As I lay brooding in my melancholy state, a Red Grosbeak, with his bright red plumage, alighted on a tree a few feet from my window. His eyes sparkled as he gazed at me with interest. He turned his head now this way and now that, apparently studying me intently, and then he gave a cheery call and hopped as near to me as he could get and repeated his cries over and over. Somehow his cries took the form of words in my mind. This is what he said to me, "You, you, you — cheer up, cheer up, cheer up!" He hopped about from limb to limb, wiping his beak, picking at pieces of bark, but ever and anon hopping back to look at me and cry again. "Cheer up, cheer up, cheer up!" This he did for a long time, then he flew away, only to return soon and to peer at me again, crying his merry "You, you, you — cheer up, cheer up, cheer up!" For more than two hours he continued to repeat this and then went away, and far in the distance I heard the last echoes of his notes still saying, "Cheer up, cheer up!"
It seemed as though God had sent the bird to bring a message to my soul. As I thought of the cold and the snow and the winter winds, of the bird's uncertain supply of food, of his many enemies, and considered that, in spite of all this, he could be so cheerful and mirthful — it made me feel ashamed that I should be so melancholy and despondent. His message, enforced by his example, sank into my heart.
I began to think over the favorable side of my situation. I began to consider how many things the Lord had bestowed upon me in the past — his saving mercy, his kindness, and his blessings. My heart took courage — and hope began to lift herself up from the dust. I reflected over the way I had yielded to discouragement. I saw that if I was ever to rise above it, I must set myself resolutely to the task of looking upon the bright side and of overcoming the gloom and heaviness. The message of the bird made me ashamed to submit longer to my selfish feelings. I resolved then and there that I would be different — and from that day, I began to act and think and speak more cheerfully.
Many times I had to act contrary to the way I felt, but I found that this was having an influence upon my feelings, and the more I practiced being cheerful — the more cheerful I became. Many times I have been sorely pressed down in spirit, but I have found that I can act cheerfully and talk cheerfully even in the midst of depression — and that this is not hypocrisy, but the true way in which to meet such things and conquer them.
Cheerfulness is largely a matter of habit. We must do one of two things: either yield to our feelings and let them be our master — or compel our feelings to yield to us that we may be their master. It is a case of conquering — or being conquered. So many people are at the mercy of their emotions. If they do not feel well in body, or their mind is troubled, or their spiritual sky is clouded — they yield themselves to gloomy thoughts and look upon the dark side of the picture. Their thoughts and feelings are reflected in their face, and actions and words. This, in turn, reacts upon them, and they then feel worse in body and mind. Everyone around them knows how they feel.
This is putting a premium on your bad feelings. It is encouraging them. And it is a very bad habit. You can be cheerful if you will to. Do not wear your troubles on your face. Do not let them put a note of sadness in your voice. Cease your sighing — you are only adding to your burdens.
Take the birds advice — and cheer up! You can if you will. You can hide your burdens, instead of advertising them. To hide them, will help you to forget them. You have a place to put your burdens, "Casting all your care upon Him."
I still suffer; I still have periods of mental depression — but I have learned to be cheerful and not let these things be on exhibition. I find it now the easier, and by far the better, way.
Cheerfulness is a habit — get the habit. It depends upon your attitude — not upon your circumstances. You can rule your circumstances — instead of letting them rule you. Take hold of your bad feelings, and conquer them with cheerfulness. The task may not be easy at first, but keep at it and you will win. Do not despair if you lose a few battles. You may have cultivated gloom for so long a time, that it has become the fixed state of your mind. Overcome the habit. God will help you. When your feelings become gloomy, say, "I will not be so!" and force your mind into other channels. It will want to go back to its former habit, but as often as you catch yourself thinking along gloomy lines — turn your thoughts back to the sunshine. Put good cheer into your voice and a smile on your face — no matter how you feel. It will prove a tonic for soul, mind, and body. Listen to the redbird. Hear his merry "Cheer up, cheer up!" and act upon his advice. You will find it most helpful.
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by John Bunyan
When people have gone in a life of sin, and find that they have reason to fear the just judgment of God, they begin at first to wish there were no God to punish them. Then little by little they persuade themselves that there is no God, and look for arguments to back their opinion. I had the unhappiness to know someone like this, who would always be telling me there was neither God nor devil, and no heaven or hell.
