The Broken Pot – How to Overcome the Fear of Failure

Clank! A pot – or something that kind of resembled a pot – was set down on Otto’s makeshift desk. Right on top of his open journal. Not again. He gripped the pen that was in his hand just a little tighter as he looked up from his work.

A short man stood on the other side of the desk. He was smiling; his ‘white’ teeth a stark contrast to the dark face.

"My wife say you fix this." The man said.

At least, Otto was pretty sure that was what he had said. He took a deep breath, gritted his teeth, and reached for the rusted, battered, and badly burned object.  

Everyday!  He thought to himself.  Everyday, without fail, and always just when I sit down to get some real work done!  He looked the pot over - sticking his finger right through a hole that had corroded through the side. This thing is no good! Don't they know what garbage is? 

He knew they didn't. In fact, it was likely that the man or his wife had gotten this pot out of someone's garbage pile in the first place.

He looked up and met the man's eyes again. "No... good." He said, laboriously choosing each words needed to convey his meaning. “I...can't...fix…this.”

Apparently, he thought of the right words for the man's smile disappeared.

"You're no Christian!" The man shouted, throwing the pot to the floor of the little porch on which they stood.

Otto didn’t have to guess the meaning of his words. He had heard that phrase so many times in the last few days that he had it memorized. It was the new response that the natives used whenever he didn't do what they asked him to. They were accusing him of being a hypocrite. Accusing him of preaching something he didn’t practice. Accusing him of not helping them. Yet he hadn't added a single word to his list in over a week because he had been too busy helping them. Besides that, he was doing this language study to help them! The whole point was to learn the language so he could translate the gospel for them.

 With this in mind, Otto was very tempted to shout something back – something that would have been just as nasty. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he couldn't seem to remember any insulting words. He had heard the natives shout all sorts of curses at each other, but the phrases never seemed to come to mind when he needed them. With his luck - and God's intervention - he probably would have ended up complimenting the man rather than insulting him anyway. In addition to that problem, he had another - a nagging feeling that they were right.

The man stomped away, leaving Otto alone with the familiar feeling of being a failure. He glanced down at the rust-streaked, but otherwise blank page and the feeling only increased. How he hated that feeling - that feeling of working his hardest and yet getting nowhere! He could just imagine what the missionary board would say when they saw this month’s report. If he ever got around to writing it that was. He would have to say something like: No progress on the language studies. No closer to starting the translation of John. Have been too busy fixing broken pots, busted shovels, bent machetes, and a rusted harmonica. Otto couldn’t help but laugh aloud at his imaginary report, despite how pitiful it sounded.

He rose from his chair, picked up the sorry-looking, little pot at his feet and turned it over in his hands…

Otto Koning had come to Irian Jaya, Papua New Guinea to be a missionary and he wasn’t keen on failing that assignment. His job was to win the people over to Jesus. Or, more specifically, to do language studies, keep books, report to the mission board, preach the gospel, and translate the book of John into the native tongue. It was not to spend all his time fixing broken pots, busted shovels, bent machetes, or rusted harmonicas.

Otto had a predetermined vision of what his job in Papua New Guinea should look like and, because of this, he could clearly identify success and he could clearly define failure. But for some reason success always seemed to be out of his reach and failure was constantly frustrating him.  

Most of us, at some point or another, have felt what Otto was struggling with. You know where you need to go, or what you need to do, and yet - try as you might - you just can’t seem to get there! It doesn’t seem to matter how hard we try or how many times we go back to the drawing board because for some reason we’re just bound to fail.

What do we do in that kind of a situation? Well, it seems like there are three options: We can throw in the hat. Quit. Give up. And then try to console ourselves in self-pity. Or we can keep trying. Fight an uphill battle. Be persistent and refuse to ever give up. Or we can choose the third option. We can re-evaluate. We can ask God if our definition of success and our definition of failure is matching His.

Throughout all of his growing-up years, Otto’s dad had told him that he would never amount to anything. He wanted to prove him wrong. He wanted to be a good missionary - to do his job well. Was there anything so bad about that? 

Not really. But what if God’s definition of Otto doing his job well was different from Otto’s definition? What if being a good missionary looked different than what Otto pictured? What if God had a different definition of what it meant to ‘amount to something’ than Otto’s dad had laid out? What if Otto was off in his understanding of what success was? And what if we are too?

The missionary’s assignment was a good one – to win the people over to Jesus. That was done through language studies, book translations, and gospel preaching not through fixing broken-down, no good junk. Right?

