The Mother of the Lord

Author:
Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture: Colossians
3:3

The Mother of the
Lord

We see her first, that little Mary (may I say little? I think she was a
teenager), as a simple village girl in a poor home in an out-of-the-way place.
She is bending over her work when suddenly the light changes. She raises her
eyes. A dazzling stranger stands before her with a puzzling greeting. He calls
her "most favored one" and tells her the Lord is with her. She is stunned. I
don't believe her thought is of herself (Who am I? or Am I ever lucky!). Mary is
troubled. She discerns at once that this has to do with things infinitely larger
than herself, far beyond her understanding. What can it mean?

The angel does not weigh in immediately with the stupendous message he has
been sent to deliver. He first comforts her. "Don't be afraid, Mary." Mary. She
is not a stranger to him. He is assuring her that he has the right person. He
explains what she has been chosen for--to be the mother of the Son of the Most
High, a king whose reign will be forever. She has one question now--not about
the Most High, not about an eternal king--those are things too high for her--but
motherhood is another matter. She understands motherhood, has been looking
forward to it with great happiness. Her question is about that: "How can this
be? I am still a virgin." He does not really explain. He simply states a
mystery: "The power of the Most High will overshadow you." He goes on to tell
her of another miraculous pregnancy, that of her old cousin Elisabeth, well past
child-bearing age. "God's promises can never fail," he says. They won't fail for
you, Mary. Rest assured.

How will the girl respond? She is at once totally at the disposal of her Lord
(she sees that the visitor is from Him). Whatever the mystery, whatever the
divine reasons for choosing her, whatever the inconveniences, even disasters
(broken engagement? stoning to death--the punishment of a fornicator?) which she
may be required to face, her answer is unequivocal and instant: "Here I am. I am
the Lord's servant; let it be as you have told me." Anything, Lord.

We see her next with Elisabeth, who, by the manner of Mary's greeting and by
her own baby's sudden movement in her womb, knows immediately that God has
chosen Mary to be the mother of the Lord. They don't sit down over coffee and
chatter about the gynecology or the practical logistics or what people are going
to say. Mary sings her song of gladness, of thoroughgoing acceptance of the
gift, of trust in the Mighty One.

We see her sweating in the cold of the stable, putting her own life on the
line, as every mother must do, in order to give life to somebody else. We see
her with the tough shepherds, breathlessly telling their story of the glory of
the Lord and the singing of the angel choir. Everyone else is astonished (a word
which comes from "thunderstruck"), but Mary does not join the excited babble.
She is quiet, treasuring all these things, pondering them deep in her heart. We
see her with the mysterious travelers from the East bringing their lavish gifts.
She says nothing as they kneel before the baby she holds in her arms. We see her
on the donkey again, on the roundabout journey to Egypt because her husband has
been given a secret message in a dream. She does not balk, she does not argue.

We see her in the temple handing over her baby to old Simeon, to whom the
Holy Spirit has revealed the child's amazing destiny: a revelation to the
heathen, glory to Israel. But to Mary he gives the far deeper message of
suffering, for there is no glory that is not bought by suffering: her son will
suffer--he will be a sign which men reject; she, his mother, will suffer, will
be pierced to the heart. No question or answer from her is recorded. Again we
know only her silence.

We see nothing of her for twelve years--days and nights, weeks and months,
years and years of caring for the infant, the toddler, the little boy, the
adolescent. There is no mention of any of that. Mary has no witness, no
limelight, no special recognition of any kind. She is not Mother of the Year.
Hers is a life lived in the ordinary necessity of their poverty and their
humanity, no one paying attention to her attention to Him. Whatever the level of
her comprehension as to the nature of this boy, she knows He was given to her.
She remembers how. She treasures all this. She ponders things in the silence of
her heart. Did she share any of them with Joseph? Could she? Could he receive
them? We know next to nothing of the dynamics between them. She was content to
be silent before God.

