The Prophetic Telegraph - No.99
June 1997
"Just a wearyin' for you"
I knew her when I was still
young in the faith, in the early 1950s, and she was then in the autumn of her
life. She was quiet, relaxed, serene, of deep understanding, and rich wisdom. I
felt drawn towards her as one who might impart something to me, I hardly knew
what, but in my spirit I sensed I needed to dwell in her presence a while.
Looking back now over the last 45 years, I have greater perspective clarify
than I possessed in my "salad days". My renewed spirit was yearning
for the Person of the Lord Jesus, the One she had by her side, invisible but
real, untouchable but bristling with adventure, romance and life. I know that now,
and am glad to recall the memories of those summer days when I stayed in her
Guest House in Southbourne, near
"Come in my
dear,"
she would say as I lifted my suitcase over the threshold. I saw a glint in her
eye, and knew that she could see deep inside me, know my longings better than I
knew myself, and know why I had come, ostensibly at the request of a mutual
friend, but to her it was the Master bringing one of His young ones to her home
for a treat.
"I've put you
up in GLORY," she said with an almost inaudible chuckle. "I knew you
wouldn't mind climbing the two flights. Your young legs can manage that."
I went up two-at-a-time to prove her point, and walked past GRACE,
LOVE, and KINDNESS, on the first landing before
ascending the second flight to the attic room with GLORY on
the door. It was not without meaning either. She knew that in the week I was to
spend in her home I needed to find something of the Glory of the Lord. But I
had my own agenda, which was far more academic, searching in books,
lexicons, old volumes which I knew she possessed, and yet at the same time
fully aware of the strange something about this aged saint's life.
Mary Masson always had
interesting people to stay, and her dining table was usually laid out for about
twelve. Such well-known figures as F.B.Meyer would engrace that table,
providing a quiet interchange of spiritual jewels, whilst others listened
entranced. Nothing was ever done in a hurry. No one raced about. The spirit of
rest was like a continual Sabbath. In her middle years "Mummy"
Masson, (as everyone called her) was married to Henry Masson, who ran Slavanka,
the Christian Conference Centre in Southbourne. But when I knew her she had
been widowed a number of years. She was unable to cater for her guests by
herself, but had Laura and Linda, two winsome Christian ladies to help. She
spent most of her time talking to the Lord, and reaching out quietly to the
needs of those the Lord sent.
I shall never forget that
week. The sun was out most of the time, so I would sit in the garden and read
my Bible with other helpful books by my side, or rest on the bed after lunch,
to listen to the brass band playing a short way off in Fisherman's Walk, and
then sit attentively over supper to drink in the wisdom of spiritual
conversation from other guests. All these things remain like blissful memories,
but one remains above all others. During the day "Mummy" would find
me somewhere, wherever I was, and I knew instinctively it was for a God-given
purpose. She never seemed to do anything apart from the leading of the Lord.
(Why can't I be like that, I used to think.) I would stop whatever I was doing
and wait to hear what she had to say.
"Are you up in glory, Arthur?"
"Yes," I would answer, whilst those beady
eyes watched me like a hawk, and while she just nodded her old head, and her
face showed that amazing intuitive knowledge of my needs.
"Then you must keep your feet on the
ground. Learn to walk with Him down here, my dear."
At such times she would say
little more, but always leave me with something to ponder for the rest of the
day. In retrospect, I am still pondering it now. She would amble off to find
someone else, and I would find the aroma of a "presence" left with
me. Now I know what it was, WHO it was, but at that stage in my life
it was just a fragrance that would remain.
Why am I writing these
things? Have you ever known someone like Mary Masson? Someone whom you remember
more because of the Lord Jesus in them and with them than for themselves?
Someone who sheds that sweet savour of His presence wherever they go? Mary
Masson had suffered a lot in her life, but it's only effect was to draw her
closer to the Lord she loved, in a manner I have seen in few other saints of
God.
I saw her again some years
later. By then the Guest House had been sold, and she was very old and infirm.
Once again, it was summer, and the sun shone warmly at Southbourne. I commented
on the beauty of the sea. She looked at me with that same twinkle in her eye.
"I remember telling the Lord the same
thing some years ago. He put a portion of a verse into my mind, 'This is not
your rest, it is polluted.' Like Abraham, I'm looking for another country and
the joy of seeing the Lord's face."
She couldn't entertain me
for more than about fifteen minutes before dragging her aged body upstairs for
a rest. I was still waiting in the hallway with Laura. I watched as she climbed
and I heard her say in a cracked but clear voice,
"How long 0 Lord is Thy chariot in
coming?"
As she said it she was
looking up, as though to see the Lord before her face. Nothing else mattered,
neither home nor material things, nor the world and its people, just the Lord
Himself. She was entirely wrapped up in Him. Shortly after this I was to learn
that her "chariot" had come. It left no sadness in me, nothing but
the lasting freshness of Divine Life and the beauty of Jesus. I knew she had
found her everlasting rest. I also knew that I was not ready for it myself. I
didn't carry around with me that same serenity of spirit, that same evidence of
"walking with the Lord" that she possessed.
Much water has flowed under
the bridge of time since then. Life has been turbulent, uncertain,
unpredictable, but throughout the last 32 years of married life something of
that serenity has been gradually granted to us both. Like Mary Masson we have
had our eras of calm followed by times of suffering, with both of us having
been through the ravages of a nervous breakdown, my wife's being more severe
than mine. Loss of jobs as a result of faithfulness to the Lord Jesus has
catapulted us into foreign parts whilst raising a family of four children, to
places where climatic conditions have played havoc with our health. And yet we
are still alive, and have a grown-up family bringing us much joy. And they are now
beginning to go through the birth pangs we have experienced.
