And now, behold, I go bound in the spirit to Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there:…
In the dungeons of ancient castles there was often a dark winding stair called the oubliette which terminated suddenly in a treacherous opening through which the unwary captive was precipitated into a deep abyss, and dashed in pieces on the rocks beneath. The future is, to some of us, in imagination such an oubliette. We tremble to take another step lest we should leap into sudden calamity, or into the jaws of death. But if we could only look at the matter aright, from the standpoint of faith, the tremors of apprehension would give place to the complacency of hope and trust. I have met somewhere with the anecdote of a father who, desiring to illustrate to his little daughter the nature of faith, concealed himself in a dark chamber in the basement of the house, and called upon the child to jump down into the darkness, assuring her that he would catch her in his arms. For a moment or two she hesitated, but the tones of the familiar and well-loved voice reassured her, and making one bold leap, she found herself the next instant clasped and caressed in her father's embrace. A kiss was all the harm she got by her venture. The heart of the darkness was her father's bosom. So will it be with us who have grace to trust God for the future. Let us advance, not tremblingly, but confidingly. That advance, if a leap in the dark, is not a leap into the dark. We shall find ourselves safe in a Father's arm, and feel a Father's heart beating next our own.
Parallel VersesKJV: And now, behold, I go bound in the spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing the things that shall befall me there: