Part 14
“If I could preach like So-and-so, what I would accomplish for the Lord!” another says; or, “If I had the money So-and-so has, what I could accomplish for the kingdom!”
“If my circumstances were different, I might hope to do something,” comes from another.
But all these are like the dreamer who says, “Tomorrow I will do great things,” and yet today he does nothing.
Make the Best of Yourself.
You will always be yourself. You can never be any one else. If you ever accomplish anything, it will be through those powers and abilities you now possess. It is of no use to lament that you are not as somebody else is; it is of no use to envy another’s talents. You are only yourself. You might as well face that fact, and endeavor to make the best possible use of the gifts you have. They may look very small compared with those of some others, but they are all you have. Time spent in troubling yourself because you are not greater is worse than wasted. The question is, Shall I improve and make use of what I have?
Man is capable of great development. Eye, hand, strength, mind, will—in fact, the whole man may, by proper efforts, be taught and developed, and expanded until he becomes something very different from what he was at first. The blessing of God will help us much, but that will not take the place of our own determined and persevering efforts.
Have you ever attempted to develop yourself? Do not think that because your abilities now seem small they never can be greater. You were only a child once. You did not think that you never would be larger. You looked eagerly forward to the time when you would be as large as grown-up people. Each day you ate and drank and breathed and exercised—the very things that would produce the growth that you desired. You used what you had of energy and strength, and thus increased them. We ought to be as wise in spiritual things as in natural things. Paul said to Timothy, “Neglect not the gift that is in thee.”
You must make use of what you have, then God will bestow more. But he can not bestow more until you use with your might what you have. You are, so to speak, the raw material of what you may be. What you will be depends on the use you make of this material. The responsibility for the final product lies with you. Develop your mind, develop your soul, develop patience, courage, faith, loyalty, justice, benevolence, endurance, cheerfulness, determination, diligence, industry, and all those other qualities that make up real Christian manhood and that are the foundation of success in life. If you lack the will to try and keep trying, you will see yourself always a failure. Decide to be your best and do your best. If you will do this by God’s help, you will not fail.
Use Wisely What You Have.
Israel was oppressed. The Philistines had taken the Israelites’ swords and spears, in fact, swept the country bare of armor. Shamgar had not much to fight with. He had no sword nor spear, no shield, no helmet. The Philistines were coming; something must be done. There was the ox-goad, but what would that amount to against swords and spears? It was all the weapon he had. But he had something else; he had courage, determination, and faith. So he started straight for the host of enemies, and we are told that he slew “six hundred men with an ox-goad: and he also delivered Israel” (Judges 3: 31). He had only an ox-goad, but he used it manfully. Had he not done so, Israel would not have been delivered.
David, when he went against Goliath, had only his home-made sling and a few stones from the brook. But he went up to battle with unshaken faith in God. He had not much to start with in the way of weapons, but he had the courage to use what he did have. And he is famous to this day as Israel’s deliverer.
Samson had only a jaw-bone, but he did not stop a moment to lament that fact. He did have the three things necessary in himself—courage, determination, and faith. And we are told that the Spirit of the Lord came mightily upon him. The result was he slew a thousand of his enemies, and put the rest to flight. Have you not as much equipment as any of these men had? But the results of their efforts were glorious. If you think you have but little to use for God, just add to it courage, determination, and faith, and go ahead. You will find that the Spirit of the Lord will make you mighty. Do not worry because you have so little to give; just be sure you give what you can. Do not worry because you seem to have so little ability, or so little time, or so little opportunity; but do not fail to use what you have. Make the best of them.
Use Your Environment.
It is of no use to say, “If my surroundings were different,” or “If I were in some other place, then I could do better.” Possibly you could, but that is not the question. Are you doing what you can in your present environment? If you can change your environment for the better, do it. If you can not, then decide to do your best where you are.
