Morning Ended The days of your
morning shall be ended. Isaiah 60 verse 20 The believer
has mourning days. The place of his sojourn is a
valley of tears. Adam went weeping from his paradise. We go weeping on the way to ours. But pilgrim of grief, your tears
are numbered, A few more aching sighs, a few more gloomy clouds,
And the Eternal Sun shall burst on you, Whose radiance shall
nevermore be obscured. Life may be to you one long valley
of Baca, a protracted scene of weeping, but soon shall you hear
the sweet chimes wafted from the towers of the new Jerusalem. Enter into the joy of your Lord. The Lord God shall wipe away
all tears from off all faces. the days of your mourning. It
is a consoling thought that all these days are appointed, meted
out, numbered. Unto you it is given, says the
Apostle, to suffer. Yes, and if you are a child of
the Covenant, your mourning days are days of special privilege,
intended to be fraught with blessing. To the unbeliever they are pledges
of everlasting woe, to the believer they are preludes and precursors
of eternal glory. Affliction, to the one, is the
cloud without the rainbow, to the other it is the cloud radiant
and lustrous with gospel promise and gospel hope. Listener, are
you now one of the many members of the family of sorrow? Be comforted. Soon the long night-watch will
be over. Pain, sickness, weakness, weariness,
soon the windows of the soul will no more be darkened. Soon
you shall have nothing to be delivered from. Your present
losses and crosses will turn into eternal gains. The dews
of the night weeping, Nature's teardrops, will come to sparkle
like beautiful gems in the morning of immortality. Soon the Master's
footsteps will be heard, saying, The days of your mourning are
ended, and you shall take off your sackcloth and be girded
with gladness. Up to that moment your life may
have been one long day of mourning, but once past the golden portals
and the eye can be dim no more, the very fountain of weeping
will be dried. The period of your mourning is
counted by days, of your eternal rejoicing by eras and cycles. Why are you then cast down, O
my soul? and why are you disquieted within
me? Hope in God! I will gaze through
my tears on this celestial rainbow, and sing this song of the night,
which God, who is to wipe my tears away, has put into my lips. And there shall be no more death,
neither sorrow nor crying. Neither shall there be any more
pain, For the former things are passed away.