From Depletion to Abundance

Posted on November 10, 2015 by Barbara Harper

In Mark 6:31-44, after a long period on ministering, Jesus and His disciples were so thronged with people that they couldn’t even find time to sit down and eat. He told them to “Come ye yourselves apart into a desert place, and rest a while.” They all got into a boat, but the people saw them and outran the boat to get to the place they were landing before they did. When Jesus “saw much people,” instead of being irritated that His plans to get alone and rest were foiled (as I would likely have done), He was rather “moved with compassion toward them, because they were as sheep not having a shepherd.”

He spent time teaching them, and “when the day was now far spent,” and they were in a setting where there was no place to buy food, the weary disciples wanted Jesus to finally send the people away. But instead, He told them, “Give ye them to eat.” Besides there being no place to buy bread, they could not have afforded enough to feed all the people (5,000 men plus women and children) anyway. He asked them what they had, which was five loaves and two fish. When everyone was seated in an orderly fashion, Jesus “looked up to heaven, and blessed” the food and broke it into pieces to give to the disciples, who in turn gave it to the people. Not only was everyone satisfied, but there were 12 baskets of food left over.

As I read this familiar account this morning, several truths stood out to me.

Jesus is concerned about our physical and emotional needs as well as our spiritual ones. It is not wrong to feel weary and make plans to get away some times. But when those plans are thwarted, I am not to cling to my “right” or “need” to be alone and regroup. God knows those needs, but if He allows someone in need of ministry to come into my path, I am to have compassion on them and minister to them. I should not be irritated with them or with Him or at the circumstances. That compassion will come as I look away from my own needs and desires and see others in their need.

But when I am depleted and don’t have enough to give, I’m not off the hook. I’m not excused from giving. He instructs me to give what I have, and when He blesses it, it’s not only sufficient, it’s abundant. Though the disciples couldn’t find time to eat, in ministering to others, they were fed. Like those Macedonians in 2 Corinthians 8, who gave liberally even out of their poverty, we’re to give even when we know what we have isn’t enough. In His hands, it’s turned into more than enough.

This doesn’t mean we’re to ignore our needs, not take care of ourselves, and run ourselves into the ground. There is still the principle employed on airplanes where people are instructed to put their own oxygen masks on before they help others with theirs.

But God doesn’t usually call on us to minister to someone when we’re feeling the most spiritual and ready. Often it comes when we’re depleted from already giving, like the disciples after a busy day of teaching and healing, or a mom after a full day of teaching, training, clothing, feeding, changing, and entertaining a little one, or a father after a long day at work, or a teacher or caregiver or nurse or minister or anyone who has already given just about all they thought they had. What we have in ourselves is never enough anyway, but when we’re “running on empty,” and we ask God to bless, fill, and use us, He ministers to us through our ministry to others.

How I praise Thee, precious Savior,
That Thy love laid hold of me;
Thou hast saved and cleansed and filled me
That I might Thy channel be.

Refrain:
Channels only, blessed Master,
But with all Thy wondrous pow’r
Flowing through us, Thou canst use us
Every day and every hour.

Just a channel full of blessing,
To the thirsty hearts around;
To tell out Thy full salvation,
All Thy loving message sound.

Emptied that Thou shouldest fill me,
A clean vessel in Thy hand;
With no pow’r but as Thou givest
Graciously with each command.

Witnessing Thy pow’r to save me,
Setting free from self and sin;
Thou who bought me to possess me,
In Thy fullness, Lord, come in.

Jesus, fill now with Thy Spirit
Hearts that full surrender know;
That the streams of living water
From our inner man may flow.

~ Mary E. Maxwell

(Sharing with Literacy Musing Mondays, Me, Coffee, and Jesus, Thought-Provoking Thursday, Soul Survival)

31 Days With Elisabeth Elliot: The Key to Supernatural Power

Posted on October 29, 2015 by Barbara Harper

This is from Elisabeth’s book, Keep a Quiet Heart. At first I was only going to include an excerpt of a few paragraphs, but as I read over it, I couldn’t leave anything out:

The world cannot fathom strength proceeding from weakness, gain proceeding from loss, or power from meekness. Christians apprehend these truths very slowly, if at all, for we are strongly influenced by secular thinking. Let’s stop and concentrate on what Jesus meant when He said that the meek would inherit the earth. Do we understand what meekness truly is? Think first about what it isn’t.