The apostle Paul tells us we are "hidden with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3,
NIV}. There is mystery there, but when I think of the life of Mary, I see some
facets of that mystery that I missed when I read the apostle. Hers was a hidden
life, a faithful one, a holy one--holy in the context of a humble home in a
small village where there was not very much diversion. She knew that the
ordinary duties were ordained for her as much as the extraordinary way in which
they became her assignment. She struck no poses. She was the mother of a baby,
willing to be known simply as his mother for the rest of her life. He was an
extraordinary baby, the Eternal Word, but His needs were very ordinary, very
daily, to his mother. Did she imagine that she deserved to be the chosen mother?
Did she see herself as fully qualified? Surely not. Surely not more than any
other woman who finds herself endowed with the awesome gift of a child. It is
the most humbling experience of a woman's life, the most revealing of her own
helplessness. Yet we know this mother, Mary, the humble virgin from Nazareth, as
"Most Highly Exalted."

I am thanking God that unto us a Child was born. I am thanking Him also that
there was a pure-hearted woman prepared to receive that Child with all that
motherhood would mean of daily trust, daily dependence, daily obedience. I thank
Him for her silence. That spirit is not in me at all, not naturally. I want to
learn what she had learned so early: the deep guarding in her heart of each
event, mulling over its meaning from God, waiting in silence for His word to
her.

I want to learn, too, that it is not an extraordinary spirituality that makes
one refuse to do ordinary work, but a wish to prove that one is not
ordinary--which is a dead giveaway of spiritual conceit. I want to respond in
unhesitating obedience as she did: Anything You say, Lord.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.

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How to Discover What God Wants

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture: Romans 12:1-2 Psalm 25:12 Psalm 25:4-5

How to Discover What God Wants

A young woman came in great perplexity to a Scottish preacher, asking how she could resolve the question of her own desires when they seemed to be in such contradiction to the will of God. He took out a slip of paper, wrote two words on it, handed it to her with the request that she sit down for ten minutes, ponder the words, cross out one of them, and bring the slip back to him. She sat down and read: No Lord. Which to cross out? It did not take her long to see that if she was saying No she could not say Lord, and if she wanted to call Him Lord, she could not say No.

No question comes up more often among Christian young people who face what seem to be limitless options than this one of how to discover what God wants them to do. What, exactly, is one's calling?

There are two very simple conditions to discovering the will of God. Paul states them clearly in his letter to the Romans, chapter 12. The first is in verse 1 (Jerusalem Bible): "... offering your living bodies as a holy sacrifice, truly pleasing to God." The place to start is by putting yourself utterly and unconditionally at God's disposal. You say Yes Lord. You turn over all the rights at the very beginning. Once that's settled you can go on to the second, in verse 2: "Do not model yourselves on the behavior of the world around you, but let your behavior change, modelled by your new mind." I said that the conditions were simple. I did not say they were easy. Exchanging a No Lord for a Yes Lord has often been painful for me. But I do want a "new mind"--one that takes its cues from the Word of God, not the mass media. I pray for a clear eye to see through the fog of popular opinion, and a will strong enough to withstand the currents--a will surrendered, laid alongside Christ's. He is my model. This means a different set of ambitions, a different definition of happiness, a different standard of judgment altogether. Behavior will change, and very likely it will change enough to make me appear rather odd--but then my Master was thought very odd.

Paul goes on to say that these conditions are "the only way to discover the will of God and know what is good, what it is that God wants, what is the perfect thing to do." No wonder we scratch our heads and ask, "What is the secret of knowing the will of God?" We haven't started at the right place--the offering of that all-inclusive sacrifice, our very bodies, and then the resolute refusal of the world's values.

"Make Thy paths known to me, O Lord; teach me Thy ways. Lead me in Thy truth and teach me; Thou art God my Savior."

Psalm 25:4, 5, NEB

"When we cannot see our way
Let us trust and still obey;
He who bids us forward go
Cannot fail the way to show.
Though the sea be deep and wide,
Though a passage seem denied,
Fearless let us still proceed,
Since the Lord vouchsafes to lead."

Anonymous

"If there is any man who fears the Lord, he shall be shown the path that he should choose."

