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Into how many millions of aching hearts this saying of Jesus has found entrance, and brought with it the olive-branch of peace? It has formed for six thousand years the response to the cry of weary, care-worn humanity–a cry embracing every nation and every climate, from the yearnings of heathendom to the longings and aspirations of the present hour. From the tumultuous sea of the world’s unrest the cry has gone up like a dirge of baffled souls- “Oh, where can rest be found?” “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” This verse has been cherished by fevered toilers in life’s weary struggle. Yet in that stern, diversified battle–it may be with the humbling memories, the unrest and agony of conscious sin–in the season of pain and suffering and bereavement, in the loneliness of the supreme hour of all–how often has that word turned the storm into a calm! the weary and heavy-laden, the tearful and the fearful, sobbing themselves to rest in the peace of Christ!
