The Building Up Of Our Faith Is More Important Than The Money We Think We Need
If a man relies on his fellowmen to alleviate his suffering, he learns to put his faith on men. If he receives no help from men he placed his hopes on, he harbors bitterness and self-pity. God lovingly allows troubles to come into the lives of His beloved so we would look to Him. Only then does He move men to help us—help us see that he was there with us all along, He is Immanuel, that we can fully trust Him (Isa. 7:14).
When our need for money causes us to question God, we should question our faith in God, because to question Him is a departure from faith. Our treasure is where our heart is (Matt 6:21). Our needs reveal to us where our hearts truly stand. It unmasks the reality of our hearts; if we are full of worry and resentment, bitterness comes out; if we know God intimately as Father, worship and praise. God is not oblivious to the earthly needs of His children (Matt 6:32) because it was He who sovereignly placed that need. He in His wisdom knows what we need more than help, is Him. Our first response is to run to our Father in prayer (2 Kings 19:1).
Joy in God in the midst of trials is faith in full bloom. The fruit of the Spirit strengthens our faith and remains with us through every forging, long after money received is spent and gone. That is why this ministry tells no one of its need; because God has shown His faithfulness from the very beginning. He is glorified when we cast all our anxieties solely upon Him (1 Pet 5:7). Worry ends where faith begins. His answer at the right time is sweeter. Our faith through waiting on Him becomes greater.
In our poverty of spiritual need, let us not trust in man (Jer 17:5), but see this as an open door to trust in God. We should do something, yes. We should pray and give thanks (1 Thess 5:18), for His mercy endures forever.
In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the forging of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.1 Peter 1:6,7
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Dr. Hardey paid Hudson his wages and boarding allowance every four months. Now four months is a long time between paydays, and sometimes Hudson would run low on money, but he never ran completely out before the next payday arrived.
It was a cold February day, two weeks before his next payday, and one of those times when Hudson was running low on money. Still, with some careful planning he knew he could make it through until Dr. Hardey paid him again. Payday was on Dr. Hardey’s mind, too. As he left that evening, he said, “Hudson, you know how forgetful I am sometimes! Don’t let me forget to pay you your wages when they are due.”
Hudson was not against reminding people of things, but when Dr. Hardey said this, a strange thought came into his mind. Could this be one of the faith tests he’d been wanting? Was God asking him to stretch his faith? Instead of reminding Dr. Hardey when it was payday, did God want Hudson to trust Him to supply the money he needed? After spending some time praying about it, Hudson finally decided that indeed God was asking him to stretch his faith and trust Him for his needs. So he made an agreement with God: He would not ask Dr. Hardey for his money; he would trust God to supply his needs, no matter what happened.
Three weeks passed, and Hudson was feeling discouraged. Nothing had happened. He had asked God a hundred times a day to remind Dr. Hardey about his wages. Why wasn’t God doing something? It was Saturday night, his rent was due in the morning, and Dr. Hardey was already a week late with his wages. The only money he had left was a single half-crown coin, and that was not enough to pay the rent. When was God going to act? And what would Mrs. Finch say if he couldn’t pay the rent? Had he been foolish in promising God that he wouldn’t ask for his wages? After all, Dr. Hardey owed him the money and would be more than pleased to pay it.
On Sunday morning, Hudson awoke feeling a little more full of faith. It was the Lord's day, and he felt sure this was the day he would get his money. He divided the remainder of his oatmeal in hald and ate one portion for breakfast. He put the other hald aside for dinner. He walked to church, watching the ground just in case someone had dropped some money that God intended for him to pick up. There was none, so he waited a little longer after church, hoping that perhaps someone would slip some money into his pocket, but no one did. So, feeling a little discouraged again, he headed for Drainside and his room in Mrs. Finch's cottage. He wanted to stretch his faith and trust God, but somehow things weren't working out like he'd planned.
To get to Drainside from church, Hudson had to walk through the roughest neighborhood in Hull. It was filled with Irish immigrants who found their new lives in England to be as dreary and poverty-filled as the ones they had left behind in Ireland. Yet despite its reputation for being unsafe and an area where policemen would travel only in groups of six or more, Hudson felt no fear. Most people recognized him as the young man who assisted Dr. Hardey. People here respected Dr. Hardey; they would never lay a hand on his assistant.
Hudson had walked about halfway through the area when a man he did not recognize came running up to him. The man grabbed Hudson by the arm and pulled him into an alley. “It’s my wife. She’s dying, I know she’s dying,” the man pleaded in a thick Irish accent. Hudson nodded. The man must have seen him with Dr. Hardey. The man went on, “I know you are a man of God, please come and pray for her.” Hudson was surprised. The man seemed to want prayer more than medicine for his wife.
