Evening, March 8
Go To Morning Reading
“She called his name Ben-oni (son of sorrow), but his father called
him Benjamin (son of my right hand).”
Genesis 35:18
To every matter there is a bright as well as a dark side. Rachel was
overwhelmed with the sorrow of her own travail and death; Jacob, though
weeping the mother’s loss, could see the mercy of the child’s birth. It is well for us if, while the flesh mourns over trials,
our faith triumphs in divine faithfulness. Samson’s lion yielded honey, and so will our adversities, if rightly considered.
The stormy sea feeds multitudes with its fishes; the wild wood blooms
with beauteous flowerets; the stormy wind sweeps away the pestilence,
and the biting frost loosens the soil. Dark clouds distil bright drops,
and black earth grows gay flowers. A vein of good is to be found in
every mine of evil. Sad hearts have peculiar skill in discovering
the most disadvantageous point of view from which to gaze upon a trial;
if there were only one slough in the world, they would soon be up
to their necks in it, and if there were only one lion in the desert
they would hear it roar. About us all there is a tinge of this wretched
folly, and we are apt, at times, like Jacob, to cry, “All these things are against me.” Faith’s way of walking is to cast all care upon the Lord, and then to anticipate
good results from the worst calamities. Like Gideon’s men, she does not fret over the broken pitcher, but rejoices that
the lamp blazes forth the more. Out of the rough oyster-shell of difficulty
she extracts the rare pearl of honour, and from the deep ocean-caves
of distress she uplifts the priceless coral of experience. When her
flood of prosperity ebbs, she finds treasures hid in the sands; and
when her sun of delight goes down, she turns her telescope of hope
to the starry promises of heaven. When death itself appears, faith
points to the light of resurrection beyond the grave, thus making
our dying Ben-oni to be our living Benjamin.