You may dream of ideal conditions, but you will not find them in this world. Whether you succeed or fail depends less on your environment than it does on yourself. If you will be true to the best that is in you, your environment will not have the influence that you imagine it will. Favorable circumstances never take the place of soul-qualities. Develop your soul-qualities, and you will be master of your environment. You need not let it master you. Be your best, and do your best, in your place. Make the best of your situation. There is a way for you to succeed, no matter what is against you. God will help you find that way if you are determined to find it. Never permit yourself to spend time in lamentation over yourself or your circumstances. Keep the following thought and determination ever before you: “I will make the best of myself and my circumstances.” This is the true and only road to success.
TALK THIRTY-NINE. WHERE THE JOY IS
A sister wrote to me recently desiring me to tell her how she might find sweetness and joy in her trials. She seemed to have in her mind an ideal experience in which she could be joyous and calm and sweetly contented while undergoing trials, and she was struggling to attain to her ideal.
This sister is not alone in her reaching out after such an experience. People often chide and condemn themselves because they have not attained to such heights. When they suffer and are distressed in their trials, they think there is something wrong with their experience, and they become discouraged. The Bible lifts the standard just to the place where it ought to be; and if we have a higher ideal, we are sure to be constantly coming short of it.
My answer to the sister was that she was looking in the wrong place for the sweetness and joy. Jesus is our example, and we can expect trials to have the same effect upon us as they had upon him. In that dark hour of trial in Gethsemane, with the heavy weight of the cross already upon his spirit, did he say to his disciples, “Behold, how joyful I am in such awful circumstances”? Ah, no! his state was very different, and we hear him say, “My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death.” He was “a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.” When he hung upon the cross, he cried out in agony, “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?” Do you think there was joy or sweetness in that? Such feelings had no place in his emotions that day. But there was joy connected with these trials. We read that “for the joy that was set before him, he endured the cross” (Heb. 12: 2). Here we have endurance and joy, but we do not find them together: the endurance is present; the joy is “set before him.” This is the order in which such things come to us. Christ’s joy came, not from his sufferings, but from the result of these sufferings. His joy is in the redeemed souls that have been saved through his sufferings.
Our own trials will of necessity mean suffering, and there can be little joy in suffering. Joy never has its direct origin in suffering; but it does often come out of suffering, or as a result of enduring suffering. The order in which it works is clearly seen in Heb. 12: 11—“Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous: nevertheless _afterward_ it yieldeth the peaceable fruit of righteousness.” This is what you may expect—grievousness in time of trial and chastening, and afterward the reaping of joy. The Bible speaks of our being “in heaviness through manifold temptations,” and also says, “We count them happy which endure.” Enduring implies suffering; and suffering, of itself, can never be joyful. We might, in a figure, say that suffering is the soil in which the tree of patient endurance grows, and that joy is the ripened fruit of the tree.
There are many different kinds of trials, and they have different effects. Sometimes they are like a great storm that sweeps over the soul, when the dashing rain obscures all view of the distant landscape and its beauties, when the howling of the wind, the flashing of the lightning, and the rolling of the thunder shuts out everything else and holds our entire attention. It is only when the storm is over and the calm has come, that we can look out again upon the broad and peaceful landscape. There are other trials that remind one of a nail in one’s shoe: everywhere one goes, it is present, irritating, annoying, torturing. It hinders and detracts from all the common pleasures of life.
When trials come, there is just one proper way to meet them; that is, with determination to overcome them and to keep our integrity during the time that we are suffering under them. It was the joy set before Jesus that made him strong to suffer. And so we, if we would be strong for our trials, must look beyond them to the joy that is set before us. It is what is coming out of the trials that is the source of our rejoicing. If you have endured some trial—something that took real courage and fortitude—and you look back upon it and realize that you stood true, that you did not yield nor falter, is it not a source of great joy to your soul? When you see the grace that God gave you, does it not strengthen and encourage you?
You desire the peaceful fruit of righteousness in your life; you want joy, peace, victory; but remember that these are the “afterwards” of patient endurance through the trial or chastening. You must wait for the fruit to ripen. If you try to enjoy it before it is ripe, you may find it works like eating a green persimmon—you not only will spoil the fruit, but will find some unpleasant consequences.
