The great privilege of hearing anointed messages From "America's Oswald Chambers" was a gift of my youth. One of his wonderful messages-- on Psalm 23-- waits to speak to your heart, as it has to mine:
DELIVERED FROM DISCONTENT
The "wanting" nature of the carnal heart is never satisfied, for it is the very substance of discontent. Its desires are deceitful. The more it is humored, the more drastic and driving are its demands. Finally the physical body is consumed in the flame of dissatisfaction. The competition which causes one person to exceed another comes from some inner distress.
The contented sheep depends on the shepherd to supply his needs; and whether the sheep knows it or not, he should be worth his care. Does it change the thought to say, "I am the Lord's sheep"? A person might feel as if all the responsibility rested on the Lord when he says, "The Lord is my Shepherd." But if I am the Lord's sheep, I am not my own; therefore it is not for me to plan for my own comforts or to seek to evade hardships.
To lie down in green pastures is the opposite of that nature which feels that it never has enough. It would be strange for a person to say in the midst of great opportunities: "I have enough. I shall let some other person find his share." The still waters reveal the undisturbed peace of the Lord's heart. "If any man thirst let him come unto me, and drink."
Man was led to seek his own glory when he took the path of unrighteousness, and he lost his soul. Now the Lord restores our soul and leads us in the paths of righteousness which reveal the power of His name. All that is worthwhile is what He has done for us. The Apostle Paul said, "By the grace of God I am what I am."
Divine contentment never fears what is included in the path of righteousness. The contented sheep would as quickly die for the Lord as to express abounding life in worship and praise. It may seen as if we had missed the way; but the Shepherd comes in due season, even if, as in Job's case, it appears that He has forgotten us. When He says, "Here I am," the trusting heart relaxes in His care.
To find soul food where the enemy expected that you would perish, proves that you took the right way through the valley when death threatened to lay claim on you. The Shepherd knows that our poor old heads need a fresh anointing from time to time to enable us to think clearly. Those touches of His power cause the heart to run over in gratitude for His care.
I goodness and mercy are following us, we are following the Lord; for we appreciate what He has meant to us only as we learn to depend fully on Him. If all that He has been to us is increasing within us, we are on our way to fine the fullness of Redemption which shall last forever. ---E. A. Gafford
Childhood is lacking something without animals. Yesterday's topic brought back memories from the long-ago. A tiny tot with a big imagination, I was playing in the orchard with my brothers when the family cat came toward us, her voice raised emphatically. The boys were all for getting on with the game, but as the cat persisted and insisted, I finally followed her. She would go a few steps, look back and mew at me and then repeat the sequence. Thinking she had something important on her mind, I trotted after her until we came to the cellar. She went inside, climbed the wall, and entered a hole in it. Excitedly I checked the hole....nothing there! Mystified, I went out and climbed into the sandbox where my untamed mind scurried into sand castles-- but not before noting that the cat had followed me out and was resting in the sun nearby. I wondered whether the cat was disappointed or satisfied; I was both. When the sun began to dip behind the mountain, I glanced up and blinked my eyes in disbelief. A damp little creature bobbed its head beside the cat. I jumped up for closer inspection of the youngest creature I had met. As I pranced along, the mother cat took her kitten in her mouth and carried it to the cellar. Eyes round with wonder, I saw her climb the wall and take her kitten inside the hole she had for her nest. To this day I cannot explain why that cat wanted to share such a special time with such a small child; but it made a deep impression. From then on, cats were my friends.
It also set the stage for another occasion, another cat, another year. Up early bouncing along in the dewy grass, I met our yowling cat, who looked like the lease on her ninth life was running out. When I spoke to her, she ran a short way and looked back and called to me. This time, it didn't take long for me to figure out that I should follow. The cat made a beeline for the neighbors' barn, where I hung back, reluctant to trespass. The cat insisted that this was urgent, so I braved up and followed her in amongst the hay bales. She descended into a crevasse and I heard a chorus of newborn voices demanding her attention. I was eager to report my news to the family, and point out the hideout. But as the day advanced, I realized something was very wrong: the mother cat was gone! It took till nightfall to persuade my mother of this, and get permission to bring the kittens home, but at last I succeeded. Much to our delight, there were four kittens, one for each of us children; (mine was Little Boy Blue)....but the care of all them was all mine! A doll bottle was just right to feed them, accompanied by songs for lullabies; but as fun as that was,I felt guilty that my childish forgetfulness, and frequent inability to awake for night feedings made for inadequate mothering. Happily, the kittens didn't seem to mind. Soon they could be seen riding around in toy trucks, or toddling stiff-legged with tails straight up. Best of all was the moment when I went to get the kittens for a feeding and would find the wide baby eyes of Little Boy Blue gazing up with the adoring look reserved only for a mother. Responsibility and all, I loved every minute. After a month away, the thin mother cat amazed us by reappearing, when, with lavish purring, she thanked me for rescuing her babies. I still needed to give bottles after that, and she did the rest. Then, like Little Boy Blue in the poem, "angels came to awaken" the little fellows--actually it was a rude awakening by DOGS,-- and a heartbreaking ending to my baby-fostering adventure.
