Spurgeon on “…let us cleanse ourselves…”

“Since we have these promises, beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from every defilement of body and spirit, bringing holiness to completion in the fear of God (2 Corinthians 7:1).”

photo courtesy of JoyInTheLittleThings blog

“It is easy to find out others’ faults and to bring the whole force of our mind to bear against them. It is delightful to expose vice and lampoon the follies of the age, adding a dash of wit to enliven it, or to preach virtue, with a little of the sugar of scandal to sweeten a painful tale. It highly gratifies some people when they can find a fault with some highly respected person. That is their forte, the strength of their genius, pulling to pieces what they could not put together and attempting to raise themselves by lowering others. But notice, the apostle says,”Let us cleanse ourselves.” It is all very well to drag the church of God up to the alter like some bleeding victim, and there to stab her with the sharpest knife of our criticism and to say that she is not this and she is not that. One might rather ask, “How far do I help to make her what she is? If she is degenerate, how far is that degeneracy consequent upon my having fallen from the high standing that I should have occupied?” We shall all have contributed out quota to the reform of the church when we are ourselves reformed. There can be no better way of promoting general holiness than by increasing in personal holiness.”
-C. H. Spurgeon, A Passion for Holiness in a Believer’s Life(compiled and edited by Robert Hall)

Pray for Carlee Hobbs

It has been a long time since either Josiah or I have posted here, and even now I’m not going to post anything about either of us. Rather, I would like to ask you to pray for a family friend.

Nathaniel, Carlee and baby Caleb

Carlee (Sobie) Hobbs, her husband, Nathaniel, and their children live up in Alaska. Just a few months ago, while pregnant with their fifth child, Carlee was diagnosed with breast cancer. So as to be able to begin treating the cancer, the doctors brought the baby to be born a bit early. Praise God!—despite some challenges, the little guy is now doing pretty well. And now Carlee is undergoing cancer treatments.

But there is another character that I have not introduced yet—in fact, I think the Hobbs would urge me to identify him as the main character. This is the Lord God Almighty. Through all of the profound trials and difficulties that the Hobbs family are walking through right now, they have been leaning on the arm of their Lord and Savior…and joyously telling of his mercy and kindness as they go!

To learn how to pray for the Hobbs family, and to read of their incredible testimony of faith, I encourage you to visit Carlee’s blog.

Pray for healing and strength! Pray for God’s name to be lifted up and magnified!

A Tidbit from my Sister

Here is a great quote from my sister’s blog. I don’t think it ever crossed her mind that anyone would quote her, and that’s exactly why it’s so great.

I suppose accepting and doing the “little things in life” with joy and gladness is what the Christian life is all about.

I am away at college right now, and I havent posted anything since I came down here to Dallas in January. But I have had a good excuse for my silence; I’ve been studying like mad and enjoying it emensely! If you don’t know, I am at the Graduate Institute of Applied Linguistics (GIAL) working on an undergraduate certificate in applied linguistics. This school is amazing. It is small, intense, incredibly pratical, academically rigerous, and humbly submitted to God’s glory. The faculty and staff here are very personable and god-fearing and the students here are really encouraging and fun. Well, that’s enough of an update-attached-to-a-quote.

Big Sis Enters Blogosphere

We are pleased to announce that our sister, Heather, has began blogging. Her website is called Joy in the Little Things. Here’s what Josiah and I have to say about our sister.

Stephen:

My sister Heather is like an ivy plant— beautiful, tender, resilient. She is the oldest child in our family, so she has been there since I was born. As I have grown up (for certain) and matured (hopefully), Heather has played an integral role in my life.

Heather is a dear friend. I don’t know how many long-into-the-night talks— deep talks, broad talks, jumping-from-subject-to-subject talks— we’ve had over the past few years. We’ve shared life, we’ve shared our hearts— our perplexities, our fears, our hopes, our dreams, our opinions, our one faith and shared vision.

Heather is an example. She is an example of meekness, of godliness, of a heart devoted to God. She has lived out this example, and she has reached out into my life. I still have notes, letters, and birthday cards that she given me… I probably have notes from my early teens to the present. These notes are deeply impressed with encouragement. Many a time, Heather has brought portions of the Scriptures to my attention, and she has done so with a gentleness and a humility that has burned deep into my soul.

Heather is a caring person. She helped care for me when I was young. And even now while I am yet living at home, she still looks out for me. She helps with our family’s laundry, she helps cook several times a week, she helps cleans the house (especially the overlooked things). She does so much, she is so much— much more than all of this.

