November 12, 2013

A compilation

Many of the best people in the world are lowly and obscure. They have no shining qualities, no brilliant gifts. Yet if we could see them as they really are, we would find they are full of God. Christ lives in them. …

In a little book published a few years ago, there was a story of a young minister visiting among his people. One day he called on an old shoemaker. He began to talk to the old man, and inadvertently spoke of his occupation as humble. The shoemaker was pained by the minister’s word.

“Do not call my occupation lowly; it is no more lowly than yours. When I stand before God in judgment, he will ask about my work, and will ask what kind of shoes I made down here, and then he will want me to show him a specimen. He will ask you what kind of sermons you preached to your people, and will have you show him one. And if my shoes are better than your sermons, then I shall have fuller approval than you will have.”

The old shoemaker was not hurt; he was only impressed with the honor of his own calling as God saw it. He was right, too. No occupation is in itself lowly—the most common kind of work is radiant if it is done for God. We shall each be judged, indeed, by the way we have done the work of our profession, our trade, or our calling. What we do for Christ is glorious, however lowly it is in itself.

Perhaps you have been thinking rather discouragingly about yourself. You feel that you have hardly a fair share of comfort, opportunities, or privileges. You have been almost fretting because you are not progressing as fast as you want to. You have been discontented, depressed. Ask God to open your eyes, and you will see your common life is full of splendor.—J. R. Miller1

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In 1 Corinthians 1:27–29, God’s Word says, “God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and the base things of the world, and the things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and the things which are not, to bring to nought the things that are: That no flesh should glory in his presence.” … This letter was written to the Greeks, and you’ll remember that they were not caring so much about the commonplace. The ever-present things of life had lost their charm for them. They wanted something new all the time.2

Now, what is “the commonplace”? Well, it’s the valley where the millions meet; it’s where the multitudes travel, and what the multitudes do. It has nothing to differentiate and bring it to the limelight. But it’s the real work of the world. There is generally a desire on the part of many people to get out of the commonplace, to do something great, and they forget the cooking, washing, mending, sewing, farming, nursing the sick, doing little kindnesses, and child-training. All of these things that come in the everyday round of the commonplace are great things in God’s sight, and God created them as He did the great things.

You know, there is an economic necessity for the love of the commonplace. There’s real character building in washing dishes and doing cooking and raising your own garden, and a man doing carpentry. I love to see a woman who loves cooking and washing and mending, and I like to see a man who delights in his plows and his teams and his produce. For these things are divine. … God made the commonplace. I don’t know why it is that it seems like the very grind of it gets into people’s souls, and they begin to feel like they’re nobodies and that they don’t amount to anything in man or in God’s sight. Well, Dorcas was of more value than Bernice, the society daughter of Herod, and you’ll find many characters in God’s Word who lived amongst the commonplace.3

I wonder when we’ll ever learn the lesson that it’s doing some little duties of life faithfully, punctually, thoroughly, reverently, not for the praise of men, but for the “well done” of Jesus Christ, not for the payment to be received, but because God has given us a little place of work to do in His great world. Not because we must, but because we choose, not as slaves of circumstances, but doing it with the Lord in mind, doing it “as unto the Lord and not unto men,” doing it as Christ’s freed ones.4

Then far down beneath the surge of common life, the foundations of a character are laid, more beautiful and enduring than coral, which shall presently rear itself before the eyes of man and angels, and will become an emerald island, green with perennial beauty and vocal with the songs of paradise. We ought therefore to be very careful how we complain about the common tasks of daily life. We’re making the character in which we have to spend eternity.

It’s a greater thing to do an unimportant thing with a great motive for God and for truth and for others, than to do a great, important thing and do it with a complaining spirit. An obscure life really offers more opportunities for the nurture of a loftier type of character, the growth of Christian graces, more opportunities than any greatness, such as men call greatness. We sometimes will go down the story book of history and say, “Oh, if we could have been Grace Darling or Florence Nightingale, someone like that.” But God meant you to be for Him just where He put you, if you do as unto Him and not unto men.—Virginia Brandt Berg5 

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John [the Baptist] did no miracle, but Jesus said that among those born of women there had not appeared a man greater than he.6

John’s main business was to bear witness to the Light,7 and this may be yours and mine. John was content to be only a voice, if men would think of Christ.

Be willing to be only a voice, heard but not seen; a mirror whose surface is lost to view, because it reflects the dazzling glory of the sun; a breeze that springs up just before daylight and says, “The dawn! The dawn!” and then dies away.

Do the commonest and smallest things as beneath His eye. If you must live with uncongenial people, set to the conquest by love.

We are doing more good than we know, sowing seed, starting streamlets, giving men true thoughts of Christ, to which they will refer one day as the first things that started them thinking of Him; and, of my part, I shall be satisfied if no great mausoleum is raised over my grave, but that simple souls shall gather there when I am gone and say, “He was a good man; he wrought no miracles, but he spoke words about Christ which led me to know Him for myself.”—George Matheson8

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You compare yourself to others, thinking you’re not all you should be, you’re not good enough for Me and for the service I’ve called you to do. You feel that if only you could improve in this area or that area, you’d be a polished enough vessel to serve Me in the way you think would be best and most pleasing in My eyes. But what you may not see is that I look tenderly upon the lacks in your vessel and your less polished areas; these prove your need for Me. I made you. My hands formed you, and I created you. And I’m still changing you, strengthening you, and molding you according to My design.

So when you’re tempted to compare with another, to look at another as being more talented, capable, or appealing, and you feel weak and powerless to attain to these qualities you wish you had—look to Me and let Me bear you up and show you things from My perspective. I’ll show you that each vessel has weak spots, each is in need of Me, and your weaknesses and lacks can cause you to depend more on Me. In your humility I will lift you up.—Jesus, speaking in prophecy 

Published on Anchor November 2013. Read by Bryan Clark.
Music by Michael Dooley.

Copyright © 2013 The Family International.