“Take no thought for your life.” Matthew 6:25. “A warning which needs to be reiterated is that the cares of this world, the deceitfulness of riches, and the lust of other things entering in, will choke all that God puts in. We are never free from the recurring tides of this encroachment. If it does not come on the line of clothes and food, it will come on the line of money or lack of money; of friends or lack of friends; or on the line of difficult circumstances. It is one steady encroachment all the time, and unless we allow the Spirit of God to raise up the standard against it, these things will come in like a flood.
“Take no thought for your life.” “Be careful about one thing only,” says our Lord – “your relationship to Me.” Common sense shouts lout and says – “That is absurd, I must consider what I am going to eat and drink.” Jesus says you must not. Beware of allowing the thought that this statement is made by One Who does not understand our particular circumstances. Jesus Christ knows our circumstances better than we do, and He says we must not think about these things so as to make them the one concern of our life. Whenever there is competition, be sure that you put your relationship to God first.
“Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.” How much evil has begun to threaten you today? What kind of mean little imps have been looking in and saying – Now what are you going to do next month – this summer? “Be anxious for nothing,” Jesus says. Look again and think. Keep your mind on the “much more” of your heavenly Father.”
Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, p.27.
2010… I thought I would still be in southern Spain but find myself still in the States.
But may this confusion in my mind redound to the glory of God!
God, though this life is but a wraith,
Although we know not what we use;
Although we grope with little faith,
Give me the heart to fight – and lose.
Ever insurgent let me be,
Make me more daring than devout;
From sleek contentment keep me free,
And fill me with a buoyant doubt.
Open my eyes to visions girt
With beauty, and with wonder lit -
But let me always see the dirt,
And all that spawn and die in it.
Open my ears to music, let
Me thrill with Spring’s first flutes and drums -
But never let me dare forget
The bitter ballads of the slums.
From compromise and things half-done,
Keep me, with stern and stubborn pride;
And when, at last, the fight is won,
God, keep me still unsatisfied.
The incision is only about an inch in length and horizontal. I have scars on my 56-year-old body that are much longer. And they all tell their stories.
There’s the one on my left little finger. I must have been about five or six. A friend (John Ed) and I were passengers in the back of a truck driven/owned by Jake. It was probably an early 50′s Chevrolet – only about six years old but a pile of old scrap steel nonetheless. Jake stopped on our journey to the dump to see an elderly friend. John Ed jumped over the left side of the truck bed and landed gently in the dust of a cotton field. John Ed is about four years older than I. So I followed my peer’s lead and leaped. But I didn’t land on my feet. My hands also sank in the soft dirt. When I stood there was a gush of blood from a cut that went nearly to the bone and was as long as my little finger. Back in those days I didn’t faint at the sight of such things. But I did scream… a lot. Fortunately there was a local physician who patched me up.
The finger just beside that one has a nasty jagged scar that required twenty-odd stitches. Under my right index fingernail is scarring from getting sideways with a router. And here and there on my body are evidences of crossing paths with something stronger than my body could resist, with scars left behind.
I hope this biopsy is the final one. Scars have stories. Let’s keep this one short.