There are certain kinds of trials that bring forth joy quickly if they are met in the right spirit. We read that the early Christians “took joyfully the spoiling of their goods,” and again that they “rejoiced that they were counted worthy” to suffer for the name of Christ. This was persecution. Often we can “rejoice and leap for joy,” not because of the persecution, but because of the fact that great is our reward in heaven. The joy comes from the contemplation of that reward. We suffer the persecution; we rejoice in the reward of our patient endurance.
If we walk close to God, we shall find that in the midst of our trials, even when they are bitter, there is an undercurrent of sweet joyfulness away down in the depths of our souls. The consciousness that we are the Lord’s, that he loves us, and that he is our helper will be sweet in the midst of all our woes. This may sometimes be obscured by doubts and fears for a time, but if we hide away under his wings and trust securely, the harp of joy will sound in our souls though in the tumult of emotions. We may sometimes have to listen carefully, however, to hear the soft, sweet strains of its melody.
Be patient in your trials; endure hardness as a good soldier; keep up the shield of faith; fight the good fight; and in due season your soul will sing triumphant songs of victory, and the joy-bells, pealing out their merry music, will summon God’s people to rejoice with you in your Lord and Savior.
TALK FORTY. BLOWING THE CLOUDS AWAY
I had been passing through a period of sore conflict. For several days I had had gloomy and distressing feelings. I had struggled with all my might against them. I had tried to draw near the Lord and to get special help from him. It was hard to pray, and it seemed that when I prayed no answer came. Discouragement pressed in upon me. I had no idea of giving up the fight, but I knew not what to do next. It seemed that my strength was exhausted by the conflict. As I lay there meditating; it seemed that all at once a quiet voice said to me: “Do not try to blow away the clouds with your feeble breath. If you will be content to wait, the same wind that brought them will carry them away again.”
As the voice spoke I seemed to see myself in a little ravine where I had often been, with a great mass of thick clouds overhead moving slowly along. The lesson that God would get to me illuminated my mind. I saw how foolish it would be to try to blow away those great clouds. All my blowing could not move them an inch. I might strain and struggle, and try until my strength was all gone, but the clouds would not pass away, nor would the sunshine come a moment sooner for all my efforts.
So those spiritual clouds that were hanging so low above me and wrapping me in their somber shadows could not be blown away by my feeble breath. I had nearly worn myself out by my efforts, but had gained nothing at all. I had worried myself, and it was all to no purpose. As I looked back at the beginning of that season of heaviness and darkness, I could not see anything that I had done to bring it; it had just settled down upon me without any apparent reason, just as the clouds in the heavens come over the face of the sky without relation to any act of yours or mine.
Brother, sister, have you not had such experiences in your Christian life? Have not darkness and gloom, heaviness and depression, come over your soul and you could not tell why? You began to question yourself, thinking that surely there must be something wrong. You doubted and wondered; you could not tell why you felt so. Perhaps for several days these feelings persisted. You resisted them. You prayed, you struggled. You searched yourself, but to no avail. The darkness still covered you; the heaviness still pressed you down. Possibly Satan also came with powers of accusation against your soul. You blew with all your might at the clouds, but still they lingered, and your heart was sorely troubled. By and by the clouds passed away, the sunshine came, and your heart sang again. You knew not what carried the clouds away nor what brought the sunshine; nevertheless there it was illuminating, warming, and refreshing you again.
There are many times in our lives when the clouds come through no fault of ours. Nothing that we can do will keep them from coming. No matter how close we live to God, they will sometimes come. We can not hope that our sky will always be clear, but I hope you will get the lesson that God gave me that day, years ago. The same wind that brought that cloud over you will carry it away again.
Do not waste your strength struggling against your feelings; be patient and wait. Do not accuse yourself of having done wrong or of being wrong. Do not take these gloomy feelings as evidence against yourself, any more than you would take the literal shadows of a cloudy day to prove you were not right.
If you have done wrong, God will show you just what the wrong has been, and he will also show you the way out. When the clouds come, then is the time to trust. If in your heart you mean to serve God, you know it, and he knows it. No matter how dark it may become, look up into his face and tell him that you mean to serve him no matter how things look, no matter how you feel. Our emotions are not governed by our wills—we can not feel as we please to feel; but we can be true when we will to be true, and we can wait and trust. We can not control circumstances; we can not help being affected by surrounding influences. These in a great measure rule our feelings. We can keep the citadel of our soul and not allow sin to enter.
