Comforting Words from John Newton

The Christian calling, like many others, is easy and clear in theory, but not without much care and difficulty to be reduced to practice. Things appear quite otherwise, when felt experimentally, to what they do, when only read in a book. Many learn the art of navigation (as it is called), by the fire-side at home; but when they come to sea, with their heads full of rules, and without experience, they find that the art is only to be thoroughly learnt upon the spot. So, to renounce self, to live upon Jesus, to walk with God, to overcome the world, to hope against hope, to trust the Lord when we cannot trace him, and to know that our duty and privilege consist in these things, may be readily acknowledged or quickly learned; but, upon repeated trial, we find that saying and doing are two things. We think at setting out that we sit down and count the cost; but alas! our views are so superficial at first, that we have occasion to correct our estimate daily. For every day shows us some new thing in the heart, or some new turn in the management of the war against us which we were not aware of; and upon these accounts, discouragements may arise so high as to bring us (I speak for myself) to the very point of throwing down our arms, and making either a tame surrender or a shameful flight. Thus it would be with us at last, if the Lord of hosts were not on our side…. But if He is the Captain of our salvation, if his eye is upon us, his arm stretched out around us, and his ear open to our cry, and if He has engaged to teach our hands to war and our fingers to fight, and to cover our heads in the day of battle, then we need not fear, though a host rise up against us; but, lifting up our banner in his name, let us go forth conquering and to conquer; Rom. 16:20.


(from John Newton, in a letter to William Cowper, http://theoldguys.org/2011/11/16/john-newton-saying-vs-doing/)


Looking forward to the holiday break, to rest and renewal. Too often I try on my own strength to do things and fail, again and again. Thank God for his forgiveness and faithfulness, for not relinquishing his hold on me though I turn aside and look with undiscerning eyes to things that do not fulfill. Too often I quake in my heart for fear, like Much-Afraid in Hinds' Feet on High Places -- and fear of what? lack of control? not knowing what's coming next? abandonment? hurt, disappointment, pain? receiving more than I feel I deserve?
We need not fear.


Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief.

Quotes from Hind's Feet on High, by Hannah Hurnard

[On love]

"Then will you let me plant the seed of true Love [in your heart] now?" asked the Shepherd. "It will take you some time to develop hinds' feet and to climb to the High Places, and if I put the seed in your heart now it will be ready to bloom by the time you get there."

Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."

"That is true," agreed the Shepherd. "To love does mean to put your self into the power of the loved one and to become very vulnerable to pain, and you are much-afraid of pain, are you not?"

She nodded miserably and then said shamefacedly, "Yes, very much afraid of it."

"But it is so happy to love," said the Shepherd quietly. "It is happy to love even if you are not loved in return. There is pain, too, certainly, but Love does not think that very significant."

[On praise]

Once the Shepherd stooped and touched the flowers gently with His fingers, then said to Much-Afraid with a smile, "Humble yourself, and you will find that Love is spreading a carpet of flowers beneath your feet."

Much-Afraid looked at Him earnestly. "I have often wondered about the wild flowers," she said. "It does seem strange that such unnumbered multitudes should bloom in the wild places of the earth where perhaps nobody ever sees them and the goats and the cattle can walk over them and crush them to death. They have so much beauty and sweetness to give and no one on whom to lavish it, nor who will even appreciate it."

The look the Shepherd turned on her was very beautiful. "Nothing my Father and I have made is ever wasted," He said quietly, "and the little wild flowers have a wonderful lesson to teach. They offer themselves so sweetly and confidently and willingly, even if it seems that there is no one to appreciate them. Just as though they sang a joyous little song to themselves, that it is so happy to love, even though one is not loved in return.

"I must tell you a great truth, Much-Afraid, which only the few understand. All the fairest beauties in the human soul, its greatest victories, and its most splendid achievements are always those which no one else knows anything about, or can only dimly guess at. Every inner response of the human heart to Love and every conquest over self-love is a new flower on the tree of Love. Many a quiet, ordinary, and hidden love, unknown to the world, is a veritable garden in which Love's flowers and fruits have come to such perfection that it is a place of delight where the King of love himself walks and rejoices with His friends. Some of My servants have indeed won great visible victories and are rightly loved and reverenced by other men, but always their greatest victories are like the wild flowers, those which no one knows about."

[On waiting]

"Shepherd," she said despairingly, "I can't understand this. The guides You gave me say that we must go down there into that desert, turning right away from the High Places altogether. You don't mean that, do you? You can't contradict yourself. Tell them we are not to go there, and show us another way. Make a way for us, Shepherd, as you promised."

He looked at her and answered very gently, "That is the path, Much-Afraid, and you are to go down there."

"Oh no," she cried, "You can't mean it. You said if I would trust you, You would bring me to the High Places, and that path leads right away from them. It contradicts all that you promised."

"No," said the Shepherd, "it is not contradiction, only postponement for the best to become possible."

