"And the inhabitant shall not say, I am sick: the people that dwell
therein shall be forgiven their iniquity." - Isaiah 33:24
What is this? What happy climate is there where any of its inhabitants
are exempt from sickness? Where is that salubrious air, that is not
impregnated with disease? Surely, nowhere but in heaven. But if the
cause of sickness be removed; if the envenomed dart of sin be taken
out, and hath lost its poison, the inhabitant no longer complains, for
both the evil and the pain are gone. My soul, hast thou found this
happy spot? Hath Jesus manifested such views of his pardoning grace in
the all-sufficiency of his blood and righteousness, that thou not only
art fully convinced and satisfied that his blood cleanseth from all
sin; but that thou as fully believest and resteth in it for thy
salvation; and art of the happy number of those who believe to the
salvation of the soul. Hath Jesus said to thee, as to the poor man in
the gospel, "Son, be of good cheer, thy sins be forgiven thee?" Surely,
then, thou art the inhabitant the prophet pointed at, and art no
longer, sick, but dwelling in the faith, and forgiven thine iniquity.
Blessed Physician! I am no longer sick of that dreadful sickness which
is unto death, in an unrenewed, unpardoned, unregenerated state. But I
am sick indeed, and fainting for the fresh manifestations of thy grace.
I am languishing, thou dearest Lord, for the renewed visits of thy
love, the enjoyment of thy person, the larger, fuller, more constant
discoveries of thyself and thy glory. When wilt thou come unto me? When
will the day of everlasting light break in upon my soul? When shall I
behold thee among the inhabitants of the upper, brighter world? Oh ye
spirits of just men made perfect; ye who now dwell forever under the
perpetual smiles of Jesus's face; ye who once knew what it was to live
in the unceasing desire of his renewed visits, and how precious all his love tokens are - tell him what
longings my soul now hath, and what faintings I feel for his
manifestation. Tell him, I charge you, Oh ye daughters of the new
Jerusalem, ye that everlastingly behold my beloved, tell him that I am
sick of love.
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