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About the Book
"The 4 Wills of God" by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs discusses how understanding and aligning with God's will can bring purpose, fulfillment, and peace to our lives. The book outlines God's will for salvation, submission, spirit-filled living, and suffering. Eggerichs emphasizes the importance of seeking God's will in all areas of our lives and how doing so can lead to a deeper relationship with Him.
Susannah Wesley
If a passing stranger walking through the rural village of Epworth, England, on any given day between 1700 and 1720 had peered through the window of the home of the rector of the local Anglican church, he might have caught sight of something quite strange. Depending on the time of day, this observer might have seen a woman sitting in a chair with her kitchen apron pulled up over her head while ten children read, studied, or played all around her.
Two of those ten children would have been little boys â John and Charles â who would grow up to shape the course of Christian history and thus change the world. The woman under the apron would have been Susanna Wesley, who assumed this odd posture for two hours almost every day. In a moment you will understand why.
Susanna understood the dynamics of large families. Born the twenty-fifth of twenty-five children in 1669, Susanna Annesley grew up the daughter of a prominent, highly educated minister in cosmopolitan London. She had little formal education, but growing up in an academic household with so many older siblings left her well-read and well-rounded intellectually. She met Samuel Wesley, an aspiring Anglican minister, and married him in 1688, when she was nineteen years old.
Susannaâs remaining fifty-three years were far from easy ones. They were characterized by loss, hardship, and struggle. Yet she became a woman of immense legacy, largely through the dual virtues of organization and prayer.
Susanna delivered nineteen children, but nine â including two sets of twins â died in infancy. Another was accidentally smothered in the night by a nurse as Susanna recovered from labor and delivery.
Her husband, Samuel, did not succeed in his thirty-nine-year assignment as rector of the church at Epworth. An intellectual academic, he simply did not understand or identify with the rural villagers in his parish. Nor did they care for him. When he involved himself from the pulpit in a highly divisive political matter inflaming the entire nation in that era, he earned the hatred of a vast segment of the populace. On two occasions the Wesleysâ parsonage burned down, most likely because of arson on the part of Epworthâs embittered parishioners. Susanna and the children were seldom spared harassment and insults.
Samuel was not good with money, and he once spent several months in debtorsâ prison. The parsonage came with a small farm, but Samuel was uninterested in and ill-suited for farm work, so this too was left for Susanna to manage. This was in addition to the huge task of homeschooling all of the children, with their varying ages and gifts.
For decades, Samuel expended all of his energies and most of the familyâs meager wealth working on an exegetical treatise on the book of Job. The sad irony is that while he was away for long periods of time studying and writing about Jobâs intense sufferings, his living, breathing wife was enduring real pain and hardship, largely on her own.
Susannaâs household organizational skills are the stuff of legend. She knew from personal experience that quality one-on-one time with a parent is hard to come by in a family with many children, yet powerfully important. So she set a rotating schedule through which each of her children spent an hour with her alone before bedtime on a designated night each week.
What is more, she somehow found a way to manage the household and give her large brood of children a world-class education that included both classical and biblical learning. Her girls got the same rigorous education as did her boys, something virtually unheard of in that day. Traditionally, girls of that place and time were taught âfeminineâ skills such as needlework and music before undertaking the most basic education, such as learning to read. Susanna firmly believed this was wrong-headed. Her girls were taught the same curriculum as her boys. Among the âbylawsâ by which she ran her home school was this: â8. That no girl be taught to work till she can read very well; and then that she be kept to her work with the same application, and for the same time, that she was held to in reading. This rule also is much to be observed; for the putting of children to learn sewing before they can read perfectly, is the very reason why so few women can read fit to be heard, and never to be well understood.â1
School hours were from 9:00 a.m. to noon and then 2:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m., six days a week. All but the smallest children completed their assigned chores promptly before the start of the school day. As in many one-room schoolhouses in generations past, older children helped teach the younger.
No Excuse for Not Praying!
Susanna took her relationship to God as seriously as she did her duties as a wife and mother.
Early in her life, she vowed that she would never spend more time in leisure entertainment than she did in prayer and Bible study. Even amid the most complex and busy years of her life as a mother, she still scheduled two hours each day for fellowship with God and time in His Word, and she adhered to that schedule faithfully. The challenge was finding a place of privacy in a house filled to overflowing with children.
Mother Wesleyâs solution to this was to bring her Bible to her favorite chair and throw her long apron up over her head, forming a sort of tent. This became something akin to the âtent of meeting,â the tabernacle in the days of Moses in the Old Testament. Every person in the household, from the smallest toddler to the oldest domestic helpers, knew well to respect this signal. When Susanna was under the apron, she was with God and was not to be disturbed except in the case of the direst emergency. There in the privacy of her little tent, she interceded for her husband and children and plumbed the deep mysteries of God in the Scriptures. This holy discipline equipped her with a thorough and profound knowledge of the Bible.
