Read 1 book a week

Susan Hartog’s biography of the life of Anne Morrow Lindbergh is not only thorough in its research but beautifully melodic in its prose. With the feminine delicacy of Anne Morrow Lindbergh’s own poetic writing, Hartog weaves together the tapestry of journal writings, poetry, public speculation and personal experiences of Anne’s life into an inspiring narrative of courage.

Several months ago I happened to come across some of Anne Lindbergh’s writings, in particular her book ‘Gifts from the Sea’. Her thoughts, beliefs and expression of emotion were so remarkably alike my own that I sourced this biography hoping to get further insight into her life and the experiences that inspired such reflections. Indeed in reading this book I did find a kindred spirit… one whose path will be ever so different from my own but whose foundation of thought and belief resonates profoundly with the person I am.

Growing up, Anne was repelled by her parents’ affluence, Hartog writes ‘by the “waste” and “artificialities” of their indulgent “walled garden” life, and yet she was comforted, even grateful for its insulation.’ In marriage, her trans-Atlantic voyeurs with Charles granted her a new perspective on the diversity of life and the acclaims of simplistic living. Hartog writes, ‘Amid the ceremonial necessities of a visit with the president, Anne saw only the poignancy of ordinary life. Reality, she wrote home, belonged not to the president or to celebrated fliers, but to the illiterate, impoverished, Bible-loving mountaineers, in tune with one another and with the beauty of the land. Their knowledge was clear, deep, and ineffable, untainted by presence or convention.’

Marriage loomed like a grave inevitability – something large and yet too small to capture the “fire” she felt inside. She who “loved Scarlet” wore “a gown of black,” she wrote in a poem. In Charles however she found true companionship. Hartog reflects, ‘For the first time, she had met a man who understood her, and it was frightening. Charles saw the rebel heart inside the timid girl and his piercing eye both pleased and threatened her. She knew that, with Charles, her ambitions could run free and her deepest instincts would be valued. But she also knew that marriage to the “hero” would change her life forever, and there would be no turning back.’

“The only real security is not in owning or possessing, not in demanding or expecting, not in hoping, even. Security in a relationship lies neither in looking back to what was in nostalgia nor forward to what it might be in dread or anticipation, but living in the present relationship and accepting it as it is now, within their limits… islands, surrounded and interrupted by the sea, continually visited and abandoned by the tides.” (Anne Morrow Lindbergh)

Despite the constant pressures of life and marriage in the scrutinizing and equally doting public eye, Anne Lindbergh sought to retain her sense of solidarity and aloneness of thought. Solitude, she wrote, made her less volatile and less vulnerable. She was most free when she was alone. ’”Home” is no longer a physical refuge; it is the stillness at the centre of one’s mind, giving rise to self-knowledge and reconciliation. Silence is the alchemy that changes the artifacts of language and culture into the “gold” of beauty and art.’

Such art was made manifest in the beauty of Anne’s writing. In a day and age where women’s place was ‘in the home’, Anne Lindbergh challenged social expectations not only by becoming a ‘female’ pioneer in aviation history but also through her writings. Despite addressing a plethora of social and political issues in books and articles, the core of Anne’s writing was deep and poetic and stemmed from a soulful observation of the world that intertwined both the beauty and the sorrow of her life. Hartog writes, ‘Anne’s poignant awareness of joy and sorrow, reflected in nature and integral to the fabric of ordinary life, would later be expressed in her poem “Security.” The poem implies that women sit at the edge of life, gleaning strength from ordinary tasks and the majesty of nature. Unlike men, who turn the working wheels of the world, women live in the great abyss between the earth and sky: “There is refuge in a seashell-/Or a star; / But in between, /Nowhere.”’

“I recognised how wonderful the freedom was of not having to do things every day and being able to go into a room and just write what one felt… One sees through the writing. You sink into a more authentic place inside yourself.” Living without writing is like “trying to paint a picture without any shadows and I think without any perspective…”’ (Anne Morrow Lindbergh)

Anne Morrow Lindbergh was an exceptional woman. She was strong, free spirited, adventurous, soulful and deeply attuned to the beauty and essence of life. What I loved most about her however, was her rebellious objection to passivity, idleness and the superficialities of etiquette and social propriety. In her journal she wrote “I must say over and over to myself, Make your world count.” In light of the many things she accomplished in her lifetime I’d have to conclude that Anne Morrow Lindbergh did indeed make her world count.

Between April 6, when the plane of President Juneval Habyarimana was shot down with a missile, and July 4, when the Tutsi rebel army captured the capital of Kigali, approximately eight hundred thousand Rwandans were slaughtered. ‘This is a number that cannot be grasped with the rational mind. It is like trying – all at once – to understand that the earth is surrounded by billions of balls of gas just like our sun across a vast blackness. You cannot understand the magnitude…’

Paul Rusesabagina, a Rwandan survivor of the 1994 genocide co-authors his sensitive retelling of one of the most horrific events in human history with writer Tom Zoellner. Embodying the poetic rhythm of African tradition and interweaving colourful hues of cultural wisdom through the narrative… an experience of great horror and inter-race hatred is juxtaposed with the sensory beauty of African life – memoirs of hope spoken out against the darkness.

