Literary Wanderings: George MacDonald #8

7.
In holy things may be unholy greed.
Thou giv'st a glimpse of many a lovely thing,
Not to be stored for use in any mind,
But only for the present spiritual need.
The holiest bread, if hoarded, soon will breed
the mammon-moth, the having-pride, I find.
'Tis momently thy heart gives out heart-quickening.

This stanza from the August section of MacDonald's 'Book of Strife' (Diary of an Old Soul) reiterated a conviction that has come to me in many forms over the last few months. I have found that I have paralysis of analysis that I am a Hoarder of holy things.

I love reading and I love learning; these are gifts that God has given to me. But in the end all that I have read and all that I have learned will cry out against me if I don't use it for God's purposes NOW. It's time to 'get out of the huddle' and seek out 'desperation beyond meditation.' Put down my book about prayer and pray. Put down my book about poverty, go without something, and give my savings to the poor. Put down my book about being a good wife or mother and be a good wife and mother. Put down my book of timeless adventure and live my own adventure.

There is safety in my books and in the hidden turnings of my mind and there is a deep part of me that rightly delights in being part of The Great Conversation of mankind. But the Lord has promised to be my Safety and Delight; the knowledge and reflection of my books are simply a taste of eternity.

O my Saviour, help me. I am so slow to learn, so prone to forget, so weak to climb; I am in the foothills when I should be on the heights;

I am pained by my graceless heart, my prayerless days, my poverty of love, my sloth in the heavenly race, my sullied conscience, my wasted hours, my unspent opportunities.

I am blind while light shines around me: take the scales from my eyes, grind to dust the evil heart of unbelief.

Make it my chiefest joy to study thee, meditate on thee, gaze on thee, sit like Mary at thy feet, lean like John on they breast, appeal like Peter to thy love, count like Paul all things dung.

Give me increase and progress in grace so that there may be more decision in my character, more vigour in my purposes, more elevation in my life, more fervour in my devotion, more constancy in my zeal.

As I have position in the world, keep me from making the world my position; may I never seek in the creature what can be found only in the Creator; let not faith cease from seeking thee until it vanishes into sight.

Ride forth in me, thou king of kings and lord of lords, that I may live victoriously, and in victory attain my end.

(from The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions by Arthur Bennett -- thanks Jen!)