It was with fear and trembling that I first heard him speak about these topics, but he spoke of them so often that I felt I must consider what he said. From this time I found my mind so confused that I could not remember the truths about God, which had appeared so clear to me before. I could not think there was no God—but with the greatest horror—yet I questioned the truth of His being. I would not have parted with my hope of heaven for all the riches of the world—yet now I was not sure whether there was any such place.
In my confusion I went to my false friend to see what comfort he could give me. He only laughed at my fears and pretended to pity my weakness. His talks only made me more confused, until life became a burden to me. It is impossible to tell you the agonies I felt, until I was pushed to the edge of desperation. I thought, "Why should I linger between despair and hope? Would it not be better to end my life and find out what is the truth?" So I decided to kill myself.
One morning I went out into a nearby woods, where I had planned to kill myself. But before I tried to use the knife, I heard a secret whisper say,
"Do not fall into everlasting misery to gratify the enemy of your soul.
The fatal stroke you are about to give yourself will seal your own damnation. For if there is a God, as surely as there is, how can you hope for mercy from Him if you willfully destroy yourself, who were made in His image?"
Where this secret whisper came from, I do not know, but I believe it came from God; for it came with so much power it made me throw away my knife, and it showed me the great evil of suicide. The horror of what I had almost done made me shake so much that I could hardly stand.
I recognized my deliverance to have come from the Lord, and in gratitude I returned thanks.
I knelt down on the ground and worshiped Him, asking that He would take away the blackness in my soul so that I would never again question His being or great power which I had just experienced.
 |
| "Why don't you kill yourself?" is what he says |
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Some years ago I heard an allegory which I have never forgotten. It often comes back to me when I think of the way in which the Lord leads His people.
(George Everard, "The Home of Bethany" 1873)
"He led them forth by the right way, that they might go to a city of habitation." Psalm 107:7
The fable runs that a few ears of wheat were growing in the corner of a field, and it was promised to this wheat that it would one day be brought before the Queen. But by-and-by the mower came with his sharp scythe and cut the wheat, and feeling the sharpness of the scythe, it said, "I shall never stand before the Queen!" Presently it was laid in the wagon, and pressed and borne down by the other sheaves, and again arose the cry of distress and despair. But, more than this, it was laid on the threshing-floor, and the heavy flail came down upon it. It was taken to the mill, and cut and cut and cut; then it was kneaded into bread; and at last it was placed in the hot burning oven. Again and again was heard the cry of utter, hopeless despair. But at length the promise was fulfilled, and the bread was placed on the Queen's table!
There is a great spiritual truth beneath the fable. Christians are God's wheat, sprung from the incorruptible seed of His Word, and from the precious seed of the crucified, buried body of our Lord — and He purposes that one day they shall stand before Him! But there needs much preparation.
There comes the sharp scythe of bereavement — the loss of child or parent or spouse.
There comes the oppressive burden of care.
There comes the severe tribulation (the very word signifies threshing), seasons of adversity and disappointment.
There comes the mill, the trial that utterly breaks us down, and fills the whole spirit with distress.
There comes the hot furnace of agonizing pain or fear.
All these are doing their appointed work, stirring up faith and prayer, humbling to the very dust — and yet lifting up the Christian, by leading him nearer to God, and enabling him at length to say, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted!"
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CHRIST AND THE CHRISTIAN TEMPTED TO SELF-DESTRUCTION.
(gracegems.org)
"Then the devil took Him up into the holy city, and set Him on a pinnacle of the temple, and said unto Him, If You be the Son of God, cast Thyself down; for it is written, He shall give His angels charge concerning You; and in their hands they shall bear You up, lest at any time You dash Thy foot against a stone. Jesus said unto him, It is written again, You shall not tempt the Lord thy God."-Matt. iv. 5-7.
This temptation to self-murder is common to God’s people; and in this we trace a striking identity of Christ’s temptation and the Christian’s; and so unseals another spring of sympathy flowing from the union of the Lord’s tempted ones with their tempted Lord Himself. "Cast thyself down-destroy thyself-ease you of thy pain of body-get rid of thy despondency of mind-thy spiritual doubts and fears-thy trouble, responsibility, and wants." Such is the temptation and such the reasoning by which many Christians are assailed.
