Job 30:28, “I went mourning without the sun: I stood up, and I cried in the congregation.” This day (26th November) 1731 the famous Christian poet William Cowper was born. His death nearly seventy years later in 1800 was sad because he passed away battling the depression and darkness that had plagued him for most of his life. Shortly before his death he said, “I feel unutterable despair.” By his own testimony he was “always scrambling in the dark.”
I relate this because it shows that saints can battle and be plagued with bouts of mental illness and insanity. If you battle depression you are not alone in that warfare. Noble saints have fought in those low trenches. Job for a while passed through them as our text relates. David himself has been there on numerous occasions, (Psalm 38:8) “I am feeble and sore broken: I have roared by reason of the disquietness of my heart.” Our minds are fragile and sad events can cause them to break. Don’t think this a strange thing. At such times we must guard against introspection and living within ourselves and we must battle to become absorbed with the life of another outside ourselves. Absorption with the life and death and sweet grace of Jesus Christ is the only remedy. Drawing near to the dear friend of the broken and contrite is the path to mending.
Cowper may have been much depressed but as a result he could frame words which have brought immense comfort to struggling saints.
God moves in a mysterious way
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.
Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs
And works his sovereign will.
Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take,
The clouds ye so much dread
Are big with mercy, and shall break
In blessings on your head.
Judge not the lord by feeble sense,
But trust him for his grace;
behind a frowning providence
He hides a smiling face.
His purpose will ripen fast,
Unfolding every hour;
the bud may have a bitter taste,
But sweet will be the flower.
Blind unbelief is sure to err,
And scan his work in vain:
God is his own interpreter,
And he will make it plain.