Psalm 25:12, NEB

Discerning the Call of God

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture: Genesis 45:8 Psalm 143:8 Genesis 50:20

Discerning the Call of God

As a little girl I especially loved the story of God's call to the child Samuel as he lay sleeping in the temple. I wondered if God would ever call me. Would I hear Him? What would He say? Throughout my growing years I read missionary stories and heard them told at our dinner table by guests from many lands who came to stay with us. I was always eager to know just how they were called. As a college student I worried much about whether I would fail to follow the Shepherd, would be deaf to His call. I thought it such a bewildering matter.

It is not a worry anymore. Experience has taught me that the Shepherd is far more willing to show His sheep the path than the sheep are to follow. He is endlessly merciful, patient, tender, and loving. If we, His stupid and wayward sheep, really want to be led, we will without fail be led. Of that I am sure.

When we need help, we wish we knew somebody who is wise enough to tell us what to do, reachable when we need him, and even able to help us. God is. Omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent--everything we need. The issue is confidence in the Shepherd Himself, a confidence so complete that we offer ourselves without any reservation whatsoever and determine to do what He says.

What He says? But how shall I know that?

He calls us every day, "o'er the tumult of our life's wild, restless sea." He comes to us in the little things, in the ordinary duties which our place in life entails. When I was a child He called me. The duty which my place in life entailed was obedience to my father and mother. In school and Sunday School He called me through the teacher. What she said I knew I was supposed to do. In first grade (yes, in public school) we sang the hymn, "Father, We Thank Thee." The second stanza says, "Help us to do the things we should, to be to others kind and good, in all we do at work or play to grow more loving every day." God's call again.

It's alluring to think of our own situation as very complex and ourselves as deep and complicated, so that we waste a good deal of time puzzling over "the will of God." Frequently our conscience has the answer.

My friend Jim O'Donnell tells how he, a hard-headed, hard-hearted man of the world, found Christ. His conscience was awakened. The call of God was immediate: "Go home and love your wife." The change was so sudden and so radical, Lizzie could not make head or tail of what had come over him. This self-confident and self-interested man had quit living for himself. He had died. An altogether new kind of life was now his. The first difference it made was the difference that mattered most--in his private life. It was there that he began to obey.

We are not talking here about audible voices. Although people in Bible times often heard God speak, we can expect that He will usually speak today through conscience, through the written Word, through other people, and through events. Events themselves, the seemingly insignificant happenings of every day, reveal the will of God. They are the will of God for us, for while we live, move, and have our being here on earth, in this place, this family, this house, this job, we live, move, and have our being in God. He "pulls strings through circumstances," as Jim Elliot said, even the bad circumstances (see Genesis 45:8, 50:20).

Three questions may help to clarify the call of God. Have I made up my mind to do what He says, no matter what the cost? Am I faithfully reading His Word and praying? Am I obedient in what I know today of His will?

"Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul" (Psalm 143:8, NIV).

Stillness

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture: Lamentations 3:26 Isaiah 30:15 Job 34:29 Psalm 46:10

Stillness

Full moon on a silver sea, throwing into sharp relief the luminous rocks. I sat in the antique rocking chair by the window, a cup of hot Postum in my hand, fascinated by the undulation of great swaths of foam on the ocean, almost fluorescent in the moonlight.

Stillness. Perfect stillness. It is a very great gift, not always available to those who would most appreciate it and would find joy in it, and often not appreciated by those who have it but are uncomfortable with it. External noise is inescapable in many places--traffic on land and in the air, sirens, horns, chain saws, loud voices and, perhaps worst of all, screaming rock music with thundering amplification which makes the very ground shudder.

I think it is possible to learn stillness--but only if it is seriously sought. God tells us, "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10, NIV). "In quietness and confidence shall be your strength" (Isaiah 30:15, KJV).

The stillness in which we find God is not superficial, a mere absence of fidgeting or talking. It is a deliberate and quiet attentiveness--receptive, alert, ready. I think of what Jim Elliot wrote in his Journal: "Wherever you are, be all there. Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God."