Balaam's donkey, Jonah's whale, Peter's rooster, David's sheep,Daniel's lions, Noah's dove....just a few instances of how God wove an animal into the theme of someone's life. I've had on my mind lately the special way God uses animals to accomplish His purposes in a life, and considering that this may not have ceased with Bible times.In fact, I was able to discover an interesting motif in my own case of a tiny kitten! Yes, a helpless baby kitten was used in my saddest of days and my gladdest of days: with a death and with a birth. Want to hear how?
The saddest day began with shocking news of sweet little Susana's death. Years before when she and her older sister were star pupils in the Sunday School we started, she had led in broken-hearted prayer for her family, as her mentally- unstable parents often quarreled. Just entering her teens now, she found no way out but suicide. Stunned by the news, we asked ourselves why we had not reached out to her, and were overwhelmed with the reality that it was too late to do anything. At that moment kitten cries had me rushing outside-- only to find three-week old Mimi had fallen from the fourth floor balcony! You see, Mimi was the offspring of an abandoned cat, who in turn abandoned her soon after birth. Hearing her desperate cries one night I had climbed out of bed trekked out in the dark in search of the little orphan, and tended, fed, bundled, and soothed her extreme distress....and not slept all night. Since we were soon leaving for America, a few days later I taught a friend of Christian's to feed Mimi with a syringe, and he adopted her. Now she was mortally wounded, and being able to minister to this severely hurting creature, so fittingly similar to the painful case we were grappling with, was used to help handle our feelings of helpless grief. After Mimi's life ceased, we went to Susana's funeral, an ordeal for everyone. I helped transfer Susana into the coffin, which was so narrow, her hands shot up, spilling the toys she was holding, reminding that it is not possible to take anything with us out of this world. The parents made frantic dashes toward the coffin periodically, only to be restrained; the sister fainted, and Frank carried her out. In the midst of the wild grief, the dear godly grandmother was upheld. And so was I, scarcely realizing how God had used the sad accident of a dying kitten to prepare for this agonizing hour.
The gladdest day was preceded by an incident four weeks earlier, in which we had gone to pray with a seriously injured man. I was called away from the prayer session to the living room to help with the birth of a kitten. The mother cat was tied in a pan so that her placentas could be harvested for medicine for the injured man; but the second kitten was breech, and all efforts to extract its head had failed. After prolonged effort, I had a dead kitten in my hands. Thinking how valuable would be the experience, I put everything into resuscitation, and was rewarded a few minutes later with a gasp that was followed eventually by normal breathing of a healthy kitten. Fast forward four weeks into May, and I am sitting on a train bunk, with my Bible beside me, dwelling on (and in) Galations 5: "walking in the Spirit". Just then there came over the loudspeaker the first of three calls for a doctor in the next car. On the third call, it was specified that a birth was imminent....and that's all I needed to hear. A minute later I was entering the curtained- off end of the sleeper car where indeed a birth sounded imminent, though I had a hard time believing it could be that quick, with the givens of a Chinese first child ( that it was an "illegal" second I did not learn till later.) The mother said the baby was a few weeks early, but it felt big enough; yet something about the position puzzled me. I put it from my mind as I realized it was time to welcome the baby NOW! I was in for a big surprise, for this little one literally put her best foot forward! A footling breech, and no back up! There was no panic, just Galatians 5 to stand on. Before the second foot was located, in came the dad from a hard seat (cheaper) car. He sighed and silently paced, until I asked him to lift his wife into an upright position. It appeared that the baby girl had her hands up praising the Lord...then, after those were out, came the perilous part: the head! Clear in my memory was the experience with the breech kitten, which I now saw the value of. Calling aloud on the Name of the Lord, I then marveled at how He undertook for us. Joy spread all through the train as the news was relayed that the baby had arrived safely. The parents asked me to name her, and almost at once I chose "Meiyi" for the "Beautiful Will of God". Honoring the event, and connecting it with the most wonderful of all births, the sweet strains of "Silent Night" wafted through the train as I cuddled the freshly- dressed, sweet Meiyi.
