A Great Man and a Simple Dwelling

I received a wonderful phone call last night. My grandmother called to wish us a happy anniversary. As she questioned how we were doing I began to hear some trouble in her voice and understandably so. My grandmother is a widow who is considering moving out of the house that our grandfather built with his own labor and sweat. They had lived there most of their 60-plus years of marriage. So many good things are wrapped up in the context of this home. God has flooded our family with blessings and so many of these blessings are attached to the setting of this home.



As I spoke with my grandmother I could feel her emotional strain in potentially being done with this house in which our family carries so many memories. I also began feeling the despair of saying 'goodbye' to God's good gifts of memories that are attached to a great man and his simple home.

But suddenly light was shed on the subject when God reminded us that these good gifts are a kind picture of the ultimate good Man and the dwelling that he has secured for us with his own labor, the shedding of his blood. It is not easy to let go of God's good gifts unless we trust that every good here is a foreshadow of the greater good that we will find when are face to face with him. Our dwelling with him will never pass. And there, constant attention will be given to thee great Man. For he has purchased up a family and secured a dwelling wherein our attention will be brought again and again, without a tinge monotony, to glories of our worthy Savior. With him there will be an eternity of glorious memories.

So what should we do until then? Anne Steele (1716-1778), in Dear Refuge of My Weary Soul provides some insight.

1. Dear refuge of my weary soul,
On Thee, when sorrows rise
On Thee, when waves of trouble roll,
My fainting hope relies
To Thee I tell each rising grief,
For Thou alone canst heal
Thy Word can bring a sweet relief,
For every pain I feel

2. But oh! When gloomy doubts prevail,
I fear to call Thee mine
The springs of comfort seem to fail,
And all my hopes decline
Yet gracious God, where shall I flee?
Thou art my only trust
And still my soul would cleave to Thee
Though prostrate in the dust

3. Hast Thou not bid me seek Thy face,
And shall I seek in vain?
And can the ear of sovereign grace,
Be deaf when I complain?
No still the ear of sovereign grace,
Attends the mourner’s prayer
Oh may I ever find access,
To breathe my sorrows there

4. Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet,
Thy mercy seat is open still,
Here let my soul retreat
With humble hope attend Thy will,
And wait beneath Thy feet