Good Morning Holy Spirit (Revised And Expanded) Order Printed Copy
- Author: Benn Hinn
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About the Book
"Good Morning, Holy Spirit" by Benny Hinn is a spiritual guide that explores the author's personal journey with the Holy Spirit. Through personal anecdotes and biblical teachings, Hinn shares how individuals can cultivate a deeper relationship with the Holy Spirit and experience the transformative power of God's presence in their lives. This revised and expanded edition offers practical insights and encouragement for those seeking a closer connection with the Holy Spirit.
Xi Shengmo
Xi Shengmo, whose birth name was Xi Zizhi, was born into a literary class family of traditional Chinese medical doctors in Western Zhang village near Linfen, Shanxi Province. Young Xi received traditional Chinese education which would one day place him among the ranks of the learned Confucian scholars. Among his friends, he was a high-spirited boy, very forceful in character and a born leader. But, when alone, there were always questions about human life, perplexing and disturbing him, and he longed for an answer to the problem of existence. When his father passed away, his estate was divided. Young Xi purchased a farm on the outskirts of the town. He now became a Confucian scholar who in 1851 obtained Xiu Cai (BA), the first of three literary degrees. He soon won the esteem of the humble villagers and was asked to mediate in quarrels, law suits and other emergencies. As a result, his reputation for wisdom spread far and wide.
But with Xi, happiness and rest of soul were not purchased by such paltry trifles. His first wife passed way, leaving no children, and Confucianism did nothing to still the tumult of his soul. His study of Chinese classics, while stimulating the intellectual side of his nature, did not bring peace. At the age of thirty, he was married again, to a girl in her late teens, who became a loving and understanding wife. But the continued conflict in Xiâs soul was affecting his health. When friends suggested that an occasional use of the opium could do no harm and might bring relief, he decided to test its merits.
Temporary exhilaration was followed by a deeper depression of spirit than he had suffered before, however. He soon became an addict and resorted to opium again and again, until he was only a shadow of his former self. Committed to death by his wife and friends, he was dressed in his best clothing and laid on his bed, awaiting the moment of departure. To his great relief, his world-weary spirit seemed to be leaving the body. Suddenly it was arrested by the authoritative command, âGo back! Go back!â Sadly, the order was obeyed and the sick man found himself again facing the realities of life. After his conversion, Xi never conceded that what had happened was the fantasy of a distorted mind, but felt rather that it was the voice of God.
In 1877, a famine of fearful proportions stalked Shanxi province. For several years, there was no rain and, consequently, no crops. Thousands of people perished from hunger, diseases or suicide. In the midst of the distress, it was learned that two foreigners, David Hill (British Methodist missionary) and Timothy Richard (British Baptist missionary), had come to a nearby town. They wore Chinese dress, distributing food and money to the starving people. They also brought with them a religion of which the people of Shanxi never had heard.
With the end of the severe famine in 1879, Hill and Richard conducted a unique type of literature evangelism at the time of the triennial examinations in Taiyuan, and offered prizes for the best literary essays on Christian themes, which covered such subjects as opium, images of the gods, and the regulation of the heart and life; the essays sought to lead scholars to examine the Christian faith.
Urged on by his family to prove his prowess, Xi wrote four essays under four different names, and submitted them for examination. When the results were announced, he won three out of the four prizes offered. He went reluctantly to collect the prize from Hill at the missionaryâs house in Pingyang, accompanied by his brother-in-law. Later Xi described the meeting:
As daylight banished darkness, so did Mr. Hillâs presence dissipate all the idle rumors I had heard. All sense of fear was gone; my mind was at rest. I beheld his kindly eye and remembered the words of Mencius: âIf a manâs heart is not right, his eye will certainly bespeak it.â That face told me I was in the presence of a true, good man.
Xi became Hillâs assistant in writing literary tracts and translating the New Testament. Within two months, he became a Christian and accepted Hillâs help in breaking his addiction to opium. After Xi started to read the Bible, the Book began to exert a great influence upon him, giving him hope of deliverance from the dreadful habit of opium smoking. One day, as he was reading the story of the crucifixion, he fell on his knees, with the Bible before him, weeping as he read. At that moment, he felt that the dying, yet living Savior, enfolded his weary soul in his great love. His search was ended; peace like a river became his portion. The slave of sin was now and forever the bond-servant of God.
