The semi-weekly messenger. [volume] (Wilmington, N.C.) 1897-1908, 1902-03-04

heavy laden, and I will give you rests
Oh. come under the wings,
But now the summer day is almost
past, and the shadows Of the house and
barn and wagon shed have heightened.
The farmer, with scythe or hoe on
shoulder, is returning from the fields.
The oxen are unyoked. The horses are
c~runching the oats at the full bin. The
air Is bewitched of h~oneysuckle and
wild brier. The milkman, pail in hand,
is approaching the barnyard. The
fowls, keeping early hours, are collect
ing their young "Cluckr' "Cluckr
feathered nursery are closed. The
bachelors of the winged tribe have as
cended to their perch, but the hens, in
n motherhood divinely appointed, take
all the risk OF a slumber on the ground,
and all night long the wings will stay
o~utspread, and the little ones will o
utter n sound. Thus at shutdown, loving
~, safely. completely. the hen broods her
young. So, If we are the Lords, theeven-
ing Of u life will ome The heats of
the day will have passed. There will be
shadows, and we cannot see as far.
The work of life will be about ended.
h hawks of temptation that lowered
in the sky will have zone to the woods
n folded their wings. Sweet silences
will come. The air will be redolent
with the breath of whole arbors of
promises sweeter than jasmine or even
ing primrose. The air may be a little
chill, but Christ will call US, and we
will know the voice and heed the call,
and we will come under the wings for
the night, the strong wings, the soft
wings, the warm wings, and without
fear and in full sense of safety, and
then we will rest from shutdown to sun
rise, "as a hen gathereth her chickens
under her wing"
Dear me! How many souls the Lord
hath thus brooded! Mothers, after
watching over sick cradles and then
watching afterward over hayward
sons and daughters, at last themselves
taken care of by Il motherly God.
Business men, after a lifetime strug-
Cling with the uncertainties Of money
markets and the change of tariffs and
the undersellinG of men who because
of their dishonesties can afford to un-
dersell. and years Of disappointment
and struggle, at last under wings
where nothing can perturb them any
more than can a bird of prey which is
ten miles off disturb a chick at mid
night brooded in a barnyard.
Under the Divine Wings.
My text has it's strongest application
for people who were born in the coun-
try, wherever you may now live, and
that is the majority Of you. You a n
not hear my text without having all
the rustic scenes of the old farmhouse
come back to you. Good old days they
were. You knew nothing much of the
world, for you had not seen the world.
By law of association you cannot re-
call the brooding hen and her chickens
without seeing also the barn and the
haymow and the wagon shed and the
house and the room where you played
and the fireside with the big backlog
before which you sat and the neigh
bors and the burial and the wedding
and b deep snowbanks and hear the
village bell that called you to worship
and seeing the horses which, after
pulling you to church, stood around the
old c~lapboarded meeting house and
those who sat at either end of the
church pew and, indeed, all the scenes
of your first fourteen years, and you
think of what you were then and of
what you are now, and all these
thoughts are aroused by the sight of
the old hencoop. Some of you had bet
ter go back and start again. In thought
return to that place and hear the cluck
and see the outspread feathers and
come under the wing and make the
Lord your portion and shelter and
warmth, preparing for everything that
may come and so avoid being classed
among those described by the closing
words of my text, las a hen gathereth
her chickens under her wings, and We
would not" All. hat throws the re-
sponsibility upon us. I'VE would not"
Alas. for the would nots!" If the
wandering broods of the farm heed not
their mothers call and risk the hawk
and dare the freshet and expose them
selves to the frost and storm, surely
their calamities are not the mothers
fault. Eye would mott" God would,
but how many would not?
When a good man asked a young wo-
ma who had abandoned her home and
who was deploring her wretchedness
why she did not return, the reply was:
81 dare not go home. My father is SO
provoked he would not receive me
home" Then" said the Christian
man, 81 will test this" And so b.
wrote to the father, and the reply
came back. and in a letter marked out
side Immediate" and inside saying.
Let her come at once; all is forgiven"
So Gods invitation for you is marked
Immediate" on the outside, and in
side it is written. HE will abundantly
pardon" Oh. We wanderers from God
and happiness and home and heaven,
come under the sheltering wing. A