A great word for us all

A selection from Amy Carmichael about hope, about continuing to hope when things are turning out the way we expect:

Rom 15.13 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

This is a great word for us all.  We need to be continually renewed in hope because, although there are always happy things happening, the devil does not forget us.  Every now and then we are sharply reminded that he is either a roaring lion, walking about among us, seeking whom he may devour; or he is a serpent, the kind that does not shrink away when he hears us coming, but is quite ready to attack and shoot venom at us, as some snakes are said to do so.  I often thank God that He is a God of hope.

It is also a great word for all who love enough to suffer when those who were trusted have disappointed us.  Paul wrote it in one of his earlier letters.  About thirteen years later he wrote his last letter.  The space between those two letters was filled with experiences of joy and sorrow, most of which are unrecorded.  Among these is a story which comes very close to all of us who have had much to do with souls.

We know Paul loved and trusted his children in the faith who had become his fellow-workers.  Twice we find one of these mentioned in the loving list of names at the end of two of his letters [cf. Col. 4.14; Philem. 24].  Then there is silence.  What pangs, what strivings, what prayers, filled that silent space?  We are told nothing of them, but our hearts tell us what his heart went through before he wrote of that same one in his last letter, “Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me” [2 Tim 4.10].

And yet–and it this that comes close to us–there is no weakening in that last letter, no discouragement, no whisper of loss of faith in others, no fear.  “For God did not give us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind . . . . I know whom I have believed, the God, not of despondency, but of hope” [2 Tim 1.7, 12].

No shoes

I’ve never forgotten a saying that hung above our kitchen sink growing up: “I had no shoes and complained . . . until I met a man who had no feet.”  (Hey, moms, those sayings make a difference!)

Any memorable sayings from your family?

But if not

Facing another day of high heat today made me think of the three young men in the fiery furnace.  Now that you’re smiling, I actually did meditate on that passage from Daniel today.  The attitude of those men in the midst of a life-threatening situation–much more serious than this heat crisis :-)– is amazing.  I just want to share a few thoughts:

  1. When Nebuchadnezzar announces that he will throw them into the fiery furnace if they do not worship his gods, they respond: “If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace; and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king.  But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image which you have set up.” (Daniel 3.17-18 emphasis added)  Amy Carmichael did a little meditation on these verses, highlighting the “but if not.”  If things do not turn out the way we prefer, will we keep abandoning ourselves to Him, trusting wholeheartedly in His love?
  2. This verse really struck home: And they walked about in the midst of the flames, singing hymns to God and blessing the Lord. This verse always makes me think of Isaiah 43.2b: When you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. No grumbling allowed for me when it’s hot, hot, hot.  Only singing hymns and blessing the Lord.  (If you’re like me, it’s easier to handle the big “heats” in life than the small ones. . .)
  3. And most importantly, a fourth man was seen walking in the midst of the fire with the three.  Jesus is always with us in the midst of our own fires.

So bless the Lord, O my soul . . .  He saves us from the eternal fire, which is the most important.

Do not argue with Me

Hot weather and I are not a good mix.   I am thankful that it benefits some–one of the Sisters in our house regularly proclaims: “It’s great tomato weather!”  And I will be thankful when the tomatoes come–although honestly I could wait a few weeks if it meant cooler weather!

All that really has nothing to do with my post today, other than to say I find it hard to think when it’s this hot, so I’m just going to post a quote from St. Faustina about the merciful love of God, trusting in it for myself in the midst of my weakness during hot days. 😉

Be not afraid of your Savior, O sinful soul.  I make the first move to come  to you, for I know that by yourself you are unable to lift yourself to me.  Child, do not run away from your Father; be willing to talk openly with your God of mercy who wants to speak words of pardon and lavish his graces on you.  How dear your soul is to Me!  I have inscribed your name upon My hand; you are engraved as a deep wound in My Heart . . .

My mercy is greater than your sins and those of the entire world.  Who can measure the extent of My goodness?  For you I descended from heaven to earth; for you I allowed Myself to be nailed to the Cross; for you I let My Sacred Heart be pierced with a lance, thus opening wide the source of mercy for you.  Come, then, with trust to draw graces from this fountain.  I never reject a contrite heart.  Your misery has disappeared in the depths of My mercy.  Do not argue with Me about your wretchedness.  You will give Me pleasure if you hand over to Me all your troubles and griefs.  I shall heap upon you the treasures of My grace.  (Diary, 1485)

“But Not Without Wine”

A Sunday-poem from Jessica Powers about our God who is a God of prodigality:

But Not Without Wine

“You are drunk, but not with wine.”  (Isaiah 51.21)

O God of too much giving, whence is this
inebriation that possesses me,
that the staid road now wanders all amiss
and that the wind walks much too giddily,
clutching a bush for balance or a tree?
How then can dignity and pride endure
with such inordinate mirth upon the land,
when steps and speech are somewhat insecure
and the light heart is wholly out of hand?

