Our Lord is constantly taking us into the dark in order to tell us something. It may be the darkness of a home where bereavement has drawn the blinds; the darkness of a lonely and desolate life, in which some illness has cut us off from the light and the activity of life; or the darkness of some crushing sorrow and disappointment.

It is there He tells us His secrets—great and wonderful, eternal and infinite. He causes our eyes, blinded by the glare of things on earth, to behold the heavenly constellations. And our ears suddenly detect even the whisper of His voice, which has been so often drowned out by the turmoil of earth’s loud cries.

Yet these revelations always come with a corresponding responsibility: “What I tell you . . . speak in the daylight . . . proclaim from the roofs.” We are not to linger in the darkness or stay in the closet. Soon we will be summoned to take our position in the turmoil and the storms of life. And when that moment comes, we are to speak and proclaim what we have learned.

This gives new meaning to suffering, the saddest part of which is often the apparent feeling of uselessness it causes. We tend to think, “How useless I am! What am I doing that is making a difference for others? Why is the ‘expensive perfume’ (John 12:3) of my soul being wasted?” These are the desperate cries of the sufferer, but God has a purpose in all of it. He takes His children to higher levels of fellowship so they may hear Him speaking “face to face, as one speaks to a friend” (Exodus 33:11), and then deliver the message to those at the foot of the mountain. Were the forty days Moses spent on the mountain wasted? What about the time Elijah spent at Mount Horeb or the years Paul spent in Arabia?

There is no shortcut to a life of faith, which is an absolute necessity for a holy and victorious life. We must have periods of lonely meditation and fellowship with God. Our souls must have times of fellowship with Him on the mountain and experience valleys of quiet rest in the shadow of a great rock. We must spend some nights beneath the stars, when darkness has covered the things of earth, silenced the noise of human life, and expanded our view, revealing the infinite and the eternal. All these are as absolutely essential as food is for our bodies.

In this way alone can the sense of God’s presence become the unwavering possession of our souls, enabling us to continually say, as the psalmist once wrote, “You are near, LORD” (Psalm 119:151). F. B. MEYER

Some hearts, like evening primroses, open more beautifully in the shadows of life.

Love’s reckoning will always be unusual. It was by no means the ordinary thing to do for the homeless Savior; that breaking of the alabaster and that lavish anointing were quite out of the usual way.

Did Mary’s heart beat painfully as she glided in with her hoarded treasure? Did she intuitively hide her purpose from all eyes but His, who read its irrepressible meaning? Perhaps she thought only of Him who was her all.

Apparently she obtained her spikenard for the very purpose that she might anoint the Lord’s body in burial. Possibly it was only an impulse which made her decide to anoint Him beforehand. . . . Let us rejoice that she made the Master’s heart glad before it was too late.

One tiny violet of encouragement will mean more to those with whom we live today than will acres of orchids when their pulses are stilled in death.

There were four women who set out later with their spices, only to find the empty tomb.

The opportunity for anointing had passed.

It is passing today! Not in realms of glory will we be able to share in His sufferings, to help in bearing the Cross. Here, and here alone such service may be ours.

O soul of mine, be extravagant in love of Jesus!

There is no fragrance like that of my alabaster box—the box I break for Him!

I shall not pass this way again, But far beyond earth’s “where and when,” May I look back along the road Where on both sides good seed I sowed.

I shall not pass this way again; May wisdom guide my tongue and pen, And love be mine, that so I may Plant roses all along the way.

I shall not pass this way again; Grant me to soothe the hearts of men, Faithful to friends, true to my God; a fragrance on the path I trod.

Mary wanted it to be known that this act of hers was done for Him exclusively. Just for Him, without thought of self, or anything else. Martha was serving, but it was not exclusively for Him. It might be in His honor, but it was done for others also. Simon might entertain, but others were included in the entertainment also. What Mary did was for Him alone.

“When Jesus understood it, he said unto them, Why trouble ye the woman?” (Matthew 26:10 KJV). Jesus understood!

Jesus said to Peter: “Lovest thou Me?” Peter replied: “Thou knowest that I love Thee.” Jesus said to him: “Feed my sheep for Me. . . . Feed my lambs” (John 21:15–17 KJV).

“Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you” (Exodus 2:9).

Under an Eastern sky Amid a rabble cry A Man went forth to die For me—for me.

Thorn-crowned His blessed Head, Bloodstained His every tread, To Calvary He was led For me—for me.

Pierced were His Hands, His Feet, Three hours o’er Him did beat Fierce rays of noonday heat, For me—for me.

Since Thou wast made all mine, Lord, make me wholly Thine. Grant strength and grace Divine For me—for me.

Thy will to do, Oh, lead In thought and word and deed My heart, e’en though it bleed, To Thee—to Thee.

For me! “For Him! For Him!” the man cries as he planes his boards, sells his goods, adds his figures, or writes his letters. “For Him! For Him!” sings the woman as she plies her needle, makes her bed, cooks her food, or dusts her house.

All day long the hand is outstretched to touch the invisible Christ, and at night the work done is brought to Him for His benediction.

Christ . . . hath loved us, and hath given himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweetsmelling savour.—Unto you therefore which believe he is precious.—God also hath highly exalted him, and given him a name which is above every name: that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow.—In him dwelleth all the fulness of the Godhead bodily.

If ye love me, keep my commandments.—The love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us.—The house was filled with the odour of the ointment.—They took knowledge of them, that they had been with Jesus.

O Lord our Lord, how excellent is thy name in all the earth! who hast set thy glory above the heavens.—Emmanuel . . . God with us.—His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The Mighty God, The Everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.—The name of the Lord is a strong tower: the righteous runneth into it, and is safe.