As Christians, providence is a truth we seldom mention, but a reality that is the ground of our consolation and hope. In an article in Christianity Today, Brad East unpacks some of the implications of providence.
He quotes Augustine, “The whole of creation is governed by its creator, from whom and by whom and in whom it was founded and established. And thus God’s will is the first and highest cause of all creatures and events.”
East goes on to explain that “providence is comprehensive, nothing is excluded from it. God wills some things actively, and these are ‘incontrovertibly good.’ But “God permits other things, and these are defects, errors, sufferings, or evils.” And here differences among theologians arise.
But despite their differences, all celebrate providence, for without its promise, Christians would find no consolation in a chaotic fallen world. Knowing that God works in and through all things for the good of his children (Romans 8:28) is an enormous impetus to persevere in following and serving Christ in spite of opposition, illness, or hindrances of many kinds.
East remind us that “the watchword for providence in all ages is Joseph’s response to his brothers: You intended it for evil, but God intended it for good (Gen 50:20).”
“Providence doesn’t make history easy to interpret. It makes living through it endurable.” Not only endurable but victorious because of the good news of Christ and his cross and resurrection. For he has entered history to overcome evil and lead us on in and through the murky waters of life.
“Here’s the difficult truth: The sheer fact that something has happened—that God willed or allowed it to happen—tells us nothing whatever about the thing itself. It may be a cause for celebration or lament, or, more likely a mixture of both…Sifting history” is a long game best left to its author.
Providence calls us to a life of faith, not faith in our own ability to discern the reasons for happenings, but faith in the God of providence. And “faith is the evidence of things not seen” (Heb 11:1) nor understood.
Perhaps William Cowper described it best in his immortal hymn:
1. God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform. He plants his footsteps in the sea And rides upon the storm. Deep in the dark and hidden mines, With never-failing skill, He fashions all his bright designs And works his sov’reign will.
Refrain: So God we trust in you. O God, we trust in you. When tears are great and comforts few, We hope in mercies ever new, We trust in you.
2. Oh, fearful saints, new courage take: The clouds that you now dread Are big with mercy and will break In blessings on your head. Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace. Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face.
3. God’s purposes will ripen fast, Unfolding every hour. The bud may have a bitter taste, But sweet will be the flower. Blind unbelief is sure to err And scan his work in vain. God is his own interpreter, And he will make it plain.
(article by Brad East, Christianty Today, Nov/Dec 20-24, Our Strength and Consolation, p. 84)
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“Buy a lottery ticket and win a mansion…or a million!” The media is flooded with ads about buying lottery cards, playing games of chance on our phones, and even raising money for charities like hospitals by buying a lottery ticket.
“Dream bigger! The pot is now 150 million! Buy a ticket. This may be your destiny!” “Just take a chance, your luck may turn.” As if out there somewhere among the galaxies our lucky star exists. Oh?
But does luck really exist? Is our fine-tuned universe a wheel of chance, in which our lives unfold according to long odds? Or is luck another fanciful concept dreamed up by people determined to reject a Creator, but rooting around to find some way to explain life?
Solomon, wisest man on earth, didn’t think luck existed. He wrote, “The lot is cast into the lap, but its every decision is from the LORD” (Proverbs 16:33). Now why would he say that?
Well…for one thing, the universe isn’t a giant wheel of chance. It was created, fine-tuned, set in motion, and is governed by the Creator’s power, wisdom, and omnipotence. In Athens philosophers met to debate and proclaim their views of truth. Paul stood up in their midst and said; “what you worship as something unknown I am going to proclaim to you. The God who made the world and everything in it, is the Lord of heaven and earth…he himself gives all men life and breath and everything else. From one man he made every nation of men that they should inhabit the whole earth, and he determined the times set for them and the exact places where they should live. God did this so that men would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from each one of us. For in him we live and move and have our being” (Acts 1723-28). Chance? No. God. And the word that describes his interaction with us is not luck but providence.
Determined times and places! How can that be? Remember, we’re talking about God and that means we are touching the very edges of infinite mystery. To enter deeper into that mystery and find peace in celebrating—not luck—but God’s providential care we must seek out the astonishing Son of God, “by whom all things were created; things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities, all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together” (Col. 1:16,17).
It is in coming to know this one, Jesus, the Christ, that mystery recedes and hope rises. We read, “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved” (Acts 16:31). When we cast off the veil of self-righteousness that has hidden our selfish, law-breaking, sinful hearts and bow to the searchlight of his love and ask him to save us from our sins, what then? He washes us clean and gives us a new heart, open to learning. A new day dawns. Instead of luck, we have a caring Father.
We quickly learn; “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father. And even the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows” (Matt. 10:29,30). But? But what about troubles and suffering? Ah, another big, big subject for another time. But the place to start is at the feet of Jesus where we learn to lean on his providence. Remember he cares for sparrows. He counts the hairs on our head even as they come out on our hair brush.
God cares. He created us in his image to live a life of fulfillment and joy as his children; as we demonstrate in our choices and actions his very image in us. As we learn, forget, re-learn, stumble, get up—his providence watches over us.
Providence is a word seldom known or expressed these days. It sounds like an old-fashioned word. It isn’t! It’s so modern! So real! So comforting to the believer! Wouldn’t we rather trust in providence [God’s loving care] than take a million and a half chance on the roll of dice?
When we begin to trust in his providence, we glorify our Father by saying; “In his providence, this or that happened.” “Isn’t it amazing how I providentially met my sweetheart?” “I wasn’t planning to live here but God through providential circumstances guided me to this place.”
Oh, friend, it is wonderful to rest in his providential care.
(Let me know your thoughts on this subject. If you appreciate this blog, please pass it on. If I can help you spiritually, let me know. Further articles, books, and stories at: Facebook: Eric E Wright Twitter: @EricEWright1 LinkedIn: Eric Wright ; Eric’s books are available at: https://www.amazon.com/Eric-E.-Wright/e/B00355HPKK%3Fref=dbs_a_mng_rwt_scns_share)
Before I return to our immersion in ministry, let me focus briefly on family life and health issues. Besides caring for me with hepatitis, Mary Helen had to absorb most of the care for the children and be ready at a moment’s notice to offer hospitality to visitors, of which we had many. Life was very busy. I’ll let Mary Helen describe events during that first term from her perspective.
“Stephen celebrated his third birthday in the shaking house in RYK. I made a ‘Snoopy’ Dog cake for his birthday. I would make that same design for each one in the next few years–plus other designs I found in the Betty Crocker Cook Book.
We tried to make a big deal of birthdays. I remember once making a sailing ship cake for one of the kids. To keep it safe I put it in the doli, a little food cupboard on legs set in bowls full of water with screening around it to let air through. When I went to get the cake, it was covered in ants because we had neglected to fill the bowls under the legs with water to keep out insects. Grace Dixon, another of our missionaries, knew what to do. She put it out in the courtyard in the sun. The ants all fled quickly. No one knew the difference!
Once, Debbie had a very large boil that Eric and I had to lance and treat. Fortunately, there were no complications. Antibiotics could be bought in the bazaar, across the counter. Two or three times during those first few years, Stephen would mysteriously develop a very high fever. I knew that I had to keep it down, and that if it lasted for more than twenty-four hours, I better get on the train and take him to the hospital in Multan, 287 kms away, over four hours. We were driven to our knees each time to know what to do. It always left before the twenty-four-hour period elapsed! Each time our Heavenly Father assured us that we were not forsaken even though we lived in an isolated location.
Our kids loved it when Eric would take them for a bicycle ride in the late afternoons before supper. Once Debbie’s foot got caught in the spokes. Fortunately, we were able to treat that cut ourselves.
We tried to do the best we could to create fun for our kids. We’d schedule a day off every week—often interrupted. We’d have picnics out on the sand dunes or along a lonely stretch of canal. That was okay until we attracted visitors. Of course, shopping in the bazaar was always fun.”
