Do Not I Love Thee?

This song has been ministering to my heart since I first heard it, but it has been on my mind a lot this past week.

Do not I love Thee, O my Lord?
Behold my heart and see;
And turn each cursèd idol out,
That dares to rival Thee.

Do not I love Thee, O my Lord?
Then let me nothing love;
Dead be my heart to every joy,
When Jesus cannot move.

Within the darkness of this heart,
Other gods would vie for my affections.
But Thou art exalted far above all gods.
Let nothing keep me from Thy love.

Thou know’st I love Thee, dearest Lord,
But O, I long to soar
Far from the sphere of mortal joys,
And learn to love Thee more!

I don’t know about you, but for me, the other gods vying for my affection seems almost constant. I do pray that the Lord will “turn each cursed idol out that dares to rival” Him and help me “learn to love [Him] more.”

This is the version as sung by the Soundforth Choir on the CD “More Like You, Lord.” The hymn was written by Philp Doddridge, published in 1755 after his death. More of the verses to the original hymn can be found on Cyberhymnal. The tune there by Elizabeth Cuthbert is not one I am familar with. The interlude in stanza 3 above, the music, and the orchestration were written by Craig Curry.

Autumn

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Photo by Christopher Potter.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.
Stanley Horowitz

I cannot endure to waste anything as precious as autumn sunshine by staying in the house. So I spend almost all
the daylight hours in the open air.

– Nathaniel Hawthorne

Autumn is the eternal corrective. It is ripeness and color and a time of maturity; but it is also breadth, and depth, and distance. What man can stand with autumn on a hilltop and fail to see the span of his world and the meaning of the rolling hills that reach to the far horizon?
– Hal Borland

No Spring nor Summer Beauty hath such grace
As I have seen in one Autumnal face.

– John Donne

Leaf afloat

Come, said the wind to the leaves one day,
Come o’re the meadows and we will play.
Put on your dresses scarlet and gold,
For summer is gone and the days grow cold.

Soon as the leaves heard the wind’s loud call,
Down they came fluttering, one and all;
Over the brown fields they danced and flew,
Singing the glad little songs they knew.

–George Cooper

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Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy, and love.

— From “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” by Thomas O. Chisholm

Autumn tree

Photo by Vocaris.

Photos courtesy of stock.xchng.

How a well was a testimony

“The sinking of a well broke the back of dark religion on Aniwa,” wrote John Paton. He wrote his autobiography in three parts at three different times in his life. Benjamin Unseth used about one-fifth of the material in the three parts written by Mr. Paton to form a shorter biography simply titled John Paton, part of the Men of Faith Series published by Bethany House.

John Paton is the source of one of my all-time favorite missionary quotes. After a struggle, “dreadfully afraid of mistaking my own emotions for the will of God,” he offered himself and was accepted as a missionary to the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu). Most, including his pastor, were dead set against his “throwing his life away among the cannibals.” In a classic exchange, one “dear old Christian gentleman repeatedly exhorted me, ‘The cannibals! You will be eaten by cannibals!’ At last I replied, ‘Mr. Dickson, you are advanced in years now, and your own prospect is to soon be laid in the grave, there to be eaten by worms. I confess to you that if I can but live and die serving and honoring the Lord Jesus, it will make no difference to me whether I am eaten by cannibals or by worms. And in the great day my resurrection body will arise as fair as yours in the likeness of our risen Redeemer.’”

John and his wife, Mary Ann , arrived on the island of Tanna in 1858. The Tannese were curious about them and the Patons had to learn to communicate by gesture and trial and error until they learned the language. They found the people scantily clad, friendly but deceptive, thieving, glorying “in bloodshed, war, and cannibalism,” superstitious, and worshipping nearly everything. When the Patons began to teach them that God wanted them to ”throw away their idols and stop their wrongdoing,” persecution began.

Mrs. Paton and their baby boy died in the same month in 1859. “But for Jesus, and the fellowship He gave me there, I would certainly have gone mad and died beside that lonely grave.”

After a time some men came, like Nicodemus, at night to talk to John. A few believed, but persecution was the norm. John was in danger of his life many times. Sometimes he was led to hide somewhere, but other times, while men were facing him with spears, he kept on about his work as if he didn’t notice them, and God restrained their hands. Once he even directly challenged them to go through their rituals by which they curse people by making incantations over a piece of food from which that person has eaten, to prove that his God was greater than theirs, and God prevailed. He did have to leave the island eventually, escaping for his life. He went to Australia and Scotland to report to churches there. He came back with a wife and many new missionaries. The islanders were amazed that missionaries would return after the way they had been treated, and said, “If your God makes you do that, we may yet worship Him too.”

