Feathers For Arrows

"Crossing the Col D'Obbia, the mule laden with our luggage sank in the snow, nor could it be recovered until its load was removed; then, but not till then, it scrambled out of the hole it had made, and pursued its journey. It reminded us of mariners casting out the lading into the sea to save the vessel, and we were led to meditate upon the dangers of Christians heavily laden with earthly possessions, and the wise way in which the gracious Father unloads them by their losses that they may be enabled to pursue their journey to heaven, and no longer sink in the snow of carnal-mindedness."

Wow. No one writes likes this anymore. Thick prose, perfect verbiage that paints on the canvas of your mind.

And still makes a great point.

It feels heightened, as if written with quill and inkpot, rather than MacBook Pro. It is a small excerpt from Feathers for Arrows, a book of illustrations by C.H. Spurgeon, and I happened upon in by accident; one of those web pages that you have no idea how you got there...but I'm supremely glad I did.

I was pondering this morning about the passage in Matthew, where Jesus talks about not being able to serve two masters. You'll hate one, and love the other, Jesus says. But in reading some commentaries on this Scripture, another perspective emerged:

Two masters cannot share one slave.

In ancient times, two masters rarely shared slaves. But when they did, it always led to divided interests. Two masters cannot have complete control over one slave, because the slave must give fully of himself to only one master.

So basically, God either has all of you, or none of you. It's a sobering thought, to be sure. I might think that I am completely sold out to God, and His leading, and His direction and instruction, but I know there are things that I want to do, that I want to have, and that I want to possess.

All of me, or none of me. Not parts, not pieces. Nothing hidden, or held back. Everything, or nothing. Treasure for the here and now, or treasure for the hereafter. It makes me wonder just how many Christians are truly bondslaves, as Paul calls them. I know I'm not. As much as I want to be, desire at times still trumps destiny.

But Lord, I'm striving. I know we all are, just trying day by day to keep the world at bay while we strain to hear His voice. Some days are easier, and some days are impossible. It's encouraging, however, to know that God will lift the burden, help us shake off the luggage, or as Spurgeon writes so eloquently,

"the wise way in which the gracious Father unloads them by their losses that they may be enabled to pursue their journey to heaven, and no longer sink in the snow of carnal-mindedness."

God enables us to lose that we may gain. Amazing, amazing thought.