It is not a naturally phlegmatic temperament. I knew a woman who was so phlegmatic that nothing seemed to make much difference to her at all. While drying dishes for her one day in her kitchen I asked where I should put a serving platter.

“Oh, I don’t know. Wherever you think would be a good place,” was her answer. I wondered how she managed to find things if there wasn’t a place for everything (and everything in its place).

Meekness is not indecision or laziness or feminine fragility or loose sentimentalism or indifference or affable neutrality.

Meekness is most emphatically not weakness. Do you remember who was the meekest man in the Old Testament? Moses! (See Numbers 12:3). My mental image of him is not of a feeble man. It is shaped by Michelangelo’s sculpture and painting and by the biblical descriptions. Think of him murdering the Egyptian, smashing the tablets of the commandments, grinding the golden calf to a powder, scattering it on the water and making the Israelites drink it. Nary a hint of weakness there, nor in David who wrote, “The meek will he guide in judgment” (Psalm 25:9, KJV), nor in Isaiah, who wrote, “The meek also shall increase their joy in the Lord” (Isaiah 29:19, KJV).

The Lord Jesus was the Lamb of God, and when we think of lambs we think of meekness (and perhaps weakness), but He was also the Lion of Judah, and He said, “I am meek and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29, KJV). He told us that we can find rest for our souls if we will come to Him, take His yoke, and learn. What we must learn is meekness. It doesn’t come naturally to any of us.

Meekness is teachability. “The meek will he teach his way” (Psalm 25:9, KJV). It is the readiness to be shown, which includes the readiness to lay down my fixed notions, my objections and “what ifs” or “but what abouts,” my certainties about the rightness of what I have always done or thought or said. It is the child’s glad “Show me! Is this the way? Please help me.” We won’t make it into the kingdom without that childlikeness, that simple willingness to be taught and corrected and helped. “Receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls” (James 1:21, KJV). Meekness is an explicitly spiritual quality, a fruit of the Spirit, learned, not inherited. It shows in the kind of attention we pay to one another, the tone of voice we use, the facial expression.

One weekend I spoke in Atlanta on this subject, and the following weekend I was to speak on it again in Philadelphia. As very often happens, I was sorely tested on that very point in the few days in between. That sore test was my chance to be taught and changed and helped. At the same time I was strongly tempted to indulge in the very opposite of meekness: sulking. Someone had hurt me. He/she was the one who needed to be changed! I felt I was misunderstood, unfairly treated, and unduly berated. Although I managed to keep my mouth shut, both the Lord and I knew that my thoughts did not spring from a depth of loving-kindness and holy charity. I wanted to vindicate myself to the offender. That was a revelation of how little I knew of meekness.

The Spirit of God reminded me that it was He who had provided this very thing to bring that lesson of meekness which I could learn nowhere else. He was literally putting me on the spot: would I choose, here and now, to learn of Him, learn His meekness? He was despised, rejected, reviled, pierced, crushed, oppressed, afflicted, yet He did not open His mouth. What was this little incident of mine by comparison with my Lord’s suffering? He brought to mind Jesus’ willingness not only to eat with Judas who would soon betray Him, but also to kneel before him and wash his dirty feet. He showed me the look the Lord gave Peter when he had three times denied Him–a look of unutterable love and forgiveness, a look of meekness which overpowered Peter’s cowardice and selfishness, and brought him to repentance. I thought of His meekness as He hung pinioned on the cross, praying even in His agony for His Father’s forgiveness for His killers. There was no venom or bitterness there, only the final proof of a sublime and invincible love.

