Reminiscences of the day when I was born in Christ into the Kingdom of God tingles my every nerve. Bubbling with joy and beaming with delight, they were probably the best days of my life. The world appeared more colourful. I thought, if birth were so nice how wonderful growth would be! True, but something within me makes me turn back and see those pleasant childhood days and let out a sigh of longing for them. How I wish to go back to those mysteriously charming days! Truly I want to grow into a baby.
Never did I imagine the religious world to be so complicated. Like a toddler I dashed on all directions and got hurt before I learnt of its many faces.
I remember the good old days when every day I returned from the school, climbed up to the terrace and sang to my Lord. I would read my Bible and then open my diary and wirte down my sins of the day. I would then tell God how sorry and ashamed I was of
them. I would ask the Lord to please forgive me and assure Him I would please Him better next day. As I confessed each, I would strike it off. Today heart-searching has lost its in-depth meaning for me. It looks silly for me to write down my sins. Something keeps telling me constantly that I am automatically cleansed by the blood of Christ. Where did I learn that stuff? No more hot tears for my sins at the close of the day when I sit at my Master's feet. The slightest illness was a thorough searchlight. Now any trial, I quote Job and pass on for a virtuous person under trial.
Often I feel because I work so much for my Master He will certainly understand even if I don't have a heart-to-heart talk with Him. Gone are the days when I madly rushed to the terrace so that I would not be late by a minute for my prayer time and keep my Master waiting. Visitors, friends, phone calls, letters, programmes and duties seem to tell me that God is very understanding and not to feel too guilty about my lost hour of prayer.
Will I anymore relive the days when at the slightest criticism or backbiting I shut myself in and wept and pestered God to tell me what was wrong with me and where? Now, I have learnt to criticise my criticisers and backbite my backbiters. No more do criticisms and backbitings do their sanctifying work in me.
When I was a baby how tenderly I handled my Bible as the Word of life! How tirelessly I turned its pages to seek the truth, to nourish and cherish my spirit. The lovely days of hunger and thirst when I, like a caterpillar voraciously consumed the costly Word! How enticing were the biographies of saints and material on His word! The more I fed myself the hungrier I became. But today, how complacent and self-satisfied I am ! Damn my sense of sufficiency. Will I ever repent of my 'I-have-need-of-nothing' attitude and return to my 'I-know-nothing' agony?
Now the Bible looks too familiar and seems to have lost its freshness and novelty (or have I?). I am addicted to gathering points for preaching. The soft voice of my conscience is being muffled by a booming noise, "Why do you need a separate time for meditation?
Are you not reading the Bible while preparing a sermon or writing an article? Is this not equivalent to meditation?"
How I won souls for the Kingdom, one by one, one by one! Today a gathering less than my expectation disappoints me. Talking to one soul seems a waste of time. Why have I lost the vision of the rejoicing heavens when one soul is converted? Have I forgotten that one soul is worth more than this whole world? How the information of the lost stirred up my soul! Now it is all lifeless dots and maps and statistics. Oh for a thousnd prayers to get back the passionate soul-stirring feelings I have lost!
Long back, how I burst out on a lost soul and blabbered the message of hope and saw tears of repentance swell up — the blessed blessing. But now, oh, I want to be decent before others. I don't want to get mud smeared on my face before my fellows. How self- conscious I have become! I want to be doctrinally correct and present the Gospel palatably. Persecution is a forgotten past because now I have learnt to preach the Gospel carefully, not offending anyone. Gone are the days when I rejoiced to suffer shame for His Name. Now I rather examine my methods to find where I have erred and refine my message. "Oh Lord, I plead Thee, once again make me believe that the old simple Gospel is the same for the young and the old, the Greek and the barbarian, the wise and the foolish, the cityman and the villager, the poor and the rich. Let not my foolish wisdom tailor Your marvellous message."
How I have learnt to love my doctrine more than my Lord! How keen I am on converting converts. "O God, I need a conversion to my good old self. Demolish my doctrine, that I being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height of Your love."
