An Unlooked for Blessing in the Guise of a Semi-Random Book

At first I didn't think I wanted to read the book. At first I thought Elisabeth Elliot's writing would be all fusty and pious, and I'm so not into that. I read the first brief essay and then put the book aside. That is until I picked it up again on Sunday morning.

Keep A Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot has been hitting all the right notes with me. A short, short essay I read Thursday morning was called "Ever Been Bitter?" Who, me? Bitter? Naw. I'm much too sensible for that. But when I thought back to some of the things I said to the woman sitting next to me at the church's business meeting last night, I had to reconsider my personal assessment. A less discerning listener than she may have suspected a note of bitterness in my speech. For instance, I complained that for several years before my husband lost his job we didn't get a raise. The last two years we didn't get any sort of Christmas bonus, and the year before we took a cut in pay. For a year we've been self-employed and living off our savings, and choosing to trust God all the way, we're still unable to detect an end in sight.

Elliot writes:

Sometimes I've said, "O Lord, you wouldn't do this to me, would you? How could you, Lord?" I can recall such times later on and realize my perspective was skewed. One Scripture passage which helps me rectify it is Isaiah 45:9-11 (NEB): "Will the pot contend with the potter, or the earthenware with the had that shapes it? Will the clay ask the potter what he is making?... Thus says the Lord, would you dare question me concerning my children, or instruct me in my handiwork? I alone, I made the earth and created man upon it." ...I don't understand Him, but then I'm not asked to understand, only to trust....(44)

She goes on to say that it's okay to ask God why, taking Job as an example of one who asked monumental questions. The excerpt I've included here frankly doesn't do the essay justice.

I quoted from her earlier on facebook, from another essay in the same book. I had spent the week before regretting a lack of opportunities in my past, then yesterday I read this in Elisabeth Elliot: "All of the past, I believe, is a part of God's story of each child of His--a mystery of love and sovereignty, written before the foundation of the world, never a hindrance to the task He has designated for us, but rather the very preparation suited to our particular personality's need (24)."

If you get a chance to read this book, I suggest you do so. With that I shall leave you in suspense over the weekend as to which other books were in yesterday's box. Today I found that I had something else on my heart instead. My break from reading literary theory on a Thursday night is now officially over.