God leads his children on.
John 10:25-28 KJV
25 Jesus answered them, I told you, and ye believed not: the works that I do in my Father’s name, they bear witness of me.
26 But ye believe not, because ye are not of my sheep, as I said unto you.
27 My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me:
28 And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.
God’s Guidance System
On autumn nights as we sleep peacefully in our beds, millions of songbirds are quietly traveling under cover of darkness, heading south for warmer climates. Take Baltimore orioles, for example. Every fall, they pack their bags, close up their homes, leaving the key under the mat, and like senior citizens head south. It’s the weather patterns that tell the birds that it is time to move. “As cold fronts move across eastern North America,” wrote one expert, “they’re sending waves of orioles, along with warblers and other songbirds, on their way to wintering grounds in Mexico and Latin America.” As cold fronts pass, clear skies and north winds usually follow. These conditions are ideal for migration, allowing the birds to travel with no risk of storms, the wind at their backs and a clear view of the stars to help them find their way.
They fly over thousands of houses and highways, shopping centers and parking lots, passing state after state. If a particular oriole opts for a direct flight home, it will fly over the Gulf of Mexico in a single night, crossing six hundred miles of open water.
The entire trip from Baltimore (for example) to Mexico, Panama, or Costa Rica takes about two weeks. But the oriole knows exactly where it is going. God planted within its little brain a perfect guidance system that tells it exactly where to go, and when, and how.
The Bible says that we are more valuable to the Lord than all the birds in the sky. We are worth more than many sparrows. If the Lord is pleased to guide the birds in their migrations, it’s a safe bet that He also wants to guide our lives.
Learn to listen to God
Don’t argue with the light house
The captain of the ship looked into the dark night and saw faint lights in the distance. Immediately he told his signalman to send a message: "Alter your course 10 degrees south." Promptly a return message was received: "Alter your course 10 degrees north."
The captain was angered; his command had been ignored. So he sent a second message: "Alter your course 10 degrees south--I am the captain!" Soon another message was received: "Alter your course 10 degrees north--I am a seaman third class Jones."
Immediately the captain sent a third message, knowing the fear it would evoke: "Alter your course 10 degrees south--I am a battleship." Then the reply came: "Alter your course 10 degrees north--I am a lighthouse."
In the midst of our dark and foggy times, all sorts of voices are shouting orders into the night, telling us what to do, how to adjust our lives. Out of the darkness, one voice signals something quite opposite to the rest--something almost absurd. But the voice happens to be the Light of the World, and we ignore it at our peril.
Abraham did not know the way, but he knew the Guide.
Lee Roberson
A glimpse of the next three feet of road is more important and useful than a view of the horizon.
C. S. Lewis (1898-1963)
In "pastures green?" Not always.
Sometimes He Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me
In weary ways, where heavy shadows be.
And by "still waters"? No, not always so,
Ofttimes the heavy tempests round me blow,
And o’er my soul the waves and billows go.
But when the storm beats loudest,
And I cry Aloud for help, the Master standeth by,
And whispers to my soul, "Lo, ’tis I."
So, where He leads me, I can safely go,
And in the blest hereafter I shall know,
Why in His wisdom He hath led me so.
However far you go, it is not much use if it is not in the right direction.
William Barclay (1907-1978)
Once a friend of mine went swimming in a large lake at dusk. As he was paddling at a leisurely pace about 100 yards offshore, a freak evening fog rolled in across the water. Suddenly he could see nothing: no horizon, no landmarks, no objects or lights on shore. Because the fog diffused all light, he could not even discern which direction the sun was setting.
For thirty minutes my friend splashed around in panic. He would start off in one direction, lose confidence, and turn ninety degrees to the right. Or left--it made no difference which way he turned. He would stop and float, trying to conserve energy, and concentrate on breathing slower. Then he would strike out again, blindly, of course, for he had lost all orientation. He was utterly lost until, finally, he heard voices calling from shore and was able to guide himself by the sounds.
Something like that feeling of utter lostness must have settled in on poor Job as he sat in the ashes and tried to comprehend what had happened. He too had lost all landmarks, all points of orientation. Where should he turn? God, the one Person who could guide him through the fog, kept silent.
