Thoughts on Getting Old

“Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

You know you're old, my parents used to say, when the movie stars you followed start to pass away. For us, I guess, that would be the rock stars, at least those that made it through the sixties.
In Psalm 90:10 we read: “The years of our life are three score and ten, or even by reason of strength fourscore.”

Looks like I’m on borrowed time, better keep taking the vitamins. I like it when I find verses in the bible that speak to old age.
We are relevant and not going away....just yet.
Here are some of those verses:

The time has passed,
“I have been young, and now am old;....” Psalm 37:25

But we have much to share, and to remember,
“I remember the days of old, I meditate on all that thou hast done; I muse on what thy hands have wrought.” Psalm 143:5

Though there is a fear,
“Do not cast me off in the time of old age;
forsake me not when my strength is spent.” Psalm 71:9

But we know there’s always a promise,
“...even to your old age I am He, and to gray hairs I will carry you.” Isaiah 46:4

And the hope is,
“To live for the rest of the time in the flesh no longer ruled by human passions but by the will of God.” 1 Peter 4:2

The opening lines to this blog are from a poem by Dylan Thomas. Believed to be written to his dying father. “The sentiment is that life is precious and should be fought at every turn, and should burn and rage at the approach of death.”
Whilst I can agree life is precious, I know I don’t need to rage at the dying of the light.

How blessed we are that Jesus has conquered death for us and we can face it without fear, knowing that He has overcome the darkness, and the light will get ever brighter in His presence.

—Mick Sanderson

Carnal Self

Whenever the interest of carnal self is stronger and more predominantly habitual than the interest of God, Christ or everlasting life, there is no true self denial, but where God’s interest is stronger, self denial is sincere.

So says one of the great puritans of the 17th century, Richard Baxter. Though they aren't always easy to read, as the language can be a little dated, let me encourage you to take a look at the Puritans. They are challenging and encouraging, and still very relevant. They’ll also make you think a little harder, well, they do me. The following is taken from a reading I was listening to online. As I was listening these were the notes I jotted down on the subject of self-denial.

1. What is it that you live for? What is that good which your mind is principally set to obtain on which you set your heart on (pleasing God or pleasing of fleshly mind)? Know this and you may know whether self or God has greatest interest in you. For that is the God that you love most, would please best, and do most for.

2. Which do you most prize? Do you prize Christ and holiness or pleasures that gratify the flesh?

3. If truly self-denying, you are ordinarily ruled by God, His word and Spirit and not by carnal self. Whose word and will is it that ordinarily prevails? When God draws and self draws, which do you follow?

4. Refuse to be ruled by it or love it as your god. Fight it and tread it down as your enemy and strive against it.

5. If you have true self-denial, there is nothing in the world that is so dear to you that on deliberation you would leave it for God. A trial of the sincerity to part with that that is dearest to the flesh. Nothing so dear to a gracious soul which he cannot part with.

6. True self-denial is procured by knowledge and love of God, advancing Him in the soul to the debasing of self. The illuminated soul, so much taken with the glory and goodness of the Lord, carries him away from self to God, to the love of God and hopes of glory.

“Oh, that this too solid flesh would melt.” Or to quote another, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?”
“What a wretched man I am!” Indeed. How easily I can be undone by the flesh.

Thankfully, though, we are not left to fight on our own.
To quote another, “We have the Spirit of God working in us, and part of that work of the Holy Spirit is to put to death the old man. To get rid of that fleshly nature that has been that body of death that has beset us for so long.”
I’m thankful to the Lord for His patience and for giving us a helper so that we might overcome.

—Mick Sanderson

What's in a Name?

Looking at the bottom of this blog you’ll see my name is Mick. I was actually Christened Michael Geoffrey, but ever since I can remember, I’ve always been called Mick. Another name I’m called that has, for me, more emotional ties, is Mickey. It has been used, almost exclusively, by my family, especially my sisters and my mum.

Though my name is Michael I've never been called Mike, and it’s a name I just don’t associate with myself. I’ve found that many Americans will immediately call me Mike if I introduce myself as Michael, something that never happened to me in England. So my name is Michael, but you can call me Mick.

For most people names are very important. Most parents take a long time and many heated moments trying to choose a name for their child, even long before the birth. For many cultures the naming of a child is often determined by tradition or a family name that is passed down from generation to generation.

In the bible, in the Gospel of Luke, we are told of two who were called by name, even before they were conceived. When the angel of the Lord appeared to Zechariah he was told, “Your wife Elizabeth will bear a son and you shall call his name John.” Around the same time the angel Gabriel was sent to Mary and told her, “...you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall call his name Jesus.” How beautiful is that. The little child developing in the womb is called by name. Is known by God.

