What Will Happen?

When some path of obedience lies open to us through a command of the Lord, our first response is often “What will happen tome if I do this?”  Grim probabilities take shape in our minds and we set about at once collecting all the reasons why this Scripture cannot apply to us, or why it is quite impossible for us, in our circumstances, to take this path.

           

The same response was Obadiah’s, comptroller of King Ahab’s household, when Elijah appeared and said “go and tell the king I’m here.”

           

“What will happen?” (1 Kings 18:12), Obadiah replied.  “He will kill me.”  He envisioned Elijah’s being mysteriously raptured away, making Obadiah look like a liar.  No.  It was not possible to obey.  Surely Elijah could see the logic of that objection.  But the prophet gave the word, and Obadiah, being a “devout worshipper of the Lord” (1 Kings 18:4) obeyed.

           
Let’s quit objecting when a command is given.  Try trusting instead, and see what will happen.  He has power to prevent what you imagine will happen, and power to do what you cannot begin to imagine.  “And Ahab went to meet Elijah” (v.16).

The Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot

What Is Trust?

To the unbeliever, the notion of “trust” in God is a challenge to Him to grant what one wants.  When Jesus hung nailed to the cross, passerby hurled abuse at Him:  “Come down.  Save yourself!”  The chief priests, lawyers and elders (learned, logical leaders) mocked Him:  “King of Israel, indeed!  Let Him come down now from the cross and then we will believe Him.  Did He trust in God?  Let God rescue Him.”  (Matt. 27:42-43).

             

Real trust yields utterly to the one trusted.   All desire is turned over to that one, believing his ability to manage, control, and finally to accomplish what is best.  When we pray, we should beware lest we line ourselves up with the mockers of Jesus---“If You do such and such, then I will trust You!”  We need to learn rather to let God rescue us in His own way.  It may not be escape from suffering, but death---followed by so much more glorious a rescue---resurrection!

             

Lord, teach me this trust.

The Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot

Vague Prayers

It is good thing to be specific in prayer.  For one thing, it requires thought.  What we pray about we should think about.  For another, it links the temporal to the eternal---the long list of seemingly impossible tasks to be done or people to be helped is brought before the God of all the Universe.  In His presence the needs are seen in a different light.  For yet a third reason, we are more apt to expect answers when we ask for definite things. 

               
Often however, we simply do not know what to ask.  Someone’s name is brought to the memory with great insistence, a situation looks hopeless and we cannot imagine what even God could do about it----at such times it is a great comfort to know that even the unspecific (even the vague) prayers of an attentive heart are accepted.  And the Holy Spirit “within us is actually praying for us in those agonizing longings which never find words”  (Romans 8:26, PHILLIPS)

The Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot

Unimaginable Solutions

Spectators at the cross of Calvary imagined a dramatic escape or rescue as the proof of Jesus’ kingship.  God had an infinitely greater demonstration in mind.  The Son would not manage to escape from the hands of His captors or from the nails and wood that held Him, nor would someone else come to His rescue.  He would go through the last extremity of what it means to be human, and by that very means, by death itself, would destroy the power of death.  He would become, by His obedient dying , the “Death of Death” and “Hell’s Destruction.”

 
When we, in our "lesser miseries,"  plead for escape or rescue, what unimaginable "solutions" God has stored up for us!  But often, in response to our pleadings, the word is Trust Me.

The Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot

Unconditional Self-Abandonment

The glory of the Resurrection followed the shame of the Crucifixion.  Christ abandoned Himself, became subject to death, went to Gehenna, for love of us.  Therefore He was raised in power, death could not hold Him, and He opened Paradise for us.  We can enter only as He entered – the road to glory is always the road of self-abandonment.  When we see this as a mere theory we are not even close to living as Christians.  It is in the opportunities of every day, with real people (i.e., real sinners) that we (sinners, too) are called to His companionship:  “Give up your rights, abandon yourself, follow me – follow me to the place where death cannot possibly hold you, where animosities and offenses are vanquished, and Life springs victorious.”

What do we long for above all else?  Is it not Life?  Jesus came so that we could have it – but the only life He can give us is resurrection life.  That kind comes as the result of unconditional self-abandonment.

The Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot

Too Strong To Be Crucified

Jesus Christ, we are told, was “crucified in weakness.”  When we approach the table of the Lord in Holy Communion, or when in any way at all we identify ourselves as Christians, we are letting Christ take us, with our purposes, and offer us, as He did His own body, up to His Father. 

The greater our consciousness of weakness, sinfulness, and abject need, the more perfectly we can let Christ take us for that offering.

               

The man or woman who claims some autonomy, some right to himself, some independence, some existence of his won, is too strong.  Too strong to need a Savior, too strong to flee to His cross for refuge, too strong to be crucified with Christ.  How then shall he live in Christ, how shall Christ live in him?

When I survey the wondrous Cross

On which the Prince of Glory died,

My richest gain I count by loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Isaac Watts

Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot

Too Rich to Follow Him

In the forests of Ecuador I soon learned that there were journeys I could not make if I wanted to carry baggage. Traveling narrow, muddy, and often steep trails on foot was impossible if I was heavily loaded.

So it is with the spiritual journey. We cannot make it if we insist on taking along everything we think indispensable. A rich young man was attracted to Jesus and contemplated joining His company, but Jesus spoke plainly of the necessary condition: Sell all you have first.

If he had not had much, perhaps he would have laid it down readily. But he was too rich to follow Jesus. He turned away, sorrowful.

We may be willing to part with almost everything God is asking us to relinquish, but perhaps we are clutching one thing tightly—“all but this, Lord.” “Lay it down,” Jesus says. “Let it go.” If we refuse, too rich to follow Him, we have chosen a greater poverty in the end.

Music of His Promises by Elisabeth Elliot