But how shall I, not born with the smallest shred of that quality, I who love victory by argument and put-down, ever learn that holy meekness? The prophet Zephaniah tells us to seek it (Zephaniah 2:3). We must walk (live) in the Spirit, not gratifying the desires of the sinful nature (for example, my desire to answer back, to offer excuses and accusations, my desire to show up the other’s fault instead of to be shown my own). We must “clothe” ourselves (Colossians 3:12) with meekness–put it on, like a garment. This entails an explicit choice: I will be meek. I will not sulk, will not retaliate, will not carry a chip.

A steadfast look at Jesus instead of at the injury makes a very great difference. Seeking to see things in His light changes the aspect altogether.

In PILGRIM’S PROGRESS, Prudence asks Christian in the House Beautiful, “Can you remember by what means you find your annoyances at times, as if they were vanquished?”

“Yes,” says Christian, “when I think what I saw at the Cross, that will do it.”

The message of the cross is foolishness to the world and to all whose thinking is still worldly. But “the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength” (1 Corinthians 1:25, NIV). The meekness of Jesus was a force more irresistible than any force on earth. “By the meekness and gentleness of Christ,” wrote the great apostle, “I appeal to you…. Though we live in the world, we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds” (2 Corinthians 10:1, 3-4, NIV). The weapon of meekness counters all enmity, says author Dietrich Von Hildebrand, with the offer of an unshielded heart.

Isn’t this the simple explanation for our being so heavy-laden, so tired, so overburdened and confused and bitter? We drag around such prodigious loads of resentment and self-assertion. Shall we not rather accept at once the loving invitation: “Come to Me. Take My yoke. Learn of Me–I am gentle, meek, humble, lowly. I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28-29 paraphrased).

See all the posts in this series here.

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31 Days With Elisabeth Elliot: The Hand That Hurts and the Hand That Heals

Posted on October 28, 2015 by Barbara Harper

This is titled “A Dog’s Thanksgiving” and appears in the November/December 1988 Elisabeth Elliot Newsletter:

“I remember fixing the wounded leg of my dog. There was some struggle and a hurt crying but he kept licking my hand. The hand of the one who was hurting him and the hand of the one who was healing him were the same, and his endurance of the one rested in his trust in the other. Out of the depths have I cried unto Thee, O Lord.” From This Cup, by Addison Leitch (my second husband, who died in 1973).

There are many lessons for us in the mysterious animal world. Have we ears to hear, eyes to see, hearts to learn those sweet lessons?

Our Heavenly Healer often has to hurt us in order to heal us. We sometimes fail to recognize His mighty love in this, yet we are firmly held always in the Everlasting Arms. The dog’s leg was hurting. Add’s ministrations were as delicate as possible, yet they hurt too, and the loyal dog accepted them and thanked him with his eyes. Have we the humility to thank our Father for the gift of pain?

“No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it” (Hebrews 12:11). Let us give thanks!

See all the posts in this series here.

31 Days With Elisabeth Elliot: Treading Alone

Posted on October 8, 2015 by Barbara Harper

The Savage My Kinsman by Elisabeth Elliot tells of her time with the Auca (now known as Waorani) Indians after they had speared to death her husband and four of his missionary friends. It picks up just after the men’s deaths but before the invitation to Elisabeth and Rachel, sister of one of the other men, to come and live with the Aucas. Elisabeth writes:

I knew that if life was to go on, it must go on meaningfully. I was forced back to the real reasons for missionary work–indeed, the real reasons for living at all. My husband Jim and the four men who had gone into Auca territory had one reason: they believed it was what God wanted them to do. They took quite literally the words “the world passeth away and the lust thereof, but he that doeth the will of God abideth forever.” It is only in obeying God that we may know Him. Obedience, if it is a good reason for dying, is just as good a reason for living. I knew that there was no other answer for me. The “whys” that screamed themselves at me ay and night could not be silenced, but I could live with them if I simply went on and did the next thing.

Jim and I had been working among the Quichua Indians in a place called Shandia. I returned to Shandia. I did the things that presented themselves as duties to me each day, and in the doing of these I learned to know God a little better. To obey is to know. To know is to be at peace. I had know idea what the future might hold. It seemed impossible that I could continue the entire mangemnet of the Quichua station alone, but there was no use concerning myself with the next day. I was confident that, as in the case of the waterfowl,

There is a Power whose care
Teaches thy way along that pathless coast,–
The desert and illimitable air,–
Lone wandering, but not lost….

