Others like how to know the will of god Features >>
Following The Faith Of Abraham
How To Know The Will Of God
What Is The Fear Of The Lord
How You Can Know The Will Of God
How To Stay In Your High Calling
How To Tap Into The Glory Of God
Holding To The Word Of The Lord
One In A Million - Journey To Your Promised Land
Putting On The Mind Of Christ
Following The Path Of The Eagle
About the Book
"How to Know the Will of God" by John Edmiston is a practical guide to understanding and discerning God's will for your life. The book covers key concepts such as hearing God's voice, interpreting signs and symbols, and seeking guidance through prayer and scripture. It emphasizes the importance of aligning your desires with God's plan and offers practical strategies for making decisions that are in line with His will.
St. Patrick
St. Patrick, (flourished 5th century, Britain and Ireland; feast day March 17), patron saint and national apostle of Ireland, credited with bringing Christianity to Ireland and probably responsible in part for the Christianization of the Picts and Anglo-Saxons. He is known only from two short works, the Confessio, a spiritual autobiography, and his Letter to Coroticus, a denunciation of British mistreatment of Irish Christians.
Patrick was born in Britain of a Romanized family. At age 16 he was torn by Irish raiders from the villa of his father, Calpurnius, a deacon and minor local official, and carried into slavery in Ireland. He spent six bleak years there as a herdsman, during which he turned with fervour to his faith. Upon dreaming that the ship in which he was to escape was ready, he fled his master and found passage to Britain. There he came near to starvation and suffered a second brief captivity before he was reunited with his family. Thereafter, he may have paid a short visit to the Continent.
The best known passage in the Confessio tells of a dream, after his return to Britain, in which one Victoricus delivered him a letter headed âThe Voice of the Irish.â As he read it, he seemed to hear a certain company of Irish beseeching him to walk once more among them. âDeeply moved,â he says, âI could read no more.â Nevertheless, because of the shortcomings of his education, he was reluctant for a long time to respond to the call. Even on the eve of reembarkation for Ireland he was beset by doubts of his fitness for the task. Once in the field, however, his hesitations vanished. Utterly confident in the Lord, he journeyed far and wide, baptizing and confirming with untiring zeal. In diplomatic fashion he brought gifts to a kinglet here and a lawgiver there but accepted none from any. On at least one occasion, he was cast into chains. On another, he addressed with lyrical pathos a last farewell to his converts who had been slain or kidnapped by the soldiers of Coroticus.
Careful to deal fairly with the non-Christian Irish, he nevertheless lived in constant danger of martyrdom. The evocation of such incidents of what he called his âlaborious episcopateâ was his reply to a charge, to his great grief endorsed by his ecclesiastical superiors in Britain, that he had originally sought office for the sake of office. In point of fact, he was a most humble-minded man, pouring forth a continuous paean of thanks to his Maker for having chosen him as the instrument whereby multitudes who had worshipped âidols and unclean thingsâ had become âthe people of God.â
The phenomenal success of Patrickâs mission is not, however, the full measure of his personality. Since his writings have come to be better understood, it is increasingly recognized that, despite their occasional incoherence, they mirror a truth and a simplicity of the rarest quality. Not since St. Augustine of Hippo had any religious diarist bared his inmost soul as Patrick did in his writings. As D.A. Binchy, the most austerely critical of Patrician (i.e., of Patrick) scholars, put it, âThe moral and spiritual greatness of the man shines through every stumbling sentence of his ârusticâ Latin.â
It is not possible to say with any assurance when Patrick was born. There are, however, a number of pointers to his missionary career having lain within the second half of the 5th century. In the Coroticus letter, his mention of the Franks as still âheathenâ indicates that the letter must have been written between 451, the date generally accepted as that of the Franksâ irruption into Gaul as far as the Somme River, and 496, when they were baptized en masse. Patrick, who speaks of himself as having evangelized heathen Ireland, is not to be confused with Palladius, sent by Pope Celestine I in 431 as âfirst bishop to the Irish believers in Christ.â
Toward the end of his life, he retired to Saul, where he may have written his Confessio. It is said that an angel conveyed to him that he was to die at Saul, the site of his first church, despite his wishes to die within the ecclesiastical metropolis of Ireland. His last rites were administered by St. Tussach (also spelled Tassach or Tassac).
