March 30

A wife who deeply loves her husband aches for him when he's gone. A long separation feels like a kind of death to her soul. And so it is with those who truly love their Savior—they must see his face! They cannot bear for him to be distant, to be away on far mountains, no longer holding sweet communion with them.

A single reproachful glance, a raised finger of correction—these pierce the hearts of loving children who fear to offend their tender father. They are only truly happy in his smile.

Beloved, there was a time when you were like this. One convicting text of Scripture, one threatening, one touch of affliction's rod, and you would run to your Father's feet crying, "Show me why you contend with me!"

Is it still that way? Are you content to follow Jesus afar off? Can you contemplate suspended communion with Christ without alarm? Can you bear to have your Beloved walking contrary to you because you walk contrary to him? Have your sins separated you from your God, and is your heart at rest? O let me affectionately warn you—it is a grievous thing when we can live contentedly without the present enjoyment of our Savior's face!

We must labor to feel what an evil thing this is—little love to our dying Savior, little joy in our precious Jesus, little fellowship with the Beloved! Hold a true Lent in your souls while you sorrow over your hardness of heart.

But do not stop at sorrow! Remember where you first received salvation. Go at once to the cross. There, and there only, can you get your spirit quickened. No matter how hard, how insensible, how dead we may have become, let us go again in all the rags and poverty and defilement of our natural condition. Let us clasp that cross, let us look into those languid eyes, let us bathe in that fountain filled with blood—this will bring back to us our first love; this will restore the simplicity of our faith and the tenderness of our heart.