In reminiscent dichotomy, Rusesabagina reflects upon his childhood, the peaceful state of justice that prevailed and the harmonic rhythm that embodied African life before painting for the reader a very different landscape that rapidly transformed the Rwandan countryside in 1994.It is this reflective nuance that gives definition and clarity to the present and to the future. Rusesabagina writes, ‘It is a rare person here, even the poorest grower of bananas, who cannot rattle off a string of significant dates in Rwanda’s past and tell you exactly what they mean to him and his family. They are like beads on our national necklace: 1885, 1959, 1973, 1990, 1994.’

George Orwell once said, “He who controls the past, controls the future,” and, Rusesabagina reflects ‘nowhere is that more true than in Rwanda. I am fully convinced that when so many ordinary people were swinging machetes at their neighbors in that awful springtime of 1994 they were not striking out at those individual victims per se but at a historical phantom. They were trying not so much to take life as to actually take control of the past.’

Paul Rusesabagina considers himself an ‘ordinary man’ who simply did ‘what was the right thing to do.’ While innocent Tutsi men, woman and children were being massacred at road blocks and brutally mutilated and killed with machetes by Hutu rebels on the streets, in their homes and in the refuge of churches and schools… Paul Rusesabagina pledged his life to save as many of his fellow men as he could. As manager of the Hotel des Mille Collines, one of the most extravagant hotels in the country, Paul wielded his influence and collected his bargaining chips which came in the form of diplomatic alliances, cigarettes, wine and spirits and negotiated with Hutu rebel forces to ensure the safety of over 1000 Tutsi Rwandans.

Reflecting back on the event, Rusesabagina writes, “Today I am convinced that the only thing that saved those 1,268 people in my hotel was words. Not the liquor, not money, not the UN. Just ordinary words directed against the darkness…”

“I met many people in Rwanda whose racial ideology I couldn’t stand, but I was unfailingly polite to them, and they learned to respect me even though our disagreements were obvious. This led to a priceless realisation for me. Someone who deals can never be an absolute hard-liner. The very act of negotiation makes it difficult, if not impossible, to dehumanise the person across the table from you. Because in negotiation you will never get 100 percent of what you want. You are forced to make a compromise, and by doing this you are forced to understand, and even sympathise with, the other person’s position. And if cups of good African coffee, some wine, a cognac, or all of the above could help lubricate this understanding, it was all to the good.”

Words directed against the darkness… there are few people who could act with such equanimity given the prevailing circumstances. Paul understood the power of diplomacy and he wielded this power like a skilled artisan to protect his countrymen.
‘The cousin of brutality’ Rusesabagina writes, ‘is a terrifying normalcy. So I tried never to see these men in terms of black or white. I saw them instead in degrees of soft and hard. It was the soft that I was trying to locate inside them; once I could get my fingers into it, the advantage was mine. If sitting down with abhorrent people and treating them as friends is what it took to get through to that soft place, then I was more than happy to pour the Scotch.’

Whilst pouring the Scotch at the Hotel Des Mille Collines… blood was flooding the streets of Rwanda. Rusesabagina recounts the radio broadcasts that fuelled the bloody attacks ’”Do your work,” I heard the announcers say. “Clean your neighbourhood of brush. Cut the tall trees.”
I would hear variations on these phrases echoing countless times over the next three months. The “tall trees” was an unmistakable reference to the Tutsis. “Clean your neighbourhood of brush” meant that rebel army sympathizers might be hiding among Tutsi families and so the entire family should be “cleaned” to be on the safe side. But somehow the worst phrase of all to me was “Do your work.” It made killing sound like a responsibility. Like it was the normal thing to do.’

Hatred is manifested in darkness… not darkness of circumstance but rather darkness of spirit when we allow the events that shadow our lives to incubate in our soul and become the filter by which all else is viewed. For many Rwandans, such hatred could easily be justified as their lives are forever scarred by the memory of watching their sons, daughters, fathers, aunts, sisters and brothers slaughtered mercilessly for reasons none other than the origin of their race. Paul Rusesabagina is a great man, not only because of the incalculable risks he took to save the lives of his fellow Rwandans but because he never lessened himself to hatred, with determinacy of spirit he rose above the evil that prevailed against him.

In reflection, Rusesabagina writes of the genocide ‘I have been told that it is common for people to mark exactly where they are when they learn of death on a grand scale. I have met Americans, for example, who can tell me in detail which suit they were putting on or what highway they were driving down at the time of the suicide jet attacks on the World Trade Centre. Perhaps it is a way to link our own small presence to the great bloodstained currents of history for just a moment. I suppose this is also a way of feeling a part of an overwhelming fatal event, a slight flirtation with the finality that awaits us all – a rehearsal for our own deaths, you might say.’

For 1268 Rwandans… this finality of death was preserved by the life of one great man – Paul Rusesabagina, a truly inspiring story.