The class of pious individuals to whom this temptation is presented is a large and a touching one. The suicidal propensities of a mind passing through a partial eclipse are often powerful and irresistible. Hundreds of God’s people thus tempted through physical suffering, mental despondency, and religious melancholy, are patent to all whose especial and benevolent mission calls them to minister to a mind diseased. The temptation by which our Lord was assailed is reproduced in the persons and experience of many of His saints-"Cast thyself down from hence." Shall we attempt a portrait of your case, my reader? It is, perhaps, physical. Disease has taken a strong hold upon your system; the body is tortured with suffering, the nerves quiver with agony-sleep is a stranger to your pillow-and, "Cast thyself down from hence," is the horrible impulse that haunts you. Or your case is mental. Trouble and anxiety, embarrassment and want, bow thy spirit to the dust-"Cast thyself down from hence," whispers the wily serpent in your ear. Or, your despondency is spiritual. Assailed by doubts and fears touching the state of your soul, you begin to question the reality of your conversion; and, thinking that your soul is lost, the tempter suggests an easy but a terrible solution of all your religious difficulties-"Cast thyself down from hence: He has given His angels charge over you."
But, my reader, listen to reason-listen to conscience-listen to God! "Do thyself no harm," is the tender, imploring voice of each. Christ the tempted One-assailed by this very tempter and by this very temptation, and who by the Word of God resisted and overcame-is all-sufficient in His love and power, grace and intercession for you; and looking to Him will assuredly give you the victory. "I have prayed for you that thy faith fail not," were the words addressed to one-and now equally addressed to you-whose grace, like yours, was sifted as wheat, and whose faith, like yours, was tried as by fire. "He that overcomes will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the Name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God: and I will write upon him my new Name." "Be you faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life." "Why art you cast down, O my soul? and why art you disquieted within you? Hope you in God, for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance and my God."
If, my reader, you are haunted by the dark temptation of self-destruction, sit down, and as a Christian calmly and dispassionately reason the matter with yourself. Mind and faith have not entirely abandoned you; and, with prayer for Divine help, summon these to your aid in battling with and resisting the temptation; and consider the grounds you have for closing your ear to the tempter’s voice, and resisting an insinuation so base, a crime so terrific.
Think, in the first place, what a sin the act would involve. Calmly and deliberately to fling away a life God has given you for your enjoyment and His glory-to cast it, as it were, in His face as a worthless thing-what language can describe the turpitude of guilt of such an act? Consider, too, the base ingratitude to your Maker the sin would express. You have often in the sanctuary, and with audible voice, "thanked God for your creation." Equally have you reason to thank Him for its preservation. Through how many dangers, seen and unseen, from infancy to manhood,-your life has been preserved, times without number redeemed from destruction the most eminent! And now, by a deliberate and willful violation of the law of self-preservation God has implanted in your nature, to take that life away, how base the ingratitude! how dark the crime! Reflect, too, how important and precious your life is to those whose very existence seems bound up in yours; and who, under God, depend upon your industry and toil, your influence and care, for their daily sustenance. Think of the conjugal, parental, or filial tie thus ruthlessly and painfully severed, and imagine, if you can, the terrible result! A still more powerful dissuasive grows out of the dishonor and check such an act would bring upon the religion of God-the name of Christ-the interests of the Gospel and the progress of the Christian Church. What a triumph of Satan-what a weapon for the infidel-what an argument for the ungodly! Think of the great things the Lord has done for you-the Lord that died for you on the cross, and that now intercedes for you before the throne. Resist then, oh resist, this dark temptation of the Evil One: implore strength from God-seek grace from the all-sufficiency of Christ-and invoke the aid, comfort, and power of the Holy Spirit. And at every whisper of the enemy-"Cast thyself down"-send up to God in Christ the fervent, believing, importunate prayer-"Keep back Thy servant from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me."