He, who, from zone to zone,
Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight,
In the long way that I must tread alone,
Will lead my steps aright.

The poem she quoted from is “To a Waterfowl” by William Cullen Bryant. I think probably nearly every wife fears at some time the prospect of widowhood, and single people can fear being alone. Elisabeth’s words and experience helped assure me that if that time ever came, though it would be painful and difficult, I could trust God to be with me and guide me “In the long way that I must tread alone.” These thought also helped a great deal in the years when my husband had to travel more frequently than I liked, which I shared a bit about in Coping when husband is away, one of my most oft-viewed posts.

See all the posts in this series here.

31 Days With Elisabeth Elliot: The Rupture of Self

Posted on October 4, 2015 by Barbara Harper

This is a hard one, but the last few lines help put it into perspective:

Sometimes our prayers are for deliverance from conditions which are morally indispensable–that is, conditions which are absolutely necessary to our redemption. God does not grant us those requests. He will not because He loves us with a pure and implacable purpose: that Christ be formed in us. If Christ is to live in my heart, if his life is to be lived in me, I will not be able to contain Him. The self, small and hard and resisting as a nut, will have to be ruptured. My own purposes and desires and hopes will have to at times be exploded. The rupture of the self is death, but out of death comes life. The acorn must rupture if an oak tree is to grow.

It will help us to remember, when we do not receive the answer we hoped for, that it is morally necessary, morally indispensable, that some of our prayers be denied, “that the life of Jesus may be plainly seen in these bodies of ours” (2 Cor 4:11 JBP). Then think of this: the agonized prayer of Jesus in the garden went unanswered, too. Why? In order that life–our life–might spring forth from death–his death.

~ Elisabeth Elliot, A Lamp For My Feet

Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit.
John 12:24

To see all the posts in this series, see the bottom of this post.

31 Days With Elisabeth Elliot: Limitations

Posted on October 1, 2015 by Barbara Harper

It might seem odd to start off this series with this quote, but it is one that has ministered to me often. We are all under limitations of some kind: season of life, physical abilities, obligations, etc. And it seems whatever situation we are in, we find ourselves wishing we could do something that we can’t. Sometimes God does reveal His power and grace by overriding whatever the limitations are, or seem to be, as was the case with Moses telling God that he couldn’t speak, so it is important to pray and consider whether the issue is really a limitation or an obstacle God wants to remove. But other times the limitations are from His hand for His purposes.

The following is from Elisabeth’s book A Lamp For My Feet:

Yesterday as I was reading my brother Tom’s book, The Achievement of C.S. Lewis, I was admiring again the scope of his knowledge, his ability to comprehend another’s genius, and his wonderful command of English. By contrast my own limitations seemed severe indeed. They are of many kinds–analytical, critical, articulatory, not to mention educational. But my limitations, placing me in a different category from Tom Howard’s or anyone else’s, become, in the sovereignty of God, gifts. For it is with the equipment that I have been given that I am to glorify God. It is this job, not that one, that He gave me.

For some, the limitations are not intellectual but physical. The same truth applies. Within the context of their suffering, with whatever strength they have, be it ever so small, they are to glorify God. The apostle Paul actually claimed that he “gloried” in infirmities, because it was there that the power of Christ was made known to him.

If we regard each limitation which we are conscious of today as a gift–that is, as one of the terms of our particular service to the Master–we won’t complain or pity or excuse ourselves. We will rather offer up those gifts as a sacrifice, with thanksgiving.

And this is from a section titled “Apportioned Limitations” from the same book:

The God who determined the measurements of the foundations of the earth sets limitations to the scope of our work. It is always tempting to measure ourselves by one another, but this easily leads to boasting or despair. It is our business to find the sphere of service allotted to us, and do all that He has appointed us to do within that sphere, not “commending ourselves.”

Paul said, “We will keep to the limits God has apportioned us” (2 Cor. 10:13 RSV). Jesus did that–willing to become a helpless, newborn baby, to be a growing child, an adolescent, a man, each stage bounded by its peculiar strictures, yet each offering adequate scope in which to glorify his Father.