Eric Metaxas account of William Wilberforce’s life helped form the skeletal narrative for the recent blockbuster movie ‘Amazing Grace’. His account of Wilberforce’s 74 year journey is generous in its applause and recognition of this social reformer whose fight to end the European Slave Trade caused tides of justice to sweep across the world. The abolition of the slave trade is the hallmark of Wilberforce’s life… a cause for which he lived, a cause for which he never stopped fighting, a cause for which he was prepared to die.

Not dismissing older accounts of Wilberforce’s life, Metaxes chose to frame the backbone of his book from the time which Wilberforce called the “Great Change”... the year of his conversion. Metaxes writes, ‘In Wilberforce’s private diary we can see the first hints that the ground is shifting, that the “Great Change,” had begun. Of a wealthy friend he then wrote: “Strange that the most generous men and religious do not see that their duties increase with their fortune, and that they will be punished for spending it” on themselves in eating and drinking. He describes as “shocking” a dance at an opera performance of the story of Don Juan, but what particularly touches him is that the audience is too jaded to react at all. It’s easy to dismiss these observations as moralistic, but what is compelling is the idea that Wilberforce had at this time all he wanted for the taking: money, entertainment, accolades, and friends in the highest places. The world that had embraced him as its dearest darling would shower him with whatever he liked. But he is now suddenly untouched by its charms. He seems for the first time to sense that there might be something more.

This silent restlessness of spirit and dissatisfaction with worldly charms seemed strangely out of character for one who, at a young age, had found success in the hard-ball political arena. A colorful social scene had formed the stage of Wilberforce’s fast-trekked career assailing him with a diversity of culture, entertainment and friends and his social prowess had earned him the title of popularity. Upon his conversion however, his attention was drawn to a much more somber reality with his bitter-sweet lust for social recognition succumbing to deep introspective humility and his social frivolities being replaced by an urgent need to make a transforming difference in the world. In his journals Wilberforce wrote “As soon as I reflected seriously upon these subjects the deep guilt and black ingratitude of my past life forced itself upon me in the strongest colours, and I condemned myself for having wasted my precious time, and opportunities, and talents.”

From this time henceforth, Wilberforce dedicated his life to the abolition of slavery in every colony of the empire. With great humility he postured himself as a receptacle of great responsibility, writing in his journal “some are thrown into public, some have their lot in private life… [It] would merit no better name than desertion… if I were thus to fly from the post where Providence has placed me.” The foundational tenet of his life could thus be described in these few short words “God almighty has set before me two great objects: the suppression of the slave trade and the reformation of manners.”

Wielding his political savvy in the House of Commons, Wilberforce began a fight in the late 1780’s to end the cruelties of human slavery… a fight which would continue to the final years of his life. Battling sickness, discouragement, heated political adversity and feelings of supreme inadequacies, Wilberforce found courage and strength in the words of his fellow friend and politician William Pitt ’”Do not lose time,” Pitt famously said, “or the ground will be occupied by another.”

Beseeching the support of Parliament, Wilberforce approached the bench with these words ‘We can no longer plead ignorance, we cannot evade it, it is now an object placed before us, we cannot pass it. We may spurn it, we may kick it out of our way, but we cannot turn aside so as to avoid seeing it. For it is brought now so directly before our eyes that this House must decide, and must justify to all the world, and to their own consciences, the rectitudes of their grounds and of the principles of their decision… Let not Parliament be the only body that is insensible to national justice.”

“There is something not a little provoking in the dry, calm way in which gentlemen are apt to speak of the suffering of others,” he said. “The question suspended! Is the desolation of wretched Africa suspended? Are all the complicated miseries of this atrocious trade – is the work of death suspended? No sir, I will not delay this motion, and I will call upon the House not to insult the forbearance of Heaven by delaying this tardy act of justice!”

In his journals, Wilberforce trawled the depths of soul in expressing his deepening agitations with the state of England. “I was agonised to think that this Trade could last another day,” he wrote. “I was in a state of agitation from morning to night.”

‘On February 22’ Metaxes writes, ‘Wilberforce announced his retirement from politics. Just as when he had left his seat for Yorkshire to take the lesser seat for Bramber, Wilberforce felt regret.’

“When I consider that my public life is nearly expired…” he wrote to a friend, “I am filled with the deepest compunction from the consciousness of my having made so poor a use of the talents committed to my stewardship. The heart knows its own bitterness. We alone know ourselves the opportunities we have enjoyed, and the comparative use we have made of them… To your friendly ear… I breathe out my secret sorrows. I might be supposed by others to be fishing for a compliment. Well, it is an unspeakable consolation that we serve a gracious Master, who giveth liberally and upbraideth not… I always spoke and voted according tot he dictates of my conscience, for the public and not for my own private interest… Yet I am but too conscious of numerous and great sins of omission, many opportunities of doing good whether not at all or very inadequately improved.”

The humility of this man whose life inflected social reformation through the greater parts of the world is inspiring. Postured in grace, strengthened in compassion and fuelled by justice – the social landscape of humanity has been changed forever by the life of William Wilberforce. in his lifetime, he released the shackles off millions of black slaves and pronounced freedom of life to all of humanity… thus indeed ends a worthy life.