John and his new wife settled on the island of Aniwa. Though they faced some of the same problems as in Tanna, the Lord did bless them with a fruitful harvest there. Amazingly “the sinking of a well broke the back of dark religion on Aniwa.” The island did not receive much rain and much of the drinking water was not good. John decided to try to sink a well; the islanders thought he was mad. “Rain comes only from above. How could you expect our island to send us showers of rain from below?” The chief was afraid that Paton’s “wild talk” would cause the people to never listen to his word or believe him again. They were also concerned that he would die in the hole he was digging, and then the next Enlgish shape that came by would hold them accountable. He was able to persuade them to help him by offering fishing hooks for labor. They gladly labored, though they still thought he was going mad, until one side of the well caved in; then they were afraid and worried and would help no longer.

Jogn was able to shore up the side of the well and take precautions against another cave-in. He had prayed about the location of the well and struggled with the fear that they might find salty water rather than fresh.

Finally the day came that he broke through and found good, fresh water. He filled a jug, climbed out of the well, and called the people ove to taste it. They were amazed at the water he found and grateful that he would share the well with them. They offered to help him finish it in earnest. Later the islanders tried to sink several wells in various villages, but they either came to coral rock they could not penetrate or to salt water.
Chief Namakei asked if he could “preach” one Sunday. The book records one of the most beautiful sermons I have ever read. The essence of it was that, though they laughed and disbelieved when “Missi” (teacher) said he would find “rain coming up through the earth,” yet Jehovah God answered his prayers. “No God of Aniwa has ever answered prayers as the Missi’s God has done….The gods of Aniwa cannot hear, cannot help us like the God of Missi.” He felt that since what the Missi had said about the invisible water under the earth was true, then what he said about the invisible God was true, too, and he would worship Him. “He (Jehovah) will give us all we need for He sent His Son Jesus to die for us and bring us to heaven. This is what the Missi has been telling us every day since he landed on Aniwa. We laughed at him, but now we believe him.”

There followed a great burning of idols of many of the islanders and many were converted. They began to come to the church services and were baptized. John wrote, after a communion service, “At the moment when I put the bread and wine into those hands, once stained with the blood of cannibalism, now stretched out to Jesus, I had a foretaste of the joy of heaven that almost burst my heart in pieces. I will never taste a deeper bliss till I gaze on the glorified face of Jesus Himself.”

(This is the fourth in a series of missionary anecdotes focusing on specific answers to prayer. Previous posts in this series were about Rosalind Goforth, Jonathan Goforth, and Amy Carmichael.)

Thursday Thirteen: One-liners

TT Banner
1. We don’t have to attend every argument we’re invited to.

2. If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop digging.

3. He cuts corners will soon find himself running around in circles.

4.
Every time history repeats itself the price goes up.

5. Never put both feet in your mouth at the same time, because then you don’t have a leg to stand on.

6. He often broke into song because he couldn’t find the key.

7. It takes a smart spouse to have the last word and not use it.

8. One day a peacock, the next day a feather duster.

9. You can’t have everything: where would you put it?

10. Two wrongs don’t make a right, but three rights make a left.

11. Some drink at the fountain of knowledge: other just gargle.

12. What did the cured ham actually have?

13. Quote: “ ” – Marcel Marceau, French mime artist.

You can find a variety of “Thursday Thirteen” lists here.

Missionary Anecdotes: Isn’t “No” an Answer?

Just a tiny little child
Three years old,

And a mother with a heart

All of gold.

Often did that mother say,

Jesus hears us when we pray,

For He’s never far away
And He always answers.

 

Now, that tiny little child

Had brown eyes,

And she wanted blue instead

Like blue skies.

For her mother’s eyes were blue

Like forget-me-nots. She knew

All her mother said was true,

Jesus always answered.

 

So she prayed for two blue eyes,

Said “Good night,”

Went to sleep in deep content

And delight.

Woke up early, climbed a chair

By a mirror. Where, O where

Could the blue eyes be? Not there;

Jesus hadn’t answered.

 

Hadn’t answered her at all;

Never more

Could she pray; her eyes were brown

As before.

Did a little soft wind blow?

Came a whisper soft and low,

“Jesus answered. He said, No;

Isn’t No an answer?”

