The Law Of Recognition (The Laws Of Life Series) Order Printed Copy
- Author: Mike Murdoch
- Size: 1.54MB | 222 pages
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About the Book
"The Law of Recognition" by Mike Murdoch explores the principle that what we recognize and honor in life will be attracted to us. The book emphasizes the importance of recognizing the value and potential in ourselves and others, as well as the power of gratitude and praise. Through real-life stories and practical advice, Murdoch encourages readers to develop a mindset of recognition in order to achieve success and fulfillment in all areas of life.
Martyn Lloyd-Jones
David Martyn Lloyd-Jones (20 December 1899 – 1 March 1981) was a Welsh Protestant minister, preacher and medical doctor who was influential in the Reformed wing of the British evangelical movement in the 20th century. For almost 30 years, he was the minister of Westminster Chapel in London.
Early Life and ministry
Lloyd-Jones was born in Cardiff and raised in Llangeitho, Ceredigion. His father was a grocer, and he had two brothers: Harold died during the 1918 flu pandemic, while Vincent went on to become a High Court judge. Llangeitho is associated with the Welsh Methodist revival, as it was the location of Daniel Rowland's ministry. Attending a London grammar school between 1914 and 1917 and then St Bartholomew's Hospital as a medical student, in 1921 he started work as assistant to the Royal Physician, Sir Thomas Horder. Lloyd-Jones obtained an MD from London University, and became a Member of the Royal College of Physicians. After struggling for two years over what he sensed was a calling to preach, in 1927 Lloyd-Jones returned to Wales, having married Bethan Phillips (with whom he later had two children, Elizabeth and Ann), accepting an invitation to minister at a church in Aberavon (Port Talbot).
Westminster Chapel
After a decade ministering in Aberavon, in 1939 he went back to London, where he had been appointed as associate pastor of Westminster Chapel, working alongside G. Campbell Morgan. The day before he was officially to be accepted into his new position, World War II broke out in Europe. During the same year, he became the president of the Inter-Varsity Fellowship of Students (known today as the Universities and Colleges Christian Fellowship (UK)). During the war he and his family moved to Haslemere, Surrey. In 1943 Morgan retired, leaving Lloyd-Jones as the sole Pastor of Westminster Chapel.
Lloyd-Jones was well known for his style of expository preaching, and the Sunday morning and evening meetings at which he officiated drew crowds of several thousand, as did the Friday evening Bible studies, which were, in effect, sermons in the same style. He would take many months, even years, to expound a chapter of the Bible verse by verse. His sermons would often be around fifty minutes to an hour in length, attracting many students from universities and colleges in London. His sermons were also transcribed and printed (virtually verbatim) in the weekly Westminster Record, which was read avidly by those who enjoyed his preaching.
Later life
Lloyd-Jones retired from his ministry at Westminster Chapel in 1968, following a major operation. For the rest of his life, he concentrated on editing his sermons to be published, counselling other ministers, answering letters and attending conferences. Perhaps his most famous publication is a 14 volume series of commentaries on the Epistle to the Romans, the first volume of which was published in 1970.
Despite spending most of his life living and ministering in England, Lloyd-Jones was proud of his roots in Wales. He best expressed his concern for his home country through his support of the Evangelical Movement of Wales: he was a regular speaker at their conferences, preaching in both English and Welsh. Since his death, the movement has published various books, in English and Welsh, bringing together selections of his sermons and articles.
Lloyd-Jones preached for the last time on 8 June 1980 at Barcombe Baptist Chapel. After a lifetime of work, he died peacefully in his sleep at Ealing on 1 March 1981, St David's Day. He was buried at Newcastle Emlyn, near Cardigan, west Wales. A well-attended thanksgiving service was held at Westminster Chapel on 6 April.
Since his death, there have been various publications regarding Lloyd-Jones and his work, most popularly a biography in two volumes by Iain Murray
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, David’s son Absalom has exploited his father’s 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). “Prayer is for turning the tide, for changing the seeming course of history.” 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 — whose counsel “was as if one consulted the word of God” (2 Samuel 16:23) — 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 Ahithophel’s 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 it’s certainly not for advising God as to how things should go, as if he needed a counselor (Romans 11:33–34). Rather, prayer is for turning the tide, for changing the seeming course of history. Prayer is for desperate times and dire moments, when we’re backed in a corner — 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 Ahithophel’s 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 “defeat for me the counsel of Ahithophel” (2 Samuel 15:34). “Prayer is for desperate times and dire moments, when we’re backed in a corner.” Hushai goes, and like Ahithophel, is received into Absalom’s conspiracy. One of the first orders of business is whether to chase David down and overtake him as he retreats. Ahithophel speaks first: “Pursue David tonight . . . while he is weary and discouraged” (2 Samuel 17:1–2). Per normal, this is wise counsel. “And the advice seemed right in the eyes of Absalom and all the elders of Israel” (2 Samuel 17:4). The great sage has spoken, and this looks like a done deal. And such will spell the end of David — were it not for Hushai, who then speaks. “This time the counsel that Ahithophel has given is not good,” 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, “The counsel of Hushai the Archite is better than the counsel of Ahithophel.” 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, “For the Lord had ordained to defeat the good counsel of Ahithophel, so that the Lord might bring harm upon Absalom.” No one could have seen this coming. Even David did not at the time of his prayer. Hushai’s 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 David’s prayer. Or did he? Remember how the king had prayed: “O Lord, please turn the counsel of Ahithophel into foolishness” (2 Samuel 15:31). God had not answered that prayer. In fact, 2 Samuel 17:14 confirms that Ahithophel had given “good counsel.” Yet we find no lament from David that God didn’t 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 didn’t 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 — and that in a way no scriptwriter could have guessed. Our prayers deal with the what; God’s 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 father’s joy to surprise his children with the means, if not with the end. “Our God delights to free us from being the author of our own stories of salvation.” 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 we’ve asked. Which, alongside his Father’s heart (Luke 11:11–12) and the gift of his Spirit (Romans 8:26–27), 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. “Your Father knows” (Luke 12:30). We do not. “We do not know what to pray for as we ought” (Romans 8:26). His judgments are unsearchable; his ways, inscrutable (Romans 11:33) — which is all the more reason to ask him. Already Answered When Paul celebrates “him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (Ephesians 3:20), he is no mindless optimist. He’s not asking us to groundlessly expect “the best is yet to come” 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 — and though we often don’t know precisely how to pray, we do know that our Father loves to hear our requests, and outdo them. Article by David Mathis