Hudson followed the man quickly, picking his way around heaps of garbage. Babies wailed from the three-storied buildings that loomed on either side of the alley. People sitting around outside nudged each other, and children peered around corners, curious as to which house the stranger was going to. It was not often such a well-dressed man ventured into their territory.
As he followed along, Hudson put his hand into his pocket and felt his last half-crown coin. If only it were three smaller coins, I would gladly give the man a third of what I have, Hudson thought to himself. Stepping around a pile of rotting vegetable peelings and corncobs, he stopped and looked up to where the man was pointing. “Up there,” he said. “My missus is up there.”
Hudson made his way up the iron staircase. Ragged clothes were hung to dry on the railing all the way up. At the top of the stairs, Hudson took a deep breath before opening the door. The smell in the room was almost unbearable. On a pile of rags in one corner lay a woman. Five hollow-cheeked children gathered around and stared blankly at her. A tiny baby lay still beside the woman’s limp, pale body. Hudson had enough medical experience to know death was close at hand. The woman had probably bled during childbirth. Some superstitious old woman calling herself a midwife, with no idea of how to stop the bleeding, had probably been present for the birth. Instead of calling a doctor, she had left the woman to bleed, and now it was too late. Hudson had seen too many cases like this in his time with Dr. Hardey. And it was usually a double tragedy. Without a mother to feed it, the baby would die, too. And then there were the other five children. What would happen to them without a mother?
“Pray. Please pray,” the woman’s husband begged, entering the room behind Hudson.
Hudson thought again of the half crown in his pocket. If only I had stopped at the bakery yesterday, I would have a one-shilling coin now that I could give to this man. He cleared away an old newspaper to make room to kneel beside the woman.
The room was silent. The children stared at Hudson. The woman’s husband closed his eyes and bowed his head. His wife stirred and again lost consciousness. Hudson felt he should say something comforting before he prayed. He cleared his throat. “Each of us needs to pray in our heart, trusting that God will answer our prayers. God is our Father, and He asks us to trust in Him, even when we cannot see with our natural eyes how things will get better. God asks us to use the eyes of our faith. He says He will never leave us or forsake us.”
As he spoke, it was as if the room became a huge echo chamber. Everything he thought he was saying to this poor man and his family seemed to echo back at him five times louder. God was his Father, too. He had said He would never leave or forsake Hudson Taylor. So why didn’t Hudson want to give away the whole half crown in his pocket? Wasn’t it odd to be prepared to trust God to provide for him if there was still some money left in his pocket, but not if he gave it all away and his pocket was empty? Yes, he was prepared to share with these poor people, but surely God didn’t intend for them to have all his money while he had none!
With all these questions running around inside his head, Hudson became too confused to continue talking. So he began to pray. Praying, he decided, would be easier than talking. He began reciting the Lord’s prayer, figuring that the man and his children would be familiar with it and could pray along. “Our Father,” he began. "See," a voice prodded him inside his head, "God is our Father, as much their Father as He is yours. He is a Father who wants to provide for you and for them. Do you really believe that?"
Hudson stumbled as he recited the Lord’s prayer. “Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come…” But the prodding voice inside his head would not stop. "You’re asking them to believe they’re My children, but do you believe you are Mine? Do you believe I will look after you?”
While the words of the Lord’s prayer fell automatically from Hudson’s lips, inside, his heart was in chaos. Finally he managed to finish the prayer and stood up. The man looked at his wife and baby and then at Hudson. “You can see what a terrible state we are in,” he said. “If you can help us, for God’s sake do.”
Two Bible verses flashed through Hudson’s mind: “Give to him that asks of you” and “In the word of a king there is power.” Hudson knew what he had to do. He slid his hand into his pocket and pulled out the half crown. He handed the coin to the man, explaining as he did so that it was all the money he had in the world, but God was his Father and He provided for all of His children. As the man took the coin, peace and joy flooded into Hudson. Something deep inside had changed. Trusting God was no longer just a good idea; it was a new reality in his heart.
Hudson sang hymns to himself all the way back to Drainside. His heart felt as light as his pocket. When he arrived home, he ate the last of his oatmeal, without a thought as to where his next meal would come from.