Elizabeth Elliot’s biography of the life of Amy Carmichael is one of the most thorough and beautifully themed books of Amma’s life that I have ever read. The sensitive narrative takes the reader on a journey from the tender upbringing of Amy’s childhood in England to her final days at Dohnavur in India where the powerful legacy of her life still lives on. It was a life steeped in challenge, strengthened in unwavering spiritual resolve and fashioned by love, and Elliot’s expository opens the door not only to Amy’s courageous acts but to the soul of the inner woman and the light that never dimmed. The challenges, inadequacies and pains which Amy sought in all humility to repress and hide from public view are bought to the surface in tender respect by Elliot as she reveals through Amy’s story just how brave this woman truly was.

Three inscriptions are written over the doors of the Milan Cathedral:

One, with a carving of roses, says, “All that pleases is but for a moment;” another, with a carving of a cross, says, “All that grieves is but for a moment;” and over the great central door are only the words, “Nothing is important but that which is eternal.”
This unwavering belief was the cornerstone of Amy Carmichael’s life… she relinquished all for the cause of eternity.

‘Her great longing was to have a “single eye” for the glory of God.’ Elliot writes, ‘Whatever might blur the vision God had given her of His work, whatever could distract or deceive or tempt others to seek anything but the Lord Jesus Himself she tried to eliminate. Why waste precious time, painful effort, on lesser things? Someone suggested that more girls would be drawn to the meetings if she offered lessons in sewing or embroidery and administered only a mild dose of the Gospel. But these girls worked from five in the morning till half past six in the evening. They had one day off in ten. They hadn’t time for foolishness. Furthermore, so far as Amy could see, there was no scriptural warrant for “consecrated fancywork and chatter,” for “fleshy things rather than spiritual.” “I would rather have two who came in earnest than a hundred who came to play,” she said. “We have no time to toy with souls like this. It is not by ceremonial tea making and flower arranging, not by wool chrysanthemum-making and foreign sewing-learning, but ‘By My Spirit, saith the Lord.’”’

Many of her devout beliefs, some would conclude, almost border on eccentricity – so strong are their objections to conformity. I found myself humored time and time again by my identification with Amy’s extraordinary focus and intolerance for trifling matters. Reading of her objections to fiction and anything so ‘unnecessary’, to entertainment and anything so ‘inconsequential’, to fashion and anything so ‘empty’... I felt almost as though I were reading a screen-print of my own life.

This inner strength and singularity whilst confounding and humoring close observers proved, when channeled into kingdom focus, powerful beyond measure. Far from being a mere humanitarian or social worker – Amy regarded her calling as a responsibility to raise up a new generation of leaders. She sought not simply to rehabilitate or comfort those who had partaken in the terrors of social injustice and religious distortion, rather, she committed her life to nurturing and strengthening Godly men and women who would grow up in wisdom and transform the fabric of a nation forever. She quoted often from Plato’s Republic ‘War implies soldiers, and soldiers must be carefully trained to their profession. They must be strong, swift, and brave; high-spirited, but gentle.’ In her starry cluster at Dohnavur, Amy Carmichael was fashioning an army.

Dorothea Beale of Cheltenham once wrote, “Give them not only noble teaching but noble teachers,” Elliot writes, ‘Amy felt that the world had far too many run-of-the-mill Christians, cool, respectable, satisfied with the usual, the mediocre. Why bother to lay down one’s life to multiply the number of those? Damascus blades, forged in extremes of heat and cold, were what India needed. For that she was quite prepared to pay the price.’

There are few women who could walk the path that Amy forged through the Indian continent. Leaving the refinements of English lifestyle behind, she embarked upon a foreign landscape which was drunk with religious mysticism, corrupted in social values and boasting of a culture so very different to her own. Where many others would have sought to impose their learned beliefs upon a ‘socially impoverished’ nation, Amy embraced this new culture and respected it as the foundational stone of her new life. Elliot cites one experience that exemplifies her adventurous spirit; ‘Far more to Amy’s taste than riding to the English church in a proper carriage was trundling in a bullock cart to the convention held especially for missionaries. There she felt at home at once, away from the scenes of “fashionable Christianity” which were to her so strange and saddening.’

Cultural sensitivity Amy also learned was a powerful ally in her work as a missionary. Elliot writes, ‘One day she was telling the Good News to an old lady by interpretation. Just when she seemed ready to turn to Christ in faith, she noticed Amy’s hands. It was very cold that day, and Amy was wearing fur gloves. “I cannot remember whether we were able to recall her to what mattered so much more than gloves, but this I do remember, I went home, took off my English clothes, put on my Japanese kimono, and never again, I trust, risked so much for the sake of so very little.”’

What an inspiring read…

There are only a handful of books that have the power to change our lives forever. For me ‘Delighted in God’, the biography of George Mueller by Roger Steer was one such book that shall inspire and change me for all of eternity. My first introduction to the life of George Mueller was in 2002 when I visited his orphanages in England. Opening the time-faded covers of brown leather bound photo albums; I looked at the faces of thousands of children who had grown up under his guardianship and in so doing, was overwhelmed at the magnitude of his vision and the humble dedication of his commitment.