Wrong. Otto’s job was to share the gospel and it was just possible that serving the natives by fixing their stuff might do that more effectively than translating the book of John could. Not fixing their stuff didn’t seem to be getting him very far, so Otto decided to put it to the test. He began fixing broken pots, busted shovels, bent machetes, and rusted harmonicas and he did so willingly.

A short time later his supervisor paid him a visit to see how the ministry was getting along. Otto braced himself for the worst. He was dejected. He was miserable - ready to be chided for wasting time. To be excused. Sent home. Deemed a failure as he had feared. The man said,

“What have you been doing!”

 Otto tried to think of some way to explain himself but, a moment later, he found that he wouldn’t have to.

“Otto,” his supervisor continued, “you are ten years ahead of every other missionary we have!”

Otto was incredulous! Apparently, God had a plan in fixing broken pots. Perhaps, He had placed a value even in that rusted harmonica; choosing it to accomplish His purposes!

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your paths.” (Proverbs iii.5-6)

How many of us have a pre-determined definition of success? How often do we think that we know what will and won’t get us where we need to go? Do you deem anything that deviates from your plan to be a failure? Do you lean your own understanding, rather than acknowledging God? 

What if true failure isn’t deviating from our plans, but refusing to accept His?

The greatest failure of all is the failure to accept the gift of God – Jesus and the sacrifice He became upon the cross to purchase our salvation. You can have all the success in the world, but if you fail in that one point, success is empty. It means nothing and will vanish away. In the same way, we can try to achieve whatever we want – even try to achieve it for God –  but if it isn’t what He desires for us, if it isn’t where He leads us, what good will it be?

The fear of failure can be overcome simply by choosing to trust fully in the person of our Lord  - not just for eternity but in every day He gives. The exciting news is - He never fails.

“He who calls you is faithful, who also will do it.” (I Thessalonians v.24)

In Christ

quiana

Even the Fleas - Kaitlyn Tells a Story of Corrie and Betsy Ten Boom

Most of us learned that we should be thankful when we were just kids. We were often reminded to 'say thank-you' and 'be grateful' and for many of us, thankfulness became just another of the many manners that we were expected to use. But the command to be thankful doesn't just come from our parents or a social standard - it comes from God. And thankfulness doesn't just benefit the one who we thank - God made it to benefit us, as the ones who are doing the thanking as well.  In 1 Thessalonians v. 16 - 18 we find that it is actually part of God's will for our lives that we be thankful. The verse reads, "Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you."

 Paul writes that God's very will for our lives can be summarised in these three commands. So shouldn't we be actively practising them? Are we praying, rejoicing, and giving thanks with as much, and more, diligence as we invest into our jobs, relationships, or schooling? We pour our self into these responsibilities when they are only our will for our lives, but prayer, rejoicing, and thanksgiving is the will of God Himself for us.

 In August 20th's post, Did God Really Say?, we looked at what it means to pray without ceasing and in August 28th's post, Choosing Joy, we learned how Richard Wurmbrand applied the principle of rejoicing always. But what about thanksgiving? How can we give thanks in all circumstances? Why should we give thanks in all circumstances? I have the privilege today of sharing with you an article that was written by a friend of mine and a fellow blogger, Kaitlyn Donihue. Kaitlyn originally wrote this article for her blog, Simply Devoted, I was very encouraged by her thoughts on thanksgiving and asked if she would allow me to share this article with you. I sincerely hope it blesses you as it blessed me!

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When we hear the word thanksgiving, many of us tend to think of a holiday rather than of an activity that we should be continually doing. Throughout Scripture, we are repeatedly commanded to give thanks.

Ephesians 5:18-21 says, “And do not be drunk with wine, in which is dissipation; but be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord, giving thanks always for all things to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, submitting to one another in the fear of God.”

In this passage, we are told not to be drunk with wine but instead to be filled with the Holy Spirit. The passage then goes on to describe what being filled with the Holy Spirit will look like in the life of a believer. Giving thanks for everything is on that list.

If we are truly living a Spirit-filled life we will give thanks for everything.This is hard to comprehend and even harder to live out. There are so many circumstances in daily life that are difficult to thank God for. Thanking God in every circumstance seems plausible but are we really to thank God for every circumstance?

Corrie Ten Boom lived in Holland during world war two. She and her sister Betsy were arrested and put into a concentration camp because they had hidden Jews in their home and aided them in fleeing the Nazis.

Concentration Camps were horrific places. It is hard to imagine thanking God for anything to do with them.

However, Corrie and Betsy Ten Boom were surrendered to their precious Lord Jesus. Therefore when they arrived at the concentration camp the first thing they did was to begin thanking God.

They thanked God that they had been put in prison together. They thanked God for the cramped conditions because they would be able to share the gospel with more people. Then Betsy began to thank God for the fleas. Corrie was incredulous.