Reflect: what animal has God used in your life? Would you share?
Shall I start with the mystery/detective story, or save that for last? Oh, all right, then.......here goes: Emerging from the mountain area in this morning's light drizzle, I met a young, agitated woman hurrying along with a towel-wrapped bundle cradled against her heart. My attention arrested, I looked after her, and saw her peeking furtively into one end of the treasured bundle, and my curiosity was piqued. Was it alive? I lurked where I could watch her go up the steps, but she didn't. Instead she veered off into the bushes, where she crouched down, but seeming aware that she was being watched, she moved farther away and was next sighted (from my new vantage point on the mountain), under some trees, bent down with her back to me. I watched and prayed, and suddenly, as though she sensed eyes on her, she turned and shot a glare straight up at where I stood. After that, I was more discrete; occasional glimpses showed her bowed as though in despairing grief. Then she simply vanished. Descending rapidly, I located the mystery site, where I was sure the mystery bundle could be found; but a careful search revealed nothing at all. Rudimentary detective skills (no use playing Sherlock Holmes!) turned up no treasure, nothing, not a twig out of place. I hated to leave, in case something had been buried alive.... So I picked up a stick, and looked for a place to excavate. I promptly chose one, and as I dug I imagined the site formed an ever-so- slight mound. Shortly the excavation yielded something brownish, which at first I did not recognize as The Towel. THE TOWEL...this was it!! Then as I shakily unearthed the finding, a horror of discovering something sinister gripped me, only to be superceded by the need to proceed. In an instant the mystery was solved, and there in The Towel lay exposed.....the body..... of a large dark bird of the talking variety, and with it all the feeding and watering equipment for the bird to eat, drink, and be merry in its after-life! Aiya! Only this and nothing more! Abrupt end of story.
An intriguing custom of this culture is for older men to carry around their birds in cages (a strictly masculine pastime.) On a nice morning, the woods near where the beloved bird lies buried are full of the delightful music of birds caroling from a multiplicity of cages hung here and there in the trees.
The last couple of days were full. Annelisa baked banana cut-out cookies with her little boy pupils, (who had a great time judging by the looks of the floor), we went to two mountain areas to look at apartments, Christian and Annelisa took their Chinese exam at the university, and we had a feast with friends. At the exam, Christian was seated between a man from South Korea and one from North Korea, the latter bending a look of disapproval on his American passport. The children reported that they were the only English speakers, and that some marveled that "Americans speak Chinese so well" ;). The feast we were invited to was designed to allow us to see a sister we have been prevented from seeing, (though we know her well), who is leaving after being in the city for months. Mysteriously (and if I get to the bottom of this mystery, don't think I'll be telling you).... she was not at the feast, which featured huge spicy drumsticks (goat...with the flavor of Muslim shish kabobs, mmm!). There was opportunity to counsel the daughter, who has fallen away and now attends the official church (not to mention being mixed up in the mystery.) One brother told her about his grandparents going to prison rather than joining the approved church, the grandfather enduring torture during his 25 years of incarceration. There was a special sense of God giving words.
Among our neighbors, there was a wedding and a funeral over the weekend. The former meant that our eardrums and nerves were nearly shattered by the roar of hundreds of firecrackers right below us, while the latter meant that we were awakened at exactly 2:37 this morning by the cacaphony of gongs, cymbals, and a dirge based seemingly on a three-note scale. Wedding decorations are not about a church, but rather a car (or two) which are beautifully adorned with flowers in patterns like a heart. And what the heathen funeral processions are really about, I have never understood-- and Frank declines to enlarge on anything so "demonic". Oh, the hopeless darkness, without our Light and eternal Hope! We are so little aware of the magnitude of our precious blessings.
Perched upon the porch of a tomb on the mountain with my Bible this morning, I was surprised by a skinny, golden civet approaching (resembled the smaller unidentified creature I saw here in Asian village). The mountains are dotted with ancient tombs (Christian saw one dated earlier than the American revolution) but soon all are to be removed....and then I wonder where people will take their food offerings for the dead? Right after Resurrection Day I found myself seated on the stone of an empty tomb, recalling the song from the day before: "An empty tomb is there to prove my Saviour lives..."
As I returned home, a man scurried toward me waving a hand to detain me, until he could pronounce me a rich foreigner. "A WHAT?" "You have lots of money," he explained as he sped away. I looked after him with the feeling of a lost opportunity. Gone was my chance to explain that as a child of the resurrection, my riches were not of this world, that the American Dream is self-realization by Mammon inevitably morphing into the American Nightmare. On the other hand, the Heavenly Vision is Christ-realization by the Cross leading, just as surely, to Glory.