The whole point of the "wager," in fact, was to keep Job in the dark. "Does Job fear God for nothing?" Satan had asked. Anyone will trust in a God who spoils his favorite with the greatest wealth in the Middle East. But remove all props, withdraw into the darkness, and then see what happens. The moment God accepted the terms of the wager, the Fog rolled in around Job.
God ultimately "won the wager." Although Job questioned everything about God in a stream of angry outbursts and bitter complaints, and although he despaired of life and longed for death, still he stubbornly refused to give up on God. "Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him," Job defiantly maintained. He believed when there was no reason to believe, when nothing at all made sense. He believed in the midst of the Fog.
Job stands as merely the most extreme example of what appears to be a universal law of faith. The kind of faith God wants seems to develop best when everything fuzzes over, when the lights get turned off, when the Fog rolls in. As Paul Tournier said, "Where there is no longer any opportunity for doubt, there is no longer any opportunity for faith either."
Philip Yancey. From the files of Leadership
Before us is a future all unknown, a path untrod; Beside us a friend well loved and known- That friend is God.
I’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord,
O’er mountain, or plain, or sea;
I’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord,
I’ll be what you want me to be.
Mary Elizabeth Brown (1842-1917)
Follow me now
"And another also said, ’Lord, I will follow Thee; but let me first go bid them farewell which are at home at my house.’ And Jesus said to him, ’No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God’" (Luke 9:61, 62).
• "I will follow You, Lord, but first let me see if my parents approve."
• "I will follow You, Lord, but first let me go to a few more parties. And as soon as I get that out of my system, I will settle down."
• "I will follow You, Lord, but first let me get married. As soon as I establish a home, I will follow you."
• "We will follow You, Lord, but first let us raise our children. They are so small now, and it is difficult to carry them along while following You."
• "We will follow You, Lord, but first let us get our children through high school. We have to work six days a week to pay the bills, and the children are so busy with school activities that there just is not time to follow You."
• "I would like to follow You now, Lord, but I must first see if my husband will come, too. I do not want to follow You alone."
• "I will follow You, Lord, but first let me retire. Then I will have time to follow you."
• "I would like to follow You, Lord, but it is too late now. I have not done it all these years, and You cannot teach an old dog new tricks."
Death comes at last, and the day of salvation is over. One is separated from God eternally because one put off following Christ until it was too late.
Creeping on the promises
In the early days of our country a weary traveler came to the banks of the Mississippi River for the first time. There was no bridge. It was early winter, and the surface of the mighty stream was covered with ice. Could he dare cross over? Would the uncertain ice be able to bear his weight?
Night was falling, and it was urgent that he reach the other side. Finally, after much hesitation and with many fears, he began to creep cautiously across the surface of the ice on his hands and knees. He thought that he might distribute his weight as much as possible and keep the ice from breaking beneath him.
About halfway over he heard the sound of singing behind him. Out of the dusk there came a man, driving a horse-drawn load of coal across the ice and singing merrily as he went his way.
Here he was--on his hands and knees, trembling lest the ice be not strong enough to bear him up! And there, as if whisked away by the winter’s wind, went the man, his horses, his sleigh, and his load of coal, upheld by the same ice on which he was creeping!
Like this weary traveler, some of us have learned only to creep upon the promises of God. Cautiously, timidly, tremblingly we venture forth upon His promises, as though the lightness of our step might make His promises more secure. As though we could contribute even in the slightest to the strength of His assurances!
He has promised to be with us. Let us believe that promise! He has promised to uphold us. Let us believe Him when He says so. He has promised to grant us victory over all our spiritual enemies. Let us trust His truthfulness. Above all, He has promised to grant us full and free forgiveness of all our sins because of Jesus Christ, our Savior. And He has promised to come and take us to His heavenly home. Let us take Him at His word.
We are not to creep upon these promises as though they were too fragile to uphold us. We are to stand upon them--confident that God is as good as His word and that He will do what He has pledged.
I shall not fear the battle
If thou art by my side,
Nor wander from the pathway
If thou wilt be my guide.
John E. Bode
