Inspiration
(quoted from http://www.desiringgod.org/library/sermo…)
A hundred years ago John Paton, from Scotland, took the gospel to the New Hebrides in the South Pacific, today’s Vanuatu. Within months his wife and son died. But Paton spent the rest of his life, until he was an old man, planting the church on the Islands. Paul’s experience in 2 Timothy 4:17 was his as well. He quoted Jesus’ words, “Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age,” then said, “Precious promise! How often I adore Jesus for it, and rejoice in it! Blessed be his name” (John G. Paton: Missionary to the New Hebredes, An Autobiography Edited by His Brother, p. 154).
Once he was surrounded by a mob seeking his life. He hid in a tree above them and spent a terrifying night there. He wrote later,
Yet I sat there among the branches, as safe in the arms of Jesus. Never, in all my sorrows, did my Lord draw nearer to me, and speak more soothingly in my soul . . . as I told all my heart to Jesus. . . . I will not grudge to spend many nights alone in such a tree, to feel again my Savior’s spiritual presence, to enjoy His consoling fellowship (Autobiography p. 200).
William Carey, the father of modern missions left for India from England in 1793 and never came home. He labored 40 years without a furlough. He lost two of his three wives in death. When he had a fever they attached 110 leeches to his thigh. And on March 11, 1812—after almost 20 years of work—a fire broke out and destroyed years of irreplaceable work. The draft of the great polyglot dictionary. The Sikh and Telugu grammars. Ten version of Bible that had been going through the press. The translation of the Ramayana which he and his partners had been working on for six years.
Carey was out of town in Calcutta. When Marshman told him tears filled his eyes, and later he said,
In one short evening the labours of years are consumed. How unsearchable are the ways of God! I had lately brought some things to the utmost of perfection of which they seemed capable, and contemplated the missionary establishment with perhaps too much self-congratulation. The Lord has laid me low, that I may look more simply to him (Mary Drewry, William Carey: A Biography, p. 154).
Carey knew, and Carey learned painfully to know better, that the mission of Christ goes forward by looking more simply to him. “I will be with you, I will help you.” In all his losses, the Lord stood with him. He never forsook him. Never could he have endured as he did without him.
His watchword, was “Expect great things from God, attempt great things for God.” In that order! First trust him. Trust his promise. He will stand with you. He will give you strength. Then . . . THEN . . . “attempt great things for God.” You will open your mouth. The nations will hear and be glad.
C. S. Lewis - “We are what we believe we are.”
This one was sent to me by one of my mentors Terry Cook:
The Silence of Adam – Larry Crabb
pp.101-102
A man can be understood by knowing the questions that burn hotly within him. For many men, one question stands out among others as the one that matters most: “What should I do?” When men feel their deepest agony, that is the question they ask.
When a man finds himself in a place where that question cannot be answered, he moves to a place where it can. When he looks around and realizes he has wandered into a confusing situation where courage and creativity are required, he finds a way to return to the sphere of management, to some activity or responsibility where his skill and know-how are useful, where his inadequacy and fear will not be exposed, where the courage to live in an unpredictable world is not required; in short, he retreats to where he can find an answer to his burning question.
When a man flees the terror of mystery for the comforts of management, he compromises himself. A man ruled by the demand that he always know what to do cannot experience the deep joys of manhood. He has violated his calling and betrayed his nature.
God calls a man to speak into darkness, to remember who God is and what he has revealed about life, and – with that memory uppermost in his mind – to move into his relationships and responsibilities with the imaginative strength of Christ.
God is telling a story, a story full of life, love, and grace, a story of hating evil and honoring good, a story rich in drama, poetry, and passion. As we see his story told through our lives, we find the courage to handle the inevitable confusion of life. We find the strength to move ahead, to take risks, to relate deeply, because we are caught up in the larger story of God.
God calls us to move beyond the silence of Adam. We are to abandon ourselves to God with absolute confidence in his goodness; and with the freedom created by that confidence, we are to move into the depths of dangerous uncertainty with a life-giving word. That kind of movement might be something as simple as encouraging a child by giving extra attention, or something as terrifying as giving your heart where it may not be wanted.
But that is where the rub is in moving beyond Adam’s silence: we experience fear. A commitment to manly movement creates healthy fear. We realize there is no code to follow in the arenas we determine to enter. But it also creates a sense of anticipation. As we resolve to speak in darkness, God give courage: not the sort that stills trembling legs but the kind that helps us move forward on them.
It’s an interesting progression. When men move forward in faith, they more deeply realize their need of God, and therefore more earnestly seek him. And when we seek him with all our hearts, we find him. That’s the promise.
Men who spend their lives finding God are quietly transformed from mere men into elders: godly men who know what it means to trust a person when there is no plan to follow; spiritual fathers who enter dark caves that their children run from; Christlike mentors who speak into that darkness with strength instead of control, with gentleness instead of destructive force, and with wisdom that cuts through the confusion to the beauty beyond.
The path to authentic manhood is entered through the narrow gate of single-minded passion to abandon oneself completely to God. The path beyond the gate is the freedom to speak into darkness as one hears and echoes the voice of a well-remembered God.