“Why on earth would you thank God for fleas?” She asked Betsy.

“Because” Betsy replied “the bible says to thank God in all circumstances, not just pleasant circumstances.”

Corrie was troubled. As hard as she tried she could not bring herself to thank God for something as disgusting as fleas.

As the weeks went by the sisters were surprised by the lack of supervision. The guards never came into the barracks, which allowed them to hold Bible studies and talk openly about Christ. One day they mentioned their surprise to a fellow prisoner.

Chuckling she said, “it’s because of the fleas. The guards won’t come into the barracks because they don’t want to be covered in fleas.”

Romans 8:28, a passage with which many of us are very familiar says, “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

This is why we as Christians can thank God for every circumstance. God is so big, so mighty, so powerful that no matter how horrible any given circumstance is He can turn it for the good of His church. We can thank God for every circumstance, because we can trust Him.

In Christ

kaitlyn

The Game of the Royal Way - Part 5: Laundry Soap, Toothpaste, and Razor Blades

In the last post, Without Reserve, we saw Andrew and four of his fellow students assigned an experiment in faith. They travelled around Scotland, living and ministering, for a whole month, on a sum of just five pounds. The experiment tested their faith, tried it, and proved it to be true. 

“With this kind of experience behind me, I was not really surprised to find waiting for me when we got back to school a check from the Whestras that was exactly enough, when converted into pounds, to pay my second terms fee.” - Brother Andrew, God's Smuggler

Andrew had made an agreement with God, he had agreed to say “yes” to whatever God asked of him. He had agreed to trust God to remove every hindrance and in each circumstance to make a way for him to obey. He had come to realise that this agreement was simply faith. Faith was trusting God implicitly and obedience was the practical demonstration of that trust in each situation.

 His tuition fees provided the first practical opportunity for Andrew to put his faith into practice. Andrew was sure that God had led him to come to the WEC school, but he had only enough savings to pay for the first semester and no way of making the rest of the money while he was there. He had gone, nevertheless, trusting that God would supply the rest of the fees as they were needed. He had prayed, *“Lord, I need to know that I can trust You in the practical things. I thank You for letting me earn the fees for the first semester. I ask You now to supply the rest of them.” (see The Question of His Character).  

“Before the second term was over, I had received enough money to keep me a third, this time from – of all places – some buddies at the veteran’s hospital. And so, it went through the second year too.

I never mentioned the school fees to anyone, and yet the gifts always came at such a moment that I could pay them in full and on time. Nor did they ever contain more than the school costs, and – in spite of the fact that the people who were helping me did not know one another – they never came two together. I was experiencing God’s faithfulness continually, and I was also finding out something about His sense of humor. I had made a covenant with God never to run out of money for school fees. My covenant had said nothing about running out of soap. Or toothpaste. Or razor blades.

One morning I discovered that I was out of laundry soap. But when I reached into the drawer where I kept my money, all I could find was six-pence. Laundry soap cost eight-pence.

“You know that I have to keep clean, God. So, will You work it out about the two pennies?” I took my sixpence and made my way to the street where the shops were, and sure enough, right away I saw a sign. ‘Two-pence off! By your SURF now.’ I walked in, made my savings, and strolled back up the hill whistling. There was plenty of soap in that box to last, with care, until the end of school. But that very night a friend saw me washing out a shirt and shouted,

“Say, Andrew, lend me some soap, will you? I’m out.”

Of course, I let him have the soap and said nothing. I just watched him pour out my precious Surf, knowing somehow that he wasn’t going to pay it back. Everyday he borrowed a bit more of that soap, and everyday I had to use a bit less.

Then it was the toothpaste. The tube was really finished. Squeezed, twisted, torn apart, and scraped – finished. I had read somewhere that common table salt makes a good dentifrice. And no doubt my teeth got clean, but my mouth wore a permanent pucker.

And razor blades. I had not thrown away my used blades and sure enough the day came when I had to resurrect them. I had no hone, so I stropped them on my bare arm. Ten minutes a day on my bare skin: I remained clean shaven – but it was at a price. Perhaps God was using these experiences to teach me the difference between a want and a need. Toothpaste tasted good, new razor blades shaved quicker – but these were luxuries, not necessities. I was certain that should a real need arise, God would supply it.

A true need did arise. It was necessary for foreigners in Britain to renew their visas at periodic intervals. I had to have mine renewed by the thirty-first of December, 1954, or leave the country. But when that month rolled around, I did not have a cent to my name. How was I going to get the forms down to London? A registered letter cost one shilling – twelve pennies. I did not believe that God was going to let me be thrown out of school for the lack of a shilling.