Lord, glorify yourself through me and in the place You’ve set me. Let me not covet another’s place or work or glory.

I have thought often in regard to dealing with the after-effects of transverse myelitis, “Lord, I could serve you so much better without this.” But it’s as if He were saying, “No, this is what I am using to shape your service for Me.” Most people who have gone through any type of trial or affliction in life would say that, although they didn’t welcome the trial itself, they were drawn closer to the Lord, and the lessons learned were invaluable.

Our current circumstances may be temporary or permanent. We need not lament what we can’t do. We can seek God’s will for what to do now. As long as the Lord has left us here on earth, He has some way for us to bless others, perhaps by prayer, perhaps by being willing for others to minister to us. Sometimes we can be dismayed by our limitations, but as Elisabeth said, limitations just define our ministry: “For it is with the equipment that I have been given that I am to glorify God. It is this job, not that one, that He gave me.”

“God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty” (I Cor. 1:27) and to showcase His strength (II Cor. 12:8-10).

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Reading Classics Together: Knowing God

Posted on August 19, 2015 by Barbara Harper

Somehow I have never read Knowing God by J. I. Packer, though I have heard it is wonderful. The title came to my attention again a few weeks ago, and I thought it might be a good time to start it. Then I saw that Tim Challies was leading readers through the book for his Reading Classics Together Series on Thursdays, and that added impetus to read it now, along with the fact that a few blog friends will be reading it at this time as well.

I’ve only participated in Tim’s Reading Classics Together one other time, with The Disciples of Grace by Jerry Bridges. I had decided I wasn’t going to blog about this book every week like I did then, especially since Tim has closed comments on his blog and readers can only participate via a Facebook group for that purpose. I’m really sad about that, for a number of reasons. But as I read the first chapter, I decided it would help me get more out of it and cement what I was learning to keep notes from each chapter rather than just trying to tie it all together at the end.

Chapter 1 is “The Study of God.” I don’t think I am going to summarize or outline each chapter, as Tim will probably do that. I’m just going to share a few things that stood out to me.

Packer starts out with a lengthy quote from Spurgeon extolling the virtues of studying God, reproduced here. Packer counters charges that such a study would be boring, impractical, and irrelevant and instead asserts that “it is the most practical project anyone can engage in” (p. 19).

He talks in the preface and some in the chapter about the spirit of the modern age of skepticism, and here comments, “I ask you for the moment to stop your ears to those who tell you there is no road to knowledge about God, and come a little way with me and see. After all, the proof of the pudding is in the eating, and anyone who is actually following a recognized road will not be too worried if he hears nontravelers telling each other that no such road exists” (p. 19).

Packer warns that, “To be preoccupied with getting theological knowledge as an end in itself, to approach Bible study with no higher a motive than a desire to know all the answers, is the direct route to a state of self-satisfied self-deception. We need to guard our hearts against such an attitude, and pray to be kept from it” (p. 22).

“There can be no spiritual health without doctrinal knowledge; but it is equally true that there can be no spiritual health with it, if it is sought for the wrong purpose and valued by the wrong standard” (p. 22). I very much appreciate that he doesn’t downplay Bible study or knowledge – too many people today, trying to make the same point Packer does, tend to set up false dichotomies about whether we love God or the Bible when we actually learn to love God through the Bible. Rather, he says, yes, study God’s Word – that’s how we learn what He wants us to know about Him – but don’t stop with the academics and the facts. Yearn to get to know God Himself through your study of His Word.

The psalmist [of Psalm 119] was interested in truth and orthodoxy, in biblical teaching and theology, not as ends in themselves, but as means to the further ends of life and godliness. His ultimate concern was with the knowledge and service of the great God whose truth he sought to understand (pp. 22-23).

