The Candle Wick and Me

Not I, but Christ. (Gal. 2:20) Full of the Holy Ghost. (Acts 11:24) We would in Thee abide, In Thee be glorified, And shine as candles “lighted by the Lord.”

A devotion by F. B. MEYER, that has touched my heart, and I hope yours.

“For the service of many months, I thank thee.”

For long, the wick of my lamp had served my purpose, silently ministering as I read beside it. I felt ashamed that I had not before noticed its unobtrusive ministry. I said to the wick: “For the service of many months, I thank thee.” “What have I done for thee?” “Hast thou not given light upon my page?” “Indeed, no; I have no light to give, in proof of which take me from my bath of oil, and see how quickly I expire. Thou wilt soon turn from me like a piece of smoking tow. It is not I that burns, but the oil with which my texture is saturated. It is this that lights thee. I simply mediate between the oil in the cistern and the fire on my edge. This blackened edge slowly decays, but the light continually burns.”

“Dost thou not fear becoming exhausted?

See how many inches of coil remain! Wilt thou be able to give light till every inch of this is slowly charred and cut away?” “I have no fear so long as the supply of oil does not fail, if only some kindly hand will remove from time to time the charred margin…exposing a fresh edge to the flame.

This is my twofold need: oil and trimming.

Give me these, and I shall burn to the end!” God has called His children to shine as “lights in the world.” Let us, then, beware of hiding our light—whether household candle, street lamp, or lighthouse gleam—lest men stumble to their death. It is at variance with the teaching of the wick to try and accumulate a stock of grace in a sacrament, a convention, or a night of prayer. The wick has no such stores, but is always supplied! You may seem altogether helpless and inadequate, but a living fountain of oil is prepared to furnish you with inexhaustible supplies: Not by your might or power, but by His Spirit. Hour after hour, the oil climbs up the wick to the flame!

YOU CANNOT EXHAUST GOD!

Let us not flinch when the snuffers are used; they only cut away the black charred debris. He thinks so much of His work that He uses golden snuffers! And the Hand that holds the snuffers bears the nail print of Calvary!

Let the wick of my lightnside always be filled with the oil of His Presence.

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