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Kingdom Principles Preparing For Kingdom Experience And Expansion Kingdom Principles Preparing For Kingdom Experience And Expansion

Kingdom Principles Preparing For Kingdom Experience And Expansion Order Printed Copy

  • Author: Myles Munroe
  • Size: 936KB | 224 pages
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About the Book


"Kingdom Principles" by Myles Munroe is a guidebook that explores the foundational principles of the Kingdom of God, providing insight on how individuals can prepare themselves to experience the Kingdom and expand its influence in their lives. Munroe emphasizes the importance of understanding and aligning with these principles in order to unlock the full potential of the Kingdom in every aspect of life.

Hudson Taylor

Hudson Taylor "China is not to be won for Christ by quiet, ease-loving men and women … The stamp of men and women we need is such as will put Jesus, China, [and] souls first and foremost in everything and at every time—even life itself must be secondary." In September 1853, a little three-masted clipper slipped quietly out of Liverpool harbor with Hudson Taylor, a gaunt and wild-eyed 21-year-old missionary, aboard. He was headed for a country that was just coming into the Christian West's consciousness; only a few dozen missionaries were stationed there. By the time Taylor died a half-century later, however, China was viewed as the most fertile and challenging of mission fields as thousands volunteered annually to serve there. Radical missionary Taylor was born to James and Amelia Taylor, a Methodist couple fascinated with the Far East who had prayed for their newborn, "Grant that he may work for you in China." Years later, a teenage Hudson experienced a spiritual birth during an intense time of prayer as he lay stretched, as he later put, "before Him with unspeakable awe and unspeakable joy." He spent the next years in frantic preparation, learning the rudiments of medicine, studying Mandarin, and immersing himself ever deeper into the Bible and prayer. His ship arrived in Shanghai, one of five "treaty ports" China had opened to foreigners following its first Opium War with England. Almost immediately Taylor made a radical decision (as least for Protestant missionaries of the day): he decided to dress in Chinese clothes and grow a pigtail (as Chinese men did). His fellow Protestants were either incredulous or critical. Taylor, for his part, was not happy with most missionaries he saw: he believed they were "worldly" and spent too much time with English businessmen and diplomats who needed their services as translators. Instead, Taylor wanted the Christian faith taken to the interior of China. So within months of arriving, and the native language still a challenge, Taylor, along with Joseph Edkins, set off for the interior, setting sail down the Huangpu River distributing Chinese Bibles and tracts. When the Chinese Evangelization Society, which had sponsored Taylor, proved incapable of paying its missionaries in 1857, Taylor resigned and became an independent missionary; trusting God to meet his needs. The same year, he married Maria Dyer, daughter of missionaries stationed in China. He continued to pour himself into his work, and his small church in Ningpo grew to 21 members. But by 1861, he became seriously ill (probably with hepatitis) and was forced to return to England to recover. In England, the restless Taylor continued translating the Bible into Chinese (a work he'd begun in China), studied to become a midwife, and recruited more missionaries. Troubled that people in England seemed to have little interest in China, he wrote China: Its Spiritual Need and Claims. In one passage, he scolded, "Can all the Christians in England sit still with folded arms while these multitudes [in China] are perishing—perishing for lack of knowledge—for lack of that knowledge which England possesses so