True Comfort Comes From GOD Alone.

THE First Break In The Family
George Mylne, 1871

A break in the family! 

Did I say the first? Yes; 

for there are families where 

death, as yet, has never entered--

no breach has occurred in the fair 

circle of domestic happiness--

children and parents, parents 

and children, in full enjoyment 

of each other's company. 

How gladsome thus to see it! 

We feel inclined to say, 

"Enjoy it while you have it, 

and quaff the cup of family 

endearment with meekness and 

a thankful heart, remembering 

from whence the mercy comes--

that the GIVER be not 

forgotten in HIS gifts.

It is sweet to see a family unbroken.
But, watch it long enough, and
a break is sure to come At last--
sooner or later must their domestic
sky be overcast. Sickness may
enter (if not some fatal accident),
sickness not curable--
but unto death.

Oh, what a chill follows--
what dread forebodings
when the worst is feared, and
apprehensions prove too true--
when that once happy circle
has been found no longer
armored against the inroads
of the last enemy! 

Then desolation reigns--
where all before was gladness:
the darkened rooms,
the silent step, as though
the softest footfall might
disturb the slumbering dead,
the muffled voice,
the utterance choked with tears,
the look of anguish,
the chastened deportment
of deep yet noiseless sorrow,
directions given, needful, yet
harrowing to the soul, activity
that goes against the grain,
costing unutterable pains.

Oh, who can paint the change
where all appears disjointed,
turned from its former course of
unclouded and serene happiness!

The little ones scarcely realize
the fact, the infant mind not
understanding the sad reality.

Yet, from . . .
the tears,
the mournful preparations,
the putting on of dark apparel,
and the funeral procession--
they gather glimpses of
the truth; and in their romps
(how hard to be restrained!)
they move about as half ashamed.

In the youthful members
of the family, advanced a stage
in the ability to understand--
how subdued the light that
shines upon them, like the
lurid beams of an eclipse.

They sadly feel their loss, and
struggle with sorrowful restraint!

How touchingly Cowper describes
his feelings, as a child, on the occasion
of his mother's death!

"I heard the bell toll'd on your burial day;
I saw the hearse that bore you slow away--
And, turning from my nursery-window, drew
A long, long sigh, and wept a last adieu."

But with the older ones of
the family, how different!

Their sorrow is realized
in all its fullness--
present is compared with past--
weighed in the balances of
serious and mature thought.

Outbreaks of sorrow are curiously
met with arguments for resignation--
a truthful picture of unvarnished woe.

Reader, is it thus with you?
Are you one of a family newly
broken? Full well I know your
feelings, the shock experienced
in your inmost soul.

What deep emotions are
occasioned by that empty chair!

How eloquent the death-like stillness
of that now untenanted chamber!

That congenial voice no more
will greet your ear. That once
familiar face no more be seen.

When the family meets
together in the morning--
what a blank pervades all!

When at night you separate,
one well-known "good-night"
is listened for in vain!

Oh, what a desolator is Death!

The fairest form, the sweetest
disposition, the finest mind,
the most useful character--
is often the first to go--
the choicest treasure of
your garden nipped in
the bud of fond enjoyment.

"One flower may fill another's place,
With breath as sweet, with hues as glowing;
One ripple in you ocean's space,
Be lost amid another's flowing.

One star in you bright azure dome
Might vanish from its sparkling cluster,
Unmiss'd, unmourn'd, and in its room
Some rival orb eclipse its luster.

But who shall fill a brother's room?
Or who shall soothe the bosom's grieving?
Who heal the heart, around his tomb
Too faithfully, too fondly cleaving?"
 — Bonar

Poor mourner,
do you ask for consolation?
Gladly would I give it,
If you are able to receive
the only consolation I can offer.
I might listen for hours to
your tale of grief--
telling the virtues of
the dead, opening afresh
the sorrows of your soul.

I might attend you to all the haunts
of the deceased, bend over the relics
that you love to show, go with you
to the grave, and there weep with
you sob for sob, and tear for tear.

But say, would that alone suffice
to comfort you? It would help
to nurse your sorrow--
and give a fresh impulse
to your morbid strain;
it might tie you down
more strongly to earth's
regrets and unavailing
musings. But would it
indeed console you?

Would it turn your bitterness
to sweetness? Would it give you

"the oil of joy-- 
for mourning, 
the garment of praise-- 
for the spirit of heaviness?" 
(Isaiah 61:3.)

Oh no I my friend, oh no!

Elsewhere must you seek it.
Do you ask me where?

Where, but in GOD?

Where, but in JESUS?

Where, but in The HOLY
SPIRIT, the Comforter?

Fond recollections of the dead are
not forbidden you. It is allowed
to trace the haunts and love
the relics of their earlier days,
in fond association with their
memory. But then, do you take
JESUS with you in your musings?

As much as you loved your friend--
do you love JESUS better still?
And, as you gaze on fond
mementoes, is it with the
reserve of grace, lifting
your heart all the while,
as though to say,

"LORD, let not this keep
my heart from YOU!

Through YOU I wish
to see them all!

LORD, sanctify my recollections--
may I indulge them in deference to YOU!"

But now permit me, reader,
to ask a question. Do not think
me rude. Do not think it out
of place. It underlies the matter
both of your duty and your
consolation. I ask you then,
Do you feel yourself to be a sinner?

And why this question?
Because nothing else will bring
you to the Cross of JESUS.

You say, "How will that
comfort me?" Simply
because true comfort comes
from GOD alone; and nothing
can be received from GOD,
except through the Cross and
HIM who hung thereon.

No GOD — No Comfort.

No CHRIST — No GOD.

No Sense of Sin — No CHRIST.

No CHRIST — No Savior. No CHRIST --
No HOLY SPIRIT The Comforter.

No Comforter — No true Friend.

Do you doubt me? Then speak about
it to GOD HIMSELF. Tell HIM
your sorrow. Tell HIM that you
sigh for consolation. Ask HIM
to put you in the way of finding it.

Take with you words (Hosea 14:2).
Speak to HIM as a little child.

Confess your sins.

Entreat HIS Pardon,
through the Blood Of CHRIST.

Pray for the teaching of the SPIRIT.

Commit your cause to GOD
fully and unreservedly, prepared
to follow HIS leadings fully. And
if you feel your heart melting,
and thoughts arising in you of GOD
and CHRIST, of Sin and Pardon,
of Penitence and Prayer --
then give yourself to the meditation.

It is as though HE said,

"Seek MY face!"

And may your heart say
unto HIM,

 "YOUR face, LORD, 
will I seek" (Psalm 27:8).

Who knows but that this day
of your bereavement, may be
the day of saving grace--
the dawning of CHRIST in your
heart; the day of true consolation!