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I CANNOT SEE THE BOTTOM STEP

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Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Thursday, May 13, 1880

FromAdvent Review and Sabbath Herald, Vol. 55, No. 20

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“I CANNOT SEE THE BOTTOM STEP.”

By Carolyn Smythe

WE were gathered in the parlor one winter evening after supper. The glow and warmth of a grate-fire and the light of the gas gave a cozy aspect of comfort to the room, and we had settled each to our books or work. In our midst, upon the floor, was a visitor, our grandson and nephew, a happy little fellow just past his fourth birthday. He was building a block-house, singing softly to himself, as walls and steeples grew under his hand.
By-and-by the house-mother wanted to send a message to the kitchen, and I said,—
“Lewie, can’t you go down stairs and tell Matilda something for grandma?”
A cheerful “Yes, ma’am,” came as an interlude to the song, and placing one more block he rose and, with a lingering and admiring look at his house, came and stood by my side, still humming his little song, looking with frank, fearless eyes into my face, waiting for his message, then turned and went, with no intermission of the melody in heart and voice. The door opened, and he passed out. But hark! the song has ceased. The listening ear can catch no further sound of singing. Presently the door re-opened and he came in quietly and directly to my side, and lifting the same frank eyes to mine said,—
“Aunt Carrie, I am not afraid, but—I cannot see the bottom step.”
Poor little fellow! He went from the brightness of the parlor to the dimmer light of the hall. The doors below were closed, and the basement stairs were only dimly-lighted, while the hall below seemed dark as night to eyes accustomed to the parlor light.
“I cannot see the bottom step.”
“But you can see the first and second and third.”
“Ye-e-s, but I cannot see the bottom one.”
“Well, if you step down the first you will see another, and so on to the bottom, and then you can easily see the door, and Matilda is right there.”
“I know. I am not afraid, but I cannot see the bottom step.”
I could not be so selfish as to compel the little fellow to try the top step and trust for the bottom one, so I said,—
“Never mind, I will go.”
As I started, a warm little hand slipped into mine, the song again broke from the lips, and safe, content, and happy the child went by my side from the top step to the bottom, and the door opened into the light.
How often do we children of a larger growth, in our religious life, protest, “I am not afraid, but I cannot see the bottom step.”
God makes us his children, and brings us into the House Beautiful. All is brightness, love, joy, and we sit down in cheery content to sing over the building of block-houses of our own scheming and planning. By-and-by God speaks, “Go, work for me.”
“Yea, Lord; speak, for thy servant heareth. What wilt thou have me to do?”
The errand seems easy, and we set about it. Directly our way leads into darkness and difficulties. What looks safe and easy enough in the warm light seems uncertain and beset with difficulties and terrors in the unknown, untried darkness, and we go back to our Lord.
“Lord, I am willing to work, and I am not afraid to trust in thee; but it is dark, and I cannot see how it is coming out.”
“The way of the righteous is made plain.”
“Yea, Lord; thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path, but the light does not shine to the end of the way, and, Lord, I cannot see the bottom step.”
“Walk in the light. The path of the just is as the shining light which shineth more and more unto the perfect day.”
But with sigh instead of song, we say,—
“It is dark. I am not afraid, but I cannot see the bottom step.”
Well for us if, when the Lord himself arises to do his own work, we have childlike simplicity enough to slip our hand in his and go with him on his errand.
Shame to us that we find how easy and safe the road; how true and steady the light shining on every step; how unnecessary our doubts, alarms, and misgivings.—Carolyn Smythe, in Christian Weekly.