“Even to your old age I am he; and even to hoar hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you“– Isaiah 46:4

“Even to your old age I am he.” Even when you look in the mirror and see yourself changing—more wrinkles, less hair, fewer teeth—even then, I am still he. I am still the unchanging, unchangeable God.

It was I, God says, Who carried you out of the womb in your infancy; and it is I, He reminds us, that will still be here for you when you grow old. Though your strength and energy may diminish, I am still able to bear you. Though your hair may become gray, I remain the same.

“I will carry, and will deliver you.” Rather than calling the end of our road death, God calls it deliverance. Why? Because when God is carrying you, death is only the doorway to an everlasting life.

Here is the summary of God’s promise: just as I made you to begin with, I am able and willing to carry you and bear your burdens, until I finally deliver you into a carefree, burden-free, never-ending life. Because I am unchanging, I will always have the strength to carry you, and because I am unchanging I will always fulfill all my promises.

Have you committed yourself to the everlasting, unchanging arms of your Creator and Lord? His arms are the only ones strong enough to last through this life, and long enough to deliver you to the next.–Baptist Bible Hour

“A merry heart doeth good like a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones. “– Pro 17:22.

“Rejoice evermore.Pray without ceasing.In every thing give thanks..“– 1Th 5:16-18

A happy and cheerful heart is a matter of cultivation. We cannot afford to abandon ourselves entirely to our moods. There are times when we feel depressed and sad, for no special reason, except that a mood is on us! It is at such times that we need to anoint our heads, and wash our faces, that we may not be consumed by our fretfulness, or impose our depression upon others, for nothing is worse than to be a wet blanket! (Mat 6:16-18.)

On the other hand, there is nothing more objectionable than to be always in the presence of a comic person who thinks that every occasion must serve for frolic. After a time one gets as tired of funny stories and perpetual punning as of gloom, but while avoiding this extreme, we must not fall into the other of wearing a lugubrious (sad, dismal)  expression and giving way to a moodiness of spirit, which cannot be accounted for.

We may alter our dispositions and moods by a resolute action of the will. We can refuse to look miserable, to speak mournfully, to be pessimistic, to pass on depression. In a spirit of unselfishness we can put on a cheerful courage, array ourselves in the garments of joy, anoint ourselves with the spirit of praise and thankfulness, and go forth into the world to shed sunbeams rather than shadows on the path of life. Do not nurse your sorrow of heart, lest your spirit and the spirits of others be broken.

We can promote a cheerful heart by dwelling on the bright things of our lot; by counting up the mercies which are left, rather than dwelling on what we have lost. When the heart is full of the light and love of God, can it be other than cheerful? How can this be obtained except by a living union with Jesus Christ. In Him there is an infinitude of supply of peace and joy, sunshine and light. Let us open our hearts to him, and put on these things as we array ourselves each morning in our garments (Isa 61:3-10).

Through all the changing scenes of life,

In trouble and in joy,

The praises of my God shall still

My heart and tongue employ. AMEN. — F. B. Meyer

“And if ye call on the Father, who without respect of persons judgeth according to every man’s work, pass the time of your sojourning here in fear:”— 1 Pet 1:17

Our life here is but a vapor. We are but pilgrims and strangers on this earthly ball, mere sojourners, without fixed or settled habitation, and passing through this world as not our home or resting-place. The Apostle, therefore, bids us pass this time, whether long or short, of our earthly sojourn, under the influence and in the exercise of godly fear. We are surrounded with enemies, all seeking, as it were, our life, and therefore we are called upon to move with great caution, knowing how soon we may slip and fall, and thus wound our own consciences, grieve our friends, gratify our enemies, and bring upon ourselves a cloud of darkness which may long hover over our souls.

Our life here below is not one of ease and quiet, but a warfare, a conflict, a race, a wrestling not with flesh and blood alone, but with principalities and powers and spiritual wickedness in high places. We have to dread OURSELVES more than anything or anybody else, and to view our flesh as our greatest enemy. This fear is not a slavish, legal fear, such as that which John speaks of, and of which he says that “it has torment,” but that holy, godly, and filial fear which is the first fruit and mark of covenant grace, and is “a fountain of life, to depart from the snares of death.” How needful, then, is it to pass the time of our sojourning here in the exercise of this godly, reverential fear! And let no one think that this filial fear is inconsistent with faith even in its highest risings, or with love in its sweetest enjoyments.–J. C. Philpot

“And I will bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will lead them in paths that they have not known: I will make darkness light before them, and crooked things straight. These things will I do unto them, and not forsake them.”—Isa 42:16

God leads often to good ends–through ways which to us seem dark. He can make crooked things, straight for us. Perhaps we shall find at the last, that many of the best things of our life, are things over which we grieve now as blunders. We do the best we can, and yet we fail, or seem to fail; but in God’s eyes, the effort tells of love and of desire to please him, and thus wins from him warmer commendation than does many a piece of elaborate work, wrought in most intricate way.

God can use our poorest efforts ofttimes to greater purpose, than our finest and most polished endeavors, because they are less spoiled by human pride. Self-consciousness always mars human work. The things we do which satisfy us–are not likely to satisfy our Master. Many times the piece of work which we think very fine, which pleases us well, turns put to be of little use. God cannot use it because we have left no place in it for him. Then, ofttimes something which we think of no account–God uses to accomplish great results. The less of SELF there is in our service–the more is the service worth. There is room then in it for more of God, and it is the divine in what we do–that alone gives it efficiency and value.–J. R. Miller