Mighty Oak, Lowly Seed

We are inspired by the mighty oak far more than we are inspired by its seed. 

This morning the Lord ministered to me about the subtle idolatry of beautiful words. I love beautiful words and there is a desire present in me to inspire, to stand in front of a mighty army and pour forth words that build them up and inspire them to do great things. And that is a very dangerous desire. It is a fleshly desire that must be sanctified through periods of God-imposed silence. He asks, “Will you follow Me, even in the silence?” Yes Lord, for I know I must. 

This morning He showed me the shadowy outline of a human form and a seed was placed within it. The words that came into my mind were, “A small, lowly seed. Hidden. Unseen. Unnoticed.” But then the seed began to grow. Roots began to grow out into the body, then tender stems sprouted forth into the limbs of the body, and I watched as the whole human form was overtaken by the growth coming forth from that small, lowly seed. Every shadowy part of that form was eventually overtaken and filled with all the life that was contained in that hidden, unnoticed seed. And once the form was filled to capacity, branches broke through and grew outward, and that form became a mighty oak that spread out all over the land, and birds came and rested in its branches. 

This morning the Lord explained to me that I cannot build a house with beautiful words. Houses built merely with inspiring words will eventually grow into something that only feeds the flesh. For in our love of the inspiration that those words give, we will begin to desire the words more than the Word-Giver. Thus, we must understand that a house is built with a small, lowly seed. And it is only through that unnoticed, hidden seed that the mighty oak springs forth and covers the landscape with its awe-inspiring branches. 

So I prayed, “Oh Lord, give me lowly uninspiring seeds!”

(Matt 13:31,32) The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that a man planted in his field. Although it is the smallest of all seeds, yet it grows into the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and nest in its branches.

(John 12:24) Truly, truly, I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a seed; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.

(Is 61:3,4) …So they will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified. They will rebuild the ancient ruins; they will restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities, the desolations of many generations.

Life…Life…Life

 

“…life…life…life…left behind at every touch.”

I haven’t finished Carmichael’s book about Mimosa yet, but one of the things I’ve been contemplating the last few days while reading it, is something that Lilias Trotter said one day while observing a bee covered in pollen, “He was hovering over some blackberry sprays just touching flowers here and there, yet all unconsciously life…life…life…was left behind at every touch.” 

The day that Mimosa had her brief encounter with Amy Carmichael, and Carmichael only had time to tell her that there was a God in heaven Who loved her, life was left behind at that touch. That is because those who belong to the Lord and have been in His true presence, are like the bee covered in pollen, unconsciously leaving behind life at every touch.  Life begets life, and quite often, our begetting is done unconsciously simply by living the life that the Beloved has appointed us to live. 

Whether a teacher, a baker, or a candlestick maker, when we walk with the Lord, we are clothed with Him, and everything in our path is touched with His life-giving spirit. On the day that Mimosa was awakened to the truth of Who God is, it wasn’t because Carmichael’s words were particularly eloquent, nor many. It was simply because her words were full of the Lord’s life-giving spirit. And on that day, Carmichael left behind life…life…life…at every touch. 

Oh Lord, make us like the bee. 

(John 6:63) It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.

(John 5:21) For just as the Father raises the dead and gives them life, so also the Son gives life to whom He wishes.

(2 Cor 3:6) And He has qualified us as ministers of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.

(Acts 5:18-21) They arrested the apostles and put them in the public jail. But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jail and brought them out. “Go, stand in the temple courts,” he said, “and tell the people all about this new life.” At daybreak they entered the temple courts, as they had been told, and began to teach the people.

It Is Well

“I am not offended with you…it is well.”

These words cut my heart like a sword. I am currently reading a book by Amy Carmichael about a young Indian woman named Mimosa. When Mimosa was a child, she had a momentary encounter with Carmichael who simply told her that there was God in heaven Who loved her. After those few words were shared, Mimosa was whisked away by her father, back to the Hindu village where they lived, with no other Christians to explain anything to her, nor encourage her. But the seed of truth had been planted in her heart, and there was nothing it could do but grow. 

The book recounts the events of Mimosa’s life after that brief encounter. A life filled with hardship and tragedy. An arranged marriage to a husband who was in debt and would not work to help provide for his family. Her precious son who died in her arms. A life of work in the fields, rain or shine, while her babies waited hungry at home. A community that despised her, and scorned and ridiculed the God she served. A house made of mud that caved in all around her during the monsoon rains. And through it all, she looked to heaven and said to a God she barely knew, “I am not offended with you…it is well.”

Last night, as I got a little over halfway through the book, I closed it and began to contemplate how I would react if I were to endure Mimosa’s circumstances. Convicted by her simple, yet stoic faith, I asked God to help me have a heart like that. I prayed that He would sanctify me of self-pity, of any latent indignance, of any lurking tendency to offense in me. I prayed that no matter what my circumstances, no matter what I find myself appointed to endure, that I would have a heart which looks to heaven and says…

“I am not offended with you…it is well.”

(Matt 11:4-6) Jesus replied, “Go back and report to John what you hear and see: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. And blessed is any person who does not take offense at Me.”

(1 Thess 5:16-18) Rejoice always. Pray without ceasing. Give thanks in every circumstance, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

(Ps 34:1-3)  I will bless the LORD at all times; His praise will always be on my lips. My soul boasts in the LORD; let the oppressed hear and rejoice. Magnify the LORD with me; let us exalt His name together.