Legends
Before the end of the 7th century, Patrick had become a legendary figure, and the legends have continued to grow. One of these would have it that he drove the snakes of Ireland into the sea to their destruction. Patrick himself wrote that he raised people from the dead, and a 12th-century hagiography places this number at 33 men, some of whom are said to have been deceased for many years. He also reportedly prayed for the provision of food for hungry sailors traveling by land through a desolate area, and a herd of swine miraculously appeared.
Another legend, probably the most popular, is that of the shamrock, which has him explain the concept of the Holy Trinity, three persons in one God, to an unbeliever by showing him the three-leaved plant with one stalk. Traditionally, Irishmen have worn shamrocks, the national flower of Ireland, in their lapels on St. Patrickâs Day, March 17.
God Answers Better Than We Ask
A godly king, backed into a deadly corner, teaches us a liberating truth about prayer. In one of the great tragedies in all of Scripture, Davidâs son Absalom has exploited his fatherâs love and conspired against him. Now the rebellion has grown strong, and David is left with no option but to flee Jerusalem in hopes of living to fight another day (2 Samuel 15:14). âPrayer is for turning the tide, for changing the seeming course of history.â As he retreats, weeping as he goes, barefoot, with his head covered in shame, it gets worse. He learns that his most prized advisor, Ahithophel â whose counsel âwas as if one consulted the word of Godâ (2 Samuel 16:23) â has joined Absalom (2 Samuel 15:12). Yet in this most desperate of moments, when David could have crumbled, or wallowed in self-pity, his reflex is Godward. He breathes up a prayer: O Lord, please turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness. (2 Samuel 15:31) Unlikely Plea Admittedly, the prayer seems utterly unlikely, if not impossible, humanly speaking. None was wiser than Ahithophel. One might as well ask for the sun to stand still as to pray for Ahithophelâs wise counsel to turn into folly. Yet these are the very moments for which God has given us prayer. He opens his ear to his people. Not for calling down more comforts for an already cushy existence, but precisely for the times when life and death are at stake. Prayer is not an exercise in naming ahead of time what already seems to be the natural course of action. Prayer is not for making an educated guess out loud to God about what seems to be unfolding already. And itâs certainly not for advising God as to how things should go, as if he needed a counselor (Romans 11:33â34). Rather, prayer is for turning the tide, for changing the seeming course of history. Prayer is for desperate times and dire moments, when weâre backed in a corner â when humanly speaking, the desired outcome, and what seems to be our last chance, is painfully unlikely to unfold, and we need God. We need him to intervene. Without the interruptive fingers of Providence reaching down into the details to disturb what seems to be, from our vantage, the natural course of action, we are doomed. But if he is God, and if he is listening, and if he acts, then we have a fighting chance. Cause and effect do not carry the day. God does. So, David prays. God Does the Unthinkable No sooner has David prayed than Hushai the Archite, who is loyal to David, meets him with torn coat and dirt on his head in mourning (2 Samuel 15:32). David has prayed for Ahithophelâs counsel to turn sour, but now David also acts in faith. He sends Hushai to feign fealty to Absalom, serve as a spy, and perhaps even âdefeat for me the counsel of Ahithophelâ (2 Samuel 15:34). âPrayer is for desperate times and dire moments, when weâre backed in a corner.â Hushai goes, and like Ahithophel, is received into Absalomâs conspiracy. One of the first orders of business is whether to chase David down and overtake him as he retreats. Ahithophel speaks first: âPursue David tonight . . . while he is weary and discouragedâ (2 Samuel 17:1â2). Per normal, this is wise counsel. âAnd the advice seemed right in the eyes of Absalom and all the elders of Israelâ (2 Samuel 17:4). The great sage has spoken, and this looks like a done deal. And such will spell the end of David â were it not for Hushai, who then speaks. âThis time the counsel that Ahithophel has given is not good,â says the mole (2 Samuel 17:7). He then paints David not as the weak and discouraged man that he is, but as mighty, enraged, and expert in war. And God does the unthinkable: he turns the hearts of Absalom and all the men of Israel to say, âThe counsel of Hushai the Archite is better than the counsel of Ahithophel.