Remember this one thing, that all your struggling is only blowing at the clouds. It is easier to struggle than to be quiet and trust, but it profits nothing. In a few days your gloomy feelings and heaviness and darkness will pass away without any effort on your part. It may be longer in passing if you struggle against it. Just trust and wait; don’t try to take the wind’s task; let it do its own work. Then, when the sunshine comes again, you will not be worn out, but will be fresh and vigorous for the tasks that lie before you.
TALK FORTY-ONE. HOW TO FERTILIZE LOVE
Love is the greatest thing in earth or heaven. Out of it flows most of the things that are worth while in life. Love of relatives, love of friends, and love of the brethren (1 John 3: 14) make life worth living. There is no heart so empty as the heart that is without love. There is no life so joyful as the love-filled life. Love puts a song in the heart, a sparkle in the eye, a smile on the lips, and makes the whole being glad. And God’s love is greater than all else. He who has God’s love has a continual feast. There may be sorrow and care and suffering in the life; but if there is love, it lightens all these.
Sometimes there is not the love for the relatives that there ought to be. Sometimes there is not the love for the brethren that should characterize us. When we realize this and feel our lack, the question naturally arises, “How can my love for them be increased?” Plants can not grow without fertility; that is, the soil must contain the elements necessary to growth. If these are absent, they must be supplied, or there can be no harvest. This is equally true of love; it must be fertilized if it is to grow. Do you realize that you are lacking in love for some one? Do you manifest as much affection toward your conjugal companion as you did in days gone by?
There are very many things that may choke out love in the home. One of these is the lack of kindness. If you have grown less kind in your feelings, in your actions, and in your words, love can not thrive. Kindness is one of the best fertilizers for love. Do you show the same consideration for the feelings and tastes of your companion as you used to show? There are so many people who have two sets of tones in which to speak, and two sets of manners in which they act. They have their company manners and their family manners. When they have company, the voice is soft and pleasant, the manners are agreeable and kindly. They treat their friends with the greatest consideration; but as soon as their friends are gone, the pleasant voice changes into crossness or harshness and faultfinding, and the pleasantness of manner disappears. In how many homes is this true! The greater consideration, the greater kindness, is due the home folks. Otherwise, love can not flourish. If you wish to have love for your home folks, you must show them the consideration that is due them.
Some professors of religion are like the catbird. When it is away from its nest, it is one of the sweetest of the northern warblers, and so it is often called the northern mocking-bird; but when it is close to its nest, you will hear only a harsh, discordant note. It has no sweetness in its voice while at its nest. Some people reserve all their kindness, tenderness, and sweetness for those outside the family circle. Is it any wonder that love dies in such a home? If you realize you do not love some one enough, begin to consider his desires. Begin to show a special interest in him. Watch for opportunities to be kind to him. Try especially to be agreeable, and you will soon find that this reacts upon yourself; in a short time you will find your love increasing; and the more you follow this course, the more your love will increase.
I have been asked if we should love all saints the same. Some have even taught that if we were right in our souls we would love one of God’s children as much as another. This, however, is not possible. Even Jesus loved some of his disciples more than others. There were three—James, Peter, and John—who were closer to him than the others; and of these, John was most beloved. He calls himself “that disciple whom Jesus loved.” If love for the brethren depended solely on spiritual things, then, possibly we might love all the same; but it depends to a great extent on other things as well. Jesus loved John much because of John’s loving nature. We love those most who seem to us most lovable. We are drawn most to those whose dispositions and characters and interests appeal most strongly to us. There are those who are saved, who, because of their faults or unlovely dispositions, repel us rather than attract us. We will not find ourselves drawn into the same close relations with them as with the others. There is danger of a twofold nature. On the one hand, we are liable to love some so much that we become partial towards them to such an extent that others will feel that we do not value them as we should. On the other hand, there is danger of looking at the unlovely qualities in another until we lose sight of the good that is in him, and grow prejudiced against him until it becomes hard to feel the proper love for him.