Way-out-of-it as we are, even we (not to mention the locals) didn't know it was Fuhou Jie (Resurrection Festival)-- until an e-mail this morning alerted us! That is really what you call "behind the times" ! China has not yet taken up with celebrating Easter ( a pagan word better replaced by the Chinese name, wouldn't you say?). I already had my Sunday School lesson on Joshua planned, but I did add a little on the resurrection, teaching a chorus to go with it, nobly assisted by Annelisa. I think eventually "Easter" will catch on here, but it is likely to be as pagan as Christmas, which is all about the jolly fat red elf. We were at the official church bookstore yesterday, and "Father Christmas" (as they call Santa) was as well represented as Jesus, even there. I've gathered from students in the past that the general vague impression is that the "Christmas Baby's" parents were "Father Christmas" and "Merry Christmas". We are surely better off skipping a pagan Easter! On the other hand, one year we had an international worship service where we greeted each other after the old custom with "He is risen!" answered by "He is risen indeed!" That and singing about the resurrection with people from all over the globe (heavy to Africans, and who can sing like they can!) was thrilling.
Annelisa's cookie baking class did cut out crosses yesterday---they surely enjoyed their first baking lesson, as few Chinese have an oven, or know how to bake. The mothers of the girls joined in as enthusiastically as the girls, practicing English right along with them.
I could mention that we hiked a couple of miles to the service through the
forest...of high-rises. Some new faces were in the service, including the driver from Christian's trip last Monday--he had listened with interest to the Gospel then, and promised to come to church. And he did, entering right in. After the service we enjoyed a meal together, different ones having brought some unique dishes including a kind of root from Yunnan. By the way, to those of you who have read Isobel Kuhn's books, or "MOUNTAIN RAIN" ( a must-read about what God did through J. O. Fraser) will be quite interested to know that our group is planning to hand-carry an offering to the Lisu tribe in Yunnan to help with the printing of their new songbook. (Out of the abundance of their poverty, the Lisu Christians generously contributed to earthquake relief last year.) After the dinner, many of us could be found sitting in the grass fellowshiping ,the sun beating upon us, while trickles of rain doused us from little spouts in the heavens, and myriad clusters of wisteria delighted us with their heady fragrance. The center of God's will is the place to be, even when you're missing out on favorite traditions! REJOICE... HE IS RISEN INDEED!
Muslims call them "laqeet" : "a baby picked up from death", and finding and nurturing such is as high as privilege gets (and what could be sweeter, evoking as it does God picking us up from the trash heap!) Our privilege has been high, but not quite that high, for we have welcomed a number of foundlings since coming to this province; alas, all of them were furry or feathered! Our rewarding work with the "orphelins" always inspired hope of greater things, yet our small-creature opportunites have left a parade of memories.
The morning after we arrived in Taizhou to teach kindergarten in each of the tri-cities, I came upon a tiny tri-colored kitten in a trash heap. I picked her up and carried her home, where, hiding her in my cupped hands, I said, "Surprise!" and presented her to the children. "Surprise" became a bottle baby, barely surviving her bad case of fleas, but growing so lively she was mistaken for a monkey. She led a merry life with us, but outside it was different. A man kicked her into the pond, and when I chided him with the words "Don't you know cats can't swim?" he laconically pointed at Surprise who was swimming for shore! Not long after, she came home with a bleeding head and compound fracture that left her somewhat lame in spite of our best care.
Caromel was a desperate abandoned kitten I found by the roadside, and Licorice, Frank rescued near the same spot a week later. Licorice, who was the scrawniest, most pathetic specimin of kitten we ever saw, pulled through to be our longevity pet, escaping for years the clutches of neighbors fond of "Kentucky fried kitty". Then there was the cat I found run over on the street, and brought home thinking she was ours. Our little daughter's tears dried fast, when our cat showed up to sympathize with her mortally-wounded twin. We nursed another mortally-wounded cat that our son went down into a dry pool to rescue after it had been abused. These last two cats finished their ninth life in "hospice" care, with budding doctors in attendance.
An Asian sparrow hit by a bus, and rescued , (remarkably, by the driver!) joined our family for a slow recovery (slowed more by our spiteful parakeet!)and was released to soar again.