And so, the game moved into a new phase. I had a name for it now. I called it the Game of the Royal Way. I had discovered that when God supplied money, He did it in a kingly manner, not in a groveling way.

Three separate times, over the matter of that registered letter, I was almost lured from the Royal Way. I was, that last year, head of the student body and in charge of the school’s tract fund. One day my eye lit first on the calendar – it was the twenty- eighth of December – and then on the fund. It happened to contain several pounds just then. Surely it would be all right to borrow just one shilling. And surely not! I quickly put the idea behind me.

Then it was the twenty-ninth of December. Two days left. I had almost forgotten how bitter salt tasted and how long it took to strop a razor blade on my arm, so intrigued was I over the drama of the shilling. That morning the thought occurred to me that perhaps I might find those pennies lying on the ground. I had actually put on my coat and started down the street before I saw what I was doing. I was walking along with the head bowed, eyes on the ground, searching the gutter for pennies. What kind of a Royal Way is this! I straightened up and laughed out loud there on the busy street. I walked back to school with my head high, but no closer to getting the money.

The last round in the game was the subtlest of all. It was December 30. I had to have my application in the mail that day if it was to get to London on the thirty-first. At ten o’clock in the morning, one of the students shouted up the stairwell that I had a visitor. I ran down the stairs thinking that this must be my delivering angel. But when I saw who it was, my heart dropped. This visitor wasn’t coming to bring me money; he was coming to ask for it. For it was Richard, a friend I had made months ago in the slums, he was a young man who came to the school occasionally when he just had to have cash.

With dragging feet, I went outside. Richard stood on the white-pebbled pathway, his hands in his pockets, eyes lowered.

“Andrew,” he said, “would you be having a little extra cash? I’m hungry.”

I laughed and told him why. I told him about the soap and the razor blades, and as I spoke, I saw the coin. It lay among the pebbles, the sun glinting off it in just such a way that I could see it but Richard could not. I could tell from the colour that it was a shilling. Instinctively I stuck out my foot and covered the coin with my shoe. Then as Richard and I talked, I reached down and picked up the coin along with a handful of pebbles. I tossed the pebbles down one by one, aimlessly, until at last I had just the shilling in my hand. But even as I dropped the coin in my pocket, the battle began.

That coin meant I could stay in school. I wouldn’t be doing Richard a favor by giving it to him: he’d spend it on drink and be thirsty as ever in an hour. While I was still thinking up excellent arguments, I knew it was no good. How could I judge Richard when Christ told me so clearly that I must not. Furthermore, this was not the Royal Way! What right had an ambassador to hold on to money when another of the King’s children stood in front of him saying he was hungry. I shoved my hand back into my pocket and drew out the silver coin.

“Look, Richard,” I said, “I do have this. Would it help any?”

Richard’s eyes lit up. “It would, mate.” He tossed the coin into the air and ran off down the hill. With a light heart that told me I had done the right thing, I turned to go back inside.

Before I reached the door, the postman turned down our walk. In the mail of course was a letter for me. I knew when I saw Greetje’s handwriting that it would be from the prayer group at Ringer’s and that there would be cash inside. There was. A lot of money: a pound and a half – thirty shillings. Far more than enough to send my letter, buy a large box of soap, treat myself to my favourite toothpaste, and buy Gillete Supers instead of Blues.

The game was over. The King had done it His way.” - Brother Andrew, God's Smuggler

Andrew was learning about faith. That was what the Game of the Royal Way was all about. That was what the teaching at the WEC missionary school was all about. He had learned that faith was inextricably tied to obedience. That faith gave God an opportunity to be faithful. He had learned that who it was that his faith was placed in and that He was worthy of that faith. He had learned that faith must be without doubting. All this he had learned, re-learned, and would continue to learn for years to come.

 In Luke xviii.8, Jesus asked a question. He said, “When the Son of Man comes, will He really find faith on the earth?” That is a question that we should be asking ourselves on a regular basis. Will He find faith in the earth? Will He find faith in us? It should be our desire that He would. Though, like Andrew, we may need to learn what faith is, we should desire it. We need to play the Game of the Royal Way and allow the Holy Spirit to train us in faith - in what it is, how to get it, and how it works. To teach us those lessons multiple times if necessary. Starting now... 

What is faith, how do we get it, and how does it work?

