There is little of the pilgrem spirit in those who never long for 'the rest that remaineth.'
There is too little weariness of sin - little of Brainerd's cry, 'Oh, that my soul were holy as He is holy! Oh, that it were pure as Christ is pure, and perfect as my Father in heaven is perfect! These are the sweetst commands in God's book, comprising all others. And shall I break them? Must I break them? Am I under a necessity of it as long as I live in the world? O my soul! woe, woe is me, that I am a sinner!'
There is much groaning under human misery, but there is little groaning under a sense of deep dishonour done to God. There is, too, now and then, a longing to be at rest ourselves; but rarely do you find souls who are groaning in sympathy with all creation... Oh, to hear the earth's hills and valleys ringing with hallelujahs that come from souls reposing with true sabbatic rest on their God, while all creation listens in sabbatic peace and serenity!
Andrew Bonar, Leviticus p447: