Hammer on Anvil '

Last Wednesday I had a party. No invitations were extended, and I was the only person in attendance. Why? Because it was a pity party. Not a pretty sight, to be sure. I cried off and on the entire day, and then unloaded on my long-suffering husband when he got home from work.

Isaiah would be empathetic with my plight, I think. In chapter 6 of his book, he "saw the Lord," and was completely undone. In fact, he's pretty sure he's going to die right then and there, because he has beheld the face of God. But an angel quickly assures him, "Your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for."

Isaiah then hears God ask, "Whom shall I send?" and he eagerly responds, "Here am I! Send me!" This is where I start identifying with Isaiah, and why I think he would be empathetic. When Isaiah volunteered for service, he may have taken for granted that because of this experience with God (e.g., the angel touching his mouth with a live coal), his subsequent ministry would be fruitful beyond his wildest dreams. It may have been a blow to his ministerial ego when God explains that the mission He is sending him on isn't nearly so glamorous:

"Go and say to this people, 'Keep on hearing but do not understand; keep on seeing but do not perceive.' Make the heart of this people dull and their ears heavy, and blind their eyes; lest they see with their eyes and hear with their ears, and understand with their hearts, and turn and be healed" (Isaiah 6:9,10).

That's kind of a downer when you think God has some splendid ministry in store. Instead of restoring the Israelites to God, Isaiah is warned that his message will be rejected to the point that the Israelites will be even less spiritual than before! His response is, "How long, O Lord?" You can almost hear the dejectedness in his voice.

That, in a nutshell, was the nature of my pity party. Yes, I know ministry is messy, and normally I am able to rise above it and go on. But sometimes it makes me almost physically ill. I get sick of people who claim they want to be discipled, but who really don't -- because then they might have to change how they live. Or people who are in desperate financial straits, but would rather live off the contributions of others than be accountable about their finances. Or people who get angry at me when I expound some Bible truth, because they think God should bend His standards of holiness to suit their particular prejudices.

If you've been in ministry very long, you can probably echo these sentiments. But God encouraged me the very next day. I was at the local blood center donating platelets, which generally takes about 90 minutes. The seats are wonderfully comfortable, and everyone has their own personal TV with headphones. But since I would rather put a sharp stick in my eye than watch daytime television, I brought along J.I. Packer's Hot Tub Religion. In a section where he lists mistakes Christians often make in ministry, he writes:

We who speak for Christ today must be prepared to find that what we say is disregarded and we are laboring with little or no visible success. Like Isaiah, we are called to be faithful, not necessarily fruitful. Faithfulness is our business; fruitfulness is an issue that we must be content to leave with God. God's Word will not return to Him completely void, we know, but we must be willing not to see the fruits of it ourselves, or at least not immediately. Visible success in the form of instant results is not guaranteed in Christian ministry, neither for you nor for me.

That, my dear friends, is the encouragement we need to hold tightly to when the enemy tries to discourage us and we are tempted to throw in the towel. As long as you are walking in obedience and faithfulness, you are not responsible for how others perceive you or react to you. In fact, if you are truly following Jesus, you will meet opposition -- oftentimes from other believers.

This week, take time to meditate on Hebrews 12:2: "Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God."

And if part of your pity party stems from feeling woefully inadequate -- as mine did -- consider these wise words:

"Spirituality isn't about being finished and perfect; spirituality is about trusting God in our unfinishedness." (from Messy Spirituality by Mike Yaconelli).