This temptation to self-murder is common to God’s people; and in this we trace a striking identity of Christ’s temptation and the Christian’s; and so unseals another spring of sympathy flowing from the union of the Lord’s tempted ones with their tempted Lord Himself. "Cast thyself down-destroy thyself-ease you of thy pain of body-get rid of thy despondency of mind-thy spiritual doubts and fears-thy trouble, responsibility, and wants." Such is the temptation and such the reasoning by which many Christians are assailed.
The class of pious individuals to whom this temptation is presented is a large and a touching one. The suicidal propensities of a mind passing through a partial eclipse are often powerful and irresistible. Hundreds of God’s people thus tempted through physical suffering, mental despondency, and religious melancholy, are patent to all whose especial and benevolent mission calls them to minister to a mind diseased. The temptation by which our Lord was assailed is reproduced in the persons and experience of many of His saints-"Cast thyself down from hence." Shall we attempt a portrait of your case, my reader? It is, perhaps, physical. Disease has taken a strong hold upon your system; the body is tortured with suffering, the nerves quiver with agony-sleep is a stranger to your pillow-and, "Cast thyself down from hence," is the horrible impulse that haunts you. Or your case is mental. Trouble and anxiety, embarrassment and want, bow thy spirit to the dust-"Cast thyself down from hence," whispers the wily serpent in your ear. Or, your despondency is spiritual. Assailed by doubts and fears touching the state of your soul, you begin to question the reality of your conversion; and, thinking that your soul is lost, the tempter suggests an easy but a terrible solution of all your religious difficulties-"Cast thyself down from hence: He has given His angels charge over you."
But, my reader, listen to reason-listen to conscience-listen to God! "Do thyself no harm," is the tender, imploring voice of each. Christ the tempted One-assailed by this very tempter and by this very temptation, and who by the Word of God resisted and overcame-is all-sufficient in His love and power, grace and intercession for you; and looking to Him will assuredly give you the victory. "I have prayed for you that thy faith fail not," were the words addressed to one-and now equally addressed to you-whose grace, like yours, was sifted as wheat, and whose faith, like yours, was tried as by fire. "He that overcomes will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the Name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which is new Jerusalem, which comes down from my God: and I will write upon him my new Name." "Be you faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life." "Why art you cast down, O my soul? and why art you disquieted within you? Hope you in God, for I shall yet praise Him, who is the health of my countenance and my God."
If, my reader, you are haunted by the dark temptation of self-destruction, sit down, and as a Christian calmly and dispassionately reason the matter with yourself. Mind and faith have not entirely abandoned you; and, with prayer for Divine help, summon these to your aid in battling with and resisting the temptation; and consider the grounds you have for closing your ear to the tempter’s voice, and resisting an insinuation so base, a crime so terrific.
Think, in the first place, what a sin the act would involve. Calmly and deliberately to fling away a life God has given you for your enjoyment and His glory-to cast it, as it were, in His face as a worthless thing-what language can describe the turpitude of guilt of such an act? Consider, too, the base ingratitude to your Maker the sin would express. You have often in the sanctuary, and with audible voice, "thanked God for your creation." Equally have you reason to thank Him for its preservation. Through how many dangers, seen and unseen, from infancy to manhood,-your life has been preserved, times without number redeemed from destruction the most eminent! And now, by a deliberate and willful violation of the law of self-preservation God has implanted in your nature, to take that life away, how base the ingratitude! how dark the crime! Reflect, too, how important and precious your life is to those whose very existence seems bound up in yours; and who, under God, depend upon your industry and toil, your influence and care, for their daily sustenance. Think of the conjugal, parental, or filial tie thus ruthlessly and painfully severed, and imagine, if you can, the terrible result! A still more powerful dissuasive grows out of the dishonor and check such an act would bring upon the religion of God-the name of Christ-the interests of the Gospel and the progress of the Christian Church. What a triumph of Satan-what a weapon for the infidel-what an argument for the ungodly! Think of the great things the Lord has done for you-the Lord that died for you on the cross, and that now intercedes for you before the throne. Resist then, oh resist, this dark temptation of the Evil One: implore strength from God-seek grace from the all-sufficiency of Christ-and invoke the aid, comfort, and power of the Holy Spirit. And at every whisper of the enemy-"Cast thyself down"-send up to God in Christ the fervent, believing, importunate prayer-"Keep back Thy servant from presumptuous sins; let them not have dominion over me."
