Job 8:11

The rush is spongy and hollow, and so also is a hypocrite; there is no substance or stability in him. It is shaken back and forth in every wind, just as formalists yield to every influence. For this reason, the rush is not broken by the tempest, nor are hypocrites troubled with persecution.

I would not willingly be a deceiver or be deceived; perhaps the text for this day may help me to test myself, whether I am a hypocrite or not. The rush by nature lives in water and owes its very existence to the mire and moisture in which it has taken root; let the mire become dry, and the rush withers very quickly.

Its greenness is absolutely dependent upon circumstances: a present abundance of water makes it flourish, and a drought destroys it at once. Is this my case? Do I only serve God when I am in good company, or when religion is profitable and respectable? Do I love the Lord only when temporal comforts are received from His hands?

If so, I am a base hypocrite, and like the withering rush, I will perish when death deprives me of outward joys. But can I honestly assert that when bodily comforts have been few, and my surroundings have been more adverse to grace than helpful to it, I have still held fast to my integrity?

Then I have hope that there is genuine, vital godliness in me. The rush cannot grow without mire, but plants of the Lord’s right-hand planting can and do flourish even in the year of drought. A godly man often grows best when his worldly circumstances decay. He who follows Christ for his bag is a Judas; those who follow for loaves and fishes are children of the devil; but those who attend Him out of love for Him are His own beloved ones. Lord, let me find my life in you, and not in the mire of this world’s favor or gain.