The Stimulus That “Burns”

FRI., OCT. 28, 1994, 7:38 AM
FARM, STUDY

It is a cool morning, and the sun shines brightly through the leaves that remain. The end of this month is nigh, and you soon will fly off to another convention. So why are you here, responding to a crazy title? Because I called you. Because you’re reasonably faithful.

This is an enjoyable time for you. You hear and you write in this mystical way that is now quite familiar. Yet you also value… even overvalue… time. There are other uses for this time, even to luxuriating in bed on a morning when you have no pressing responsibilities. This also is an experience you cannot share with most people, including most of your fellow Christians. So, yes, this is a strange and estranging gift.

So you come and have a Teaching because I send a stimulus that awakens you and that “burns” like unto the electric blanket that was on too high a number for your comfort. You must admit that “burning” is not a completely positive symbol-word. It implies pain, even destruction. But it also implies a getting of attention, a consuming focus. In the midst of a busy convention this next week, in which you still will be attracted by professional sessions, you shall feel a burning for Me, and you will find time and a place to answer that burning call. You won’t come each day, but when you miss the next day shall be one of more urgency.

You are an insignificant, unimportant person, by world and historical standards. When We apply Christian standards you again do not appear outstanding. And yet I tell you you are in a famous and holy tradition. I have elected you, and I call you regularly to hear Me… and to carry out a small mission. You know the characters in the Bible story who have been called and who responded. You shall never be known as they are known, but I tell you… yes, you are in that tradition, that line.

Though it is right that you affirm, quite positively, that you have such a call, you also know the real and potential dangers of this, in this time, place, and culture. And yet, you ponder, would it have been any easier if you had remained on the Stanford faculty all of these years? Or if you had been at Punahou over these decades, would I have come to you, would you be writing, and would you be… even more uncomfortable?

( 8:09 / 11:29 A )