‘He was a man of great faith’ people said of George Mueller, a man whose strength of conviction and unwavering faith in God led him to act ‘irrationally’ and ‘irresponsibly’ in the sight of men but ‘heroic’ in the annals of history. Liberated from a lifestyle of depravity and dissoluteness, George Mueller as a young man came to understand the grace of God and the gift of faith. In his early twenties, Mueller’s fervent ardor for the things of God led him to forsake the professional role he was ‘expected’ to fit and pursue a selfless life that promised nothing in material gain but the eternal wealth of sowing into the Kingdom of God.

One thing that has impressed itself on my heart since my experience in England is the fact that George Mueller in the sixty-three years of serving, never asked for a single donation to support the orphanages. Every need was committed to God in prayer and believed for in faith. Towards the end of his book, Richard Steer summarises the financial abundance that was the reward of such faith. He writes, ‘in sixty-three years, Muller received nearly one and a half million pounds (to be precise: £1,453,513 13s 3d)’

In his own words, Mueller explains the driving passion of his faith ‘My chief object was the glory of God, by giving a practical demonstration as to what could be accomplished simply through the instrumentality of prayer and faith, in order thus to benefit the Church of Christ at large, and to lead a careless world to see the reality of the things of God, by showing them, in this work, that the Living God is still, as four thousand years ago, the Living God. This my aim has been abundantly honoured. Multitudes of sinners have been thus converted; multitudes of the children of God in all parts of the world have been benefited by this work, even as I had anticipated. But the larger the work has grown, the greater has been the blessing, bestowed in the very way in which I looked for blessing; for the attention of hundreds of thousands has been drawn to the work and many tens of thousands have come to see it. All this leads me to desire further and further to labour on in this way, in order to bring yet greater glory to the name of the Lord… That it may be seen how much one poor man, simply by trusting in God, can bring about by prayer; and that thus other children of God may be led increasingly to trust in Him, in their individual positions and circumstances, therefore I am led to this further enlargement.’

‘What is the secret of your service for God?’ someone once asked Muller.
‘There was a day when I died, utterly died,’ he replied, and as he spoke he bent lower and lower until he almost touched the floor, ‘died to George Muller, his opinions, preferences, tastes and will – died to the world, its approval or censure – died to the approval or blame even of my brethren and friends – and since then I have studied to show myself approved only unto God.’

Countless miracles of faith are recorded in written journals of orphans and carers alike who walked, prayed and believed with this great man of faith. Steer records many of these instances in his book but found even 250 pages to be inadequate room to account for all of God’s provisions and moments of divine intervention. I was particularly humbled in reading this account of Mueller’s life to realise the extent of his faith and the humility with which he postured himself before God and before others. Many offers were made through his life where people wished to sow into the personal wealth of George Mueller and his family. Mueller kindly turned down the offers with all graciousness of humility stating ‘How could I pray if I had reserves?’
‘During his life,’ Steer writes, ‘he received about ninety-three thousand pounds for his personal expenses: of this he gave away over eighty-one thousand; and at his death his sole estate was valued at about one hundred and sixty pounds.’

An amazing book told of a truly remarkable life. The faithfulness of George Mueller is something I will ever seek to emulate and aspire to. His understanding of the ‘temporal’ is lived out loud through the importance he placed on the ‘eternal’ and the legacy of his life is a lesson in Christianity for us all.

“Since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” – Hebrews 12:1

John C Maxwell uses this much quoted scripture as the tenet for his book ‘Running with the Giants’. The ideology of biblical leadership is replete with such metaphors as ‘running the race’ because such imagery conjures the spirit of our earthly journey… seeing ourselves as participators of an event much greater than ourselves, inspiring us to hurdle the obstacles, to repress thoughts of giving up, to be encouraged and motivated by those cheering us on, to be inspired by those who have run before us, to never flag nor fail, to endure and press on towards the finish line.

In an interblend of fiction, scripture, leadership wisdom and practical application, John C Maxwell sets the scene as he inspires the reader to imagine what it would be like to be running our lives with some of the great men and women of the bible cheering from the sidelines. What wisdom would they bestow upon us? What depth of experience could they apply to our own journey? What would they say to us when our minds are plagued by thoughts of giving up? How would they encourage us, inspire us, identify with us?

A great man of God in my life often quotes this scripture ‘Elisha was a man just like us.’ These few simple words remove the high and lofty thoughts of holiness that differentiate ‘men of the bible’ and ‘men of the modern day world’… they resonate loud and clear that the great men and women of bible times who walked with Jesus were indeed people ‘just like us.’ Winston Churchill once wrote “In every age there comes a time when a leader must come forward to meet the needs of the hour. Therefore, there is no potential leader who does not have an opportunity to make a positive difference in society. Tragically, there are times when a leader does not rise to the hour.” Esther, David, Elisha, Moses, Rebekah, Daniel and countless others who Maxwell envisions cheering us on from the sidelines of our lives were such individuals who came forward to meet the needs of the hour.