Beyond the normal cares of family life, our main task remained language study. In Rahim, half-way between the major cities of Lahore and Karachi, we did not have formal tutors. But Pakistani friends more than made up for their absence. And as I, Eric, got more and more involved in church life the pastors were of immense help.
Church down in the plains was far different from the formal English services we had attended in the mountains. Church was held in a small mud-brick building or out in the country under a tree or in a courtyard. We all left our shoes at the edge of the rug, then joined either the men or the women who sat on separate sides of the congregation. As awkward foreigners it always took us quite a while to get used to sitting on a rug on the floor without kicking those nearby. An enthusiastic group of men kept the singing upbeat with tabla, a harmonium and various other instruments including water pots and tambourines.
Each of the pastors had unique personalities and quirks which were often the source of amusement among themselves and sometimes irritation for the missionary community. Padre Nawaz had quite a sense of humour, but exasperated the missionary community by continually agitating for help to purchase a cow. He developed elaborate schemes to show how a cow would enable him to become self-supporting by selling milk and butter. “Padre,” by the way, does not denote a military clergyman, but is the term that has been adopted in Pakistan for pastor.
The other workers teased Padre Sikhavat unmercifully about his Sikhavat soup. This stemmed from a curry he had served the team that was tasteless and watery. Probably, he didn’t have the money to make anything more substantial.
Padre Hidayat was the leading pastor. Before he was converted, Hidayat was a wild wheeler-dealer of a merchant. Most in Khanpur, where he lived, loved his extrovert personality and even tolerated his aggressive selling technique. Although a nominal Christian, he was secretary of the local store-keepers union. During those days he saw a lot of money slip through his fingers in wild living and hair-brained schemes. Nevertheless, he never had a problem making more money. Inside, however, he was miserable and made his family unhappy. He even counted money in his sleep. At first, he was totally opposed to the mission beginning ministry in the area through pioneer missionary Keith Jones and Merle Inniger. Then came the first area-wide Christian convention. Christ moved in his heart, transforming his life. Away went drink. Away went smoking. Gone were dishonest business practices such as bribery.
Before long, to the horror of friends and relatives, he gave up his shop and embarked on Christian ministry. After a year of training at a Bible Training Institute he began working with the area missionaries. He carried into this ministry the same swash-buckling zest and drive that he had used so successfully in commerce. Most people loved him and God used his ministry and leadership gifts. However, he had a tendency to run rough-shod over people, talk them into decisions, roar at opponents of the opposite faith, and even demand offerings from his Christian audience. Some of the other workers found him hard to take. I remember on one occasion, he demanded our village host kill a chicken for our curry dinner, quite a sacrifice for a poor farmer. He didn’t mind making his requests known. Gradually, under the influence of the Spirit, he grew until he became a great asset to the Rahim area ministry.
Padre Umar, pastor in a village church, had a quiet, laid-back leadership style. He often clashed with the more charismatic Hidayat. Iqbal, a younger brother of Hidayat, did not have his flash and passion but exhibited a steady faithfulness. Iqbal ran one of the two book-rooms.
By the time we arrived, the mission had established three main churches in key towns along the north-south rail line. There were also three or four small churches in farming villages, called chaks.
The pressure to become fully involved in ministry with these men probably helped to accelerate my fluency in the language. By the end of my first year, Merle Inniger had me preaching occasionally and helping to organize discipling opportunities.
These national pastors and evangelists urged us to conduct short-term Bible schools, yearly revival conventions, and join them in visiting scattered believers. Until he moved from the area, Merle Inniger was very diligent in this regard. Awed by Merle’s fluency in their language, they found it hard to believe that I couldn’t go out with them immediately to preach and teach. Forever after, Merle and Gloria Inniger’s fluency in the language was held up to us as a standard for which to strive. But at this time the missionary force was sorely depleted. Could we carry on? (to be continued)
(Let me know your thoughts on this subject. If you appreciate this blog, please pass it on. Further articles, books, and stories at: http://www.countrywindow.ca Facebook: Eric E Wright Twitter: @EricEWright1 LinkedIn: Eric Wright ––)
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