â What? This is a stunning turn of events. An impossibility, apart from God. Only God himself can turn the hearts like this. And so, 2 Samuel 17:14 adds the explanation, âFor the Lord had ordained to defeat the good counsel of Ahithophel, so that the Lord might bring harm upon Absalom.â No one could have seen this coming. Even David did not at the time of his prayer. Hushaiâs deceptive word carries the day, the dominoes begin to fall, and it soon means the end of Absalom, and salvation for David. He Answers Better Than We Ask So, God answered Davidâs prayer. Or did he? Remember how the king had prayed: âO Lord, please turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishnessâ (2 Samuel 15:31). God had not answered that prayer. In fact, 2 Samuel 17:14 confirms that Ahithophel had given âgood counsel.â Yet we find no lament from David that God didnât answer his prayer. No complaints that the Lord hid his face, or that his ears were stopped, or that he could not see. No mourning. No frustration. No wallowing. David prayed one seemingly impossible prayer, took a modest step in faith, and trusted God to work salvation for him. And David had no sour grapes that God didnât answer his prayer precisely as he asked. In fact, David delighted to pray to, and to praise, a God who makes a habit of answering better than we ask. No Scriptwriter Could Guess In his commentary on 2 Samuel, Dale Ralph Davis observes, No sooner does [David] pray than Yahweh begins to answer his prayer â and that in a way no scriptwriter could have guessed. Our prayers deal with the what; Godâs answers deal with the what and the how and the when. And how the how can surprise us! (160) Our God delights to free us from being the author of our own stories of salvation. When we pray, it is not our job to foresee how God might bring out the rescue and lay out the details for him, even as often as it is our instinct to do precisely this. Most of us fathers would be a little annoyed, if not greatly, if our children not only asked for things but also insisted on laying out exactly how we should go about fulfilling their request. It is a fatherâs joy to surprise his children with the means, if not with the end. âOur God delights to free us from being the author of our own stories of salvation.â Fortunately, even as we try to counsel him, our Father in heaven is patient. He endures our folly. And he also wants to free us from feeling we need to give him directions. Not only can we not give him directions, but we can trust that his heart is far greater for the holy outcomes we want than our hearts are. And his ways of answering our prayers, according to his good pleasure, are more stunning than we can dream. He loves to answer better than we ask. Not Precisely but Substantially For those who have walked with this God for even a modest measure of time, we have seen him answer far better than weâve asked. Which, alongside his Fatherâs heart (Luke 11:11â12) and the gift of his Spirit (Romans 8:26â27), gives us great incentive to pray, and keep praying. In other words, our human instincts, our ignorance, and our inability to counsel him are no disincentives to pray, but rather good reason to keep asking of him who knows how to give better than we know to ask. He knows. âYour Father knowsâ (Luke 12:30). We do not. âWe do not know what to pray for as we oughtâ (Romans 8:26). His judgments are unsearchable; his ways, inscrutable (Romans 11:33) â which is all the more reason to ask him. Already Answered When Paul celebrates âhim who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or thinkâ (Ephesians 3:20), he is no mindless optimist. Heâs not asking us to groundlessly expect âthe best is yet to comeâ without solid proof in the past and present. And Paul has provided it, rooting his doxology in the gospel he just rehearsed. We were dead in sins, and God made us alive together with Christ. We were separated and alienated, without hope, and God brought us near by the blood of Christ. In the gospel, our God has already answered better than we could have asked. Christ came, he died, he rose â and though we often donât know precisely how to pray, we do know that our Father loves to hear our requests, and outdo them. Article by David Mathis