Not that Heather doesn’t have struggles and weaknesses. This is what I so admire about Heather: she is very real, not a superwoman. But rather than trying to hide every weakness and sin, time and again I’ve seen Heather work to be transparent about her struggles. I can see God’s grace flowing in and over and through her life. I have seen that God’s grace has been sufficient for Heather, and this has encouraged me to continue to hunger and thirst after righteousness, to hold on to my faith in Christ.

Heather is like an ivy plant— beautiful, tender, resilient—and the tendrils of her love have reached deep into my heart.

Josiah:

I can attest to each of the same virtues and experiences that Stephen so poetically wrote about our sister Heather.

One godly character quality that I must say about Heather is her overflowing generosity. Heather’s generosity is demonstrated by her daily self-sacrifice to others. Heather has sacrificed her own desires to help her family members on numerous occasions, not only in the home but also in business ventures that continue on to this day. I couldn’t ask for a more devoted secretary.

I will never forget the generosity of my sister when she gave a little boy the last of her saved M&M’s when he had already gulped his own treat down many days before. I was that little boy and I (and many others) continue to experience the sweetness of Heather’s generosity on a daily basis.

Here’s a link to Heather’s blog: Joy in the Little Things

You will also find that we have added her blog to our Blogroll on the right.

To the Highways and Hedges: Part Two

—A Continuation of my Previous Story with Contributions from Matthew 22:11-14—

Reclining at the table, Becher looked about him, and couldn’t keep back a silly grin; there was so much splendor and joy in this house. Guests filled the large banquet hall, all wearing their finest wedding garments. Becher had no idea where the poor and crippled and blind and lame people were, the people that the messenger had told him had been invited. The one who had opened the door to them had returned to the head of the table. He was indeed the master, for he was the king. Becher was soon told that this was the wedding feast of the king’s son. As Becher looked about, he noticed that some attendants had now entered the hall, bringing more food. They were working their way around, serving the new guests.
Becher leaned back and greeted the man next to him, “Peace, brother!”
The man smiled, but looked a bit nervous. “That’s a fine robe you have on,” the man said.
“Yes,” Becher replied. “And you’ll never believe how I came by it.” Becher’s face was only sincere now. His eyes filled with awe; it was as if he was looking past or through the man next to him. “My family and I live to the east of the city,” began Becher. “When the messenger came, the sun had just slipped behind the hills, so we set out while the first stars were beginning to shine in the east.” Becher paused and followed the other man’s gaze up the table. The servants were a little nearer now, and the smell from the good food made Becher’s belly growl with hunger. “We were about halfway to the city gates,” Becher resumed, “when we passed through an evening shower. It was odd, because I hadn’t expected rain. The rain was warm, but the wind tugged at our cloaks and shawls. Away in the distance I thought I heard some thunder. Then the rain passed, and the new moon broke out of the clouds just above the mountains. And I looked down at my clothes, to see what the rain had done to me, but instead of my old rags, I saw this wonderful garment I now wear. These are wedding clothes, I said to myself.”

Sitting with the women, Becher’s wife leaned over to the woman she had just been talking to. “I don’t know what my husband is talking about,” she said with a perplexed look on her face. Both women looked over at Becher, who was busy telling his tale to the man next to him. “He keeps saying that we passed through a gentle shower on the way to this feast,” Becher’s wife continued. “A gentle shower! It was a thunderstorm. The thunder was so loud that I thought the very rocks were going to split in two! And the lightning came all around us, and the rain came in such torrents and the wind was so strong that it felt like my clothes had been ripped off and my skin was being pulled off my bones. It wasn’t just a little rain shower that we traveled through! But just like him,” her voice softened and a faraway look entered her eyes, “when the rain passed, I found that I was dressed in this marvelous wedding garment I am wearing.” She looked down at her dress and rubbed a fold of the fabric between her fingers.
“What about you?” she said, looking up at the woman next to her. “How did you come to this wedding feast?”
The other woman delicately wiped her fingers on a cloth, and straightened the little cluster of jewels that dangled on her brow. At the door, jewels had been given to all of the guests. The light glimmered and danced all around the room. Thoughtfully the woman finished chewing a morsel of fine food. She had already been at the table when Becher and his wife had arrived.
“The messenger,” the other woman said, “came to our door, and my father answered, for my husband went to sleep with his fathers two years ago, leaving me childless. My husband had no brothers,” she added almost as an afterthought. “My father was greatly interested in the messenger’s invitation, but seeing that we are very poor, he readily confessed that we had not the proper clothes for such a feast. ‘Worry not,’ the messenger said and then proceeded on his way. And then, you’ll never believe it, but as my father turned and shut the door, the tub that we use for bathing fell over in the back room where we keep it. Wary and half afraid, I peeked into the back room, and I saw that the tub now stood upright, filled with steaming water. Seeing it as a sign, my father quickly bathed, and he came back wearing a beautiful robe. That’s him up near the head of the table, the one with the long, white beard. My father was now eager to go to the feast, but my mother was very reluctant. My brother, God help him, scoffed at my father openly, and bustled out of the house to go… oh, but that’s beside the point! My mother stood firm, saying, “I have no need of a bath, and we are not beggars that we must rely on the charity of others, even if it is the king himself!” Caught in this mayhem, I went back and stepped into the tub. It was full— a thing we never do— and very warm. Oh, that water felt good! I scrubbed and soaked and it felt like it must have been hours, but father says I took only a few minutes. When I got out, a fine robe was laying there for me also. It wasn’t there when I got in the tub, for I remember wondering what I would wear once I got out. Still my mother would not come, so we left without her. Poor mother!” The woman paused for a moment, and then said, “Before we left our home, our maid came creeping out of that back room. She had also found wedding garments waiting for her when she stepped out of the tub, so my father couldn’t help but let her come with us.” A smile flashed across the woman’s face. “She is also sitting further up the table. There, she is picking up a fig right now!”

