—Psalm
119:8
Have you
ever seen a small child having a meltdown in the aisle of a grocery store? He
is sprawled on the ground spread-eagle, screaming loud enough to pierce the
eardrums of every unfortunate soul in a five-mile radius. The child knows what
is expected of him; he knows what is required. And he knows the consequences
for being disobedient. He’ll likely have to sit in time-out for the next chunk
of his life or have his favorite toy taken away as a result of his behavior.
But in that moment, that threat isn’t enough to deter him. The fear of
punishment isn’t enough to make him shape up—and it’s certainly not enough for
him to undergo a change of heart.
And so it
is in our relationship with God. Fear simply isn’t enough of a motivation for
us to obey him. Yes, it may modify our behavior in the short term, but it will
never truly change us on the inside and give us obedient hearts. We need to be
convinced at the core of our being that that God is for us, that he makes rules
not to squelch our fun but to protect us and make us into the godly, mature,
healthy people he wants us to be. We need a deep-seated belief that our
heavenly Father knows what’s best for us and has our best interests at heart.
George
Müller, known for being a defender of orphans in England in the 1800s, lived a
life of radical obedience. And he did so not out a sense of fear or duty, but
rather out of the overflow of his trust that God is good and would take care of
him. Deep down he believed that God could be counted on to be faithful, and he
lived his life in response to that conviction.
Over the
course of his life, Müller cared for more than ten thousand orphans and founded
more than a hundred schools that provided a solid education for children who
otherwise would not have received schooling. He didn’t start with such
large-scale obedience, however. He began with small steps of obedience that
grew over the course of his life.
When
George and his wife first sensed God prompting them to care for orphaned
children in their city, they took some of the children into their own home. But
when their neighbors started complaining about the noise level, they decided
they needed a larger building. That’s when they purchased Ashley Down—an
orphanage large enough for three hundred children. They didn’t have much money,
but they believed that if God had called them to this, then surely he would
give them whatever they needed each day.
One of
Müller’s personal commitments was that he would not ask other people for
anything—even though he typically had hundreds of mouths to feed. Whenever
there was a need, he simply prayed about it and then obeyed whatever he sensed
God was telling him to do, trusting that God would provide.
One
memorable morning at the orphanage, the children were sitting around the table for
breakfast, but there was no food to eat. Müller’s faith didn’t waver. He led
the children in prayer as he always did, thanking God for the food. Just as
they finished the prayer, there was a knock on the door. It was the baker, with
enough bread to feed everyone present. Then came another knock. This time it
was the milkman, saying his cart had broken down just outside the orphanage.
Could they use the milk?
All these
years later, Müller’s life offers a lasting example not only of someone who
cared for children but also of someone who was fiercely obedient. His words
live on as part of his legacy: “Every instance of obedience, from right
motives, strengthens us spiritually, whilst every act of disobedience weakens
us.”
What motivates you to obey God: fear or trust?
Why do you think that is? What is one act of radical obedience you can do
before you put your head on the pillow tonight?
—Stephanie Rische
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