I have often thought, if I were to preach an Ash Wednesday sermon, I would choose these words for my text. It is the call which the Church addresses to her children on that day: "Come!" she says. "Come from the hurry of business, and the worse and more distracting hurry of pleasure. Leave your cares behind you for a time. Let the world take care of itself. It will do well enough without you, as it did before you were born, and will do after you are dead. Come into a desert place as yet unspoiled by man, and rest awhile." We are apt to think of a desert as a barren and sandy waste, destitute of verdure or beauty; but this is not its usual meaning in the Bible. It simply denotes an uncultivated tract, often used as pasture, and covered with grass and flowers in the season. It was to such a place as this that Jesus now retired with the disciples; to the narrow green plain of El Batihah, as it is now called. It was a spot about six miles from Capernaum by sea, surrounded by high hills, and quite uninhabited. Here the weary band might hope for a season of quiet and refreshment. But they were destined to be disappointed. The boat, retarded probably by contrary winds, seems to have made but slow progress, and when they did at last arrive, they found the ground occupied by an eager crowd, waiting for the healer, of whose powers they had already made proof. Here was a disappointment indeed! But our Lord shewed no irritation at the failure of His plan. He "was moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd; and He began to teach them many things" (St. John vi. 34), and He also healed their sick. Here is at once a practical lesson to be learned from our Lord's conduct—I mean that of patience under interruption and disappointment. We make a plan, for some good enterprise probably, and straightway that plan becomes, as it were, something sacred in our eyes, and we are not only grieved, but vexed, if anything happens to hinder us. We feel in our secret souls, if we do not venture to say so, that we are hardly treated, and we are ready to say, nay, perhaps we do say, that we will never undertake any such thing again. In truth, there are interruptions which it is hard to bear with patience; for instance, the way in which idle people take up the time of busy people with the veriest trifles. Yet all these things are part of our life's trials, and must be met in the right spirit, and turned to some account. In respect to our plans, the right way, it seems to me, is to sit loosely to them, with a reference in all things to a Will higher than ours. "If the Lord will, we shall do this or that." (St. James iv. 15.) If He takes us away from one piece of work, it may be because He has something better or more important for us to do; or that His wisdom sees that this particular work is better left undone. If your plan has been made with due regard to His glory, depend upon it He will not suffer it to fail utterly.