“Your idea of faith, I suppose, has been something like this. You have looked upon it as in some way a sort of thing, either a religious exercise of soul, or an inward, gracious disposition of heart – something tangible, in fact, which, when you have it, you can look at and rejoice over, and use as a passport to God’s favour, or a coin with which to purchase His gifts…Faith, in fact, is not the least this sort of thing. It is nothing at all tangible. It is simply believing God.”- Hannah Whitall Smith, The Christian’s Secret to a Happy Life

Faith is simply trusting in God. It is not something that is found, made, or conjured up. It is not some sort of a virtue, attribute, or wishful thinking. It is simply trust. Absolute, unshakeable trust. Complete and total confidence in the person of God, Himself. This trust is gained through knowing God. 

“Like sight, faith is nothing apart from its object…You see something and thus know you have sight; you believe something and thus know that you have faith. For as sight is only seeing, faith is only believing. As the only necessary thing about seeing is, that you see the thing as it is, so the only necessary thing about believing is that you believe the thing as it is. The virtue does not lie in your believing, but in the thing that you believe. If you believe the truth you are saved; if you believe a lie you are lost. The believing in both cases is the same; the things believed in are exactly opposite, and it is this which makes the mighty difference. Salvation comes, not because your faith saves you, but because it links you to the Saviour who saves. Faith is really nothing but the link.”- Hannah Whitall Smith, The Christian’s Secret to a Happy Life

In, The Question of His Character, I gave an illustration of a bedsheet and a parachute to demonstrate the importance of what you trust, or have faith, in. The parachute could not save you unless you trusted in it. But the bedsheet could not save you no matter how much you trust it. Thus, we see that the object in which our faith is placed is of the utmost importance. In John xi.25 Jesus said, “He who believes in Me, though he may die, he shall live.” We believe in Him. We trust in the One who is worthy of trust. Jesus Christ is the parachute – the only one who is able to save us. To save us from the penalty of sin and from its power in each day. The only one who can provide all that we need for life and godliness.

 Faith is simply that which links us to Him. Yet it is of the utmost importance for we must be linked to Him! Faith has to be present for God to work on our behalf, just as trust must be present for a parachute to work. The parachute needs to be picked up, buckled on, and the string that will deploy it needs to be pulled after the person has jumped. All of these actions - obedience to the instructions of the parachute - are practical demonstrations of faith. In this way faith and obedience are inextricably linked. The parachute will not work unless it is trusted, and trust will not work unless it is put into action. This is what James ii.17 tells us, when we read “faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” Each time that Andrew needed to have faith that faith was accompanied by a practical action. To take a step forward, to walk to the evening meeting, to bring his needs before God alone, to refuse to take the money he needed from the tract fund, to give away the shilling after he found it. Had Andrew confessed to have faith, said he trusted God, but not followed through in action it would have done no good. For his faith would have been of no use. If it could have been called faith at all, it would be, as we see in James, a dead faith. The same is true when faith is countered by doubt. Anyone can say they have faith, but those who really do will prove it in and through their actions.

God desires to find faith in the earth. He is willing to teach us the same lessons that Andrew learned and He has invited each one of us to start playing the Game of the Royal Way. To choose obedience. To learn trust. To know Him and to see His faithfulness. To re-learn those lessons over and over until we truly walk in the Royal Way He has set before us. The question is, will we even begin to play? Or are we content to always live saying "yes, but" to God. To live like the hint missionaries, who claimed that their faith was in God though it was really placed in the offering plat. Or like the group who held onto the tithe - in case of an emergency- instead of holding onto God in the case of an emergency.

 When the Son of Man comes, will He really find faith not just in the earth but in you and I?

In Christ

quiana

* Quotes, excerpts, and facts have been taken from Brother Andrew's book God's Smuggler

The Game of the Royal Way - Part 4: Without Reserve

“You’re going to like this, Andy,” said Mr. Dinnen. “It’s an exercise in trust. The rules are simple. Each student on your team is given a one-pound bank note. With that you go on a missionary tour through Scotland. You’re expected to pay your own transportation, your own lodging, your food, any advertising you want to do, the renting of halls, providing refreshments…”

“All on a one-pound note?”

“Worse than that. When you get back to school after four weeks, you’re expected to pay back the pound!”

I laughed. “Sounds like we’ll be passing the hat all the time.”

“Oh no, you’re not aloud to take up collections! Never. You’re not to mention money at any of your meetings. All of your needs have to be met without any manipulation on your part – or the experiment is a failure.”*

When Andrew had learned that the WEC missionary training school sent their students out without financial support he instantly began to question if that was where he should go. Memories of the missionaries who had held meetings in Witte, the town where he had grown up, flooded his thoughts. These men had claimed to live by faith but the people of Witte knew that they lived not by faith, but by the collections they took up. They called such men ‘hint missionaries’ for, though they never came right out and asked for money, they were always hinting at it. The way those men lived seemed grubby and undignified to Andrew. If Christ were a King, such ambassadors did not give a good report of His treasury. Andrew thought that the only solution to the hints and collections was to have financial support secured ahead of time. This is why he was hesitant to join a school that sent their students out without provision. But God had asked him to obey without question (see The Predetermined "Yes") so he had laid down this qualm along with the rest. He was resigned to obey even if that meant living as a ‘hint missionary’.

