For the longest time, I wished I’d had a personal testimony filled
with more drama and action. After all, those stories are ones you tend to
remember most in church: the lost soul who was instantly delivered from
addiction, or healed from a long illness, or found God after a near-death
experience. Those are uplifting stories, and we all need to hear them, but I’m
one of those countless Christians whose walk with God is more like a series of
incremental gains.
There’s nothing wrong with this, but I’ve had to remind myself
that God uses people with my story just as often and effectively as he uses
people with striking testimonies. The personal growth that takes a long time also testifies to God’s enduring
faithfulness, and the writer of Proverbs seems to want us all to know the Lord
in this way.
The “slow and steady” message this Sunday resonates with
me for that reason, and a lot of verses tread over this ground. For
example, in Proverbs 21:20 it states that “A wise man builds up treasures, while a fool devours his gains at once.” Furthermore, Proverbs 13:11 asserts that “dishonest
money dissipates but he who stores up wealth little by little sees it grow.”
Whether it’s building up treasures on Earth or in Heaven, growing your
character, or removing sin and falsehood from your life, there is nothing
prosaic or faithless about winning small, gradual victories.
Early in my marriage I used to get in trouble often with my wife
for not noticing when I could help or when she needed me. I’d carry bags from
the car to our apartment, and not notice she had more than she could carry and
needed a hand. Or, I’d track dirt on a floor she had just cleaned, or forget an
errand she needed me to run. Most newlyweds have adjustments like
that to make, but it occurred to me that I’ve always operated under a flawed
paradigm: I’ll take care of me, I don’t expect anyone to help me, and I don’t
understand why anyone else has the gall to expect my help or be angry when they
don’t get it. Self-reliance is a virtue, but imperceptiveness only deprives you
of the chance to show Christ’s character.
I don’t think Paula ever found it easy to believe I would change
until one day we were having an argument in the grocery store, and I noticed a
short and stooped woman behind her, trying desperately to reach a medication on
the top aisle shelf with her walking cane. It looked like her
efforts were going to get messy, and one of my very few useful traits is being
tall, so I asked Paula to hold that thought while I went and helped her. The
lady smiled and thanked me, but Paula was nearly overcome at the sight. Here at
least was evidence that I was growing, just by looking around.
I haven’t beaten this old way of thinking completely, but in the
years since I know I’ve stopped to help motorists with trouble, given people
rides, fetched food or water for a colleague suffering over-exertion at work,
and more. These aren’t monumental feats of goodness, no one is going
to remember them much beyond the next day, and they certainly won’t fill
stadiums on evangelism crusades. But little
by little I become a better person than I used to be, because God is
faithful to honor the years-ago prayers that Paula made for me, or I made for
myself, to ask His help to change.
Maybe bigger feats are in store, I’d like to think so, but at any
rate God’s faithfulness has suffered with me and built me over a long time. And
it seems to me He likes to do that with all of us ordinary Christians – or he
wouldn't have turned a whole book of the Bible into the little guy's training
manual.
Written by: Chad Halcom
Edited by: Tamara Sturdivant
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