[On obedience]

"Whenever you are willing to obey me, Much-Afraid, and to follow the math of my choice, you will always be able to hear and recognize my voice, and when you hear it you must always obey. Remember also that it is always safe to obey my voice, even if it seems to call you to paths which look impossible or even crazy."

[On fear]

Though she felt too ashamed to do it, she did so because she was forced by her extremity. She cried out, "O Lord, I am oppressed; undertake for me. My fears have taken hold upon me and I am ashamed to look up." 

"Why Much-Afraid." It was the Shepherd's voice close beside her. "What is the matter? Be of good cheer, it is I, be not afraid." He sounded so cheery, so full of strength and moreover without a hint of reproach, that Much-Afraid felt as though a strong and exhilarating cordial had been poured into her heart and that a stream of courage and strength was flowing into her from his presence. 

She sat up and looked at him and saw that he was smiling, almost laughing at her. The shame is her eyes met no answering reproach in his, and suddenly she found words echoing in her heart, which other trembling souls have spoken. "My Lord is of very tender compassion to them that are afraid." [...]

"Much Afraid", said the Shepherd again, "tell me, what is the matter? Why were you so fearful?"

"It is the way you have chosen for me to go, " she whispered. "It looks so dreadful, Shepherd, so impossible. I turn giddy and faint whenever I look at it. The roes and the hinds can go there, but they re not limping, crippled or cowardly like me." 

"But Much-Afraid, what did I promise you in the Valley of Humiliation?", asked the Shepherd with a smile. Much-Afraid looked startled and the blood rushed into her cheeks and ebbed again, leaving them as white as before. "O Shepherd, you said you would make me feet like hinds' feet and set me upon mine in the High Places."

"Well," he answered cheerily, "the only way to develop hinds' feet is to go by the paths which the hinds' use---like this one." Much-Afraid trembled and looked at him shamefacedly. "I don't think I want hinds' feet if it means I have to go on a path like that, " she said slowly and painfully. Instead of looking either disappointed or disapproving, the Shepherd actually laughed again.

"Oh, yes you do," he said cheerfully. "I know you much better than you know yourself, Much-Afraid. You want it very much, indeed and I promise you these hinds' feet. Indeed, I have brought you on purpose to the back side of the desert, where the mountains are particularly steep and where there are no paths, but the tracks of the deer and of the mountain goats for you to follow and the promise may be fulfilled. What did I say to you the last time we met?" 

"You said, 'Now thou shalt see what I will do,'" she answered reproachfully and added, "But I never dreamed you would do anything like this! Lead me to an impassable precipice up which nothing can go but deer and goats, when I am no more like a deer or a goat than is a jellyfish. It's too---it's too---" She fumbled for words, then burst out laughing. "Why, it's too preposterously absurd! It's crazy! Whatever will you do next?" 

The Shepherd laughed too. "I love doing preposterous things," he replied. "Why, I don't know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength and fear into faith and that which has been marred into perfection. If there is one thing more than another which I should enjoy at this moment is turning a jellyfish into a mountain goat. That is my special work," he added with the light of a great joy in his face. "Transforming things---to take Much-Afraid, for instance, and transform her into---" He broke off and then went on laughingly. "Well, we shall see later on what she finds herself transformed into". 

It really was an extraordinary scene. In the place where just a little while before all had been fear and despair were the Shepherd and Much-Afraid, sitting on the rocks at the foot of the precipice, laughing together as though at the greatest joke in the world. 

"Come now, little jellyfish," said the Shepherd, "do you believe that I can change you into a mountain goat and get you to the top of the precipice?"

"Yes," replied Much-Afraid. 

"Will you let me do it?" 

"Yes," she answered, "if you want to do such a crazy and preposterous thing, why you certainly may." 

"Do you think I will allow you to be put to shame on the way up?" Much-Afraid looked at him and said something that she had never been willing to say before.

"I don't think I mind so very much if you do; only have your will and way in me, Shepherd. Nothing else matters."

Giving of thanks

Tired this weekend. But lots of things to be thankful for, to be glad about, like:

Beauty.
Exploration.
Glorious weather.
Good long girl talks.
Random acts of kindness.
Smiling at strangers.
Early mornings.
Baking.
Food.
Hugs.
Chivalry.
Spontaneity.
Late-night ramblings.
Catching up with old friends.
Time with the Word.
Encouragement.
Sharing.
Prayer.

Especially when the world entices me to fear (of change, of adult responsibility, of the darkness of human nature, of deep-seated bitterness, of  lack of desire and motivation and impetus, of things unknown), I thank God for his promise of security in salvation in Christ Jesus, a salvation and redemption that can never be taken away no matter the circumstances. Transform my heart, take away my desire to hold my life in my own two hands. Your provision is more than enough.
And my God will meet all your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus.


So, so thankful for Your constancy, Your faithfulness, and for the gift of fellowship with brothers and sisters in the faith.

Thankful also for sleep and rest. Starting now. Goodnight, world.