 Now Andrew wondered if, perhaps, there was still another way of getting provision. Perhaps a man truly could live by faith – faith that was placed, not in the offering plate, but in God Himself. The idea was soon to be put to the test as Andrew and four other guys set out to live and minister, for a month, on a total of just five pounds. Five pounds that would have to be repaid. The assignment was an interesting one to be sure!

*“I tried to reconstruct where our funds came from during those four weeks and it was hard to. It seems that what we needed was always just there. Sometimes a letter would arrive from one of the boy’s parents with a little money. Sometimes we would get a cheque in the mail from a church we had visited days or weeks earlier. The notes that came with these gifts were always interesting.

“I know you don’t need money or you would have mentioned it,” someone would write, “but God just wouldn’t let me get to sleep tonight until I had put this in an envelope for you.”

Contributions frequently came in the form of produce. In one little town, in the highlands of Scotland, we were given six hundred eggs. We had eggs for breakfast, eggs for lunch, and eggs as hors d’oeuvres before a dinner of eggs with an egg-white meringue for dessert. It was weeks before we could look a chicken in the eye.

…There were times before the end of the tour, however, when it looked as though the experiment was failing. One weekend we were holding meetings in Edinburgh. We had attracted a large group of young people the first day and were casting about for a way to get them to come back the next. Suddenly, without consulting anyone, one of the team members stood up and made an announcement.

“Before the meeting tomorrow evening,” he said, “we’d like you all to have tea with us here at four o’clock. How many think they can make it?”

A couple dozen hands went up and we were committed.

At first, instead of being delighted, the rest of us were horrified. All of us knew that we had no tea, no cake, no bread and butter, and exactly five cups. Nor did we have money to buy these things: our last penny had gone to rent the hall. This was going to be a real test of God’s care.

For a while it looked as though He was going to provide everything through the young people themselves. After the meeting several of them came forward and said they would like to help. One offered milk; another, half a pound of tea; another, sugar. One girl even offered to bring dishes. Our tea was rapidly taking shape. But there was one thing still missing – the cake. Without cake, these Scottish boys and girls wouldn’t consider tea tea.

So that night in our evening prayer time, we put the matter before God. “Lord, we’ve got ourselves into a spot. From somewhere we’ve got to get a cake. Will You help us?”

That night as we rolled up in our blankets on the floor of the hall, we played guessing games: How was God going to give us that cake? Among the five of us, we guessed everything imaginable, or so we thought.

Morning arrived. We half expected a heavenly messenger to come to our door bearing a cake. But no one came. The morning mail arrived. We ripped open the two letters, hoping for money. There was none. A woman from a nearby church came by to see if she could help. “Cake,” was on the tip of all our tongues, but we swallowed the word and shook our heads.

“Everything,” we assured her, “is in God’s hands.”

The tea had been announced for four o’clock in the afternoon. At three the tables were set, but still we had no cake. Three -thirty came. We put the water on to boil. Three-forty-five. It was then that the doorbell rang.

All of us together ran to the big front entrance, and there was the postman. In his hand was a large box.

“Hello lads,” said the postman. “Got something for you that feels like a food package.” He handed the box to one of the boys. “The delivery day is over, actually,” he said, “but I hate to leave a perishable package overnight.”

We thanked him profusely, and the minute he closed the door the boy solemnly handed me the box. “It’s for you, Andrew. From a Mrs. Hopkins in London.” 

I took the package and carefully unwrapped it. Off came the twine. Off came the brown outside paper. Inside, there was no note – only a large white box. Deep in my soul I knew that I could afford the drama of lifting the lid slowly. As I did, there, in perfect condition, to be admired by five sets of wondering eyes, was an enormous, glistening, moist, chocolate cake.”

The experiment was a success and through it the five students learned that God could be trusted. That He could be trusted in practical ways. They learned that God was faithful. But that wasn’t all that they learned. They also had a part to play in the game and that part was to have faith.

*“We stuck fast to two rules: we never mentioned a need aloud, and we gave away a tithe of whatever came to us as soon as we got it – within twenty -four hours if possible.

Another team that set out from the school at the same time as we did was not so strict about tithing. They set aside their ten percent, but they did not give it away immediately, “in case we run into an emergency.”, they reasoned. Of course, they had emergencies! So did we, every day. But they ended their month owing money to hotels, lecture halls, and markets all over Scotland, while we came back to school almost ten pounds ahead. Fast as we could give the money away, God was always swifter, and we ended with money to send to the WEC work overseas.”