Beautiful babyhood, when I fed avariciously on counsel, sermons, messages and articles. The days when I looked up to everyone for help and guidance are gone with the wind. Now a tendency to criticise counsel, suspect sermons and measure messages has crept in unawares. I reduce anointed articles to mere compare-and- contrast material rather than avidly feast on them. I don't know why I look down upon others; but it is there hiding in some dark corner of self.
How I imitated godly men. Today I count imitation as inferior and have paid the price in terms of retarded growth. Was not Paul, the chief apostle himself an advocate of imitation? Defeats were challenging demons which strengthened my spiritual muscles then. But today, I feel too dignifed to acknowledge defeats and paint them with colours of seeming victory. How easy it was, once upon a time, to alter or correct my wrong convictions. But today, prestige prevents me from bowing my head that I was after all wrong thus far. The days when I didn't think much of myself have quietly slipped away leaving me pauper on the stage of 'I am a somebody.'
When first invited to take Sunday class or share my testimony, how with fear and trembling I went, throwing myself completely on the Lord trusting Him to speak to hearts. Now I don't know how to crack down my self-confidence unknowingly built up in me. Why, oh why, have I learnt the tactics of preaching and human psychology to move the hearts of people? Why do I expect the Spirit to move when I raise my voice? I speak what people expect me to speak than what God wants me to speak. If only there were
some ways of unlearning things, I would gladly take up that course.
How I take for granted God's workings these days of busy labouring in the vineyard! How I used to travail in prayer as a baby. Now I tend to assume that when I speak, souls will be convicted and converted. If nothing happens I conveniently conclude that it is hard soil. I thank my God for the many instances when He put me to shame just to crush my pride and self-confidence, just to tell me that nothing can be taken for granted and without Him I cannot do anything, anytime, anywhere.
Thank You Lord for the many times, when flattered by praises I faltered into folishness.Now praises have become precious warnings. Thank You for my failures which are constant reminders of my fallibility. Thank You for my many acts of foolishness which have driven me to pray for Your wisdom. Yes Lord, allow me not to fall miserably into the hands of my carnal man, but it is merciful for me to fall into Your hands. Give me the grace to grow into a baby that everytime I hold a responsibility I may humble myself before You with fear and trembing that Your power may be manifested."
Long, long ago I smiled at all children of God and opened my heart freely. But today I don't believe believers. Is it because I burned my finger a few times? Why do I suspiciously view any believer? I have lost my open appreciation for others. Now I do not want to cause them to stumble. How unbiblical! I am afraid of giving credit to those who helped me spiritually for fear they will take advantage of me. I wish I give myself to be taken advantage of as a baby. How I wish I realise with a freshness the love chapter of Corinthians! Lord, help me to see all beleivers as fallible as me.
Where is the naturalness of a new born babe? My position and designation have painted my face and I am obliged to behave accordingly. How I wish to tear off my mask of assumption worn for position and be as natural as a thirteen year old convert, jumping and laughing and singing and testifying! Why do I act according to my status? I am no more the plain and simple person I was. Now I am taught to be "careful" about my words. How cunning I have become. Yea, yea and nay, nay are struck off from the Sermon on the Mount in my Bible. Is my mind corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ?
Now I understand the words of Jesus to His disciples better: "Be converted, and become as little children" (Mt 18:3). Yes, it was a conversion for disciples to babes!
God, lift me out of this defeated victory, decline to height, this immature maturity, the degrading steps to citadel and the backsliding to knowledge.
Oh tears, tears, why do you evade me? Come rolling down my cheeks, to break me, make me and dissolve me back to my babyhood!
Dr. Lilian Stanley
13 Church Colony
Vellore 632006, India
+91 9843511943
lilianstanley@gmail.com
Blessing Youth Mission
13 Church Colony
Vellore 632006, India
+91-416-2242943, +91-416-2248943
hq@bymonline.org
www.bymonline.org
Click here for more options
To buy books written by Dr. Lilian Stanley, kindly reach to us in the follwing address
Blessing Literature Centre
21/11 West Coovam River Road,
Chintadripet,
Chennai 600 002, India.