‘Sad is the day,’ Maxwell writes, ‘when a person becomes absolutely satisfied with the life he is living, the thoughts he is thinking, the deeds he is doing – when there forever ceases to beat at the door of his soul a desire to do something greater for God.’ 23 Years passed from the time Joseph had the dream until it was fulfilled. 23 years of opportunity to give up, 23 years to build faith…

Maxwell asserts a number of reasons why we fail to take hold of the calling upon our lives. The time between the promise and its fruition like the 23 years of Joseph’s waiting can disillusion many of us, temptation and the allurement of the world present us with the temptation to divert or shortcut God’s plans and equally powerful are feelings of inadequacy which can potentially thwart God’s plans for our lives.

‘Many times we discount what we can do’ Maxwell writes, ‘because we think we are too small or powerless to make a difference. Consider the situation of Naaman’s servant girl
She was a slave, the lowest anyone could be in social standing
She was an outsider, a Jew living in Syria
She was young; why would a powerful leader listen to her?
She was a female in a male-dominated culture

Maxwell concludes with this simple but powerful truth ‘Only when you see what is important will you be willing to do the seemingly unimportant’ only when you see the finish line in view will you be able to adopt the posture of embracing a ‘whatever it takes’ mentality.

‘Tuesdays with Morrie’ is a sensitive narrative between an old teacher and his former student – the author, Mitch Albom. The delicate themes of the book resonate so beautifully with the interplay of roles in human life; the relationships we form, the lessons we learn and the choices we make at the crossroads of our future. It asks of us to pause… to see the beauty in a wild flower, to watch the sun rise in silent repose, to reach out a hand of kindness to one in need, to smile, to laugh, to love and to never forget what it means to truly live.

An incurable life-threatening illness weaves a thread of reconciliation between Morrie and Mitch, for as the former teacher faces his inevitable death he teaches Mitch to find his life. Morrie’s mantra of life could be easily summed up in the one-word mission statement of William Booth “Others”. He says to his student, “So many people walk around with a meaningless life. They seem half-asleep, even when they’re busy doing things they think are important. This is because they’re chasing the wrong things. The way you get meaning into your life is to devote yourself to loving others, devote yourself to your community around you, and devote yourself to creating something that gives you purpose and meaning.”

Morrie uses his illness as the catalyst to teach and mentor those who, in the prime of their youth have become disillusioned and disheartened with the course of their lives. “When all this started, I asked myself ‘Am I going to withdraw from the world, like most people do, or am I going to live?’ I decided I’m going to live – or at least try to live – the way I want, with dignity, with courage, with humor, with composure.
There are some mornings when I cry and cry and mourn for myself. Some mornings, I’m so angry and bitter. But it doesn’t last long. Then I get up and say, ‘I want to live…’”

“Once you learn how to die,” Morrie says, “you learn how to live.”

“Everyone knows they’re going to die but nobody believes it.” Morrie says, “If we did, we would do things differently…
There’s a better approach. To know you’re going to die, and to be prepared for it at any time. That’s better. That way you can actually be more involved in your life while you’re living.”

In his lessons, Morrie inspires Mitch to reject the popular culture of self-gratification, superficiality and materialistic pursuits and embrace a nobler and more fulfilling expression of life, a culture founded on human goodness, acceptance, ethics and love. “Giving to other people is what makes me feel alive.” Morrie tells his former student, “Not my car or my house. Not what I look like in the mirror. When I give my time, when I can make someone smile after they were feeling sad, it’s as close to healthy as I ever feel.”

In his frail and weakening state Morrie sent a message to the world that life is meant to be lived each and every day. Happiness is not some esoteric destination to be reached one day when… it is to be seized in the smallest moments of beauty, love and companionship. The day we stop admiring the beauty of a sunset or sacrifice the gift of human friendship to our career aspirations is the day we start to die inwardly. Though the gravestone has not yet been erected, the epitaph is being written… we have forgotten what it means to truly live.

Os Guinness’ book ‘Long Journey Home’ explores the transitory state of life, the temperance of our lives on earth. Quoting the words of famous philosophers and intellectuals, Guinness weaves a tapestry of soul-stirring questions that cause us to question what we believe and whether our convictions are rooted in something stronger than simply an inherited belief.

Guinness echoes the famous words of George Santayana in asking ‘What is life?’ Santayana’s reply; ‘a form of motion and a journey through a foreign world.’ This theme of foreignism, of feeling like a stranger in a world so very familiar is asked on a philosophical and intellectual plane by so many who have walked this earth. In his famous speech “My Credo,” delivered in Berlin in 1932, Albert Einstein put it this way: ‘Out situation on earth seems strange. Everyone of us appears here involuntarily and uninvited for a short stay, without knowing the whys and the wherefore.’ For journalist Malcolm Muggeridge, this theme became the motif for his entire life. ‘The first thing I remember about the world – and I pray it may be the last – is that I was a stranger in it. This feeling, which everyone has in some degree, and which is at once the glory and desolation of homo sapiens, provides the only thread of consistency that I can see in my life.’