What do I mean by these
'birth pangs'? Just one thing - to know, to recognise, to respond to, and to
deeply love the Lord Jesus for Himself, above everything else and everybody
else in the world, to have so to speak, the Lord's own image progressively born
within us. Death no longer has any sway with us, any more than it did with Mary
Masson. Like her we are daily waiting for His "chariot" to come, but
always with the hope of being "changed" before death comes. But we
are aware that many are still finding the day of His return too awesome to
handle. Let me quote A.W.Tozer here, because he had a way of putting things
that few have been able to improve upon.
The longing to
see Christ that burned in the breasts of those first Christians seems to have
burned itself out. All we have left are the ashes. It is precisely the
'yearning' and the 'fainting' for the return of Christ that has distinguished
the personal hope from the theological one. Mere acquaintance with correct
doctrine is a poor substitute for Christ, and familiarity with New Testament
eschatology will never take the place of a love-inflamed desire to look on His
face.
If the tender
yearning is gone from the advent hope today, there must be reasons for it. One
is simply that popular fundamentalist theology has emphasised the UTILITY of
the cross rather than the BEAUTY of the One who died on it.
The saved
man's relation to Christ has been made CONTRACTUAL rather than PERSONAL.
The WORK of Christ
has been stressed until it has eclipsed the PERSON of Christ.
SUBSTITUTION
has been allowed to supersede IDENTIFICATION.
What He DID
for me seems to be more important than what He IS to me.
Redemption is
seen as an across-the-counter transaction which we 'accept', and the whole
thing lacks emotional content. We must love someone very much to stay awake and
long for his coming, and that may explain the absence of power in the advent
hope even among those who still believe in it.
History
reveals that times of suffering for the Church have also been times of looking
upward. Tribulation has always sobered God's people and encouraged them to look
for and yearn after the return of their Lord. Our present preoccupation with
this world may be a warning of bitter days to come. God will wean us from the
earth some way - the easy way if possible, the hard way if necessary. It is up
to us.
The life of King David is
vividly portrayed in the Old Testament. All his warts and bumps are shown in
dramatic relief as well as his more 'acceptable' religious aspirations. But
through all that he suffered, he found a growing love for his Lord, and the
Psalms he wrote are a rich heritage for us all as we pass through the
shadow lands of this life.
"One
thing I have desired of the Lord, that I will seek after; that I may dwell in
the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the
Lord, and to contemplate in His
"For a
day in Thy courts is better than a thousand [elsewhere]. I had rather be a
doorkeeper in the house of my God than to dwell in the tents of
wickedness." (Psalm 84:10)
And the words of Moses in
Psalm 90:16-17 -
"Let
Thy work appear unto Thy servants, and Thy glory upon their children, and let
the beauty of the Lord our God be upon us."
And Jeremiah (
"Thus
says the Lord, Let not the wise man glory in his wisdom, neither let the mighty
man glory in his might, let not the rich man glory in his riches, but let him
who glories glory in this, that he understands and knows me, that I am the Lord
who exercises lovingkindness, judgment and righteousness in the earth, for in
these things I delight, says the Lord."
The Apostle Paul referred
to "all those who LOVE HIS APPEARING." (2
Timothy 4:8) It is heart-searching indeed to read such words, and ask whether
we truly long to see the Lord, to know that HE has cast our sins away as far as
the east is from the west and to remember them no more, who loves us with an
everlasting love, whose compassions fail not, but are new every morning, who
cares for us far more than many sparrows, and who desires for us to sit with
Him in His Kingdom, to recline at table with His Ancients, and to enjoy His
presence and company. Are these our longings, or do we still harbour a fear of
His majesty, His glory, His greatness, His judgments, and His wrath? Even
though John the Apostle declared "perfect love casts out [all
such] fear"?
Many of our hymn writers
have, over the centuries, shown us the way into the holy places, where we can
learn the sweetness, the gentleness, the 'love that will not let me go' of
the Lord. To thumb through the sections of some of our hymn books is to share
many precious experiences of those who have gone on before, those who have
waited for their chariots to come. A while back I was pleased to find the music
of an old song written by Frank Stanton, one that was popular with our black
brothers and sisters in earlier days. I have quoted it as the title of this
P.T. "Just a wearyin' for you." As an expression of
human love, it carries with it the yearning of the human heart, betraying a
sweetness and beauty that exactly fits the sentiments referred to above about
the Lord.
Just a wearyin' for you,
All the time a-feelin' blue,
Wishin' for you, wond'rin' when you'll be comin' home again,
Restless, don't know what to do,
Just a wearyin' for you.
Mornin' comes, the birds awake,
Used to sing so for your sake,
But there's sadness in the notes, that come trillin' from their
throats,
Seem to feel your absence, too,
Just a wearyin' for you.
Evenin' comes, I miss you more,
When the dark glooms round the door,
Seems just like you oughter be, there to open it for me.
Latch goes tinklin', thrills me through,
Sets me wearyin' for you.
But then I found in "Streams
in the Desert" that someone had written new words to this song.
They use the same sentiment, but apply it to the Lord. -
Just a wearying for You,
Jesus, Lord, Beloved and True,
Wishing for You, wond'ring when You'll be coming back again,
Under all I say or do,
Just a wearying for You.
Some glad day, all watching past,
You will come for me at last,
Then I'll see You, hear Your voice, Be with You, with You rejoice,
How the sweet hope thrills me through,
Sets me wearying for You.
It remains for me to ask, are you wearying for Jesus' return? Does the
sweetness of the Lord fill your soul with a hunger, a thirst for being with
Him, to "see His lovely face, some bright golden morning, when the
clouds have rifted, and the shades have flown"? Does the wonder
of His very being fill your soul, and transcend every earthly desire?
"Even so, come Lord Jesus"