The most beautiful fiction in all the Bible is when God appears to put His child on a wide path and tells him to walk alone. The fiction is, He never really lets him go. Christ never relaxes His hand from his garment, but loosens it, and makes it seem as if He were gone. At such times, He does not let him see His everlasting arms surrounding him, or sense the encircling care He infallibly has. He does not let His child know that he is guarded on every side, from every foe, in every situation. He conceals His arm in a mist so the child might avert his eyes from present objects and raise them to the heavens. Now he is in "need of patience," (Heb 10:36) so that he may continue to direct his desires towards Christ, when He delays the arrival of His promise.
He does this to try the heart and prove the reins. For who's benefit, exactly? His own? Hardly. He knows and has planned your ways from everlasting. The benefit is for you, dear one. To test your love against the absence of sight, sound, and feeling. When the sun is long hidden on a field of wheat, the stalks droop and languish. But the root is still alive. And when the rains are gone and the sun returns, it brings forth fruit in season. In the same way, the Lord proves His sovereignty, prevents spiritual pride, reproves a careless walk, chides worldly-mindedness, and causes a great search of the heart. Why? So that a restless seeking might begin afresh, and a fervent cry pour forth, "Saw ye him whom my soul loveth?"
I cannot live without Him. His presence is my heaven. His absence is my hell. Oh, dear one, He hides for a time, but not forever. "In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord, thy Redeemer." Isa. 54:8.