The only difference between the two groups, was that Andrew’s group obeyed two rules while the other group did not. The rules were simple – mention your needs to no one but God and give away tithe as soon as it comes to you. What made these rules so important that they could effect outcome of the experiment in such a way? It all had to do with faith…

 “All of your needs have to be met without any manipulation on your part – or the experiment is a failure.” Mr. Dinnen had told Andrew. Andrew knew exactly what Mr. Dinnen meant by manipulation. He had seen it firsthand. The hints of the missionaries who had visited Witte had revealed even to a little boy that they weren’t truly trusting God. They claimed to be but all the while they were asking for the help of others. They had an insurance policy in place just in case God didn’t come through. Andrew had known that, that wasn’t the way faith was meant to work but now he knew why.

In last week’s post, The Question of His Character, we discussed that it is not enough to have faith – you must have faith in the right thing. The ‘hint missionaries’ had faith but it was placed in the collection basket and the generosity of their hearers rather than in God. The other group fully intended to tithe but they held onto that ten percent just in case they should run into an emergency. This too was misplaced faith. As Andrew said, emergencies came. They came for both groups. The difference was that the one group turned to their tithe money to help them while the other turned to God.

When Hudson Taylor was preparing to go to China as a missionary. He knew that he would have no one to rely on there except for God Himself. There would be no one else to tell his needs to, no insurance policy to fall back on. Every need would have to be filled by God alone. In February 26^th post, By Prayer Alone, Hudson put this kind of faith to the test in an experiment similar to Andrew's. Though still in England, near to his family and friends, Hudson decided that he would not mention his needs to anyone other than God. When his bank account was getting low, Andrew prayed about it. When he gave away his last coin and had no way of buying food only two options remained – Hudson would either go hungry or God would provide. It was faith without insurance policies. Faith without doubt.

"But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord;" (James i.6-7)

to be continued

In Christ

quiana

* Quotes, excerpts, and facts have been taken from Brother Andrew's book God's Smuggler

The Game of the Royal Way – Part 3: The Question of His Character

*“The building itself was a tall, two -story house on the corner. A low stone wall ran around the property. I could see the stump-ends of iron railings in it, the fence itself had no doubt been melted for scrap during the war. Over the entrance, on a wooden archway, were the words “Have Faith in God.” This I knew was the main purpose of the two- year course at Glasgow: to help the student learn all he could about the nature of faith. To learn from books. To learn from others. To learn from one’s own encounters. With fresh enthusiasm I walked under the arch and up the white pebbled path to the door.”

It was September of 1953 when Andrew arrived in Glasgow, Scotland. He had come all the way from Holland to learn about faith. It was a subject in which God had already begun to train him and the words of the sign that stood over the path summarized what his next lesson would be.

Have Faith in God. Often we become so concentrated on the first two words of that command that we neglect the second two without even realizing that we are. This mistake renders faith useless. For we have not only to have faith but to have faith in the right thing. Hebrew xi.6 tells us that without faith it is impossible to please God. But it does not stop at that, it goes on to say, “he who comes to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him.” We have not only to believe but to believe something very specific. This tells us that the object of faith is of equal importance to the presence of faith and the two only become pleasing to God when they are coupled together.

In the first post of this series, The Predetermined “Yes”, we talked about the connection that exists between faith and trust. The two terms are synonymous. (I am going to continue explaining the relationship between faith and that which it is placed in but as I do, I want to switch terms from faith to trust. Because the majority of us seem to be more familiar with how trust works than with how faith works.) In terms of trust then, we could say that you have not only to trust, you must trust in something. The object in which your trust is placed is as important as the trust itself. In fact, it is the object of your trust that directly determines the outcome of it. For example, when you jump out of an airplane, it is of the utmost importance what you trust in a parachute to carry you safely to the ground. A parachute will do it, but a bed sheet will not. Now you must trust in the parachute for it to save you, you must put it on, do up all the buckles, and then pull on the string that causes it to open. Without the presence of trust the parachute is unable to save. For this reason, you could rightly say that it was your trust in the parachute which saved you. However, you would also be correct in saying that the parachute saved you. For, if you had put your trust in the bed sheet it would not have saved you. Not even if you had unfolded it, tied its ends around your wrists, and waved it over your head while you were falling. You were save by a combination of trust and what it was placed in. The parachute can not to its job without being trusted, but the bed sheet can not do the parachute’s job no matter how much it is trusted. In this, we see that the trust, if it is to work, can not be separated from the object that is worthy of trust.

