“’Tis all for the best,” Paul said when he and Silas were, as a reward of their self-sacrificing labor, thrust into the rude Philippian jail, and their feet made fast in the stocks. Their backs were bleeding from the lash, their bodies were weary, their limbs were cramped and aching. Could this too, be all for the best? “We glory in tribulations,” were the words of the undaunted hero. God knew whom He could trust with His message in that uninviting dungeon. The sun went down on a family in the darkness of heathenism; it rose the next morning on a family of regenerated, baptized Christians.
“’Tis all for the best,” Joseph said to his brethren, who had cruelly sold him into Egyptian bondage. “God did send me before you to preserve life.” Ten men repentant and forgiven, nations saved from famine. Glorious results, but think of the sacrifice to Joseph.
“’Tis all for the best,” John the Baptist said from behind the bars of his Roman cell, and then, with unclouded faith and fearless heart, he submitted his neck to the executioner’s axe. Fifty millions of martyrs were afterward strengthened and sustained by John’s fortitude.
“’Tis all for the best,” Moses said when they were thirsting and starving in a desolate wilderness; it is “to humble thee, and to prove thee, to know what was in thine heart, whether thou wouldest keep his commandments or no.”
“’Tis all for the best,” James says, when temptations assail you. “Count it all joy when ye fall into divers temptations.”
“’Tis all for the best,” Jesus said, when Lazarus was taken sick. “ This sickness is . . . for the glory of God, that the Son of God might be glorified thereby.”
“’Tis all for the best,” Tom Scott the miner was always preaching to his skeptical comrades in the coal pit. One day when they had come up to the mouth of the shaft to eat their dinner, a hungry dog grabbed up Scott’s lunch basket and ran away with it. Scott was derisively asked if this was “all for the best.” Without waiting to notice their jeers, he took hard after the dog to recover his midday meal. But the chase was a long one, and before it was over, the men had returned to their work. As he was about to descend the shaft, a loud report told him that there had been a terrible explosion. All his unbelieving comrades were found dead.
“’Tis all for the best,” Mrs. Simpson said, as an angry landlord drove her and her invalid husband from the little cottage he owned because of Mrs. Simpson’s refusal to assist him in straightening some accounts on the Sabbath. They begged him to allow them to remain one more night, promising to vacate the next day. But he was unfeeling, angry, and determined. So they hastily gathered their few things, and removed to a near-by hut. “ ‘Tis all for the best,” Mrs. Simpson repeated; but her husband was less cheerful. That very night the vacated cottage was struck by lightning, and burned to the ground.
“’Tis all for the best,” said a poor widow, who, having once lived in affluence, was finally compelled to accept a room in an almshouse.
“Well,” said a friend, who had known her in better days, and who seemed shocked to see her living in an almshouse, “surely you can not say all is for the best now. I am surprised to see you here—you who used to be so charitable yourself, that you never suffered any distress in the neighborhood that you could prevent. Why, you were born and bred a lady.”
“Ah, dear friend,” the widow said, “I was born and bred a sinner, undeserving of the mercies I have received. Here my cares are at an end, but not my duties. I have here a great deal of leisure; a good part of this I devote to the wants of those who are more distressed than myself. I work a little for the old, and I instruct the young. My eyes are good; this enables me to read the Bible and other good books to those who have lost their eyesight, or who were never taught to read. I have tolerable health; so that I am able occasionally to sit up with the sick and pray with them. In my younger days I often sat up late for my pleasure; shall I not willingly now and then sit up by a dying bed? My Saviour walked, and watched, and suffered for me in the garden, and shall I not gladly do what I can for His suffering members? It is only by keeping His sufferings in view that we can willingly sacrifice for others or practice self- denial ourselves. Yes, bless God, I know all things work together for good to those that love Him.”
O yes, “’Tis all for the best.”