+91-44-28450411, 8806270699
blc@bymonline.org
Reminiscences of the day when I was born in Christ into the Kingdom of God tingles my every nerve. Bubbling with joy and beaming with delight, they were probably the best days of my life. The world appeared more colourful. I thought, if birth were so nice how wonderful growth would be! True, but something within me makes me turn back and see those pleasant childhood days and let out a sigh of longing for them. How I wish to go back to those mysteriously charming days! Truly I want to grow into a baby.
Never did I imagine the religious world to be so complicated. Like a toddler I dashed on all directions and got hurt before I learnt of its many faces.
I remember the good old days when every day I returned from the school, climbed up to the terrace and sang to my Lord. I would read my Bible and then open my diary and wirte down my sins of the day. I would then tell God how sorry and ashamed I was of
them. I would ask the Lord to please forgive me and assure Him I would please Him better next day. As I confessed each, I would strike it off. Today heart-searching has lost its in-depth meaning for me. It looks silly for me to write down my sins. Something keeps telling me constantly that I am automatically cleansed by the blood of Christ. Where did I learn that stuff? No more hot tears for my sins at the close of the day when I sit at my Master's feet. The slightest illness was a thorough searchlight. Now any trial, I quote Job and pass on for a virtuous person under trial.
Often I feel because I work so much for my Master He will certainly understand even if I don't have a heart-to-heart talk with Him. Gone are the days when I madly rushed to the terrace so that I would not be late by a minute for my prayer time and keep my Master waiting. Visitors, friends, phone calls, letters, programmes and duties seem to tell me that God is very understanding and not to feel too guilty about my lost hour of prayer.
Will I anymore relive the days when at the slightest criticism or backbiting I shut myself in and wept and pestered God to tell me what was wrong with me and where? Now, I have learnt to criticise my criticisers and backbite my backbiters. No more do criticisms and backbitings do their sanctifying work in me.
When I was a baby how tenderly I handled my Bible as the Word of life! How tirelessly I turned its pages to seek the truth, to nourish and cherish my spirit. The lovely days of hunger and thirst when I, like a caterpillar voraciously consumed the costly Word! How enticing were the biographies of saints and material on His word! The more I fed myself the hungrier I became. But today, how complacent and self-satisfied I am ! Damn my sense of sufficiency. Will I ever repent of my 'I-have-need-of-nothing' attitude and return to my 'I-know-nothing' agony?
Now the Bible looks too familiar and seems to have lost its freshness and novelty (or have I?). I am addicted to gathering points for preaching. The soft voice of my conscience is being muffled by a booming noise, "Why do you need a separate time for meditation?
Are you not reading the Bible while preparing a sermon or writing an article? Is this not equivalent to meditation?"
How I won souls for the Kingdom, one by one, one by one! Today a gathering less than my expectation disappoints me. Talking to one soul seems a waste of time. Why have I lost the vision of the rejoicing heavens when one soul is converted? Have I forgotten that one soul is worth more than this whole world? How the information of the lost stirred up my soul! Now it is all lifeless dots and maps and statistics. Oh for a thousnd prayers to get back the passionate soul-stirring feelings I have lost!
Long back, how I burst out on a lost soul and blabbered the message of hope and saw tears of repentance swell up — the blessed blessing. But now, oh, I want to be decent before others. I don't want to get mud smeared on my face before my fellows. How self- conscious I have become! I want to be doctrinally correct and present the Gospel palatably. Persecution is a forgotten past because now I have learnt to preach the Gospel carefully, not offending anyone. Gone are the days when I rejoiced to suffer shame for His Name. Now I rather examine my methods to find where I have erred and refine my message. "Oh Lord, I plead Thee, once again make me believe that the old simple Gospel is the same for the young and the old, the Greek and the barbarian, the wise and the foolish, the cityman and the villager, the poor and the rich. Let not my foolish wisdom tailor Your marvellous message."
How I have learnt to love my doctrine more than my Lord! How keen I am on converting converts. "O God, I need a conversion to my good old self. Demolish my doctrine, that I being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height of Your love."
