NOT FORSAKEN.
_"For this shall every one that is godly pray unto Thee in a time when
Thou mayest be found: surely in the floods of great waters they shall
not come nigh unto him."_—Psalm xxxii. 6.
DAVID was still thankfully partaking of the root called Markrohae, when
his attention was arrested by the appearance, on the sandy horizon,
of a four-footed creature approaching towards him at full speed. He
soon distinguished that it was a Springbok, a kind of antelope of the
desert, moving rapidly forward in bounds such as perhaps no other
quadruped can make. It was coming straight in his direction, and David
crouched down low, grasping his spear, and hiding himself as well as
he could behind the scraggy bushes. He was surprised to see a solitary
individual of a species that generally travels in herds, and still more
so that a creature so timid and shy should not have perceived him, so
imperfectly concealed as he was, and have started off in some other
direction.
The cause for this was soon evident, as David perceived that three wild
dogs were in hot pursuit of the Springbok, which they had probably
singled out from a herd. The chase must have been a long and severe
one, for the antelope was now slackening its speed, and the terrified
creature was too much alarmed by the close pursuit behind to take
notice of danger in front. Before it could reach the bushes, the
foremost dog had pulled it down, and in a few seconds the other two
were on their already lifeless prey.
[Illustration: The chase must have been a long and severe one,
for the antelope was now slackening its speed.]
Now was the moment for David! With steady aim, he sent his light spear
whirling through the air and right amongst the ravenous wolf-like
creatures that had just run down their quarry. It glanced from the
shoulder of one of the dogs, which uttered a yell of pain. David sprang
to his foot, threw up his arms, and shouted!
Whether it was his sudden appearance, or the sound of a human voice,
which is said to have such strange power over the beasts of which man
was made the lord, it is not needful to decide. The savage creatures
did not await the approach of the unarmed youth, but a second shout
sent them galloping off with such speed as their already half-exhausted
strength would allow, flying from the face of man, and leaving their
prey behind them.
"This is indeed wonderful!" murmured David, as he painfully made his
way to the spot where the dead antelope lay. "God has made the very
beasts of prey provide me food in the desert! 'Thou preparest a table
before me.' That is from the twenty-third Psalm. I can no longer say
that it is not a Psalm for me. 'Yea, though I walk through the valley
of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me.' I
will no longer think myself alone. Even after all my guilty wanderings,
God has not forsaken me. I will trust Him in life and in death, 'for
His mercy endureth for ever.'"
Taking the spear again as his staff, David, with considerable
difficulty, dragged the body of the dead Springbok to the small thicket
which he had just quitted. He had learned from the Bushmen their way of
procuring fire without match, flint, or steel, and now his knowledge
stood him in good stead. He first gathered together some leaves, which
the fierce sun had made almost as dry as tinder; next he cut two sticks
with his knife, making a small notch in the first, and sharpening the
point of the second; he then put this point into the notch, and twirled
the second stick round between the palms of his hands so rapidly, as to
produce sufficient heat to set fire to the little dry heap. He threw on
this some withered twigs, and soon a thin cloud of blue smoke curled up
in the clear desert air.
David's cooking of a portion of his antelope was of a very rough
description, but he sat down to his hastily prepared meal with a very
thankful heart. He had always been accustomed at Greenside Farm to hear
his father say a grace before dinner, but since leaving England, David
had never himself thought of returning thanks to God for his food,
until he partook of this meal which Providence had spread for him in
the desert. It was no mere cold form now when David Aspinall uttered
the words,—
"For these, and 'all' His mercies, the Lord's name be praised!"
David was not only refreshed and strengthened by the food, but he was
cheered by the thought that for one night at least he might be able to
keep off attacks from wild beasts by lighting a fire. His supply of
fuel was indeed very scanty, but then he would use it sparingly. He
had not sufficient wood for the morrow, but "why take thought for the
morrow?" The God who has amply supplied the need of to-day, would not
desert him then.
David found occupation in gathering together materials for his
night-fire, and then made up for his short broken rest by a refreshing
afternoon sleep.
When the youth awoke, he again partook of food, and relieved his thirst
by finishing what he had left of the melon in the morning. Then,
reclining on the sand by the heap of dried sticks and leaves which
he would light after sunset, David gave himself up to holy thoughts,
repeating to himself the thirty-second Psalm, and dwelling upon its
meaning verse by verse.
"'For this shall every one that is godly pray unto Thee.'"
David paused that he might try better to understand this passage of
Scripture.
"As this Psalm tells of mercy to him 'whose transgression is forgiven,
whose sin is covered,' I should have thought that the word would rather
have been, 'For this shall every one that is "ungodly" pray unto Thee.'
It is only they who want the mercy. But who are the godly, who are the
righteous mentioned so often in the Bible? Do we not read in another
part,—
"'There is none that doeth good, no, not one'?
"Did not our Saviour Himself say,—
"'There is none good but one, that is God'?
"What is meant, then, by godly, and why should the godly pray because
God has mercy on sinners?"
This was a difficult question, and David could not for a long time
think of a satisfactory reply. Would not St. Peter be counted "godly?"
And yet St. Peter three times denied his Lord. Surely St. Paul was
"righteous," yet he had been a persecutor and blasphemer. At length the
truth seemed to dawn upon David as the words recurred to his mind,—
"'In the Lord have I righteousness and strength.'"
Surely the "godly" in the sixth verse of the Psalm must be the very
same as the "blessed one" mentioned in the first, whose "transgression
is forgiven, whose sin is covered," who is counted righteous before
God, because through faith, he is made a partaker of the spotless
righteousness of Christ. It is to such that it is said in the Psalm,
"The Lord imputed not iniquity." Yes, the "godly" is not, cannot be the
man who has committed "no" sin, for in that case there would be none
godly upon earth; but rather he that loveth much, because he hath been
much forgiven!
"Now I remember," thought David, "the large picture of the Deluge,
which used to hang between the two lattice windows in my dear old room
at Greenside, and what my mother said to us about it on one wintry
Sunday, when we were almost blocked up by snow."
David sighed heavily as he recalled the bright blaze of the wood-fire,
rendered so welcome by the sharp keen air, and how those lattice
windows had been all feathery with frost, and the trees without,
silvered with frozen dew. To the poor Wanderer, half burnt up by
African heat, ice and snow and sharp crisp air seemed the greatest of
luxuries.
David went on with his train of thought in reference to the picture of
the Deluge. "My dear mother pointed out to us the Ark floating on the
surface of the waters, while the rain poured in torrents from the sky,
and poor wretches were drowning even on the tops of the highest hills.
"'Mind you, my children,' she said, 'the family of Noah were safe,
"not" because they were good swimmers or good sailors, "but" just
because they had faith and obedience to make them go into the Ark. That
was the place of safety which God had provided, and "no other" was
safe. And so Christ is our Ark and our Refuge now. If we are in Him, we
are safe; even at the last awful day, the great waters of destruction
shall not come nigh us!'"
And what is it to be "in Christ"? Is it not to come to Him as a poor,
helpless, perishing sinner, whose only hope is in His mercy? Has He not
said of such,—
"'He that cometh unto me I will in nowise cast out'"?
Reader, I ask you not whether you have ever been a wanderer like David,
or whether you have led what men may call a blameless life. I ask, have
you ever come to Christ; have you given your heart to Him? If so, He is
willing, ready to clothe you with His own righteousness, to give you
His Spirit to make you holy, and render you, by that Spirit's power,
one of the "godly" that pray unto Him!