In the same way the command to have faith cannot be separated from God Himself.

*“The real purpose of this training,” Mr. Dinnen said, “Is to teach our students that they can trust God to do what He has said He would do. We don’t go from here into the traditional missionary fields, but into new territory. Our graduates are on their own. They can not be effective if they are afraid, or if they doubt that God really means what He says in His word. So here we teach not so much ideas as trusting. I hope this is what you are looking for in a school, Andrew.”

“Yes, sir. Exactly.”

“As for finances – you know of course, Andy, that we charge no tuition. That’s because we have no paid staff. The teachers, the people who run things in London, myself – none of us receive a salary. Room and board and other physical costs for the year come only to ninety pounds – a little over two hundred and fifty dollars. It’s as low as this because the students do the cooking, cleaning, everything themselves. But we do request the ninety pounds in advance. Now, I understand that you will not be able to do this.”

“No, sir.”

“Well, it’s also possible to pay in instalments, thirty pounds at the start of each session. But for your sake and for ours we like to insist that the instalments be paid on time.”

“Yes, sir. I altogether agree.”

I did agree too. This was going to be my first experiment in trusting God for the material needs of life. I had thirty pounds I had brought from Holland for the first semester’s fee. After that I really looked forward to seeing how God was going to supply the money.

But during the first few weeks, something kept happening that bothered me. At mealtimes the students would frequently discuss inadequate funds. Sometimes after a whole night in prayer for a certain need, only half of the request would be granted, or three quarters of it. If an old peoples’ home, for example, where the students conducted services, needed ten blankets, the students would perhaps receive enough to buy six. The Bible said that we were workers in God’s vineyard. Was this the way the Lord of the vineyard payed His hired men?

…I could not understand why this bothered me so. Was I greedy? I didn’t think so. We had always been poor, and I had never worried about it. What was it then?

I realised that the question was not one of money at all. What I was really worried about was a relationship. When I was working at the chocolate factory, I trusted Mr. Ringers to pay me in full and on time. Surely, I said to myself, if an ordinary factory worker could be financially secure, so could one of God’s workers.”

If we go back to the illustration of the bed sheet and the parachute, we saw that it was of great importance that the object in which trust was placed was trustworthy. The trust itself can not equip an object to save you, it can only enable an object that is already equipped to do so. The Christian’s trust or faith is meant to be placed in God. But how do we know if He is worthy of that trust? How do we know that a parachute is worthy of our trust, or that another person is? In relationship with other people, trust comes with knowledge of the person you are trusting. As you get to know someone better you see if you can or can’t trust someone. In the same way, we know that we can trust a parachute because we know about the parachute. We know how it works and why. Trust doesn’t just appear, it is built with knowledge. The same is true of faith. God doesn’t expect us to blindly have faith in Him just because He said to. Rather, He has set about building our faith. He has set about making Himself known. To gain faith in God, we must gain a knowledge of Him.

*“If I was going to give my life as a servant of the King, I had to know that King. What was He like? In what way could I trust Him? In the same way that I trusted a set of impersonal laws? Or could I trust Him as a living leader, as a very present commander in battle? The question was central. Because if He were a King in name only, I would rather go back to the chocolate factory than continue on this way. I would remain a Christian, but I would know that my religion was only a set of principles, excellent and to be followed, but hardly demanding devotion. If, on the other hand, I were to discover God to be a Person, in the sense that He committed and cared and loved and led. That would be something quite different. That was the kind of a King I would follow into any battle.”

It is here that the question of God’s character becomes of the utmost importance. We not only need to know to have faith in God, we need to know the God we have faith in.  Leonard Ravenhill once said, “My goal is God Himself. Not joy, not peace, not even blessing but Himself. The person of my God.” Faith is not an attribute on its own. It is not something that we give God in order to purchase His promises. Rather it is simply trust in God Himself. That trust like any trust comes through a knowledge of Him. The more we know God the more faith we will have in Him.

*“Somehow, sitting there in the moonlight that September night in Glasgow, I knew that my probing into God’s nature was going to begin with this issue of money. That night I knelt in front of the window and made a covenant with Him.

“Lord,” I said, “I need to know that I can trust You in the practical things. I thank You for letting me earn the fees for the first semester. I ask You now to supply the rest of them. If I have to be so much as a day late in paying, I shall know that I am supposed to go back to the chocolate factory.”

It was a childish prayer, petulant and demanding. But then I was still a child in the Christian life. The remarkable thing is that God honoured my prayer. But not without first testing me in some rather amusing ways…”

To be continued

In Christ

quiana

* Quotes, excerpts, and facts have been taken from Brother Andrew's book God's Smuggler