This is not so difficult, perhaps, for a sports fan, eyes riveted on the game. For me, however, this quietness in the presence of God, this being "all there" for Him, though I treasure it and long for it, is not easy to maintain, even in the beautiful place where I live. I am easily distracted, more so, it seems, as soon as I try to focus on God Himself and nothing else. Why should this be? I think C.S. Lewis puts his finger right on it in The Screwtape Letters, which purports to be the correspondence between Screwtape, under-secretary to the devil, and his nephew, Wormwood, instructing him in the best ways to tempt the followers of the Enemy, God:

"My dear Wormwood: Music and silence--how I detest them both! How thankful we should be that ever since our Father entered Hell--though longer ago than humans, reckoning in light years, could express, no square inch of infernal space and no moment of infernal time has been surrendered to either of those abominable forces, but all has been occupied by Noise--Noise, the grand dynamism, the audible expression of all that is exultant, ruthless, and virile--Noise which alone defends us from silly qualms, despairing scruples, and impossible desires. We will make the whole universe a noise in the end. We have already made great strides in this direction as regards the Earth. The melodies and silences of Heaven will be shouted down in the end. But I admit we are not yet loud enough, or anything like it. Research is in progress."

C.S. Lewis died in 1963. Research in noise-making has made considerable progress since then, don't you think? To learn stillness we must resist our ancient foe, whose craft and power are great, and who is armed with cruel hate. There is One far greater who is on our side. His voice brought stillness to fierce winds and wild waves, and He will surely help us if we put ourselves firmly and determinedly in His presence--"I'm here, Lord. I'm listening." If no word seems to be forthcoming, remember "it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord," and "when He gives quietness, who then can make trouble?" (Lamentations 3:26, NIV; Job 34:29, KJV).

Silence is one form of worship. When the seventh seal was opened (in St. John's Revelation), there was silence in heaven for the space of half an hour. What would happen in our homes if we should try to prepare ourselves for those heavenly silences by having just one half-hour when there is no door slamming, no TV, no stereo or video, and a minimum of talk, in quiet voices? Wouldn't it also be a calming thing just to practice the stillness which is the absence of motion? My father used to have us try this every now and then. Why not try a Quiet Day or even a Quiet Week without the usual noises? It might open vistas of the spiritual life hitherto closed, a depth of communion with the Lord impossible where there is nothing but noise. Does God seem absent? Yes, for most of us He sometimes does. Even at such a time may we not simply be still before Him, trusting that He reads the perplexity we cannot put into words?

Regrets

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart
Scripture: Philippians 3:13-14

Regrets

When my father was twelve years old he lost his left eye through disobedience. He had been forbidden to have firecrackers, but he sneaked out early in the morning of July 4, 1910, and, with the help of a neighboring farmer, set off some dynamite caps. A piece of copper penetrated his eye.

Four years later my grandfather wrote this letter to my grand-mother:

Dearest:

I am not one bit surprised that after all our experiences of the past four years you should suffer from sad memories, but I really do not believe for a moment that you should feel you have any occasion to let remorse bite into your life on account of Philip's accident. Surely we cannot guard against all the contingencies of this complex life, and no one who has poured out life as you have for each one of your children should let such regrets take hold.

None of us could be alive to the pressing needs of today if we should carry along with us the dark heaviness of any past, whether real or imagined. I know, dearest, that your Lord cannot wish anything of that sort for you, and I believe your steady, shining, and triumphant faith will lead you out through Him, into the richest experiences you have ever had. I believe that firmly.

I have had to turn to Him in helplessness today to overcome depression because of my failures. My Sunday School fiasco at Swarthmore bears down pretty hard. But that is not right. I must look ahead, and up, as you often tell me, and I will. I know how sickening remorse is, if anyone knows; yet I also know, as you do, the lift and relief of turning the whole matter over to Him. We must have more prayers and more study together, dearest. I haven't followed the impulses I have so often had in this.

Lovingly, your own Phil.

My grandfather was the most cheerful and serene man I knew in my childhood. It is hard for me to imagine his having had any cause for remorse or temptation to depression. This letter, which bears a two-cent stamp and a Philadelphia postmark, was sent to Grandma in Franconia, New Hampshire, where they had a lovely vacation house. I spent my childhood summers in that house. I can picture her sitting on the porch, perhaps on the anniversary of her son's accident, looking out toward Mounts Lafayette, Bald, and Cannon, wrestling with the terrible thoughts of her own carelessness and failure. I thank God for my heritage. I thank Him for the word of His faithful servant Paul: "I concentrate on this: I leave the past behind and with hands outstretched to whatever lies ahead, I go straight for the goal--my reward the honor of being called by God in Christ" (Philippians 3:13, 14, PHILLIPS).