One of the ways we do this is by meditation, “the activity of calling to mind, and thinking over, and dwelling on, and applying to oneself, the various things that one knows about the works and ways and purposes and promises of God. It is an activity of holy thought, consciously performed in the presence of God, under the eye of God, by the help of God, and as a means of communion with God. Its purpose is to clear one’s mental and spiritual vision of God, and to let His truth make its full and proper impact on one’s mind and heart. It is a matter of talking to oneself about God and oneself; it is, indeed, often a matter of arguing with oneself, reasoning oneself out of moods of doubt and unbelief into a clear apprehension of God’s power and grace” (p. 23).

Chapter 2, “The People Who Know Their God,” Packer expands on the theme of knowing God vs. just knowing about Him. Daniel 11:32b says, “the people that do know their God shall be strong, and do exploits,” or, as another version states it, “shall stand firm and take action.” Drawing from the book of Daniel, he notes and discusses that:

Those who know their God have great energy for God.
Those who know their God have great thoughts of God.
Those who know their God have great boldness for God.Those who know their God have great contentment in God.

It’s not too late if you’d like to join in on this study. We’re reading and discussing two chapters a week, and the chapters are easy to read and not long. I am finding it very beneficial so far.

Exceeding abundantly, but unseen

Posted on July 22, 2015 by Barbara Harper

In one of those “one thought leads to another” progressions, a line in girltalk’s post this morning, “No Grace For Your Imagination,” stood out to me: “But for today’s sufficient trouble there is God’s more-than-sufficient grace.” That reminded me of Ephesians 3:20: “Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us.” That, in turn, got me to thinking that we tend to associate “exceeding abundantly” as “big and dramatic,” but often the process of God’s working is barely perceptible. We also tend to associate it with material needs, and it can apply to those, but look at the prayer requests that proceeded this tribute to God:

For this cause I bow my knees unto the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, Of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named, That he would grant you, according to the riches of his glory, to be strengthened with might by his Spirit in the inner man; That Christ may dwell in your hearts by faith; that ye, being rooted and grounded in love, May be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height; And to know the love of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that ye might be filled with all the fulness of God. Now unto him that is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think, according to the power that worketh in us, Unto him be glory in the church by Christ Jesus throughout all ages, world without end. Amen.

This passage, along with Colossians 1:9-14 and Philippians 1:9-11, is one that I often pray for myself and my loved ones. The particular qualities mentioned are not only unseen and internal (though the results of them are seen), they’re also the kinds of things we don’t receive in a moment. They take time to grow and develop.So praying for them can often seem discouraging because we “don’t see anything happening.” Yet even in those, especially in those, we can trust God to work “exceeding abundantly.”

For years I had written Bible verses out at the bottom of my letters to my father. He never commented on them, so I just assumed he skipped over them, thinking, “There she goes again” while rolling his eyes. Yet he told the pastor who led him to the Lord that he had read them. My mother, as well, went from not wanting to hear about the things of the Lord to being very open to them at the end of her life. If I had asked her what caused the change or how it happened, she probably could not have told me. I’ve mentioned before a missionary who longed and prayed to be more loving, and turned from berating herself to instead meditating on God’s love for her, resulting in changes she wasn’t even aware of until people commented to her husband about the change in her. Many of us have experienced being given grace and strength for a trial that we didn’t “feel” so much at the time, but looking back, we wondered how we ever got through it and knew we could only have done so by God’s grace.

William Cowper says in his hymn, “God Moves in Mysterious Ways,”

Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs
And works His sovereign will.

Even in the deepest recesses of hearts, we can trust Him to work “exceeding abundantly” to answer our requests and fulfill His will.

It’s ok to say it hurts

Posted on July 20, 2015 by Barbara Harper

Recently a friend shared a painful incident that had occurred in her life, and when a couple of us who were listening tried to express sympathy, her tone changed to one of upbeat cheeriness while she tried to assure us everything was ok and she was rejoicing in the Lord.

It’s not the first time that kind of thing has happened.

As Christians, when we face some kind of trial, we remind ourselves of Biblical truth: God is in control, this has not taken Him by surprise, He has a purpose for it, something to teach us in it; He wants to grow our faith by it; He will give us the grace and strength to deal with it. Those are comforting and do help us as we work through the situation.

On top of that, we’re conscious that other people are watching, and we want to be a good testimony and to glorify God in our responses. So sometimes we translate that into putting on a happy face before others and dealing with our confusion and pain in private.