 

The above poem, written by Amy Carmichael, was based on on incident that actually did occur in her life when she was three. It turned out to be in the providence of God for her to have brown eyes. She became a missionary to India in the late 1890s. At first her ministry was primarily evangelistic. But along the way she became aware that some parents in India sold their daughters to the temple, where they were used for immoral purposes. God led one such child to her, and through a series of events and a sense of the Lord’s leading, Amy took the child in. Then more stories of other girls (and later, boys) surfaced and more opportunities to rescue and provide homes for these children arose. Amy had to struggle with this, because the Lord had seemed to be blessing her evangelistic work. Was it right to turn from that ministry to give herself to housing and raising children? She concluded that that was indeed God’s will for her life. The ministry grew exponentially and eventually became a whole compound, with housing for children of all ages, the workers who took care of them, and even their own hospital.

 

As Amy went “undercover” to find details of these children, she would stain her arms with coffee and wear Indian dress so that she could pass as an Indian woman and move freely in Indian society where she never could have as an Irish missionary. This she could not have done with blue eyes — her eyes would have given her away immediately. Neither she nor her mother could have ever known, all those years ago, the Lord’s purpose for her brown eyes, but the lesson of faith stayed with her all her life.

 

(Recommended biographies of Amy Carmichael: Amy Carmichael of Dohnavur by Frank L. Houghton; A Chance to Die by Elisabeth Elliot; and With Daring Faith (a children’s book) by Rebecca H. Davis.)

Works-For-Me Wednesday: More chicken tenderloin recipes

“Works For Me Wednesday”

I had a post in mind about time-savers, but when I made one of these chicken tenderloin recipes for dinner last night, I thought I’d share that instead.

Chicken and Stuffing Casserole

10 chicken tenderloin pieces
1 16-oz. package Pepperidge Farm Cornbread Stuffing
1 jar chicken gravy or leftover gravy*
Salt and pepper to taste
Prepare the stuffing mix according to package directions for 8 servings (save the rest of the package for the next recipe) and place in rectangular baking pan. Place chicken tenderloin on top. Salt and pepper chicken. Pour gravy over top of all. Bake at 375 for 20-30 minutes.

* You could also use 1 can of cream-of-chicken soup mixed with milk (fill the soup can about 1/2 to 3/4 with milk) or make a white sauce and add instant chicken bouillon.

Oven-Baked Chicken

10 chicken tenderloin pieces
Leftover Pepperidge Farm Cornbread Stuffing mix from previous recipe

Rinse chicken and place in bag of stuffing mix: shake well. Place in single layer on baking pan and sprinkle the rest of the stuffing mix over the top. Bake at 375 for about 20 minutes if thawed, 30 minutes if frozen.

You could dip the chicken in milk or beaten egg before placing it in the stuffing mix if you want to, but just rinsing it with water works well (and is fewer calories).

Both of these feed our family of five with a little left over for lunch. Of course, both could be made with regular chicken pieces, but would take longer to bake.

Bonus tip: If you are out of cream of chicken soup for a casserole recipe, in many cases you can substitute with and cream-of-something soup and a little over a teaspoon of instant chicken bouillon.

Request: I posted a blogging question a few days ago which has not received a response yet. If you have time, it would be a help to me to have your input. Thanks!

For more tips that work for real people, head over to Shannon’s place at Rocks In My Dryer.

Missionary anecdotes: prompted to pray

Continuing a series about answers to prayer in missionary biographies, today’s entry focuses on a couple of remarkable incidents when folks were prompted to pray for a missionary. The following came from Goforth of China by Rosalind Goforth.

Jonathan and Rosalind Goforth were missionaries to China in the late 1800s and early 1900s. When they first went to China, Jonathan had a terrific struggle with the language, though he put in many hours studying. When he preached, the Chinese would point to his colleague, Mr. Donald McGillivray, and ask him to preach because they couldn’t understand Goforth. Things came to a crisis one day. Jonathan told his wife, “If the Lord does not work a miracle for me with this language, I fear I may be an utter failure as a missionary!” Rosalind writes that he looked heartbroken, then picked up his Bible and started off to the chapel.

Two hours later he returned, saying, “Oh, Rose! It was just wonderful! When I began to speak, those phrases and idioms that would always elude me came readily. The men actually asked me to go on though Donald had risen to speak. I know the backbone of the language is broken! Praise the Lord!”

Rosalind goes on to write, “About two months later, a letter came from Mr. Talling (his former roommate, still in Knox College), saying that on a certain evening after supper, a number of students decided to meet in one of the classrooms for prayer, ‘just for Goforth.’ The letter stated that the presence and power of God was so clearly felt by all at that meeting, they were convinced Goforth must surely have been helped in some way. On looking in his diary, Mr. Goforth found the students’ prayer meeting
Knox coincided with the experience recorded above.”

