Christian fiction; Neighborhoods -- Scotland -- Fiction
“But what pang is this that makes Lazarus draw hurried breath, and turns
Martha’s cheek so pale? Ah, at the little window of the heart the pale
eyes of the defeated Horror look in. What! is he there still! Ah, yes,
he will come for Martha, come for Mary, come yet again for Lazarus--yea,
come for the Lord of Life himself, and carry all away. But look at the
Lord: he knows all about it, and he smiles. Does Martha think of the
words he spoke, ‘He that liveth and believeth in me shall never die’?
Perhaps she does, and, like the moon before the sun, her face returns
the smile of her Lord.
“This, my friends, is a fancy in form, but it embodies a dear truth.
What is it to you and me that he raised Lazarus? We are not called upon
to believe that he will raise from the tomb that joy of our hearts which
lies buried there beyond our sight. Stop! Are we not? We are called upon
to believe this; else the whole story were for us a poor mockery. What
is it to us that the Lord raised Lazarus?--Is it nothing to know that
our Brother is Lord over the grave? Will the harvest be behind the
first-fruits? If he tells us he cannot, for good reasons, raise up our
vanished love to-day, or to-morrow, or for all the years of our life to
come, shall we not mingle the smile of faithful thanks with the sorrow
of present loss, and walk diligently waiting? That he called forth
Lazarus showed that he was in his keeping, that he is Lord of the
living, and that all live to him, that he has a hold of them, and can
draw them forth when he will. If this is not true, then the raising
of Lazarus is false; I do not mean merely false in fact, but false in
meaning. If we believe in him, then in his name, both for ourselves and
for our friends, we must deny death and believe in life. Lord Christ,
fill our hearts with thy Life!”
CHAPTER XI.
CHANGED PLANS.
In a day or two Connie was permitted to rise and take to her couch once
more. It seemed strange that she should look so much worse, and yet be
so much stronger. The growth of her power of motion was wonderful.
As they carried her, she begged to be allowed to put her feet to the
ground. Turner yielded, though without quite ceasing to support her. He
was satisfied, however, that she could have stood upright for a moment
at least. He would not, of course, risk it, and made haste to lay her
down.
The time of his departure was coming near, and he seemed more anxious
the nearer it came; for Connie continued worn-looking and pale; and her
smile, though ever ready to greet me when I entered, had lost much
of its light. I noticed, too, that she had the curtain of her window
constantly so arranged as to shut out the sea. I said something to her
about it once. Her reply was:
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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