This peace did not last long, however; for a week, Xi neither ate nor slept. In the fierce combat between good and evil, he experienced almost every agony known to the human body. Weakness, faintness, dizziness, exhaustion, fever, chills, depressionâ-all attacked his enfeebled frame. When the struggle was most critical, the addict cried out, âThough I die, I never will touch opium again.â Through prayer âwithout ceasingâ and Bible reading, it was revealed to him that only the Holy Spirit could enable him to conquer in the conflict. Xi said later of the Spirit:
He did what man and medicine could not do. From that moment, my body was perfectly at rest. Then I knew that to break off opium without faith in Jesus would indeed be impossible.
He was finally delivered from opium bondage and became a new man. When this victory over opium was won, Xi adopted the name Shengmo, meaning âconqueror of demons.â Along with a sense of abundant grace given him came an intense longing to spread the possibility of such an experience to men near and far. Soon he became convinced that he was commissioned by God to do that very thing.
Thus, in a very brief time, he was converted, committed to holiness of life, and feeling a call to preach the Gospel. After Hill received a new appointment and returned to Hankou, Xi was baptized in November 1880 at Pingyang by J. C. Turner, missionary with the China Inland Mission (CIM). Subsequently he worked with CIM missionaries in pioneer evangelism in Shanxi and surrounding areas. His education, forceful personality, and spiritual gifts, together with a fervent faith expressed in a deep prayer life, quickly led to his emergence as a spiritual leader.
Now the opium-drugged victims of Shanxi occupied Xiâs attention. The wide-spread use of the opiate required earnest and intense effort if the enslaved were to be rescued. His first attempt to do so was in a small town near his village. Since they were short of funds, Mrs. Xi sold some of her precious bridal garments and jewelry. They rented a shop and stocked it with medicines, and furnished it with Christian texts on the walls.
For twenty years, the system adopted in this area became a pattern for between forty and fifty others that were opened as refuges for the users of opium. In each station, hundreds of persons were treated with pills that eventually Xi made himself by a secret formula which he believed was revealed to him by God. Loving care, presentation of Gospel truth, and much prayer led to the liberation of thousands of addicts, who then carried the news of their freedom to others. Every new patient was expected to attend daily prayer sessions. Indeed, only those willing to make prayer a major factor in their treatment were admitted. The pills, which took the place of expensive, imported ones, the supply of which had often failed at a crucial time, were the fruit of a season of fasting and prayer, plus Xiâs knowledge of native drugs.
His notable achievement was to establish as many as 50 opium refuges in four provinces; these also functioned as centers for church planting. One of the largest of these centers was at Hongtong County, thirty miles north of Pingyang. These refuges were run by reformed addicts who had come through his system, first as patients, then as converts, evangelists, and assistant refuge keepers. Churches established as a result of the outreach by opium refuges were made up largely of recovered addicts.
Xi remarked that his Christian life was a very real and constant warfare with the powers of Satan. His battle to develop that most effective evangelistic spearhead, the opium refuge project, met with opposition and difficulties. The only thing he could do was to ignore criticism and resist Satan with spiritual weapons. He relied on the strength of God, rather than his own. At times he became conscious of great fatigue and weakness, and these occasions became the call to much prayer and fasting, for it was in this way that he could know that some immediate, perplexing problem was to be prayed through. Always when he thought the will of God was ascertained, or the problem resolved, the unusual energy which was âusualâ for himâ- and which he considered to be from Godâ-was regained and the work resumed.
Xi also developed a utopian community called Middle Eden, where he worshipped and ministered together with family members, 50 or 60 disciples, and many recovering opium addicts. Many of the hymns used in churches and the opium refuges were composed by Xi. These were published as Xi Shengmo Hymns by the Shanghai Presbyterian Press in 1912.
Xi was an independent, strong-willed man. For the most part, he was respectful in his relationships with the Western missionaries, although some of them fiercely proud themselves noted that he frequently manifested an anti-foreign attitude. Not all agreed with his charismatic emphasis, his desire for control, nor his use of opium refuges as the principal method in his evangelism. Despite character weaknesses of impatience, dogmatism, and authoritarianism, which mellowed with years, he eventually came to exercise a ministry widely described as apostolic. His pastoral gifts leadership were recognized in 1886 when Hudson Taylor ordained him as superintending pastor over a wide area in Shanxi. Three groups of missionariesâ-the seven CIM missionaries known as the Cambridge Seven, CIM single women, and CIM missionaries from Scandinaviaâ-worked under Xiâs direction. This reflected Taylorâs conviction that Western missionaries were merely the âscaffoldingâ in the building of an indigenous Chinese church.
In 1895, Xi planned a conference in his own home village with the purpose of enlarging the refuge work. Two hundred persons were present, and the last sermon that he preached was unusually solemn. At the close of the conference, he decided to visit Mr. Dixon Hoste, who later was to succeed Hudson Taylor as General Director of the China Inland Mission.
