Part 9 (2/2)

Riches of Grace E. E. Byrum 95160K 2022-07-22

Harshness Independence

Self-sufficiency Headiness

Self-will Criticism

Criticism Loose handling of Word

Zeal for written commands Exaltation of Spirit above Word

Exaction Undue liberty

Bondage Compromise

Fanaticism

INDIFFERENCE OR DOUBTS

Such a revelation of my heart should have helped me, but so blind was I that the only change it wrought was to turn the weapons of harshness, criticism, and exaction upon myself. And for three long miserable years, with a heart like a stone so far as feelings were concerned, I wrestled with doubts and fears and tried, oh, so hard! to reach the standard of spirituality which I had formerly held up for others. Labor in prayer as I would, the light would not dispel the darkness, the stony heart would not soften, except for a short season. Then, how I gloried in the light and how I mourned when it was dark again! Worse than all else, there fell upon my soul a state of seeming indifference to my condition and carelessness toward both G.o.d, the souls of others, and myself. Stir myself out of it, I could not. Sorrow and joy alike seemed strangers to me. As there was no blessing, so there was no grief. There was a great calm, but it was the calm of the grave; it was not peace. When reproved for causing trials to others, as I often needed to be, I endeavored not to be guilty of the same offense again; but no matter what I did, I seemed to experience no great depth of sorrow. Withal there developed a lightness quite foreign to what I had been by nature or grace. I seemed to live only upon the surface, and to have no ability to reach any depth of grace. This I deplored, and longed for the blessing of genuine sorrow. How often I wished that I had never heard the truth if only I might have the chance to begin all over again!

I lived in circles, making no progress. Daily I prayed for a return of the joy, love, peace, and victory I had once known. Sometimes the clouds rifted a little, and I gloried in it, thinking that surely the Lord had heard, and I should be delivered; but soon I would feel the same dulness settle down, leaving in me the same aching void as before.

Again and again I tried to repent, thinking that I surely must be a sinner; but I could not work up any earnestness, nor could I find anything in particular of which to repent, only the darkness and general dissatisfaction which I was experiencing. If only I could have begun again; but there seemed no place from which to start, no foundation for my feet, and I felt myself almost entirely swallowed in the quicksand of despondency and discouragement. I realized then the force of the Psalmist's words, ”If the foundations be removed, what shall the righteous do?”

DISCOURAGEMENTS

At last my thoughtlessness brought upon me some very severe reproofs.

I knew that I was not feeling the weight of them as I should, and I knew also that unless I should be able in some way to see why I did such things I could never get any help. Why should I, who longed to be a soul-winner, be a source of trial to others? Having at last gotten it settled that there was something fundamentally wrong, I determined not to content myself until I should discover what it was. Instead of praying as I had done for so long, for love, joy, etc., I endeavored to humble myself before G.o.d and entreat him to show me what was wrong within. I made very slow progress. A day of fasting and prayer revealed nothing. But I would not cease searching my heart. It was very dry praying, for I had no ability even to feel sorry that my condition was so bad; but I had one promise to which I clung desperately: ”They that seek the Lord shall not want any good thing” (Psa. 34:10). I could not make myself feel, nor change my state, but I could seek. And it was within my power, as it is within the power of all, to believe that he would be found of me.

At last, little by little, it dawned upon me that I was selfish. The reader may smile, as I myself do now, that I did not know it before.

But up to that time I had never stopped to consider why I did things.

If I spoke harshly, I was sorry and begged pardon, but it never occurred to me to think why I had spoken so, except that something had not pleased me. If I prayed when I felt inclined and neglected prayer when I did not feel inclined to pray, I knew that I had neglected duty, but to consider why I had neglected it never entered my mind. If words not unto edification escaped my lips, I was ashamed, but my motive for so speaking was unknown to me. But now the Lord showed me clearly that a desire for personal pleasure and profit lurked deep at the root of all those acts of indifference and carelessness. Grateful for one ray of light, I sought again his presence and cried, ”But why, O Lord, should I, who have tasted thy divine grace, who have felt the sanctifying power of thy Holy Spirit--why should I be selfish?” My spiritual eye was regaining its sight now and my ear its keenness, so that through many days, in the testimonies of others, through reading, and in prayer and meditation, the answer came by degrees, until at last I understood.

SELF-LOVE AND PURE LOVE

There is, I learned, in every human heart an element called self-love.

This is not sinful in itself, being synonymous with that desire for happiness which is the medium through which G.o.d appeals to the soul.

It is not annihilated in the sanctified soul, else Jesus could not have said, ”Love thy neighbor as thyself,” but it is there subordinated to that pure love which places G.o.d first in all circ.u.mstances. To love the Lord with all the heart, might, mind, and strength is to love with pure love; but the heart that loves thus still contains self-love, and it is through this property of the soul that the sanctified can be tempted.

Adam was a perfect man, with a perfectly pure heart; but when tempted to obtain something which promised to improve his state and increase his happiness, he proved that he loved himself by yielding to the temptation. It is this part of ourselves which must daily be denied lest it degenerate into selfishness and cause us trouble. There is a degree to which this self-love and pure love may become mixed in our service to G.o.d. This had happened in my case.

Pure love serves without any hope of reward. When light and peace and joy fill the soul, or when grief, sorrow, or loneliness presses the heart, pure love goes on loving and serving. Pure love desires, not to be pleased, but to please. It gives all and demands nothing in return.

It loves G.o.d, not so much for what he has done for the soul, or for what the soul expects him to do for it, but for what he IS. It seeks him, not so much that it may be blessed, as that it may be a pleasure to him.

It desires, not so much satisfaction for its own heart, as that he may be satisfied with it. It seeks not place nor position nor anything, but only that HE may find pleasure in it, that HE may be able to rejoice in the work of his hand. If it pleases him to give good things, the soul is grateful, but does not forget that the Giver is more than the gift.

If evil comes, pure love can quietly rest, desiring naught for self, but all for him. Even if his face is hidden, pure love, though feeling keenly the absence of its beloved, can still say in sweet submission, ”Thy will be done”; for it feels itself unworthy of any blessing and so is content with whatever its Lord is pleased to do. It yields itself to the Author of every good, and, trusting his love, receives thankfully and in deep humility what he pleases to give and as gratefully humbles itself to go without what he does not please to give. ”Willingly to receive what thou givest, to lack what thou withholdest, to relinquish what thou takest, to suffer what thou inflictest, to be what thou requirest”--this is pure love and real consecration.

SEEING MY CONDITION

As G.o.d revealed this precious truth, I felt as though some one had said of me, ”Doth Job serve G.o.d for naught?” and that G.o.d could not have justified me as he did Job. My own heart showed me self-seeking. I saw then that I had prayed to be blessed; that I had longed for satisfaction; that I had sought for joy and peace and love and spirituality, partly at least, that I might be satisfied and well pleased with myself, and, furthermore, that I might be considered spiritual among the brethren.

Also, I was honestly anxious to be a blessing to others and in everything to be an ”example of the believers.” But to seek the Lord simply to please him never occurred to me, until I was reminded of his unselfish love for me. He desired me to be ”all for him,” not because my little all could make him any richer, but because it was only then that he could really be ”all for me” and bestow upon me the riches of his love. A sentence from Fenelon made me more ashamed than ever. It reads something like this: ”Would you serve G.o.d only as he gives you pleasure in serving him?”

LIGHT BREAKS UPON MY SOUL

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