richly?" Taylor became convinced that a special organization was needed to evangelize the interior of China. He made plans to recruit 24 missionaries: two for each of the 11 unreached inland provinces and two for Mongolia. It was a visionary plan that would have left veteran recruiters breathless: it would increase the number of China missionaries by 25 percent. Taylor himself was wracked with doubt: he worried about sending men and women unprotected into the interior; at the same time, he despaired for the millions of Chinese who were dying without the hope of the gospel. In 1865 he wrote in his diary, "For two or three months, intense conflict … Thought I should lose my mind." A friend invited him to the south coast of England, to Brighton, for a break. And it was there, while walking along the beach, that Taylor's gloom lifted: "There the Lord conquered my unbelief, and I surrendered myself to God for this service. I told him that all responsibility as to the issues and consequences must rest with him; that as his servant it was mine to obey and to follow him." His new mission, which he called the China Inland Mission (CIM), had a number of distinctive features, including this: its missionaries would have no guaranteed salaries nor could they appeal for funds; they would simply trust God to supply their needs; furthermore, its missionaries would adopt Chinese dress and then press the gospel into the China interior. Within a year of his breakthrough, Taylor, his wife and four children, and 16 young missionaries sailed from London to join five others already in China working under Taylor's direction. Strains in the organization Taylor continued to make enormous demands upon himself (he saw more than 200 patients daily when he first returned) and on CIM missionaries, some of whom balked. Lewis Nicol, who accused Taylor of tyranny, had to be dismissed. Some CIM missionaries, in the wake of this and other controversies, left to join other missions, but in 1876, with 52 missionaries, CIM constituted one-fifth of the missionary force in China. Because there continued to be so many Chinese to reach, Taylor instituted another radical policy: he sent unmarried women into the interior, a move criticized by many veterans. But Taylor's boldness knew no bounds. In 1881, he asked God for another 70 missionaries by the close of 1884: he got 76. In late 1886, Taylor prayed for another 100 within a year: by November 1887, he announced 102 candidates had been accepted for service. His leadership style and high ideals created enormous strains between the London and China councils of the CIM. London thought Taylor autocratic; Taylor said he was only doing what he thought was best for the work, and then demanded more commitment from others: "China is not to be won for Christ by quiet, ease-loving men and women," he wrote. "The stamp of men and women we need is such as will put Jesus, China, [and] souls first and foremost in everything and at every time—even life itself must be secondary." Taylor's grueling work pace, both in China and abroad (to England, the United States, and Canada on speaking engagements and to recruit), was carried on despite Taylor's poor health and bouts with depression. In 1900 it became too much, and he had complete physical and mental breakdown. The personal cost of Taylor's vision was high on his family as well: his wife Maria died at age 33, and four of eight of their children died before they reached the age of 10. (Taylor eventually married Jennie Faulding, a CIM missionary.) Between his work ethic and his absolute trust in God (despite never soliciting funds, his CIM grew and prospered), he inspired thousands to forsake the comforts of the West to bring the Christian message to the vast and unknown interior of China. Though mission work in China was interrupted by the communist takeover in 1949, the CIM continues to this day under the name Overseas Missionary Fellowship (International).

