The Bible takes especial pains to assure us of the everlastingness of God’s love. In one passage, for example, it is declared that while even the mountains shall depart, God’s loving-kindness shall never depart from his people. The word loving-kindness suggests all that is sweet, tender, and comforting in love. There are men who love — yet are not kind. They would give all they have to help a friend — and yet they lack gentleness. They are stern, severe, brusque. They have not a gracious manner. They are not kind. Kindness is love’s best. It not only gives — but gives in a way that adds a hundredfold to the value of the gift.
Kindness in this passage is made still tenderer by the qualifying word “loving.” There may be kindness which is not loving.
It is a great comfort to know that God’s power is eternal. Nothing can sweep away our refuge in the almighty strength of God. “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea…” (Psalm 46:1–3) But power is cold — it lacks heart. The word loving-kindness suggests affection, tenderness, all that is warmest and most comforting. The assurance is that God’s loving-kindness shall not fail. There will never be a day or hour when he will not be kind.
Can he be a father — and not be kind to his children? The Bible is full of exquisite examples of God’s kindness: “Like as a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear him.” “As one whom his mother comforts—so will I comfort you.” “The mountains may depart but my loving-kindness shall not depart from you.”
In the Old Testament we find another image of divine loving-kindness. In his farewell address, Moses said to his people, “Underneath are the everlasting arms.” There is comfort in a parent’s arms — but no human arms are everlasting. The arms of God never unclasp. However low we may sink in weakness or in pain — His arms are still there.
In the days of earthly joy, when human love surrounds us, we may not realize the best of God’s loving-kindness. It is often hidden behind the fullness of our blessings. But when these earthly things are stripped away, we find the infinite blessings of the divine kindness. We would never see the stars if the sun did not go down. We would never discover the depths of God’s grace if there were no breaks in our earthly joy. When the visible mountains depart and we have no place left to hide, our hearts find the mountains of God — with their eternal refuge.
But does God’s kindness ever truly depart? Are there no days when we might say, “God is not kind to me today?” Such questions often come from those suffering loss or bitter disappointment.
“Where can you find the loving-kindness of God in my experience?” someone may ask. We may not be able to interpret every providence that staggers the faith of even earnest souls. But we do know that there is never a break in divine love — even when we cannot see it.
We are sure God knows all that we suffer. The prophet taunted the worshipers of Baal, saying their god might be asleep or away. But there are no such taunts about our God. He is never absent, never unaware, never uninformed of our condition.
Does he know what we are enduring — and still send no relief? Does he hear our prayers and not answer? Yes, he knows — yet may not bring the help we ask for. But this does not mean he is not kind.
There are two ways of showing kindness. One is by being always tender, shielding our loved ones from every discomfort. Some parents treat their children this way, denying them nothing and never permitting them to suffer. But another kind of kindness seeks not ease or pleasure — but the highest good of the child.
Sometimes God lets us suffer — even causes us to suffer. Is he then unkind? Does a loving parent never allow their child to endure pain? Suppose your child’s foot is crushed, and the doctors must amputate. It hurts deeply — but it would be cruel not to act. It is not unkind to use the knife, when that is the only way to save the child’s life.
God’s love works the same way. When he says, “My loving-kindness shall not depart from you,” he does not mean you will have no suffering, no hardship, no pain. He means that everything he does in your life — even the painful things — is done in love, to shape you into Christlikeness and prepare you for greater usefulness.
Sometimes, it will seem that he disregards your happiness. But if he shielded you from all pain, he would not be kind. Some day you will understand that the truest kindness is always that which makes your life richer, deeper, holier — and a greater blessing to the world.
J. R. Miller (1840-1912) was a pastor and former editorial superintendent of the Presbyterian Board of Publication from 1880 to 1911. His works are now in the public domain. This is an edited version of his original.
