Surrender

The One Secret of a Holy Life – Oswald Chambers

The one marvelous secret of a holy life lies not in imitating Jesus, but in letting the perfections of Jesus manifest themselves in my mortal flesh. Sanctification is “Christ in you.”… Sanctification is not drawing from Jesus the power to be holy; it is drawing from Jesus the holiness that was manifested in Him, and He manifests it in me.

– Oswald Chambers –


To Be “In the Will of God” – Oswald Chambers

To be “in the will of God” is not a matter of intellectual discernment, but a state of heart. To a sanctified soul the will of God is its implicit life, as natural as breathing. It is the sick man who knows intellectually what the will of God is; but a sanctified heart is the expression of the will of God. Its motto is: “My Father can do what he likes with me, He may bless me to death, or give me a bitter cup; I delight to do His will.”

– Oswald Chambers –

Lord Make Me Weak – Jim Elliot

Sufficiency in myself is a persistent thought, though I try to judge it. Lord Jesus, Tender Lover of this brute soul, wilt Thou make me weak? I long to understand Thy sufficiency and my inadequacy, and how can I sense this except in experience? So, Lord, Thou knowest what I am able to bear. Send trouble that I might know peace; send anxiety that I might know rest in Thee. Send hard things that I may learn to rely on Thy dissolving them. Strange askings, and I do not know what I speak, but “my desire is toward Thee”—anything that will intensify and make me tender, Savior. O desire to be like Thee, Thou knowest.

– Jim Elliot –
From his journal, October 27, 1948

Do Not Strive In Your Own Strength – Andrew Murray

Do not strive in your own strength; cast yourself at the feet of the Lord Jesus, and wait upon Him in the sure confidence that He is with you, and works in you. Strive in prayer; let faith fill your heart—so will you be strong in the Lord, and in the power of His might.

– Andrew Murray –

The Purity of Gold – Amy Carmichael

The goldsmith never leaves his crucible once it has entered the fire. He periodically lifts out the gold, lets it cool, rubs it between his fingers, and if not satisfied puts it back … This time he blows the fire hotter than it was before, and each time he puts the gold back into the crucible, the heat of the fire is increased, “It could not bear it so hot at first, but it can bear it now; what would have destroyed it then helps it now.” “How do you know when the gold is purified?” we asked, and he answered, “When I can see my face in it, then it is pure.”

– Amy Carmichael –
from Gold Cord

The Changed Cross – Mrs. Charles Hobart

It was a time of sadness, and my heart,
Although it knew and loved the better part,
Felt wearied with the conflict and the strife,
And all the needful discipline of life.
 
And while I thought on these, as given to me,
     My trial-tests of faith and love to be,
It seemed as if I never could be sure
That faithful to the end I should endure.

And thus, no longer trusting to his might
Who says, “We walk by faith and not by sight,”
Doubting, and almost yielding to despair,
The thought arose, “My cross I cannot bear.
 
“Far heavier its weight must surely be
Than those of others which I daily see;
Oh! if I might another burden choose,
Methinks I should not fear my crown to lose.”

A solemn silence reigned on all around,
E’en Nature’s voices uttered not a sound;
The evening shadows seemed of peace to tell,
And sleep upon my weary spirit fell.
       
A moment’s pause,—and then a heavenly light
Beamed full upon my wondering, raptured sight;
Angels on silvery wings seemed everywhere,
And angels’ music thrilled the balmy air.

Then One, more fair than all the rest to see,
One to whom all the others bowed the knee,
Came gently to me, as I trembling lay,
And, “Follow me,” he said; “I am the Way.”
 
Then, speaking thus, he led me far above,
And there, beneath a canopy of love,
Crosses of divers shape and size were seen,
Larger and smaller than my own had been.

And one there was, most beauteous to behold,—
A little one, with jewels set in gold.
“Ah! this,” methought, “I can with comfort wear,
For it will be an easy one to bear.”
 
And so the little cross I quickly took,
But all at once my frame beneath it shook;
The sparkling jewels, fair were they to see,
But far too heavy was their weight for me.

“This may not be,” I cried, and looked again,
To see if there was any here could ease my pain;
But, one by one, I passed them slowly by,
Till on a lovely one I cast my eye.
 
Fair flowers around its sculptured form entwined,
And grace and beauty seemed in it combined.
Wondering, I gazed,—and still I wondered more,
To think so many should have passed it o’er.

But oh! that form so beautiful to see
Soon made its hidden sorrows known to me;
Thorns lay beneath those flowers and colors fair;
Sorrowing, I said, “This cross I may not bear.”
 
And so it was with each and all around,—
Not one to suit my need could there be found;
Weeping, I laid each heavy burden down,
As my Guide gently said, “No cross,—no crown.”

At length to him I raised my saddened heart;
He knew its sorrows, bade its doubts depart;
“Be not afraid,” he said, “but trust in me;
My perfect love shall now be shown to thee.”
 
And then, with lightened eyes and willing feet,
Again I turned my earthly cross to meet;
With forward footsteps, turning not aside,
For fear some hidden evil might betide;

And there—in the prepared, appointed way,
Listening to hear, and ready to obey—
A cross I quickly found of plainest form,
With only words of love inscribed thereon.
 
With thankfulness I raised it from the rest,
And joyfully acknowledged it the best,—
The only one, of all the many there,
That I could feel was good for me to bear.

And, while I thus my chosen one confessed,
I saw a heavenly brightness on it rest;
And as I bent, my burden to sustain,
I recognized my own old cross again.
 
But oh! how different did it seem to be,
Now I had learned its preciousness to see!
No longer could I unbelieving say
“Perhaps another is a better way.”

Ah, no! henceforth my one desire shall be,
That he who knows me best should choose for me;
And so, whate’er his love sees good to send,
I ’ll trust it ’s best,—because he knows the end.

– Mrs. Charles Hobart –
The Changed Cross