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Stewart, Maria.
Productions
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MEDITATION XIV.
If there's an idol in my heart,
Whate'er that idol be:
Help me to tear it from thy throne,
And worship only thee.
"And he gave them their request, but he sent leanness into their souls." O, my soul, has not
the voice of thy weeping ascended up before the throne of God? Hast thou not almost offended
the majesty of heaven, with thy murmurings? Hast thou not wept like the rebellious Israelites for
the onions and for the garlics that were in Egypt? And hast thou not rejected the Lord, from
reigning king over thee? O, my soul, are not thine affections prone to wander from the fountain of
living waters, and to place themselves upon broken cisterns, that can hold no water? Parent of
mercies, rivet this heart alone
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upon thyself. Help me truly to say, whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon the
earth that I desire beside thee. O, my soul, cast off from thee every darling sin, however dear,
even to the plucking out of a right eye, or the cutting off a right hand. Soon this mortal, will put
on immortality, and this corruption incorruption, and these eyes will open upon eternal scenes;
then, O my soul, what gratification will it be to thee, that all the desires of thine heart were given
thee. As death leaves me, so judgment will find me. O, my soul, vain and trifling will then appear
thy disappointments. Cleanse thou me, O God, from secret faults. O, my Father, strip this poor
unworthy worm of thine from every impure and unholy desire; from all self-righteousness, pride
and hypocrisy; from slander and deceit. Hast thou not a blessing for me? Bless me, even me, O my
Father! Bless me when I go out, and when I come in; when I lie-down, and when I rise up. Put
underneath me thine everlasting arms, and keep me from all evil. Sooner extinguish the lamp of
life, than leave me to bring a reproach upon thy cause, or wound the hearts of thy children. Hold
me in the hollow of thine hand, or I shall fall. Lord, save me, or I perish. Mind filled with gloomy
doubts and fears; feel at times as though I should fear to die. Death is truly the king of terrors. O,
my Saviour, take from me this awful fear, I humbly beseech thee! and when I come upon the bed
of sickness, do thou be graciously pleased to manifest thyself unto me and enable me to lean my
head upon thy bosom. Let guardian angels watch around my pillow; and when I behold my
weeping friends, may I say to them with a cheerful smile, weep not for me, but weep for
yourselves and for your children. And when pain and anguish shall distort these features, may I
calmly say, did Jesus thus suffer, and shall I repine? O Death where is thy sting? O Grave, where
is thy victory? May this poor-unworthy worm
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of thine be clothed with the breast plate of righteousness, and girded with the helmet of salvation.
May the testimony of Jesus be within her, his seal engraved upon her forehead, and her name
written in the Lamb's book of life. May she overcome the temptations of the wicked one, and wish
her robes white in the blood of the Lamb; and do thou present her faultless before thy Father's
throne, without spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; and when thou shalt call me to go, may I
arise, having my lamps trimmed and burning, not having a wish or a desire to stay, but to depart
and dwell with thee, which is far better. Blessed is that servant whom his Lord, when he cometh,
shall find watching.