I’ve mentioned that I used to do this after contracting transverse myelitis and finding an online support group of TM patients and caregivers. Honestly, at first I didn’t join them with the idea of trying to be a good testimony. I was just looking for answers in an era when I couldn’t find information anywhere else (thankfully there is a great amount of information available now). But as I interacted with the group, I did realize that I couldn’t help but share God’s grace in dealing with me and helping me cope. I wanted to represent Him well, so I shared only the positive and kept to myself the hard days and frustrations. Later on another Christian joined the group, and she was refreshingly honest and real about her struggles, yet still expressed faith and reliance on God. That was one incident that helped me realize that having joy in the Lord is not the same thing as grinning and bearing it or keeping a stiff upper lip.

The Bible is full of God’s people speaking honestly about their pain and trouble. The Psalms especially are balm for a weary soul. Lamentations shares the full emotion resulting from God’s judgment even while acknowledging God’s justice in His actions. Paul says, “ We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body” (2 Corinthians 4:8-10). He admits to being troubled, perplexed, and cast down while still testifying to God’s keeping him from being distressed, in despair, forsaken, and destroyed. Even our Lord Jesus “offered up prayers and supplications with strong crying and tears unto him that was able to save him from death” (Hebrews 5:7).

I admit it’s hard sometimes to find the balance. We do want to honor the Lord in our trials and not sound like we’re complaining. But I think it helps people more to see us apply Biblical truth to our painful situation rather than acting like we’re above it all and unaffected. Thus, I’d rather hear, “It hurts that so many special things were stolen in the break-in, but it’s a reminder to us that thieves do break through and steal in this world, and we’re to store up treasures in heaven” than an attempt to brush it off. Or, “God, this disease really hurts today. I so wish and pray you’d take it from me. In the meantime, please give me the grace to deal with it.” Or, “I don’t understand why God took my wife home so early, and it hurts like crazy, but I depend on His grace moment by moment.” In one of Elisabeth Elliot’s writings, she said that even with knowing so many wonderful things God did as a result of her husband’s death, that still didn’t satisfy. God can save people and draw them to a closer walk with Him or into service for Him without taking someone’s life to do so. Yet she accepted it and trusted Him in the midst of it. The “peace that passes understanding” that God gives when we take our requests to Him with prayer and thanksgiving doesn’t deny the pain or problems: in fact, it’s all the more marvelous because it occurs in the midst of the pain and problems.

It doesn’t dishonor God to say that something hurts or confuses us. It might dishonor Him to wallow in it without looking to Him. But when we look to Him, honor Him, rejoice in Him, and trust Him even while acknowledging painful or frustrating situations, people see His grace is sufficient for any need.

For this thing I besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ’s sake: for when I am weak, then am I strong. 2 Corinthians 12:8-10

Sharing at Thought-Provoking Thursday.

Fallow Hearts

Posted on July 15, 2015 by Barbara Harper

The parable of the sower speaks of different “soils” of the heart that produced different results from the sowing of the Word of God. What can we do to help our hearts be “good ground” so that God’s Word can take root and bring forth fruit?

1. Hosea 10:12 says, “ Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the LORD, till he come and rain righteousness upon you.” Jeremiah 4:3 also speaks of breaking up our fallow ground.

2. We need to remove the “stones,” the hard places of our willfulness, and the “thorns” of the cares and pleasures of this life which want to choke out the Word. In a different seed metaphor, the seed being ourselves this time, John 12: 24-25 says, “Verily, verily, I say unto you, Except a corn of wheat fall into the ground and die, it abideth alone: but if it die, it bringeth forth much fruit. He that loveth his life shall lose it; and he that hateth his life in this world shall keep it unto life eternal.” In order to bring forth spiritual fruit we have to be willing to die to our own plans, dreams, desires, and will and yield all of those things to the Lord. This sounds so difficult, and it is, but the more we know the Lord, the more we can trust Him with all of those things and stop grasping them for ourselves, thinking we can protect them. His way really is so much better, but often we can’t see that til we get on the other side of the issue at hand, til after we’ve yielded. That’s where faith comes in — faith in Who He is, His love, wisdom, and goodness.