My Life for Yours

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart

My Life for Yours

About ten years ago, a young Canadian woman sat in the assembly hall at the University of Illinois in Urbana, along with seventeen thousand other students attending InterVarsity's missionary convention. She thrilled to the singing of the great hymns, led by Bernie Smith. She heard the peakers. "I remember the incredible excitement and desire to know and serve God that I experienced at that time. Now I have walked through some deep waters, and I feel compelled to write to you," her letter to me said. She had read two of my books just before the convention, and I happened to have been among the speakers. Another was Helen Roseveare, author of Give Me This Mountain and other books. At the time, Barbara was especially moved by the thought of the cost of declaring God's glory. Her letter told me this story:

Three years after Urbana she married Gerry Fuller, "a wonderful man who demonstrated zeal for Christ, a passion for souls, a beautiful compassion for hurting, broken people who needed to know the healing love of Jesus Christ." Following seminary and student pastorates, he became a prison chaplain and an inner-city missionary. Then he married Barbara and together they worked in Saint John, New Brunswick, with street kids, ex-convicts, and glue-sniffers.

The time came when Barbara saw Gerry seeking the Lord with such great intensity it made her question her own commitment to Christ. Was she prepared to die to self as he was? What was it that drove him to pray as he did--at least once until four in the morning? Was her own love for the Lord as deep as his, or was it perhaps shadowed by her love for her husband?

Gerry had a nephew named Gary, "a quiet guy with an artistic nature and talents that had been squelched as a child, leaving him very insecure, undisciplined." He couldn't hold down a job, got in trouble with the law. When relatives consented to his using their vacation cottage, a neighboring cottage was broken into. The owner called Gerry to say that his gun had been taken; Gary was the prime suspect, but they didn't want to call the police until they'd called Gerry.

Gerry was "scared stiff," but knew what he had to do the next day; put his whole trust in God, go to the cottage, try to persuade his nephew to turn himself in. He and Barbara went to bed.

Next morning when they prayed together he asked the Holy Spirit especially to strengthen Barbara in raising little Josh and Ben. Should she go with him to see Gary? She was relieved that his answer was no--"If anything happens to him, the children will need me," was the thought that flashed into her mind.

Gerry said goodbye. Barbara fasted, prayed, cared for the little boys, worked in the garden, waited. All day she waited. He did not come. Oh well, Gerry was always late for everything. No doubt they were deep in conversation. He had tried so often to help Gary. Lord, may He help him now.

At last the sound of a car. Eagerly Barbara looked up from her weeding. It was the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. She froze, then fell to the ground sobbing. Gerry was dead. But looking up at the bewildered faces of her sons, four and two years old, she pulled herself together, took their little hands, and told them Daddy was with Jesus and they wouldn't see him again for a long time. "From that point on there was the sense of being carried through the whole dream-like event. God surrounded me with His presence and an overwhelming sense that 'It's all right.' I knew He was in charge."

The murder was a deliberate act. Gary is serving a life sentence in a penitentiary with some who were led to Christ through Gerry's witness. They loved Gerry, but for love of his Lord they have forgiven his killer. A number of lives have been changed as a result of his testimony, but "in spite of the good things that came of his death there is always the WHY," Barbara writes. "As you say, we must let God be God. It's hard to explain, though, to a tired three-year-old when he wails, 'I miss Daddy!'

"One of my greatest blessings and comforts came as a surprise about six weeks after my husband's death when I discovered that I was pregnant with a baby conceived the eve of his homegoing. And how like the Lord and His perfect timing to present me with a beautiful child on Easter Sunday--the girl I had prayed for. Her name is Marah Grace and it is by God's grace that she has made my bitter wafers sweet.

"People say I am brave, but I don't see any great bravery in walking through one of the difficult experiences of life. God is the One who strengthens us at the time for the things we must face. My greatest fear was the fear of losing Gerry, but when the time came God swooped under me as a great bird and carried me on eagle's wings above the storm.

