This book has inspired me greatly! There have been times I have read this book and felt the uplift of inspiration. The best thing about the narrative is that its real to life with a transparency that is familiar to anyone who has ever prodded through life wandering about life, God, purpose, and destiny. Let me share from one story in the book. I truly believe there is no other book that has inspired me to be challenged in my faith as this by Brother Andrew.
"One night I went out for a long, solitary walk. On several occasions students had warned me not to 'go into Patrick.' Patrick was the slum sitting at the bottom of our hill. It was, they said, the home of addicts, drunks, thieves, even murderers, and walking its streets was unsafe. And yet this area drew me now as if it had something to say.
All around me were the dirty gray streets of Patrick. Litter blew across the cobblestones. The September air was already raw. Before I had gone five blocks I was accosted two times by beggars. I gave them all the money I had in my pockets and watched as they moved without pretense toward the nearest pub. I knew that these drifters, begging in the streets of the Glasgow slums, would receive a better income than the missionaries-in-training at the top of the hill.
I could not understand why this bothered me so. Was I greedy? I didnt think so. We had always been poor in my family, and I had never worried about it. What was it then?
And suddenly, walking back up the hill toward the school, I had my answer.
The question was not one of money at all. What I was worried about was a relationship.
At the chocolate factory I trusted Mr. Ringers to pay me in full and on time. Surely I said to myself, if an ordinary factory worker could be financially secure, so coud one of God's workers.
I turned through the gate of the school. Above me was the reminder 'Have Faith In God.'
That was it! It wasn't that I needed the security of a certain amount of money, it was that I needed the security of a relationship.
I walked up the crunchy pebblewalk feeling more and more certain that I was on the verge of something exciting. The school was asleep and quiet. I tiptoed upstairs and sat by the bedroom window looking out over Glasgow.
*******************************************************
If I were going to give my life as a servant of the King, I had to know that King. What was He like? In what WAY could I trust Him? In the same way I trusted a set of impersonal laws? Or could I trust Him as a living leader, as a very present commander in battle? The question was central. Because if He were a King in name only, I would rather go back to the chocolate factory. I would remain a Christian, but I would know that my religion was only a set of principles, excellent to be followed, but hardly demanding devotion.
Suppose on the other hand that I were to discover God to be a Person, in the sense that He communicated and cared and loved and led. That was something quite different. That was the kind of King I would follow into any battle.
And somehow, sitting there in the moonlight that September night in Glasgow, I knew that my probing into God's nature was gong to begin with this issue of money. That night I knelt in front of the window and made a covenant with Him. 'Lord,' I said, 'I need to know if I can trust You in practical things. I thank You for letting me earn the fees for the first semester. I ask You now to supply the rest of them. If I have to be so much as a day late in paying, I shall know that I am supposed to go back to the chocolate factory.'
It was a childish prayer, petulant and demanding. But then I was still a child in the Christian life. The remarkable thing is that God honored my prayer. But not without first testing me in some rather amusing ways."
The story continues in a fascinating exploration of faith in God:
"The first semester sped by. Mornings we spent in the
classrooms studying systematic theology, homiletics,
world religions, linguistics--the type of courses
taught in any seminary. In the afternoon we worked at
practical skills: bricklaying, plumbing, carpentry,
first aid, tropical hygiene, motor repair. For several
weeks all of us, girls as well as boys, worked at the
Ford factory in London, learning how to take a car
apart and put it back together. In addition to those
standard trades, we were taught to build huts out of
palm fronds and how to make mud jars that would hold
water.
And meanwhile we took turns in the kitchen and the
laundry and the garden. No one was exempt. One of the
students was a doctor, a German woman, and I used to
watch her scouring garbage pails as though she were
preparing a room for surgery.
The weeks passed so fast that soon it came time for me
to head out on the first of several training trips in
evangelism.
'You're going to like this, Andy,' said Mr. Dinnen.
'It's an exercise in trust. The rules are simple. Each
student on your team is given a one-pound banknote.
With that you go on a missionary tour through
Scotland. You're expected to pay your own
transportation, your own lodging, your food, any
advertising you want to do, the renting of halls,
providing refreshments--'
'All on a one-pound note?'
'Worse than that. When you get back to school after
four weeks, you're expected to pay back the pound!'
I laughed. 'Sounds like we'll be passing the hat all
the time.'
'Oh, you're not allowed to take up collections! Never.
You're not to mention money at your meetings. All of
your needs have got to be provided without any
manipulation on your part--or the experiment is a
failure.'
I was a member of a team of five boys. Later when I
tried to reconstruct where our funds came from during
those four weeks, it was hard to. It seemed that what
we needed was always just there. Sometimes a letter
would arrive from one of the boys' parents with a
little money. SOmetimes we would get a check in the
mail from a church we had visited days or weeks
earlier. The notes that came with those gifts were
always interesting. 'I know you don't need money or
you would have mentioned it,' someone would write.
'But God just wouldn't let me get to sleep tonight
until I had put this in an envelope for you.'
Contributions frequently came in the form of produce.
In one little town in the highlands of Scotland we
were given six hundred eggs. We had eggs for
breakfast, eggs for lunch, eggs as hors d'oeuvres
before a dinner of eggs with an egg-white meringue
dessert. It was weeks before we could look a chicken
in the eye.
But money or produce, we struck fast to two rules: we
never mentioned a need aloud, and we gave away a tithe
of whatever came to us as soon as we got it--within
twenty-four hours if possible.
Another team that set out from school at the same time
we did, was not so strict about tithing. They set
aside their ten percent all right, but they didn't
give it away immediately, 'in case we run into an
emergency.' Of course they had emergencies! So did we,
every day. But they ended their month owing money to
hotels, lecture halls, and markets all over Scotland,
while we came back to school almost ten pounds ahead.
Fast as we could give money away, God was always
swifter, and we ended with money to send to the WEC
work overseas.
There were times before the end of the tour, however,
when it looked as though the experiment were failing.
One weekend we were holding meetings in Edinburgh. We
had attracted a large group of young people the first
day and were casting about for a way to get them to
come back the next. Suddenly, without consulting
anyone, one of the team members stood up and made an
announcement.
'Before the meeting tomorrow evening,' he said, 'we'd
like you all to have tea with us here. Four o' clock.
How many think they can make it?'
A couple dozen hands went up, and we were committed.
At first, instead of being delighted, the rest of us
were horrified. All of us knew that we had no tea, no
cake, no bread and butter, and exactly five cups. Nor
did we have money to buy these things: our last penny
had gone to rent the hall. This was going to be a real
test of God's care.
And for a while it looked as though He was going to
provide everything through the young people
themselves. After the meeting several of them came
forward and said they would like to help. One offered
milk; another, half a pound of tea; another, sugar.
One girl even offered to bring dishes. Our tea was
rapidly taking shape. But there was one thing still
missing--the cake. Without cake, these Scottish boys
and girls wouldn't consider tea tea.
So that night in our evening prayer time, we put the
matter before God. 'Lord, we've got ourselves into a
spot.
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