand is upon us! Fall down then before God, and say, “Naked came I into the world, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away: blessed be the name of the Lord!”

But I must go even further still, and say, that a real Christian will receive his affliction with thankfulness — yes, even with thankfulness!

I doubt not but you now find it very hard to say, “Thank God for this trial.” And yet you ought to say it: and perhaps the time will come when you will be able to say it from your very heart. And even before this sickness has left you, your happy experience may be, “It is good for me that I have been afflicted. Before I was afflicted I went wrong, but now have I kept Your Word.”

For the sake of those about you, as well as for your own sake, try and take your trial thankfully and cheerfully. Brighten up. There is good in store for you. Yes, it is even on its way to you, though you may not see it. This illness, or this misfortune, may prove to be among your richest blessings. Ask God to make it so; and then it will “yield the peaceable fruits of righteousness.”

It has been said that there is a rough and a smooth side to every handle, and that we may take hold of things by either. It is good if you can get into the habit of always choosing the smooth side. And you will be able, if only you can believe that Word, which says that “We know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose!” Romans 8:28.

There is a dark and a bright side to every providence, as there was to the pillar in the wilderness. We naturally fix on the dark side and call it sorrow; but faith sees a ray of light amidst the gloom, and forthwith our sorrow is turned into joy.

Though your sufferings may be great — think how many mercies you have. Think too, how many people suffer, even more than you do. Above all, think of Him who suffered so bitterly, but yet so cheerfully — and that for your sake — who said, as His darkest hour drew near, “The cup which my Father has given me, shall I not drink it?”

Ah, if Jesus is with you — if He “speaks peace” to your soul — your gloomy chamber will be lighted up, and a peace will be there which the world knows not of. How true it is that “afflictions are blessings to us — when we can bless God for our afflictions.”

It was said of a young Christian sufferer that, “Notwithstanding the sadness of seeing her suffer, her room was the happiest place in all the house — the place where her sisters were sure to see the bright side of things, and to learn that to the thankful heart, mercies lie thickly strewn along the path of suffering.”

Some murmur when their sky is clear,
And wholly bright to view,
If one small speck of dark appear
In their great Heaven of blue.

While some with thankful love are filled,
If but one streak of light,
One ray of God’s great mercy, gild
The darkness of their night.