Sometimes without being able to put our feelings in definitive terms, we feel as though we are lone travelers in a foreign world… we embrace the customs, we learn to love the culture and the people therein and like barnacles on the hull of a ship, we lynch ourselves merciless to travel in whatever direction this ship of life may take us. However, unlike barnacles who never question the direction in which the ship is steered, the natural tendency of human beings is to examine the primeval instincts that determine our lives, the hypothesis of human subsistence and the supernatural forces that convene our existence and try to interpret them through some philosophical guise. Guinness writes, ‘This will to find meaning is fundamental. It is “the primary motivational force in man,” according to psychiatrist Viktor Frankl. “Meaning is not a luxury for us,” says philosopher Dallas Willard. “It is a kind of spiritual oxygen, we might say, that enables our souls to live.” Abraham Heschel expressed it from his Jewish viewpoint: “It is not enough for me to be able to say ‘I am’; I want to know who I am and in relation to whom I live. It is not enough for me to ask questions; I want to know how to answer the one question that seems to encompass everything I face: What am I here for?”

Religion, philosophy, mysticism, scientology, astrology and science all serve as channels through which we seek understanding of the unexplainable realm of life. The unknown looms as a dangerous threat in our minds. Anything we cannot define, explain or control threatens us with a feeling of powerlessness, defenselessness and vulnerability… and so we seek by every means possible to explain life, to understand it, to define it and ultimately, to control it. By imposing definition however, we lose that fragile tentativeness of mystery that envelops the most beautiful and wonder-invoking things of life. Even Charles Darwin admitted at the end of his life that his attempt to explain the origin of our existence in terms of pragmatics diffused from his journey the enticing wonder of beauty and nature in its purest unadulterated and awe-inspiring form. His first visit to the Brazilian rainforest had suffused him with “feelings of wonder, admiration, and devotion.” ‘Later,’ Guinness writes, ‘increasingly influenced by the effects of his chosen philosophy of naturalism, he acknowledged that he had lost the faculty for comprehending anything apart from empirical data. “But now the grandest scenes would not cause any such convictions and feelings to rise in my mind. It may be truly said that I am like a man who has become colour blind.”’

C.S Lewis writes “At first the longing for joy is a rapier-piercing desire for an “unnamable something” triggered by sensations such as the sound of a bell, the smell of a fire, or the sound of birds. But slowly we realize the grail lies beyond all human objects. No mountain we can climb, no flower we can find, no horizon we can set out for will ever fulfill our search for joy. If someone follows this quest,” says Lewis, “he must come out at last into the clear knowledge that the human soul was made to enjoy some object that is never fully given – nay, cannot even be imagined as given – in our present mode of subjective and spatio-temporal existence.” There are some elements of life that couldn’t be explained in rationale terms, they cannot be vetoed or controlled in the surge of a public appeal or defined by modern science. Therein lies the question of faith.

Guinness writes, ‘almost all great reforms in Western history – including the banning of infanticide, the abolition of slavery, the rise of the women’s movement, and progress in civil rights – have been inspired by faith and led by people of faith. Yet faith itself is commonly dismissed as reactionary.’ Not only is faith discharged as reactionary, but it is also perceived as passive, powerless and ineffectual. In times of faith, Alexis de Tocqueville observed, “the final aim of life is placed beyond life.” Guinness writes, ‘That’s what calling does to the journey. “Follow me,” Jesus said two thousand years ago and changed the course of history. That’s why calling provides the Archimedean point by which faith moves the world. That’s why calling is the most comprehensive reorientation and the most profound motivation on the human journey. Answering the call is the way to find and fulfill the central, entrepreneurial purpose of your life as you journey home.’

I have always been inspired by great oratory… speeches that capture the sentiment of a nation or people group, words that birth courage, arouse strength of heart, inspire loyalty and allegiance, command valour, instill hope, ignite honour, instill pride, and unify nations to a common cause. Such speeches come in several forms:

There are words that have been spoken with equal conviction, eloquence and powerful prose to the most famous orations that may never be voiced to the world… speeches made by fathers sending their sons to war, words spoken by students honouring the indelible mark a special teacher had on their life, a eulogy spoken of someone whose life will not pass by unremembered – on a personal level these speeches will invoke in us a power of emotion far greater than the compelling oratory of a president or religious teacher.

There are speeches that commemorate chapters in our lives and unite us in the forward progression of humankind spoken by men such as Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King who painted in words the sentiment of a new world once the darkness of injustice had passed. Then there are speeches remembered from generations past which inspire us all to live for something more. Abraham Lincoln’s appeal to the nobility in us all to ‘highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ? that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom – and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.’ Winston Churchill’s famous speeches that embodied the tenacity of his fighting spirit ‘We shall not flag nor fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France and on the seas and oceans; we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air. We shall defend our island whatever the cost may be; we shall fight on beaches, landing grounds, in fields, in streets, and on the hills. We shall never surrender.’

As well, there are the more solemn instructions such as those given by Robert Emmet in his final salute to life ‘I have but a few words more to say. I am going to my cold and silent grave: my lamp of life is nearly extinguished: my race is run: the grave opens to receive me, and I sink into its bosom! I have but one request to ask at my departure from this world – it is the charity of its silence! Let no man write my epitaph: for as no man who knows my motives dare now vindicate them, let not prejudice or ignorance asperse them. Let them and me repose in obscurity and peace, and my tomb remain uninscribed, until other times, and other men, can do justice to my character; when my country takes her place among the nations of the earth, then, and not till then, let my epitaph be written. I have done.’ Socrates the great philosopher impacts the world still with his soulful wisdom ‘But this is not difficult, O Athenians, to escape death, but it is much more difficult to avoid depravity, for it runs swifter than death.’

