Early this morning I was curled in my wicker rocking chair alternating my attention between the fluffy snowflakes swirling outside my window, breakfast, and J.C. Ryle's Holiness. Though I was having my devotions under unusually idyllic circumstances (with a cup of tea, no less!), a sentence in Holiness caused a bit of initial inward squirming. Ryle stated, "It is expressly written that they [sanctified men and women] are 'predestined to be conformed to the image of God's Son' and 'chosen in Christ before the foundation of the world that they should be holy'." (p. 18)
I am inexpressably thankful to the Lord for choosing a most unworthy sinner like myself to inherit everlasting life, but I admit that my flesh feels uncomfortable with the thought that God from the beginning of time, had plans to use unpleasant circumstances, trials, testings, and hard-hitting portions of scripture throughout my life to continually mold me into His image. My redeemed soul glories in that reality, my inward man rebells at the thought that these sanctifying refinings will never be complete until I reach the end of my pilgrimage. One analogy that comes to mind that I can completely relate to is when someone's out running on a particularly humid day and half way through as they're panting up another hill, trying to suck in some air around the sweat pouring down their face the thought hits them, "If I'm going to stay fit I have to do this for the rest of my life!" There's motivation for you!!
But as I mulled on these thoughts throughout the day, I was reminded of the blessing that comes with sanctification. Yes, if we are Christians we are and will be crushed, bruised, molded, stretched, and refined. Yet the pain, uncertainty, dissappointment, or fear should drive us ever closer to Jesus Christ. This is "compensation" beyond any other!
Abraham's life was one long sanctification process, from being called by God to wander without ever having a permanent home, to waiting for years for a son, to being called to offer up his heir. His relationship with the Lord however, grew to such an extent through this molding and testing that God could say in Genesis 18: 17, 19: "Shall I hide from Abraham what I am about to do? For I have known him, in order that he may command his children and his household after him, that they keep the way of the Lord, to do righteousness and justice..." That's the kind of relationship I want with God, and if it takes pain in the process, I want to be able to say,
"He has brought me here when I did not want to come for His own purpose. I...will look up into His face and say, 'Behold me! I am thy handmaiden Acceptance-with-Joy.'"
(Hind's Feet On High Places)