Early the next morning, he heard the postman knock at the front door. He didn’t pay much attention, since most of his mail arrived toward the end of the week. A moment later, though, there was a knock on his door. He opened it, and Mrs. Finch, wiping her wet hands on her apron, handed him a letter. How curious that a letter should arrive on Monday, he thought. He wondered who it could be from and studied the handwriting on the envelope. He did not recognize the writing. Then he looked at the postmark to see where it had been sent from, but it was smudged and unreadable. Finally, he opened the letter, and out dropped a pair of finely made men’s gloves. He turned them over, hoping to find a note telling him who they were from, but there was no note. Then something small dropped from the envelope and fell to the floor. Hudson picked it up, amazed at what it was: a half-sovereign coin worth ten shillings, four times more than the half crown he had given away the night before. He immediately offered a prayer of thanks to God for meeting his needs.
In 1851, a half sovereign could last a person quite a while, particularly someone as frugal as Hudson Taylor. But after two weeks, he found himself in much the same position as before, with only a half-crown coin left in his pocket. Again he began pleading with God to remind Dr. Hardey that his wages were now long overdue. Of course, he knew he could have the money anytime he asked for it, and an apology from Dr. Hardey for being so late with it. But he’d made a promise that he would trust God to remind the doctor, and if he stepped in and took matters into his own hands, he felt he would be demonstrating a lack of faith. And if he couldn’t trust God in this small thing, he wouldn’t be able to trust God in all the adventures that would certainly await him in China.
So Hudson prayed and waited. Wednesday came and went, then Thursday and Friday. By Saturday he did not have a penny, and his rent was due, not to mention the fact that he had nothing left to eat. That evening as he boiled a pan of medicine and finished up his duties for the day, Dr. Hardey sat down to chat. He often had chats like this with Hudson. As they talked together, the doctor looked over at Hudson with a questioning look. “By the way,” he asked, “isn’t your salary due again?”
Hudson concentrated hard on the pan of boiling medicine he was stirring, trying not to let the doctor see how excited he was. Finally he answered as casually as he could, “I think it was due a while ago.”
“I wish you had reminded me,” said Dr. Hardey. “I’m sorry. I got busy and totally forgot your wages. I would pay you right now, but I sent all the money to the bank this afternoon. I won’t have any cash until Monday.”
Hudson quickly turned back to the pan, this time trying to hide his disappointment. One moment he was sure God had answered his prayers, the next his hopes were dashed into a thousand pieces.
Thankfully, Dr. Hardey left the surgery for home soon after. Hudson didn’t want him to see how disappointed he was. As soon as the doctor had left, Hudson lifted the pan of medicine off the burner and knelt down beside a chair to pray. His prayer started out as a prayer of panic, but after a while, he began to feel peace within. God had told him to trust and be patient, and that was what he would do.
By the time Hudson had finished all his duties, it was 10 p.m. He put on his overcoat and readied himself to brave the cold walk back to his room at Drainside. At least he wouldn’t have to face Mrs. Finch and tell her he had no money to pay the rent. Thankfully Mrs. Finch always went to bed early on Saturday evenings.
Hudson was just reaching to turn off the office’s gaslight when he heard someone laughing outside. Then Dr. Hardey burst through the door. “What a funny thing just happened to me,” he said. “I was getting ready for bed when I heard a knock at the door. It was Mr. Pritchard, one of my wealthiest patients. He was standing on my doorstep wanting to pay his bill.” Dr. Hardey shook his head as he went on. “What would possess a man to pay a bill at 10 o’clock on a Saturday night? And he didn’t pay by check as he usually does, he gave me cash instead.”
The doctor reached for the ledger book and entered the payment in it. He was still chuckling to himself about his late-night visitor as he walked towards the door. As he turned to close it behind him, he remembered something. “By the way, Taylor, you might as well take these notes. I’ll give you the balance of your wages next week. And one other thing. I was seeing to a patient on the other side of town the other day when an Irishman came up to me and said to tell you thank you for your prayer; his wife has made a full recovery.” With that he handed Hudson a wad of bank notes and then walked out, shutting the door behind him.
Hudson stood in stunned silence as goosebumps ran up his arms. It was ten minutes after ten, and here he was holding enough money to pay Mrs. Finch his rent on time and buy food for breakfast. And not only that, the woman he’d prayed for had made a full recovery. He was so certain she was going to die. But God had answered his prayer. Now he knew, no matter what, he had the faith to trust God in all that lay ahead of him in China.
Benge, Janet; Benge, Geoff. Hudson Taylor: Deep in the Heart of China (Christian Heroes: Then & Now) (p. 37-43). YWAM Publishing. Kindle Edition.
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