"So that is my story. I wanted to share it with you--I feel somewhat akin to you. My husband went in obedience to God, well aware of the danger, and laid down his life for Christ's sake. My task is to follow that example and to instill in my children the values Gerry and I shared: the supreme value of knowing Jesus Christ and serving Him with our whole selves."

Thank you, dear Barbara, for being one more faithful witness to a wholly faithful and sovereign Lord. Like Jim Elliot, Gerry knew that "he is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose." He would have understood the motto of the Coast.

Common Courtesy

Author: Elisabeth Elliot
Source: Keep A Quiet Heart

Common Courtesy

Talking with a group of seminary students I mentioned that the common rules of courtesy are often overlooked nowadays, especially by those who grew up in the past two decades, an era in which all conventions and traditions were suspect. "Mere convention" came to mean "pure hypocrisy." If a thing was labeled "traditional", it had to be discarded as no longer "relevant," "meaningful," or even intelligent. If a man had the temerity to hold a door open for a woman, he was sometimes labeled "sexist." My point in bringing up the subject of courtesy was simply that it is a small way of demonstrating that deep principle, central to our Christian faith, of "my life for yours." I asked if any of the husbands in the room made a habit of helping their wives into their chairs at the table, even when company was not present. A week later one of the men stopped me in the seminary hall.

"I just want to tell you that my behavior toward my wife has been altered since last week's lecture. And you know what! It's changed my attitude toward her as well as hers toward me. It's really been revelatory! Just wanted to say thanks."

I was immensely cheered. It's always cheering to know somebody has had ears to hear, and has actually done something about what he's heard.

What Do You Mean By Submission?

Scripture: 1 Chronicles 11:10

What Do You Mean By Submission?

People are always asking me this. What is this business of "submission" you're always talking about? We're not really very comfortable with this. Seems kinds of negative. Sounds as though women are not worth as much as men. Aren't women supposed to exercise their gifts? Can't they ever open their mouths?

I wouldn't be very comfortable with that kind of submission either. As a matter of fact, I'm not particularly comfortable with any kind, but since it was God's idea and not mine, I had better come to terms with what the Bible says about it and stop rejecting the whole thing just because it is so often misunderstood and wrongly defined. I came across a lucid example of what it means in 1 Chronicles 11:10, NEB: "Of David's heroes these were the chief, men who lent their full strength to his government and, with all Israel, joined in making him king." There it is. The recognition, first of all, of God-given authority. Recognizing it, accepting it, they then lent their full strength to it, and did everything in their power to make him--not them--king.

Christians--both men and women--recognize first the authority of Christ. They pray "Thy will be done." They set about making an honest effort to cooperate with what He is doing, straightening out the kinks in their own lives according to His wishes. A Christian woman, then, in submission to God, recognizes the divinely assigned authority of her husband (he didn't earn it, remember, he received it by appointment!. She then sets about lending her full strength to helping him do what he's supposed to do, be what he's supposed to be--her head. She's not always trying to get her own way. She's trying to make it easier for him to do his job. She seeks to contribute to his purpose, not to scheme how to accomplish her own.

If this sounds suspiciously like some worn-out traditionalist view, or (worse) like a typical Elisabeth Elliot opinion, test it with the straightedge of Scripture. What does submission to Christ mean? "Wives, submit yourself to your husbands, as to the Lord." Compare and connect.

God's Curriculum

Scripture: Psalm 119:23-32 Genesis 48:5

God's Curriculum

One day recently something lit a fuse of anger in someone who then burned me with hot words. I felt sure I didn't deserve this response, but when I ran to God about it, He reminded me of part of a prayer I'd been using lately: "Teach me to treat all that comes to me with peace of soul and with firm conviction that Your will governs all."

Where could that kind of peace come from? Only from God, who gives "not as the world gives."

His will that I should be burned? Here we must tread softly. His will governs all. In a wrong-filled world we suffer (and cause) many a wrong. God is there to heal and comfort and forgive. He who brought blessing to many out of the sin of the jealous brothers against Joseph means this hurt for my ultimate blessing and, I think, for an increase of love between me and the one who hurt me. Love is very patient, very kind. Love never seeks its own. Love looks to God for his grace to help.

