Thoughtful Moments

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 7, Issue 34, 17 December 1943, Page 2

Thoughtful Moments

(Supplied by the Wliakatn

THE INNERMOST ROOM

I have been driven many times to my knees by the overwhelming conviction that 1; had nowhere else to go-—Abraham Lincoln. The telephone rang: "Bad news from Egypt," the message said. It was very bad. One of the finest young men in our Church, killed in action. With the thought of brokenhearted parents just round the corner, how could one Avrite ? How find anything that would be worth copying ? Thinking of his splendid manhood, lines that I had come across years ago came to my mind, bringing some measure of comfort. "I cannot say,, and 11 will not say, That he is dead! He is just away! With a cheery smile and a wave of the hand, He has wandered into an unknown land, And left us dreaming how very fair It must be, since he. lingers there. And you (oh! you who the wildest yearn For the old-time .step, and the glad return) Think of him faring on, as dear, In the love of there, as the love of here! Mild and gentle as he was brave. When the. sweetest love of his life he. gave To simple things, where the violets grew, Pure as the eyes they were likened tO.! The touches of his hands have strayed,, As reverently as his lips have prayed, Think of him still as the. same, I say : He is not dead, he; is just away. It was Fay Unchfawn who provided a message that appealed, as being worth while passing on. In her book "The House of Life," she saj's something about the Innermost Room. This sentence arrested my wandering thoughts. And then,, something happens, which changes the face of affairs. . . . Soul-stirring circumstances suddenly lie athwart our quiet days; and in our need we discover the existence of the Innermost

Room. Yes, that's it. Soul-stirring circumstances suddenly lie athwart our quvet days ... I read on, "This room is a sanctuary for the soul to receive consolation and strength. In times of overwhelming bewilderment we realise that the "general" atmosphere of the Ho!y Presence, is not enough. We want (if I may put it) a Particular Atmosphere; Ave want the solace of an interview as personal and as real as though our

Nt Ministers' Association).

OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE

eyes could see and our hands could handle the Person of the Blessed One.

No other intercourse can meet the case. ''My soul," sakl the poet-sing-er, "thirsteth for God." That longing desire can only be satisfied by the consolations of the Innermost Room, and gladly and willingly doesthe soul hasten to be there. Iln ordinary times this hastening is not so easy. Though it is true that any spot on earth may become a sanctaary, and any moment of our lives may be a holy crisis of praise or prayer, most of us are conscious of a spiritual apathy, a sluggish disinclination to bestir ourselves. A tendency to be. content with slight, and almost impersonal contacts with the Lover of our Souls. To rise up and enter the innermost Room means shaking off dull sloth, and bracing one's spiritual muscles to meet the demands and urges of that rare atmosphere. If wc only put our inmost longings into words they Would make very human and real cries. So different from the borrowed phrases of stilted piety which we sometimes think we ought to use. O Lord I am feeling so cross, may be more truly a prayer than any beautiful-ly-worded petition could be if repeated without fervour. For that honest, confession is an acknowledgment of disorder in the house. In the Innermost Room, with the door .sliut„ power is given . . . and received . . . Thus 1 are wc put in remembrance of our high calling. We arc so apt to forget it. So liable to be diverted from it by our devotion to spotless saucepans and stainless teacloths. But the very air of the Innermost Room restores our balance, and our perspective. We must be particular about the kitchen premises, but our training in dealing Avitli emergencies: there is only a means of making us capable of knowing how to help in situations more stressful and intricate.

Ii am thinking now of those sorrowful tragedies which sometimes shatter the heart strings of God's children . . . Death . . . has overtaken one who was so needed here . . . We are appalled. We long to be of use . . . .yet we feel helpless . I am learning very slowly, as life goes on, that the soul is being trained for such emergencies by its faithful and frequent tarrying in the Innermost Room. For there, in that quiet place the very energy and power of God enters into the soul. This iss ..what is meant bj r abiding in Him, and He in us. Then, the poor little letter of sympathy, not very well worded, has power in in which scholarly sentences could not have conveyed . . . Surely our jangled and easily irri-> tated nerves would be less battered if we would but teach our thoughts to retire to that quiet. Room."