Beautiful babyhood, when I fed avariciously on counsel, sermons, messages and articles. The days when I looked up to everyone for help and guidance are gone with the wind. Now a tendency to criticise counsel, suspect sermons and measure messages has crept in unawares. I reduce anointed articles to mere compare-and- contrast material rather than avidly feast on them. I don't know why I look down upon others; but it is there hiding in some dark corner of self.
How I imitated godly men. Today I count imitation as inferior and have paid the price in terms of retarded growth. Was not Paul, the chief apostle himself an advocate of imitation? Defeats were challenging demons which strengthened my spiritual muscles then. But today, I feel too dignifed to acknowledge defeats and paint them with colours of seeming victory. How easy it was, once upon a time, to alter or correct my wrong convictions. But today, prestige prevents me from bowing my head that I was after all wrong thus far. The days when I didn't think much of myself have quietly slipped away leaving me pauper on the stage of 'I am a somebody.'
When first invited to take Sunday class or share my testimony, how with fear and trembling I went, throwing myself completely on the Lord trusting Him to speak to hearts. Now I don't know how to crack down my self-confidence unknowingly built up in me. Why, oh why, have I learnt the tactics of preaching and human psychology to move the hearts of people? Why do I expect the Spirit to move when I raise my voice? I speak what people expect me to speak than what God wants me to speak. If only there were
some ways of unlearning things, I would gladly take up that course.
How I take for granted God's workings these days of busy labouring in the vineyard! How I used to travail in prayer as a baby. Now I tend to assume that when I speak, souls will be convicted and converted. If nothing happens I conveniently conclude that it is hard soil. I thank my God for the many instances when He put me to shame just to crush my pride and self-confidence, just to tell me that nothing can be taken for granted and without Him I cannot do anything, anytime, anywhere.
Thank You Lord for the many times, when flattered by praises I faltered into folishness.Now praises have become precious warnings. Thank You for my failures which are constant reminders of my fallibility. Thank You for my many acts of foolishness which have driven me to pray for Your wisdom. Yes Lord, allow me not to fall miserably into the hands of my carnal man, but it is merciful for me to fall into Your hands. Give me the grace to grow into a baby that everytime I hold a responsibility I may humble myself before You with fear and trembing that Your power may be manifested."
Long, long ago I smiled at all children of God and opened my heart freely. But today I don't believe believers. Is it because I burned my finger a few times? Why do I suspiciously view any believer? I have lost my open appreciation for others. Now I do not want to cause them to stumble. How unbiblical! I am afraid of giving credit to those who helped me spiritually for fear they will take advantage of me. I wish I give myself to be taken advantage of as a baby. How I wish I realise with a freshness the love chapter of Corinthians! Lord, help me to see all beleivers as fallible as me.
Where is the naturalness of a new born babe? My position and designation have painted my face and I am obliged to behave accordingly. How I wish to tear off my mask of assumption worn for position and be as natural as a thirteen year old convert, jumping and laughing and singing and testifying! Why do I act according to my status? I am no more the plain and simple person I was. Now I am taught to be "careful" about my words. How cunning I have become. Yea, yea and nay, nay are struck off from the Sermon on the Mount in my Bible. Is my mind corrupted from the simplicity that is in Christ?
Now I understand the words of Jesus to His disciples better: "Be converted, and become as little children" (Mt 18:3). Yes, it was a conversion for disciples to babes!
God, lift me out of this defeated victory, decline to height, this immature maturity, the degrading steps to citadel and the backsliding to knowledge.
Oh tears, tears, why do you evade me? Come rolling down my cheeks, to break me, make me and dissolve me back to my babyhood!
Dr. Lilian Stanley
13 Church Colony
Vellore 632006, India
+91 9843511943
lilianstanley@gmail.com
Blessing Youth Mission
13 Church Colony
Vellore 632006, India
+91-416-2242943, +91-416-2248943
hq@bymonline.org
www.bymonline.org
Click here for more options
To buy books written by Dr. Lilian Stanley, kindly reach to us in the follwing address
Blessing Literature Centre
21/11 West Coovam River Road,
Chintadripet,
Chennai 600 002, India.
+91-44-28450411, Mob:8806270699
blc@bymonline.org