to all who feel empty - invitation to the bored and disappointed

It was a small, flesh-colored growth on my cheek. The doctor said it was mild skin cancer and should be removed. But after looking at the biopsy, the hospital’s tumor board recommended a second procedure to remove more skin, to be sure they got it all. That’s when my fear started. What if the cancer has already spread? What if this is more serious than everyone is saying? What if it’s too late? At times like this, it’s tempting to seek comfort in being positive (“It will be okay”), in percentages (“Most of these cancers are nothing”), or in self-pity (“Why is this happening to me?”). But God invites us to a far better comfort: Come, everyone who thirsts,      come to the waters; and he who has no money,      come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk.      without money and without price. Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,      and your labor for that which does not satisfy? Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,      and delight yourselves in rich food. Incline your ear, and come to me;      hear, that your soul may live; and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,      my steadfast, sure love for David. (Isaiah 55:1–3) This invitation is for everyone who is emotionally thirsty and hungry, longing for peace and joy. It’s for everyone who feels bored, insecure, jealous, frustrated, impatient, disappointed, fearful. Fearful . That described me. So, God’s invitation was  for me . “God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us himself.” And what does this invitation promise? God promises to satisfy and delight our hearts (Isaiah 55:2) with wine and milk and rich food (Isaiah 55:1). How does he do this? Not by giving us earthly comforts, since at best those give temporary, partial satisfaction. No: God satisfies us fully and lastingly by giving us  himself . We can see this by comparing the beginning of the passage, where God says, “Come to  the waters ,” with the end, where he says, “Come to  me .” What God gives us is  himself . Sit and Eat The prophet Hosea puts it this way: “Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord; his going out is sure as the dawn; he will come to us as the showers, as the spring rains that water the earth” (Hosea 6:3). We are dry, parched land, in need of rain. And God promises that when we press on to know him,  he himself  will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence. And he says this promise is as certain as the sun rising tomorrow. So, when we are emotionally hungry and thirsty, it’s like God is inviting us to a banquet table piled high with sizzling chicken fajitas and hot, cheesy lasagna and apple pie à la mode and fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies and water and wine and milk. All we need to do is come, sit down, and eat. But if that’s true, then why are we ever emotionally hungry and thirsty? Why do we get bored, or jealous, or bitter, or insecure? And why was I feeling such fear? Why Such Fear? We often blame our circumstances. We think we lack joy and peace because we didn’t get the promotion, or because our children aren’t behaving, or because we’re stuck in traffic, or in my case, because I have skin cancer. But God says there’s a deeper reason. It’s that we’ve ignored his invitation, and taken our hunger to what is not bread (Isaiah 55:2). We’ve turned from God’s table to the world’s table, which at best has an occasional rotten, mushy banana, a day-old bowl of half-eaten oatmeal, or a glass of murky water. That’s why I was fearful. I was ignoring God’s table, with its unshakable promises of everlasting joy, and was trusting the world’s table, whose promises were being threatened by skin cancer. And that’s why we are: Bored:  We are ignoring God’s table and looking for something exciting at the world’s table. But nothing looks promising. Grumpy:  We were hoping something on the world’s table would satisfy us, but when we sat down, it ended up being a dry, half-eaten cracker. Disappointed:  We’ve been trusting that something on the world’s table will satisfy us, but either it was taken away, or it didn’t end up being what we hoped for. Jealous:  We’re sitting at the world’s table but are not satisfied with what we’ve been served, and we think that what someone else was served would make us happier. Whenever we feel emotional hunger and thirst, we do well to ask if we’ve moved from God’s guaranteed, all-satisfying table to the world’s uncertain, disappointing table. Buy Without Money But turning from God’s table not only leaves us hungry and thirsty. It also makes us guilty before God, because eating from the world’s table is sin. And sin requires a payment of punishment, which is why God says his food must be bought (Isaiah 55:1). But God also says that we have no money (Isaiah 55:1), because we can’t make up for our sin by being good enough. “When we press on to know God, he himself will come to us with the refreshing rain of his presence.” So, if we are going to enjoy God’s table, someone else must make the payment. And two chapters earlier we read that this is what the Messiah would do: “He was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities” (Isaiah 53:5). Though we have no money, we can buy this food by trusting Jesus, who pays the penalty of our punishment by dying on the cross. God has given us the invitation, and he has paid the price. So, how do we get up from the world’s table and enjoy God’s table? Come to the Table Here are the steps God used to help me. First, I confessed my sin to God — that I had turned from his table to the world’s table, and I was fearful because the world’s promise of earthly comforts and long life was threatened by my skin cancer (1 John 1:9). Second, I admitted to God that I could not pay for my sins, and I thanked and praised him that Jesus fully paid for them on the cross (1 Peter 3:18). Third, I asked God to help me taste and experience how superior his banquet is to the world’s table (Psalm 43:3–4). Fourth, I set my heart on a few Scriptures that describe God’s banquet (John 8:31–32): Pleasure in him now and forever (Psalm 16:11). Joy unspeakable and full of glory (1 Peter 1:8). Life in Christ now, and gain when I die (Philippians 1:21). A heavenly, eternal dwelling made by God himself (2 Corinthians 5:1–4). Fifth, I prayed over these Scriptures, asking God to help me feel their reality and glory, until I experienced the Spirit changing and satisfying my heart (John 6:35). And that’s what he did. Over the next twenty minutes, I felt my faith strengthen and my fear disappear, as God used his word to give me a taste of his all-satisfying glory, which nothing, not even death, can threaten. Are you sitting at the world’s table, hungry and disappointed? If so, God is inviting you to his piled-high banquet table. He’s paid for the ticket, and is holding a seat for you.  Enjoy the feast.

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