| Week-Day Religion |
Chapter 10 |
Page 6 |
There is no life in the world so sweet as that of one who truly serves Christ. It is always easy to toil for one we love. And when the heart is full of love for the Master, it throws a wondrous warmth and tenderness about all duty. Things that would be very austere or repulsive merely as duties become very easy when done for him.
It was a strange fancy of a little child, writes George Macdonald, as he stood on a summer’s evening looking intently and thoughtfully at the great banks of clouds piled like mountains of glory about the setting sun: “Mother, I wish I could be a painter.” – “Why, my child?” – “For then I would help God paint the clouds and the sunsets.” It was a strange and beautiful aspiration. But our commonest work in this world may be made far nobler than that. We may live to touch hues of loveliness in immortal spirits which shall endure for ever.
Clouds dissolve and float away. The most gorgeous sunset splendors vanish in a few moments. The artist’s canvas crumbles and his wondrous creations fade. But work done for Christ endures for ever. A life of simple consecration leaves a trace of imperishable beauty on everything it touches. Not great deeds alone, but the smallest, the obscurest, the most prosaic, write their record in fadeless lines.
We need to have but the one care – that we live our one little life truly unto the Lord.
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