Becher watched intently while the attendant served him piles of wonderful things he had never seen or dreamt of eating. All of a sudden, the servant stopped, and glanced over his shoulder. The music paused, and then started up again a little softer. Becher looked up, and he saw that the king had begun to walk through the hall, greeting his beaming, grateful, and amazed guests. The servant waited to finish serving him, but Becher nibbled at the food already set before him. At last the master came to greet Becher. A profound sense that he had known him for ages swept over Becher. The master threw his arms around Becher, but all he could do was whisper, “Thank you!”
The king turned to greet the man beside Becher, and Becher saw that the king’s face suddenly clouded over. Sparks of fire seemed to leap from his eyes. “Friend,” the king said to him, “how did you get in here without a wedding garment?” Becher had not noticed before then, but it was true, the man next to him had no wedding garment. He wore a dirty shirt, stained and many times mended. Dread flooded the other man’s face, and he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot and cast him into the outer darkness. In that place there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen.”

A High School Graduation

The Graduate

Tomorrow our brother, Calvin, will be graduating from high school. He has worked hard, and the day has finally come.

When our mom and dad got married in 1981, they said that they would never send their children to public school. A few years later, they heard of this radical new idea called home schooling. Far from being radical and novel, however, the movement was actually a reinvention of the fact and reality that throughout the pages of history, parents have been the primary educational agents in the lives of their children.

While I could continue to elaborate on my family’s homeschooling journey, I want to focus on one colossal benefit that homeschooling has wrought in our family life. Because we have been educated at home, our formal schooling has become interwoven with every other aspect of our lives. Thus, schoolwork, housework, free time, play time, our interests, others’ interests, young people, old people— all of these (and more)— have been wrapped into the warp and woof of our lives. This is true, in a way, for every person, but it has been strengthened in our homeschooling experience. Whereas others might easily compartmentalize school, home, work, play, homework— these have become blurred and intermingled for my family.

Most of all, our lives of been knit together. In our formative years, each of us children have not been plopped in different classes divided by age groups, and we have not spent hours every day away from home and parental involvement. Rather, we have spent the vast majority of our formative years with one another, under the nurture and instruction of our parents. Therefore, as I go forth from my parents’ home, I have found this to be a great blessing. I have learned to be a life-time learner. I have learned to integrate diverse people, ideas, and pursuits into a cohesive pattern, letting these people and things sharpen and shape my personality and mission.

Flexibility is another great benefit of homeschooling. Therefore, my brother is graduating in October. Since early on, my parents found it easiest to school year-round, dispersing school-breaks throughout the year rather than having a long summer holiday. Thus, Calvin’s senior year ended at the end of this summer, and tomorrow worked out as a feasible day to hold a public ceremony and celebration.

Sail into the Sunset

May God bless you, my brother, as you chart your course into new waters! May our Lord Jesus be with you through every stormy gale, may his almighty hand ever rest on the tiller of your soul, and may he guide you at last to your desired haven!

Sail into the Sunset copyright Jonathan Wislon, courtesy of TrekEarth.com

Mrs. Charles on Church History

“If church history be anything different from secular history, it should be the result of Christian truth speaking through the lives of Christian men; the story of the struggle between selfishness and divine love, of the Life which has pierced through and outlived the corruption and decay of States; the echo of the accents of truth and love penetrating, like musical tone, through the market din and battle tumult of the world.”
-Elizabeth Rundle Charles, author of From Dark to Dawn