If there be indecorum in my songs,
fasten the blame where rightly it belongs:
on Him who offered me too many cups
of His most potent goodness–not on me,
a peasant who, because a king was host,
drank out of courtesy.

It is not Death to Die

As I mentioned a couple of days ago, I am reading a new biography of Hudson Taylor, one of my two all-time favorite protestant missionaries.  Hudson was a missionary to China in the late 19th century.  It isn’t my favorite biography of him, but I’ve been thinking a lot about the title: It is not Death to Die.  That line is a quote from Pilgrim’s Progress.  When, at the end of Valiant’s life, he crosses over to the Father’s House, “all the trumpets sounded for him on the other side.  IT IS NOT DEATH TO DIE.” We’ve had a lot of deaths affect us in our house in the last six months: residents at our Emmanuel Houses, the death of a very good friend, a sister of one of our Sisters, the mother of another one.  We have been staring death in the face constantly these days.  The title of the Taylor biography is a good reminder of the truth, that in Christ, death is really only apparent.  It is not death to die.

And that reminded me of the title of a biography of my other favorite protestant missionary, Amy Carmichael.  Elisabeth Elliot write a life of her named A Chance to Die. In the preface to her book, Elisabeth writes about the debt she owes to Amy Carmichael–I feel a similar debt–how she “met” her at age fourteen by reading her books. From her preface:

The first of her books that I read was, I think, If, which became her best-seller.  It was not written for teenagers, but for seasoned Christians with the solemn charge of caring for the souls of others.  It was from the pages of this thin blue book that I, a teenager, began to understand the great message of the Cross, of what the author called “Calvary love.”  I saw the chance to die, to be crucified with Christ was not a morbid thing, but the very gateway to Life.  I was drawn–slowly, fitfully (my response was fitful, but inexorably.  (emphasis added)

I pray to be drawn even more inexorably into this frame of mind, looking for those chances to die to self, confidently knowing that it is not death to die.

Faith, Hope, and Love

If you haven’t had a chance yet to listen to Fr. Ken McKenna’s homily on faith, hope, and love, I’d encourage you to take a few minutes to do so.  You can either find it (and other homilies by him) under “Other Talks” at the “Talks” tab above or just click here.  Then let me know what you think of it.

God knows

Have you ever been called by God to do something, and then as you began to respond to that calling, thought: “What am I doing?  I don’t have what’s needed.  etc. ”  I can do that a lot. This morning, as I was reading the biography of Hudson Taylor (see yesterday’s post), I was convicted by this story from his younger days.  (One piece of biographical information: Hudson had a strong and clear call from God to be a missionary to China.)

Hudson met Mr. Lobscheid [a missionary to China], who after spending time with him concluded: “Why, you would never do for China,” he exclaimed, drawing attention to Hudson’s fair hair and blue-grey eyes.  They call me ‘Red-haired Devil,’ but would run from you in terror!  You could never get them to listen at all.”

“And yet,” replied Hudson Taylor quietly, “it is God who has called me, and He knows all about the color of my hair and eyes.”

(It is Not Death to Die, pp. 56-57)

He knows all about us before He calls us.

Where the pressure lies

I am reading a new biography of J. Hudson Taylor, It is not Death to Die.  Taylor was a missionary to China in the early 20th century.  In my estimation, he was one of the greatest Protestant missionaries to have ever lived, and, along with Amy Carmichael, has had a profound effect on my life.  I always recommend reading his life.  Yesterday as some of our Sisters were sharing about the stresses they’re encountering in life, I could not help but remember this quote from Taylor and would like to pass it along to the rest of you as well:

It does not matter, really, how great the pressure is.  It only matters where the pressure lies.  See that it never comes between you and the Lord–then, the greater the pressure, the more it presses you to His breast.

May whatever is pressing in on you this day only serve to press you closer to His breast.

A smile this morning

If you need a smile this Monday morning, pop over to another blog I manage: Catholic Kids Say the Dearest Things. A number of our Sisters are teachers, and they bring home a lot of material for me to post.

You can subscribe to that blog–as well as this one–if you would like upcoming posts to be automatically sent to your e-mail address. Just click on “E-mail Subscription” in the sidebar and fill out the information.

Have a blessed day!