A heart-wrenching scene in the middle of the street met my gaze one morning: two
puppies, one inside-out after being run over, and the other standing desperately-determined guard over its sibling, unaware that to stay meant death from the next car. That traumatized puppy came home only needing comfort, as it was healthy. But another pup I found near that same place used her last dregs of energy to lick my foot and wag her tail once as she looked up pleadingly. She was dying of starvation and a loathsome skin disease. For days she lay motionless in a basket on our balcony, while I honed my nursing skills. To our satisfaction, Dogged made a complete recovery and was an attractive, faithful pet.
Another foundling was a discarded dead chick on the sidewalk. I peered at it, and put it inside my clothes, where it began gasping and then cheeping, and slowly revived for a short and sweet life.
Most dramatic was the saga of Serendipity...... We stopped at the animal market, and shortly heard cries coming from a garbage can. Investigation revealed puppy bodies in various stages of death, but the tiniest and filthiest was dancing desperately on top, screaming for help. Our beholding this shameful tableau brought down wrath upon our heads from the sellers, who ordered us off in no uncertain terms. We moved on. But it didn't take long for me to realize I couldn't live with myself if I, too, abandoned that desperate little life. Scooping a piece of plastic from the ground, I marched swiftly to the can, swept off the lid and in one fell swoop, grabbed the little foundling in the plastic and was out the gate climbing into a taxi with my accomplices before the stunned sellers could lift a finger or find their voices to prevent the heist. After a bath, Serendipity (Pity for short) turned out to be snow-white, and the most devoted little darling until death.
What will we find next....? Your guess is better than mine.
Clear Light Festival is a holiday for ancestor worship, but we had no trouble finding much better things to do. It turned out to be the nicest outing yet for the group that went to Heron Hill and Bamboo Valley. On the mountain hike we harvested wild "vegetables": mainly budding ferns (very nutritious!). I had been wanting to see the wild blossoms, and there they were in reds, and violets, and pinks, decorating the slopes that are home to forty bird species, (though we mainly saw snakes). Earlier we'd toured the Fangs' new home, all gorgeously done in light wood just full of knots---it was really something to see! Bro. Fang is especially talented in interior decoration. Later, our picnic by the water finished, we were rejuvenated enough to perform all kinds of exercises on the wide variety of unusual play equipment, and I have to say, much of that you would have had to have seen to believe, (though some of us would surely have been embarrassed to be seen swinging like monkeys if you had been there.) In the fresh, fragrant mountain air, amid Nature's splendors, we were invigorated and renewed remarkably. I recommend the nature cure.
Christian went with his student HaoHao's family to Thousand Islands and is not yet back, but was boating when last heard from.
(Guest blogger Annelisa)
Here are some pictures of my little "nephew" ,or well,the closest thing to a nephew that I have at the present. His Mom,Rachel,has lived with us for extended periods of time off and on for as long as I can remember,so I've always thought of her as kind of a "big sister". For that matter,his Dad Jacob,lived with us for several months while he and Rachel were dating,so all and all we know the family quite well. And don't you think their names are cute? Jacob,Rachel,and Joseph:)
Now,on to bragging on Joseph. I must say that what he lacks in size he's made up for in brains...at 20 months old he can count to 30,identify the basic colors,speak fluent toddler Chinese(which includes getting the tones correctly),point to any body part when asked to in either English or Chinese,and the list goes on. It's amazing how he promptly names anything you point at,or at least what he thinks it resembles! He also understands adult conversations with amazing accuracy. Like the other day we were marching up the stairs to our apt. when his mom mentioned something about how treacherous the steep stairs seemed in the dim light. Joseph immediately pointed to the light bulb dangling over our heads and announced,all in Chinese of course," IT'S BROKEN!" Then after a moment of consideration he concluded,"Fix it,Grandpa Wu will fix it!" Imagine that,he'd only been to our place once before,yet he knew that my dad lived there as soon as we entered the building;and obviously he knew that light bulbs generated light,and if light was lacking, a light bulb somewhere needed to be fixed. Maybe his parents gave him the wrong name after all: he should have been called Edison!
As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth even forever. (Psalm 125:2)
The blossoms of early spring have taken their loveliness from our view, and though I miss them, the nice thing here in Hangzhou is there is always something in bloom the year around. We lose one set of blossoms, to gain another, and some of the most exquisite like the crepe myrtle are still to be anticipated. On our trip yesterday into the mountains west of the city, I noted that they had managed to hold onto their March blossoms longer in the cooler air. We looked at several apartments in the new housing development called Green Field Spring, but didn't feel clear to order one . The Lord may have something closer in for us. The mountain scenery was striking with the closest mountains ringed with tea bushes, and higher ranges rising behind. We felt sorry for the farmers, though--- having their property taken for all those high rises.