She goes on to say, “Some years later, Dr. Arthur H, Smith, one of the best speakers and keenest critics of the spoken language, said to Mr. Goforth, ‘Wherever did you get your style of speaking? For any sakes don’t change it! You can be understood over a wider area than anyone I know!’”

In the same book Mrs. Goforth tells of another incident when Mr. Goforth was on furlough. “While in London, he was taken to see an invalid lady. She told Mr. Goforth that when she heard of his proposed meetings in Manchuria, she felt a great burden laid upon her to pray for him. She then asked him to look at her notebook, in which was recorded three dates when a special sense of power in prayer had come upon her for him. A feeling akin to awe came upon Goforth as he recalled those dates as being the very days when he had witnessed the mightiest movements in Manchuria.”

Answers to prayer from classic missionary biogaphies: an urgent need for clothes

I mentioned in a previous post that I wanted to start a short series telling about answers to prayer from classic missionary biographies in hopes that it would encourage us in our faith and in our praying.

I wanted to start off with something close to home. Missionaries don’t spend all their time on the front lines fighting spiritual battles or out on the streets witnessing to everyone they meet. They have to deal with the same mundane affairs of life that we all do, and often those mundane affairs are more complicated than they are in America. That was especially true in previous centuries.

The Goforths were missionaries to China in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Mrs. Goforth has written Goforth of China, a biography of her husband; How I Know God Answers Prayer (I was delighted to find what appears to be all or most of the text of this book here); and Climbing, which includes many anecdotes she was requested to share as well as some of her own personal struggles. The following comes from Climbing.

The Goforths had just escaped from the Boxer Rebellion in China to Shanghai. Until a ship left that they could find passage on, they had to stay in an empty house with little furniture. In the ten days they were there, her husband and son Paul bought some ready-made clothes, and she was able to have one dress made.

But the other three children! They were in rags given by the Chinese on the journey. How could I, without materials, without a machine, get an outfit made for even one, and the ocean voyage just ahead! Alone with the baby one morning I cast myself down by the little one and cried again and again to the Lord to send someone to help me. My distress was great. Help I must have, but I knew no one to whom I could turn. Then suddenly, while I was praying, the doorbell rang. On opening the door I found two women outside. They introduced themselves and told of having seen our names among those of the refugees. They were in charge of a Chinese girls’ school, but on account of the Boxer troubles, all the girls had been sent home. They then said, “We have nothing to do and thought you may need help.” Scarcely able to speak, I told them rapidly my story; how I was on my knees pleading for help when they rang the bell. A few moments followed in which we stood clasping hands, weeping, just too full for speech. Then they went away to get materials, for there was no time to lose.

In a very short time, they returned with a pile of materials of from three- to five- yard lengths. I cut out and gave directions for a number of garments. The women took all away and, with the help of some friends, made practically everything needed except for the baby, who, in the rush of getting others provided for, was forgotten! The day we sailed, I gathered a quantity of material together, planning to make the most necessary things for him on board ship. Then came the most beautiful proof of God’s overshadowing care.

We had been passing through the Inland Sea and were nearing Yokohama. I had been trying my utmost to get some necessary things ready for baby W., but my hands trembled so I could scarcely hold the needle. I struggled on, realizing my strength was going, but kept sewing til I could no longer see the needle. Rising, I folded the work, and, going down to the cabin, put it quietly, numbly into the trunk, saying, “Lord, I have done all I can. I can do no more. As you provided for the others, do so now for baby.” I then went on deck and lay down on a long chair exhausted. How long I lay there I do not know, but suddenly someone touched me and said, “There’s a large bundle come off the lighter for you: it is in your cabin.” Dazed at first, I could not take it in. Then it flashed into my mind, “It’s the answer.”

In the cabin, I found a letter attached to the bundle from Mrs. O. E., of the China Inland Mission, whose husband was at that time risking his life in China, seeking to bring out to safety women of the mission who were in peril. The letter stated that her little son, the same age as my baby, had died some months before and she felt it laid upon her to send me, for my child, his outfit. I opened the bundle to find not only a most beautiful, complete outfit for my little one, but also many things I needed for myself and the other children. It was indeed one of the Lord’s exceedingly abundant answers. Is it any wonder that those words written so long ago by the psalmist have always had a deep thrill of response in my heart?

