Psalms 91:3

God delivers His people from the snare of the fowler in two senses. From , and out of . First, He delivers them from the snare — does not let them enter it; and secondly, if they should be caught therein, He delivers them out of it. The first promise is the most precious to some; the second is the best to others.

“He shall deliver thee from the snare.” How? Trouble is often the means whereby God delivers us. God knows that our backsliding will soon end in our destruction, and He in mercy sends the rod. We say, “Lord, why is this?” not knowing that our trouble has been the means of delivering us from far greater evil. Many have been thus saved from ruin by their sorrows and their crosses; these have frightened the birds from the net. At other times, God keeps His people from the snare of the fowler by giving them great spiritual strength, so that when they are tempted to do evil they say, “How can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God?” But what a blessed thing it is that if the believer shall, in an evil hour, come into the net, yet God will bring him out of it! O backslider, be cast down, but do not despair. Wanderer though thou hast been, hear what thy Redeemer saith — ”Return, O backsliding children; I will have mercy upon you.” But you say you cannot return, for you are a captive. Then listen to the promise — ”Surely He shall deliver thee out of the snare of the fowler.” Thou shalt yet be brought out of all evil into which thou hast fallen, and though thou shalt never cease to repent of thy ways, yet He that hath loved thee will not cast thee away; He will receive thee, and give thee joy and gladness, that the bones which He has broken may rejoice. No bird of paradise shall die in the fowler’s net.

The noblest souls are the most tempted. The devil is a sportsman and likes big game. He makes the deadliest assaults on the richest natures, the finest minds, the noblest spirits. JOHN L. LAWRENCE

Lord!—the fowler lays his net In Thine evening hour; When our souls are full of sleep— Void of full power . . . Look! The wild fowl sees him not As he lays it lower! Creeping round the water’s edge In the dusk of day; Drops his net, just out of sight, Weighted lightly!—Stay! You can see him at his work . . . Fly to God!—And pray! Like the wild birds; knowing not Nets lie underneath! Gliding near the water’s edge— Fowler’s snare” beneath— Little feet, caught in the net: Souls lie, near to death. But the promise still rings clear: “He delivers thee,” From the snare, however great He will set thee free. “Pluck my feet out of the net!” He delivers me. When Thou dost deliver, Lord, From the fowler’s snare, Then—the glory is all Thine, Thou madest us aware, And though it was stealthy-laid, We saw it was there! L. M. WARNER