And what a name. The name of Jesus. The name above all names, at which every knee will bow. For many of us, a name that was often no more than a swear word, comes to mean everything to us. Bringing life from death. In the same way he called Lazarus out of the tomb, so he called us from death to life, and, I have no doubt, he called us by name.

—Mick Sanderson

On the Trail of Giants

“When Jesus referred to John the Baptist as ‘a burning and shining light,’ He was thinking of a candle, which must pay a heavy price to shine. What does it cost a candle to furnish light? It costs its very existence! It costs everything! Even so, to take the light of the saving Gospel into dark Congo cost George Grenfell and the early missionaries everything. Who else will pay that price?”

Giants of the Missionary Trail by Eugene M. Harrison contains short accounts of a few missionaries who served during the 18th and 19th centuries. From their conversion to their calling, and some highlights of their missions work, until they are finally called home. It’s humbling and challenging to read the accounts of these men, and the women who stood alongside them, giving everything, including their lives, to take the Gospel to the ends of the earth.

Adoniram and Ann Judson, called to Burma (now Myanmar).
“For three weeks (just before their arrival) their ship had been tossed about by a fierce monsoon in the Bay of Bengal. Judson’s wife, Ann, became desperately ill and Judson expected her death momentarily. Attended only by her husband, Ann gave birth to her first baby, which soon died and was buried at sea.” On arrival in Rangoon, conditions were bad: “Speedy death, either from disease or at the hands of Burma’s notoriously cruel officials, seemed to stare them in the face and they were sorely tempted to return to America. But as they prayed through the long vigils of the night, the voice of the Lord comforted them, saying, “Fear not, for I am with thee; be not dismayed, for I am thy God.” Assured that their blessed Lord was with them, they determined to go forward, whatever the cost.”

David Livingstone, called to Africa.
After many years taking the Gospel to the people and opening up the country for other missionaries, Livingstone was on his final journey. Suffering many bouts of fever and his feet covered in sores and blisters, his bearers, concerned for his well being, built a hut and put a cot inside for him to lie on. After some time they looked in to see how he was and saw he was kneeling at his bedside praying. Looking in again later, they found that he had died as he was praying.

Jonathan and Rosalind Goforth, called to China. Appointed by their church to open a new field in the northern Province of Hanon.
Rosiland Goforth wrote, “Dr Hudson Taylor, of the China Inland Mission wrote to us, “We understand North Honan is to be your field. It is one of the most anti-foreign provinces in China...Brother, if you would enter that province, you must go forward on your knees. These words gave a key-note to our early pioneer years. Our strength as a mission and as individuals, during those years so fraught with dangers and difficulties, lay in the fact that we did realize the hopelessness of our task apart from divine aid.”

In all these stories, what is evident is the missionaries' love for the Lord and their overwhelming desire to share that love with those living in darkness, and their darkness was great. The people were in bondage. Living in fear of spirits, sorcery, witchcraft, slavery, murder, and cannibalism, and only the light of the Gospel could set them free.

Our last mention is of James Chalmers, called to New Guinea.
After years serving the people of New Guinea and leading many into a saving knowledge of the Gospel, Chalmers set out to visit a new district known for its particularly ferocious tribe of headhunters and cannibals. He was accompanied by Rev. Thomkins, a promising young colleague recently arrived from England. Though the people looked threatening, Chalmers, Thomkins, and a few others went ashore. They were never seen again. It was ascertained later that they had been invited to the village to eat. As soon as they entered, the signal was given for a general massacre. Chalmers and his companions were killed and eaten, their heads being kept as trophies.

So many of these missionaries paid the ultimate price but not before many of the people they reached out to had thrown off their filthy garments for robes of righteousness. Thousands were saved and delivered from darkness, Gospels were translated into new languages, and countries were opened up for future missionaries to follow.

So let’s not forget to keep in prayer those who are currently on the mission field. Sharing the same good news of the Gospel with those whose bondage is just as great as the headhunters and cannibals of New Guinea in James Chalmers day.

—Mick Sanderson

Mustard Seed and Mountains

“Truly, I say to you, if you have faith as a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there,” and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you” Matt. 17:20. So why do I struggle with the molehills?

Praying for the Asaro mud men of New Guinea or for the salvation of Hindu’s in the city of Tirupati in India somehow seems doable. I know that the Lord has a heart for the lost and He calls people to go to the far corners of the world to reach those lost. So I know I’m praying for something that’s close to His heart. Even closer to home, I don’t have a problem praying for the needs of the Saavedra's family and their ministry in Mexico.