I love the LORD, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications. Because he hath inclined his ear unto me, therefore will I call upon him as long as I live. – Psalm 116:1-2.

What God Does With Our Sins

I was just looking through Rosalind Goforth’s book, Climbing, for another post I am working on, and came across this study she did. I thought it might be a blessing to some.

She was often oppressed and burdened with a sense of sin, even though she knew she was forgiven, even after she was a missionary to China. One evening she searched the Scripture, determined to find out what the Bible said God did with out sin. This is the result of her study (wording and emphases are hers):

1. He lays them on His Son — Jesus Christ. Isaiah 53:6

2. Christ takes them away. John 1:29

3. They are removed an immeasurable distance — as far as the east is from the west. Psalm 103:12

4. When sought for are not found. Jeremiah 50:20

5. The Lord forgives them. I John 1:9, Ephesians 1:7, Psalm 103:3

6. He cleanses them ALL away by the blood of His Son. I John 1:7, Revelation 1:5

7. He cleanses them as white as snow or wool. Isaiah 1:18, Psalm 51:7

8. He abundantly pardons them. Isaiah 55:7

9. He tramples them underfoot. Micah 7:19 (ASV: KJV says “subdue)
10. He remembers them no more. Hebrews 10:17, Ezekiel 33:16

11. He casts them behind His back. Isaiah 38:17

12. He casts them into the depths of the sea. Micah 7:19

13. He will not impute us with sins. Romans 4:8

14. He covers them. Romans 4:7

15. He blots them out. Isaiah 43:25

16. He blots them out as a thick cloud. Isaiah 44:22

17. He blots out even the proof against us, NAILING IT TO HIS SON’S CROSS. Colossians 2:14

Missionary Biographies

When I was in college, I heard an older woman speak about the impact that reading missionary biographies had on her life. Then the church that my husband and I joined after we were married (which, incidentally, this lady also belonged to) had a Ladies Missionary Prayer Group which included, in its monthly meeting, a “book report” of sorts about a classic missionary biography.

Next to the Bible and being under good preaching regularly, I believe that reading missionary biographies has had the greatest impact in my own Christian growth. I think most missionaries would not want to be put on a pedestal or thought of as some type of super-Christian. In fact, the ones I benefit from the most are the ones whose biographies reveal they are “of like passions as we are.” (I think some older biographies tended to venerate their subject so much that they seem almost sinless. It must be hard for a biographer to want to put their subject in the best light and to want to avoid sounded gossipy by including negative things. Yet sometimes a “warts and all” type of biography tends to go too far the other way. I’m sure it is hard to strike the right balance.) Yet I’ve learned much from the examples of those who have gone before, whose lives have been shining testimonies to God’s grace. I listed some of my favorites in a previous post.

We learn history for a number of reasons, among them: to better understand our current times, to appreciate our heritage, to avoid repeating mistakes. There are heroes in our national history who inspire us to a love of country and duty and courage. There are heroes of our spiritual heritage who inspire us in love and dedication to God and to greater faith in remembering that the God they served and loved and Who provided for and used them is the very same God we love and serve today and Who will provide for us and use us. Though times and culture change, human nature at its core doesn’t change much, and God never changes.

An idea came to mind a few days ago to share some of the things I’ve read about these “heroes of the faith” in hopes that they would in turn encourage you. I thought for the next week or so I would post a series about answers to prayer. As I’ve thought back through some of the other things I’ve learned and been blessed by through reading missionary biographies, I’ve come across other anecdotes I’d love to share; but I decided for now it would be best to stick with the original idea.

The following poem is recorded in the front of Rosalind Goforth’s, book, Climbing, and it illustrates my viewpoint in reading missionary biographies. The author is unknown.

Call Back!

If you have gone a little way ahead of me, call back-
It will cheer my heart and help my feet along the stony track;
And if, perchance, Faith’s light is dim, because the oil is low,
Your call will guide my lagging course as wearily I go.

Call back, and tell me that He went with you into the storm;
Call back, and say He kept you when forest’s roots were torn;
That when the heavens thunder and the earthquake shook the hill.
He bore you up and held where the very air was still.

O friend, call back, and tell me for I cannot see your face;
They say it glows with triumph, and your feet bound in the race;
But there are mists between us and my spirit eyes are dim,
And I cannot see the glory, though I long for word of Him.

But if you’ll say He heard you when your prayer was but a cry,
And if you’ll say He saw you through the night’s sin-darkened sky-
If you have gone a little way ahead, O friend, call back-
It will cheer my heart and help my feet along the stony track.