One of the most compelling and inspiring speeches I have ever heard sounded itself in my ears in a small stone church in England. Despite it being played from a portable cd player – Martin Luther King’s voice soared through the small chapel with such passion and conviction as I have never heard. The words ‘I have a dream’ echoed through the church and through the hallowed corridors of my spirit with such potency of belief that I felt, in that moment, greatness well up in me like a soaring dove from some great depth within myself that had been previously untapped.

‘I have a dream’ Martin Luther King spoke ‘to say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream.

It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day the state of Alabama, whose governor’s lips are presently dripping with the words of interposition and nullification, will be transformed into a situation where little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and little white girls and walk together as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today.

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.’

The book ‘Great Speeches’ by Penguin and Viking Publications is an inspiring collection of great orators, politicians, men and women of influence who had the bravery of heart and courage of conviction to speak at their divinely appointed time, words of wisdom and strength into the lives of their fellow men. Pericles, Franklin D Roosevelt, Winston Churchill, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, Socrates, John F Kennedy and Caroline Chisholm are among the many authors who make this book complete and leave our lives forever changed.

The old-age wisdom of Dale Carnegie and those extraordinary philosophers and men of wisdom whom he quotes openly in his book ‘How to win Friends and Influence People’ is no more outdated than the era in which it was first written. The strains of wisdom through his book flow through several core channels of thought and revelation… these I surmise to be humility, authenticity and respect. No single one of these attributes can live or flourish beyond the boundary of pride and self-interest, for in essence, their very strength is drawn from the capacity of the human will to lay down one’s own motives for the good of mankind.

In the enlightenment of the modern age, we seem to have taken it as our duty to pass our enlightened views to the prevailing ignorance and naivety of our peers. Our sense of importance is fuelled by our acquired social standing and the so-called intellectual and success-measured victories that assert our dominance over the commonality of the crowd. We see in ourselves a responsibility to ‘educate’ ‘enlighten’ and ‘surpass’ the common views held by the general public and in doing so – fail to see our efforts hold no progress other than to undermine, challenge unnecessarily and wound the pride of our fellow comrades. Contrary to our self-embraced posture of authority, a truly great man – Emerson, once said “Every man I meet is my superior in some way. In that, I learn of him.” Were we truly to understand this phrase in its potential light – we would see firsthand the folly of our self-asserted dominance.

Socrates, whom many have come to regard as one of the most forward-thinking philosophers who has ever walked the earth, lived his life by constant admission of his inadequacies. This short phrase postured in humility and self-flagellation was one that Socrates repeated often to those who sought wisdom from his enlightened views “One thing only I know, and that is that I know nothing.” I love the humility by which Socrates made this admission… for in essence, by his laying down of pride – he empowered another to speak and sow greatness into his life.

Dale Carnegie took this concept one step further in instructing ‘Other people may be totally wrong. But they don’t think so. Don’t condemn them. Any fool can do that. Try to understand them. Only wise, tolerant, exceptional people even try to do that.’ Perhaps this was the single most impacting statement in the entire book – a reverse psychology of our instinctive human nature – a lesson in humility. How often do we try to understand truly what another person is saying before imposing judgement, criticism or opinion? The promptness of a ready-formed opinion or judgement consistently proves to be one of my most regrettable weaknesses.

Carnegie continues, ‘I have found it of enormous value when I can permit myself to understand the other person. The way in which I have worded this statement may seem strange to you. Is it necessary to permit oneself to understand another? I think it is. Our first reaction to most of the statements (which we hear from other people) is an evaluation or judgment, rather than an understanding of it. When someone expresses some feeling, attitude or belief, our tendency is almost immediately to feel “that’s right,” or “that’s stupid,” “that’s abnormal,” “that’s unreasonable,” “that’s incorrect,” “that’s not nice.” Very rarely do we permit ourselves to understand precisely what the meaning of the statement is to the other person.’

Another masquerade by which we inflate our feelings of self-importance of by our superiority of thought and opinion in an active debate. In fact, in more cases than not, we seem to stoke argument for the very self-indulgent pleasure of provoking averse views in order to impose on others our own ‘truth’. Carnegie argues against this human flaw by asking what benefits are to be gained by employing such tactics. ‘In talking with people,’ he asserts, ‘you don’t begin by discussing the things on which you differ. Begin by emphasizing – and keep on emphasizing – the things on which you agree.’ – Find common ground, a harmony of opinion and cohesion of thought and then, perhaps, true intellectual thought and conversation might arise.

“A great man shows his greatness,” said Carlyle, “by the way he treats little men.” Greatness is not to be gained in superiority of intellectual thought, profoundness of wisdom or flawlessness of character… it is to be possessed by those who bestow with all graciousness of character and humility – respect and acceptance of those around them. The cornerstone of this book, though often portrayed beneath the guise of acquiring excellent communications skills and the tactful employment of people management – finds its core rooted in this one simple word – ‘humility.’