In all these prayers my faith seems to know no bounds. But when the person is standing right in front of me asking for prayer, that’s when my doubts and fears show up, and I start trying to grab for that, seemingly, elusive mustard seed of faith. Like trying to grab a handful of air.

When it comes to the smaller, more personal, prayers for people, my faith seems to evaporate.

Jesus was frustrated with the disciples for their lack of faith (the whole incident runs from Matt. 17:14-21), yet at the same time encouraged them, that even with faith as small as a mustard seed, they could move mountains.
In Romans 12:3 we read, ”God has dealt to every man a measure of faith.” So, at the very least, it would seem, we have something close to a mustard seed to start with.

As I think about this, perhaps my focus has been too much on my measure of faith. Being unsure of God’s will in the particular situation and fear of getting things wrong. I end up depending too much on my own wisdom and insight, what there is of it, and almost forgetting God’s interest in the transaction.

I always like to go to the dictionary. It helps me get the full meaning of a word. I think we often use words without thinking about their full meaning.
Faith, to put your trust in someone; trust, a firm belief in the reliability of a person. Confident expectation.

I can only imagine what my prayers would be like if, each time I came to the Lord, I came with a firm belief and confident expectation in Him and His faithfulness.

Faith is believing, believing that Jesus is willing and able to do anything we ask. Trusting in the Lord's faithfulness, and His promise to hear our prayers and answer them. There are so many scriptures that not only encourage us to pray but declare God hears our prayers and is more than willing to answer them. As it says in Psalm 65:2, “He is the God who answers prayers.”

Going back to that mustard seed, what encourages me is, when fed and watered, seeds grow (you might not know that). It means, as I step out, putting that seed of faith to work, looking to Jesus, seeing His power at work in my life and in those I pray for, I’m encouraged. My confidence in Him and my ability to hear His voice grows.

What this means to me, as I pray for the molehills or mountains of others, is to put my pride and fear aside and put all my trust and confidence in Jesus. Remembering, in all things, we depend upon Him, and taking time to wait on the Holy Spirit to give me the understanding I need to pray effectively.

Not forgetting that, “He is the God who answers prayer.”

—Mick Sanderson

Counting the Cost

Only wanting to give sparingly

Wanting to keep something back for myself 

Not wanting to surrender unconditionally 

Keeping something back for myself.

Yet I thought I was willing to give all.

The Lord had shown me my heart,

Is that what I'm really like?! 

I had said...I want You to be the 

Delight of my heart,

My everything,

My all, 

But You showed me

It wasn't what was deep in my heart. 

I was holding back,

Keeping something for myself. 

Even now not sure if

I can honestly go there.

The cost is higher than I thought. 

Lord make me willing

To stop counting the cost

And come to you unreservedly. 

You see, I want my freedom,

To be able to come and go as I please 

But Satan is deceiving me.

It’s a false freedom.

He will take me further away from Jesus 

And more into myself.

So, a slave to Satan and self

Or a slave to Jesus. 

What is it going to be?

I didn't have time

I was being self indulgent 

Gratifying myself.

What's my story?

What really matters to me? 

There I go again, waxing lyrical. But this was a very real moment in my life and continues to be something I have to ask myself. 

There was one significant moment when the Lord challenged me. Like the rich young ruler I was excited about going deeper with the Lord, to make Him the delight of my heart. Then He spoke to me, “This is not who you really are,” and He showed me my heart. I was crestfallen. 

I knew there were things I struggled with but, until that moment, I didn’t realize how much I clung onto them. How those idols had become so entrenched in my heart. It seemed there was only so much I was willing to give, and I was being asked to go beyond that. 

The deeper life was going to cost more than I was willing to pay. But, that’s ok, I would be a “nominal” Christian. “I still love you Lord,” but from the back row. It was the best I could do, and, after all, I wouldn’t be alone. 

If you look up the definition of the word, nominal, it states; 1. A role or status existing in name only. 2. A price far below the real value or cost. 

To be called a Christian in name only and not be willing to pay the cost. How could I be considering this as an option? 

Jesus doesn’t argue with you. He reaches out and says, “Come.” 

I knew that I couldn’t walk away. I had known Jesus for too long. I knew Him, and know Him, and deep down in my heart I love Him. He is the One who is altogether beautiful and paid a great price for me. So, with some hesitation I started in that direction, started to release my grip on some things. 

I'm still on that journey. It hasn’t always been pretty, and I’m often slow to let go, but I want Him to have my heart. Thankfully, the Lord is patient and kind. He is the One who is altogether merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love. 

I’m so thankful for that. 

—Mick Sanderson