
There is always peril in change. The more suddenly the change comes, and the greater it is, the more is the danger that hurt will result. There is danger in the ordinary changes of life, from infancy to childhood, from childhood to youth, from youth to manhood and womanhood. Many do not make the transition safely. There always are certain things that must be left behind, as each period is abandoned for the one that follows it.
The transition must be made, and there is not meant to be any loss in it — but rather a gain. As the blossom fades and falls off — but leaves its secret of life behind for the beginning of the fruit, so the change from boyhood is not intended to be the losing of anything — but an unfolding, a development. The true avails of childish sweetness and beauty, stay in the heart and life of youth, and become its strength. The change is safely passed, when the new emerges from the old in healthful grace and vigor.
But there is always danger in the transition, and not always is it safely passed. There is need of great wisdom in those who care for the child, for its education, for its health, for the directing of the influences which affect its growth.
There is peril also in the changes that come through life’s experiences. The impression prevails that pain and sorrow, for example, are always beneficent. Yet there is peril also in suffering. It does not always make people better, sweeter in spirit, more patient, more heavenly minded. It is its mission to produce such results. Tribulation is the way to the kingdom. The hard things of life are meant to be disciplinary. Earthly loss — should bring us heavenly gain. Pain should sweeten our spirits. Disappointments should teach us to accept God’s appointments. We should always be better for affliction.
But not always are we thus helped and made better by trial. Sickness sometimes makes people unhappy, discontented, impatient, exacting, selfish. Some men and women are sorely hurt in their disposition by it. Loss sometimes proves loss indeed, leaving nothing in its place to supply the lack of that which is taken away. Grief makes some people hard and bitter.
Thus the experience of trouble always has its perils. The only safe way is to commit ourselves to the will of God and the heavenly guardianship. Then no trouble can harm us.
An experience of change which has its peculiar perils is when one suddenly passes out of prosperous circumstances into poverty. A family, once enjoying a luxurious home and abundant wealth, faced ruin when the father’s stock market ventures failed. Losing everything, they sold their possessions, left their affluent neighborhood, and moved to a modest boarding-house. Unaccustomed to poverty, they struggle to adapt. The mother, once cheerful, is now discontented. The father, defeated, lacks his former strength. Their daughter, recalled from school to work, faces burdens too heavy for her youth. Unprepared for labor, she risks losing her gentleness and spirit.
Yet, if borne with courage, such trials can foster growth and strength. All life is meant to be disciplinary — it is God’s intention that each event and experience shall make us better, more beautiful in character, fitter for the work of life. We are always at school. It is not the divine will that anything that comes into our life shall do us harm, shall spoil our life, or prove a hindrance to our real progress.
When we put our perplexing circumstances, whatever they are, into the hands of God, to be untangled by him and then ordered and directed in his wise way of love — we have nothing to do in the matter, but our simple duty. We must keep our own hands off the tangles, believing that in God’s own good time and in his own way — he will bring about blessing, beauty and good.
J. R. Miller (1840-1912) was a pastor and former editorial superintendent of the Presbyterian Board of Publication from 1880 to 1911. His works are now in the public domain. This is an edited version of his original.
