Divine Appointments

This very afternoon I purposed to take my dear wife out for a brief season of rest and quiet refreshment. Yet as we made our way, the rain overtook us midway, compelling us to seek shelter in a bike wash nearby. What seemed at first but an interruption of our plans proved to be another of those moments wherein Providence often worketh unseen.

While we waited there, a man approached us asking for alms, one whose manner and appearance testified, as I perceived it, to a life marked by deep spiritual confusion and homosexuality. In that moment I was reminded that however broken or disordered a life may appear outwardly, the soul standing before us is a person made in the image of God, in need of mercy, truth, and the saving Gospel of Christ. And I perceived once more that such interruptions are not to be regarded lightly, for what seemeth unto men an ordinary encounter may in truth be an occasion appointed by God. Heaven’s opportunities do not always come clothed in grandeur, but often in sudden moments, in unexpected places, where one soul is brought before another for the sake of mercy and witness.

To give the man money merely that he might leave us alone seemed unto me no act of mercy, but only a brief relief of bodily need while the far greater need of the soul remained untouched. It profits nothing to satisfy hunger for an hour and saying nothing of that Bread which endureth unto everlasting life? Yet I also understood the difficulty of such moments, for the ears of a hungry man are often fixed more upon his present distress than upon eternal things. Still, I could not look upon him without being burdened. It seemed plain that his desire was for earthly help alone, some small coin that he might take and quickly be on his way. Yet standing before me was not merely a man asking for alms, but an immortal soul hastening toward eternity, and that thought pressed heavily upon my spirit. Thus I resolved that I would not merely use words as one throwing seed upon stone, nor offer some passing sentiment he can easily nod at and forget. Rather, I sought to lay hold of his attention by asking that which would require an answer. For a question searches deeper where a statement may only pass by; it calls the conscience to consider what it would rather ignore. In this way I desired that truth might not simply touch the ear and vanish, but press itself upon the inward man, that his mind might be stirred and his heart compelled, if only for a moment, to reckon with the things of God.

Our conversation lasted but a brief ten minutes, and as the man departed with his small earthly provision, my heart was immediately brought low by a solemn truth: I possess no power in myself to turn even one soul unto Christ. No eloquence of speech, no strength of persuasion, no urgency of pleading can awaken the dead heart unless God Himself should grant life. My prayer, therefore, was that the Gospel truth he heard might not stand merely as a witness against him in the day of judgment, but that by the mercy of God it might yet find a place within his heart in some appointed hour. For though the seed be sown in a moment, its fruit lieth wholly in the hands of God. And herein I was reminded of the holy boundary of my calling. Mine is only the duty to bear witness faithfully, to speak the truth plainly, and to leave the matter there. It is the Father alone who quickeneth the dead soul, who granteth repentance, who openeth blind eyes, and who draweth sinners savingly unto His Son.

In this limitation there is both humility and comfort for the servant of Christ: the burden of results doth not rest upon man. The outcome is the Lord’s alone, and whatsoever fruit may come from such labors shall redound not unto the messenger, but unto the glory of God alone.

Only God can make a Christian. Christ alone saves.