Prayer Leads to Teaching
When husband Samuel was away, as was often the case, a substitute minister brought the Sunday morning sermon at the church. Susanna found these messages uninspiring and lacking in spiritual meat. She had a good-sized congregation of her own at home, so she began teaching them the Bible in her kitchen on Sunday afternoons. Soon neighbors began asking if they could attend. Word circulated and others from the area began asking permission to attend as well. So thorough was Susannaâs knowledge of the Bible, and so gifted was she at communicating its truths, that on any given Sunday after church, Susanna would have as many as two hundred people in attendance at her informal family Bible study, which started in her home but soon moved to a larger venue.
Susanna passed away in 1742 at the age of seventy-three, living long enough to see her sons John and Charles become world-renowned leaders of the global Christian movement. This is her legacy, forged in large part in those diligent hours of intercession under that makeshift apron tent.
The Lasting Legacy of Prayer
John Wesley is estimated to have preached to nearly a million people in his long, fruitful life.
His powerful, evangelistic services were frequently held in the open air to accommodate audiences in the tens of thousands. Traveling on horseback, he regularly preached three or more times a day, often beginning before daybreak. Even at the age of seventy he preached, without the assistance of modern amplification, to an estimated throng of thirty-two thousand people.
It is hard to overstate John Wesleyâs theological impact. He remains the dominant theological influence on Methodists and Methodist-heritage groups the world over, including the United Methodist Church, the Methodist Church of Great Britain, and the African Methodist Episcopal Church, all of which played a pivotal role in the abolitionist movement of the nineteenth century.
Wesleyan theology also formed the foundation for the holiness movement in the United States, which includes denominations like the Wesleyan Church, the Free Methodist Church, the Church of the Nazarene, the Christian and Missionary Alliance, the Church of God (Anderson, Indiana), and other groups which compose the colorful mosaic of Pentecostalism and the charismatic movement in North America.
As prolific a writer as he was busy as a preacher, John Wesley has been called the Father of the Religious Paperback. His published sermons, tracts, pamphlets, and booklets number roughly five thousand items. In addition to theology, Wesley wrote about music, marriage, medicine, science, abolitionism, and current events.
Although John married, he and his wife, Mary, had no children. Because of his giving nature toward the poor, the oppressed, and the unevangelized, he left little of material wealth behind when he died in 1791 at the age of eighty-seven. One biographer said John Wesley âwas carried to his grave by six poor men âleaving behind him nothing but a good library of books, a well-worn clergymanâs gown⌠and â the Methodist Church.ââ2 The same writer observed that Johnâs impact was so profound that he in effect âsupplied a new starting-point to modern religious history.â3
Johnâs younger brother Charles was very much a partner in and vital contributor to these accomplishments. A brilliant musician and lyricist, he wrote more than 6,600 hymns, many of which are still in hymnals the world over today.
Charles and his wife, Sarah, had three children who survived infancy, including two boys, Samuel and Charles Jr., who were musical prodigies. Charles Jr. grew up to serve as the personal organist of the English royal family. His brother, Samuel Sebastian Wesley, became one of the most accomplished British composers of the nineteenth century. A contemporary of Mozart, Samuel is sometimes called âThe English Mozart.â4
John and Charles Wesley were passionate lovers of God and powerful persuaders of people.
As a result, the brothers were viewed by many of their contemporaries as religious fanatics. History has been far kinder in its verdict. It views them as world changers. And every one of the changes they wrought is part of the legacy of Susanna Wesley. In his 1864 biography, John Kirk wrote of Susanna, âHer name has been everywhere received with respect; and by a large and influential Christian Community it has been cherished with strongest affection. Her success in the education of her children has been the theme of universal admiration; and no one has yet ventured to hazard even a conjecture as to how much the cause of religion and the well-being of the human race are indebted to her steady piety and extraordinary talents.â5
We hope that as you read [the story of] Susanna Wesley, youâll grab on to the power of them. For Susanna Wesley, there was no amount of distraction that could keep her from prayer and the Bible. That kind of life, deeply rooted, produced great fruit, as evidenced not only by the people who came to hear her teach but also by the children she influenced. The great truth in her story is how prayer does not occupy the stage of activity. Its power is in the quiet trust of gentle souls who are willing to pull away from the everyday to commune with God.
John Wesley, The Heart of Wesleyâs Journal, ed. Ed Hughes and Hugh Price (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2008), 127.
William Henry Fitchett, Wesley and His Century: A Study in Spiritual Forces (London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1906), 1.
Ibid.
Peter Matthews, Whoâs Buried Where in London (London: â¨Bloomsbury, 2017), 37.
John Kirk, The Mother of the Wesleys: A Biography (Ambler, MA: â¨Tresidder, 1864), vii.
Excerpted with permission from Only One Life by Jackie Green and Lauren Green McAfee, copyright Jackie Green, Lauren Green McAfee, Bill High.
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.