Is This True of Me?

     From My Utmost for His Highest
None of these things move me; nor do I count my life dear to myself . . . —Acts 20

Do you know Chambers?

To understand today’s post, it’ll help to know a little bit about the one I identify, regularly as Chambers.

But I’m not talking about Oswald Chambers. To be sure, Oswald Chambers is the man behind the words. He was born in 1874 to a Baptist minister, accepted Jesus at fifteen and searched, like Paul and many others, for God’s will all his life. By 1911, Oswald was living his dream ministering to young pastors at the Bible Training College in London. Two years later a child, Kathleen, came and he was happy. But in 1914, war came to England.

Due to the war, Oswald Chambers’ college closed down and he left for Egypt to minister to British troops there. By all accounts he was a light in the midst of North African wartime darkness. It was hard service. In 1917, Oswald appeared to be recovering from surgery when he died, suddenly, in a Cairo hospital. That wasn't even close to the end for Oswald Chambers.

But, again, that’s not (always) the Chambers I’m talking about. I’m (often) talking about a Chambers that Oswald picked up on a ship [Here-a-Tweet] headed toward a 6-month preaching tour of America. I’m talking about Gertrude Hobbs, who Oswald renamed “Beloved Disciple,” shortened to “B.D.” and then called Biddy. Marrying her, she became Biddy Chambers for the rest of her life.

Already trained as a stenographer, she could type faster than most can speak. After his death, Biddy began to work to support herself and Kathleen (for two more years in Africa and then in England), but she realized that her life’s work was to transcribe and publish thousands of notes she’d taken on Oswald’s sermons. What Oswald poured freely into students, soldiers and the streets, Biddy saved for us all. Ten years after Oswald’s death, Biddy published My Utmost for His Highest.

This gives another dimension to today’s devotional. Chambers was a man who was gifted at art and music (some are protected at the Wheaton College Archives), but chose to preach. Biddy was an English mom, alone in Africa with limited options, but chose to edit, translate and publish her husband’s words.

So think about this:

1. Does it change your perspective on these knowing that they come from a man who gave up a dream and died in an Egyptian hospital?
2. Who was the inspired one—Oswald, saying it all in the first place, or Biddy who curated and ordered it to hit you right where you are today? 
3. How many people do you think it took to put this together? Were there others behind Biddy, working to bring My Utmost for His Highest together?
4. How do you think each (Oswald, Biddy, others…) began? 

You could ask God for a call and a vision for your love. [There-a-Tweet] No telling where I’d be if I’d chosen work I’d be good at or that is useful. But God doesn’t want our labor. He wants us. [Everywhere-a-Tweet-Tweet]

Imagine you had wildly successful/profitable company in a defensible market that just couldn’t not win. Your son comes up through the ranks and you love that he’s now in the office next to yours. In the month of December, do you want your son working overtime, pushing the company forward and flying off to far locals to develop new projects? Or do you want your son? Do you want to spend time together and have his family in your home?

When Oswald died, Biddy wrote a telegram home saying, simply, “Oswald in His Presence.”

What can you start today that will demand such a sweet sendoff as, “You in His Presence.”

I love you.

#thosewhocantnot