In the midst of genial conversation with Hoste, Xi fell to the ground unconscious. He rallied, suffering more from weakness than from pain. Within weeks, signs of a serious heart problem developed. For six months he remained with those who loved him. Xi ceased his labor and entered into everlasting rest on February 19, 1896.
Sources
Taylor, Mrs. Howard, Pastor Hsi: Confucian Scholar and Christian (1900; rev. 1949, 1989).
Austin, Alvyn James, âPilgrims and Strangers: The China Inland Mission in Britain, Canada, the United States and China 1865-1990â (Ph. D. diss., York University, North York, Ontario, 1996).
Broomhall, A. J., Assault on the Nine, Book 6: of Hudson Taylor and Chinaâs Open Century (1988).
Latourette, Kenneth Scott, A History of Christian Missions in China (1966).
About the Author
G. Wright Doyle, Director, Global China Center; English Editor, Biographical Dictionary of Chinese Christianity, Charlottesville, Virginia, USA.
the sluggard in me - four lies that lead to lazy
Come, follow closely, and gaze for a moment upon a rare creature in his native habitat. There he is, drooling upon his pillow an hour before lunchtime, creaking over the bedsprings like a door on its hinges. âHow long will you lie there? When will you arise from your sleep?â his mother shouts from the kitchen. Quiet, now: she has roused him. Here he comes, stumbling into his chair, and begins to feed. âWhatâs wrong with a little sleep, a little slumber?â he mumbles between mouthfuls. A dozen handfuls later, however, he stops, his hand submerged in his cereal like a sunk boat. He breathes heavily, chin against his chest, and begins to snore again. Meet the sluggard (Proverbs 26:14; 6:9â10; 19:24). He is a figure of âtragi-comedy,â Derek Kidner writes ( Proverbs , 39): comedy, because the sluggardâs laziness makes him ludicrous; tragedy, because only sin could so debase a man. The image of God was never meant to yawn through life. Yet those who are paying attention will also see something more in this tragi-comic sloth: themselves. We all have an inner sluggard, counseling us to sleep when we should rise, rest when we should work, eat when we should move. âThe wise man,â Kidner goes on to write, knows that the sluggard is no freak, but, as often as not, an ordinary man who has made too many excuses, too many refusals, and too many postponements. It has all been as imperceptible, and as pleasant, as falling asleep. (40) We donât need to look far, then, to see the sluggard in his native habitat. We only need to hear his âexcuses,â ârefusals,â and âpostponements,â and then listen for their inner echo. âI need just a little more.â A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest. (Proverbs 6:10; 24:33) The words sit in the mouth of the sluggard more than once in Proverbs. They are, perhaps, his motto, his favorite response to the wisdom of the diligent. âEarly to rest, early to rise . . .â they tell him; âA little sleep, a little slumber . . .â he answers. âAn ordinary man becomes a sluggard one small surrender at a time.â Sluggishness often hides beneath that eminently reasonable phrase âjust a little more.â What harm could a little  do? Whatâs one more snooze cycle? Whatâs one more show? Whatâs one more refreshing of the timeline? Not much, in itself: but much indeed when piled atop ten thousand other littles  and one mores . They may seem like âsmall surrendersâ (to use a phrase from Bruce Waltke, Proverbs , 131) â and they are. But an ordinary man becomes a sluggard one small surrender at a time. How do the wise respond? They know that diligent Christians are not a special species of saint. Like the sluggard, the diligent daily face unpleasant tasks. Unlike the sluggard, the diligent speak a different motto: âA little labor, a little energy, a little moving of the hands to work.â Instead of building a stack of small surrenders, they build a stack of small successes â taking little step by little step in the strength that God supplies. Over time, how we handle little  is no little matter. Little drudgeries, little tasks, little opportunities: these are the moments when the sluggard gains ground in our souls, or loses it. âThereâs always tomorrow.â The sluggard does not plow in the autumn; he will seek at harvest and have nothing. (Proverbs 20:4) Often enough, âjust a little moreâ achieves the sluggardâs purpose. But if, for some reason, his conscience should protest, he has another word at his disposal that rarely fails: tomorrow . Autumn was the season for plowing and planting in ancient Israel, and summer the season for harvest. We donât know exactly why the sluggard took it easy while his neighbors plowed their fields. Maybe the difficulty of the task daunted him, or maybe, as the King James Version suggests, the seasonâs chill deterred him: âThe sluggard will not plow by reason of the cold .