"It was not you who sent me here but God," Joseph said to his brothers. "You meant to do me harm; but God meant to bring good out of it" (Genesis 45:8, 50:20, NEB).

There is a philosophy of secular education which holds that the student ought to be allowed to assemble his own curriculum according to his preferences. Few students have a strong basis for making these choices, not knowing how little they know. Ideas of what they need to learn are not only greatly limited but greatly distorted. What they need is help from those who know more than they do.

Mercifully, God does not leave us to choose our own curriculum. His wisdom is perfect, His knowledge embraces not only all worlds but the individual hearts and minds of each of His loved children. With intimate understanding of our deepest needs and individual capacities, He chooses our curriculum. We need only ask, "Give us this day our daily bread, our daily lessons, our homework." An angry retort from someone may be just the occasion we need in which to learn not only longsuffering and forgiveness, but meekness and gentleness; fruits not born in us but borne only by the Spirit. As Amy Carmichael wrote, "A cup brimful of sweetness cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, no matter how suddenly jarred" (From her book IF published by Christian Literature Crusade).

God's curriculum for all who sincerely want to know Him and do His will will always include lessons we wish we could skip. But the more we apply ourselves, the more honestly we can say what the psalmist said: "I, thy servant, will study thy statutes. / Thy instruction is my continual delight; / I turn to it for counsel. / I will run the course set out in thy commandments, / for they gladden my heart" (Psalm 119:23, 24, 32, NEB).

Lord of All Seasons

Scripture: 1 Peter 1:4 Hebrews 12:28

Lord of All Seasons

A few years ago I spoke to a group of women in Florida about Jesus Christ being "Lord of All Seasons." The topic was their choice, and I found myself, as usual, tested along the very lines on which I was going to speak. During the previous week, Lars and I had learned that all twenty-eight of the nice new (and very expensive) windows we had installed in our new house leaked. I was anxious about many things--my mother's health, my coming grandchild, a new word processor which I wasn't sure I was smart enough to learn to use, and (alas!) a tooth which seemed about to fall out. What a list of varied things to worry about.

But Jesus died for me! He's risen and coming again! He has given me an inheritance that nothing can "destroy or spoil or wither" (1 Peter 1:4, NEB) and a Kingdom which is unshakable (Hebrews 12:28). That's the gospel. Has it anything to do with leaking windows, computers, grandchildren, teeth? Well, I told myself, if it hasn't, you've got no business getting up in front of those women and opening your mouth at all. If I can't give thanks, trust, and worship the Lord in every "season," in the face of any set of facts which may touch my life, I am not really a believer. It is here, in my corner of God's earth, that I am assigned my lessons in the School of Faith.

P.S. Later: They fixed the windows for us, but then we found that all four of the outside doors needed to be fixed. God hadn't finished with us yet.

There Is No Other Way

Scripture: Deuteronomy 30:19-20 Deuteronomy 31:3-8

There Is No Other Way

In order to get to a place called Laity Lodge in Texas you have to drive into a riverbed. The road takes you down a steep, rocky hill into a canyon and straight into the water. There is a sign at the water's edge which says, "Yes. You drive in the river."

One who has made up his mind to go to the uttermost with God will come to a place as unexpected and perhaps looking as impossible to travel as that riverbed looks. He may glance around for an alternative route, but if he wants what God promises His faithful ones, he must go straight into the danger. There is no other way.

The written word is our direction. Trust it. Obey it. Drive in the river and get to Laity Lodge. Moses said to Israel, "I offer you the choice of life or death, blessing or curse. Choose life and then you and your descendants will live; love the Lord your God, obey him, and hold fast to him: that is life for you."

When you take the risk of obedience, you find solid rock beneath you--and markers, evidence that someone has traveled this route before. "The Lord your God will cross over at your head... he will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not be discouraged or afraid" (Deuteronomy 30:19, 20; 31:3, 8, NEB). It's what the old gospel song puts so simply:

"Trust and obey, for there's no other way
To be happy in Jesus but to trust and obey.
--John H. Sammis