Now the Lord had said unto Abram, "Get thee out" (Genesis 12:1)—and Sarah began to pack!
It's a far cry from Ur of the Chaldees in the year 2000 B.C. to the North American Continent in A.D. 1960. But the Lord, who called Abraham on that far-back day, still calls His Abrahams; and the Sarahs of today must make preparations to move.
Not in-laws, and servants, and camels, and riches—but perhaps just as complicated is the moving today of all the "gadgets" for living. There are many ways in which the moving of Abraham's family from Ur of the Chaldees would have been different; but moving day is moving day, whatever the century, or climate, or economic status.
Leaving home is always a wrench, whether it be from a run-down, ramshackle parsonage that no parishioner would ever live in himself, or a brand-new ranch-type home, chosen with loving care for the preacher's family.
There are the difficult "good-bys" to the dear friends of the congregation, including the converts the Lord has given the privilege of reaching for Him. How hard it is to convince them that the Lord will provide another shepherd (and shepherdess) for them—that, although you are leaving, the Lord's loving-kindness will not depart from them. This always adds to the grief of parting with the beloved congregation.
Physically, moving is hard on today's Sarah. We acquire so many things. Perhaps it would be well for us to keep in mind the almost inevitable moving day when we are allured by what the stores have to offer.
The children also suffer. To them it seems there will never be such friends as those being left behind. We experienced this with our son when he was a sophomore in high school. All of his interests, social and spiritual, were wrapped in the Canadian city where we were ministering. To leave that city and all of his friends was the end of his teen-age world! But the God who said, "Get thee out" had not forgotten His young servant. The new area afforded opportunities undreamed of in the place to which he had been so loath to say "good-by": educational opportunities, and honors. There also was a beautiful unsaved young girl to reach with the gospel. We did reach her, and today she is our sweet daughter-in-law!
It is not all tears and mourning. Moving is an adventure, especially if the move is to a distant and unknown territory. And I strongly suspect that some modern "Sarahs" are not displeased at the announcements of their impending departures. There always is the prospect of contacting new people, and in that respect our daughter was not at all like her brother. She rather welcomed the thought of a move. On one occasion, our moving van had scarcely stopped when she started up the block with some tracts in her hand. "Maybe the folk on this street have never heard about Jesus," she said, with a five-year-old's unfeigned concern.
It is just possible that there may be a great deal of truth in the story a deacon tells. He had heard a rumor that the pastor was seeking greener pastures. Anxious for the truth, he strolled past the parsonage. The children were playing in the yard.
"Is it true that you're leaving us?" he inquired casually of them.
"I don't know," answered the son of the house. "All I know is that Daddy's in his study praying about it, but Mummie is busy packing."
And she will continue to do the packing!
But in the midst of all the chaos that attends every move, whether the move comes after much prayer and planning, or after an urgent, "Get thee out," one thing we can count upon: The good-bys may tear your heart, the process of packing may try your patience, and the journey to the next appointment may seem endless, but the very God who orders His servants hence has promised, "Fear not, . . . : I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward" (Genesis 15:1).
And the last moving day will take us into His very presence. For that there need be no packing by Sarah!
The Secret of My Pastor's Power
by a Parishoner
My pastor's wife and I were chatting as we worked. We were eager to get the invitations to the church development dinner in the mail before five o'clock that afternoon.
Conversations can be so revealing, and I was happy for the opportunity to know Cynthia better. We routinely sealed and stamped envelopes with little thought of our work, but we were drawn closer together in a bond of Christian fellowship.
At one point Cynthia remarked about her husband, "Lowell is the meekest man." I could tell she really meant it.
Of the varied topics we discussed, those words have remained uppermost in my memory. This unsolicited testimonial revealed more of my pastor's character than the many sermons I have heard him preach.
As I listened the following weeks to my pastor's sermons they meant more to me. I knew he practiced what he preached. There was an experience behind the words he was bringing to his congregation.
In Psalm 25:9 we read, "The meek will he guide." Matthew 5:5 gives the promise, "Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth." We are told that Moses was "very meek" (Num. 12:3). Moses was not chosen as the leader of Israel until after his forty years in the wilderness and after he learned the lesson of meekness. The meek are teachable and are willing to do the will of God.
Meekness is a priceless gift in the sight of God. It is the basic ingredient of all other virtues. It goes hand in hand with true humility, courtesy, and love. Christian love is patient, kind, humble, unselfish, and self-controlled. "But Jesus places meekness among the first qualifications for His kingdom."—Thoughts From the Mount of Blessing, p. 14.
As I listened to my pastor I wondered—Is it meekness that gives power to his sermons? I decided it was. Personal experience had made Christ real to him and it was revealed to those in his congregation in such a way that they also wanted to know Christ better. No one can impart to others what he does not himself possess.
"It is not so much the religion of the pulpit as the religion of the family that reveals our real character. . . . Brethren, carry Christ into the family, carry Him into the pulpit, carry Him with you wherever you go.
Then you need not urge upon others the necessity of appreciating the ministry, for you will bear the heavenly credentials which will prove to all that you are servants of Christ."—The Adventist Home, p. 354.
"But spiritual success comes only to those who have learned meekness and lowliness in the school of Christ."—Testimonies, vol. 6, p. 397.
"Human nature is ever struggling for expression, ready for contest; but he who learns of Christ is emptied of self, of pride, of love of supremacy, and there is silence in the soul. Self is yielded to the disposal of the Holy Spirit. Then we are not anxious to have the highest place. We have no ambition to crowd and elbow ourselves into notice; but we feel that our highest place is at the feet of our Saviour."—Thoughts From the Mount of Blessing, p. 15.
This partnership with Christ makes my pastor meek, humble, and teachable. With this meekness Christ has imparted power—power to grow and work.
I am privileged to have a pastor whose life is a testimony to the truth of his words. When Cynthia spoke as she did, she disclosed the secret of his power.