â Either way, he no doubt fell asleep on many autumn nights warmed by the thought, âThereâs always tomorrowâ â until one day he woke up in winter. When the sluggard finally arrived at his chosen tomorrow , the time for plowing and planting had escaped his grasp. How often have we too discovered that tomorrow is too late? The conversation we should have initiated yesterday proves more awkward today. The essay we should have begun last week overwhelms us this week. The forgiveness we should have sought last month feels harder to seek this month. Autumn has passed, winter has come, and opportunity has slipped through our fingers. The wise learn to take the farmerâs view of life: when the time comes to plow, a farmer pays more attention to the season than to his feelings. And when the time comes to tackle our own difficult tasks, the wise do the same. âI would be putting myself at risk.â There is a lion outside! I shall be killed in the streets! (Proverbs 22:13; see also 26:13) Indulging a bad excuse is a little like feeding a pigeon: give bread to one, and twenty more will soon coo at your feet. Bad excuses breed bad excuses â and even worse excuses over time. And so, when a friend, family member, or boss refuses to entertain the sluggardâs littles  and tomorrows , he takes more radical measures: âHavenât you seen the lion roaming the streets? Iâll die!â Did any sluggard ever attempt such an excuse? Maybe. âLaziness is a great lion-maker,â says Charles Spurgeon. âHe who does little dreams much. His imagination could create not only a lion but a whole menagerie of wild beastsâ (âOne Lion: Two Lions: No Lion at Allâ). For our own purposes, however, we can consider a tamer version of the sluggardâs beast: âI would be putting myself at risk.â To our inner sluggard, a scratch in the throat is cause for a sick day, a little tiredness is reason to nap instead of mow, and a long day at work is justification for skipping small group. After all, our bodies and minds need  the rest, donât they? Care is required here, of course. Some people really do  work their bodies into the dust, forsaking the rest God gives and âeating the bread of anxious toilâ (Psalm 127:2). The sluggard, however, is prone to label as âanxious toilâ any work that meets with inner resistance. He forgets that overcoming such resistance is part of what makes diligence diligence . God made our bodies to bend and strain, our minds to crank and labor, our souls to strive and press. The lion called âLazyâ will counsel us to avoid the strain, but diligence will slay the lion. âWhat do you know about the pressures Iâm under?â The sluggard is wiser in his own eyes than seven men who can answer sensibly. (Proverbs 26:16) Confront a sluggard in his sluggishness, and you may find that he has a penchant for euphemisms. âHe has no idea that he is lazy,â writes Kidner on Proverbs 26:13â16. He is not a shirker but a ârealistâ (13); not self-indulgent but âbelow his best in the morningâ (14); his inertia is âan objection to being hustledâ (15); his mental indolence a fine âsticking to his gunsâ (16). ( Proverbs , 156) Our own sluggishness, then, often appears in our defenses against the charge. Once, as a single man, I told a mentor, âI need more time to myself.â âYou donât need  it,â he responded. Immediately, I raised the drawbridge, manned the ramparts, and launched inward mortars against the attack. What could he, a husband and father of three, possibly know about the pressures I was under? The self-defense is laughable now, but back then, wise in my own eyes, I couldnât accept that much of what I called âalone timeâ was better labeled âsluggishness.â The sluggard sees his own work as the hardest work, his own excuses as the best excuses, his own diversions as the most reasonable diversions â no matter what his friends, wife, or pastor may say. But the wise learn to develop a self-distrustful posture. Rather than responding to requests or challenges with an inward Donât you see my burdens?  they remember their proneness to folly, and learn to call the sluggard by his real name. The Christian and the Sluggard Between the Christian and the sluggard, Spurgeon says, âthere should be as wide a division as between the poles.â Heâs right. âChristianâ and âsluggardâ go together like âhusbandâ and âplayboy,â like âjudgeâ and âthiefâ: the latter destroys the integrity of the former. âIn Christ we find our pattern for work. In Christ we find our power for work. And in Christ the sluggard dies.â And why? Because Christians belong to Jesus Christ, and Jesus Christ was not sluggish. He was no workaholic, of course: he could feast, rest, sleep, and develop deep relationships. But oh did he work. In the Gospels we find not the sluggishness but âthe steadfastness  of Christâ (2 Thessalonians 3:5): the diligence of one who never entertained âjust a little moreâ or âtomorrow,â but worked while it was day (John 9:4). He plowed in the autumn cold of life, forsaking every excuse not to save us. And he never cried âlion!â though he walked into the den (Psalm 22:21). Therefore, the apostle Paul can say to the sluggish, âSuch persons we command and encourage in the Lord Jesus Christ  to do their workâ (2 Thessalonians 3:12). In Christ we find our pattern for work. In Christ we find our power for work. And in Christ the sluggard dies.