3. Psalm 25:9 says, “ The meek will he guide in judgment: and the meek will he teach his way.” Elisabeth Elliot writes in Keep a Quiet Heart, “Meekness is teachability. ‘The meek will he teach his way’ (Psalm 25:9, KJV). It is the readiness to be shown, which includes the readiness to lay down my fixed notions, my objections and ‘what ifs’ or ‘but what abouts,’ my certainties about the rightness of what I have always done or thought or said. It is the child’s glad ‘Show me! Is this the way? Please help me.’ We won’t make it into the kingdom without that childlikeness, that simple willingness to be taught and corrected and helped. ‘Receive with meekness the engrafted word, which is able to save your souls’ (James 1:21, KJV). Meekness is an explicitly spiritual quality, a fruit of the Spirit, learned, not inherited. It shows in the kind of attention we pay to one another, the tone of voice we use, the facial expression.”

4. Psalm 25:14 says, “The secret of the LORD is with them that fear him; and he will shew them his covenant.” Reverence for the Lord makes us teachable. Proverbs 1:7 says, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge: but fools despise wisdom and instruction.”

5. In Matthew 15:16 and Mark 7:13, Jesus tells the Pharisees and scribes that they have made the commandment or word of God “of none effect” through their traditions. That is a scary thought, that we can diminish the effectiveness of the Word by our preconceived notions or our imposing on the Word our own ideas of what it says or means.

6. In John 7:17, Jesus says, “If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.” A willingness to do His will makes us teachable.

This is not meant to be an exhaustive list, and there are probably many other aspects to consider, but, if you’re like me, this is more than enough to get started.

What do we do, though, if we’re not feeling particularly meek, if we know we don’t reverence the Lord as we ought, if we’re feeling stubborn and willful and we know it is wrong, but we don’t know quite what to do with ourselves? Should we avoid the Word, then, thinking it will be useless with our hearts in that condition? That’s exactly what we need not to do. One definition for “fallow” at Dictionary.com is “not in use; inactive.” The last thing we need is to let the “ground” of our hearts remain inactive. That’s one of the times we need the Word the most.

When I am feeling like that, first of all I pray and confess that to the Lord and ask Him to change my heart. Then I look up verses like three in Psalm 80 which say, “Turn us again, O God, and cause thy face to shine; and we shall be saved,” or Psalm 85:6: “Wilt thou not revive us again: that thy people may rejoice in thee?” or Psalm 119:36-37: “Incline my heart unto thy testimonies, and not to covetousness. Turn away mine eyes from beholding vanity; and quicken thou me in thy way” or Psalm 119: 10-11: “ Teach me to do thy will; for thou art my God: thy spirit is good; lead me into the land of uprightness. Quicken me, O LORD, for thy name’s sake: for thy righteousness’ sake bring my soul out of trouble.” (If you have a concordance or Online Bible program, it’s very helpful to search for the word “quicken” and read through the verses that contain that word, and use those in your own prayers.

When we go to Him confessing our lack of meekness, reverence, and willingness and asking Him to work on us in those areas, then He can use His Word to begin to plow up the soil of our hearts and make “good ground.”

If we leave a field untended, it grows weeds and the ground hardens again. So this plowing must be a continual process. It might sound painful, “but no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness unto them which are exercised thereby” (Heb. 12:11). The more our hearts are “weeded” and kept soft and pliable, the more the seed of God’s Word can take root and bring forth fruit.

Break up my fallow ground, Give a heart just like your own.
Where your word will find sweet soil Everywhere that it is sown.
Break up my fallow ground, Rid my heart of sinful stone.
Break up my fallow ground–My heart your throne

Lord you saved me with your blood you shed on Calvary,
And sweet blessings you have given everyday.
But my stubborn heart has often not been yielded
To your plan you had for me–your perfect way.

Every day I am so easily distracted
from the glory and the joy of serving Thee.
Wicked pride and bitterness are there to strangle,
Sinful habits keep me from the victory.

~ Julia Montoro