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Exceptional piece. Highly recommended!

- margaret awortwe-bartels (2 years ago)

Exceptional piece. Highly recommended!

- margaret awortwe-bartels (2 years ago)

Exceptional piece. Highly recommended!

- margaret awortwe-bartels (2 years ago)

About the Book


"The Power of Thank You" by Joyce Meyer explores the transformative impact of expressing gratitude in our everyday lives. Meyer delves into the benefits of cultivating a thankful attitude, fostering stronger relationships, and experiencing greater joy and fulfillment. Through personal anecdotes and biblical teachings, she emphasizes the importance of appreciation and encourages readers to harness the power of thankfulness in all areas of life.

John Wesley

John Wesley John Wesley, (born June 17, 1703, Epworth, Lincolnshire, England—died March 2, 1791, London), Anglican clergyman, evangelist, and founder, with his brother Charles, of the Methodist movement in the Church of England. John Wesley was the second son of Samuel, a former Nonconformist (dissenter from the Church of England) and rector at Epworth, and Susanna Wesley. After six years of education at the Charterhouse, London, he entered Christ Church, Oxford University, in 1720. Graduating in 1724, he resolved to become ordained a priest; in 1725 he was made a deacon by the bishop of Oxford and the following year was elected a fellow of Lincoln College. After assisting his father at Epworth and Wroot, he was ordained a priest on September 22, 1728. Recalled to Oxford in October 1729 to fulfill the residential requirements of his fellowship, John joined his brother Charles, Robert Kirkham, and William Morgan in a religious study group that was derisively called the “Methodists” because of their emphasis on methodical study and devotion. Taking over the leadership of the group from Charles, John helped the group to grow in numbers. The “Methodists,” also called the Holy Club, were known for their frequent communion services and for fasting two days a week. From 1730 on, the group added social services to their activities, visiting Oxford prisoners, teaching them to read, paying their debts, and attempting to find employment for them. The Methodists also extended their activities to workhouses and poor people, distributing food, clothes, medicine, and books and also running a school. When the Wesleys left the Holy Club in 1735, the group disintegrated. Following his father’s death in April 1735, John was persuaded by an Oxford friend, John Burton, and Col. James Oglethorpe, governor of the colony of Georgia in North America, to oversee the spiritual lives of the colonists and to missionize the Native Americans as an agent for the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Accompanied by Charles, who was ordained for this mission, John was introduced to some Moravian emigrants who appeared to him to possess the spiritual peace for which he had been searching. The mission to the indigenous peoples proved abortive, nor did Wesley succeed with most of his flock. He served them faithfully, but his stiff high churchmanship antagonized them. He had a naive attachment to Sophia Hopkey, niece of the chief magistrate of Savannah, who married another man, and Wesley unwisely courted criticism by repelling her from Holy Communion. In December 1737 he fled from Georgia; misunderstandings and persecution stemming from the Sophia Hopkey episode forced him to go back to England. In London John met a Moravian, Peter Böhler, who convinced him that what he needed was simply faith, and he also discovered Martin Luther’s commentary on the Letter of Paul to the Galatians, which emphasized the scriptural doctrine of justification by grace through faith alone. On May 24, 1738, in Aldersgate Street, London, during a meeting composed largely of Moravians under the auspices of the Church of England, Wesley’s intellectual conviction was transformed into a personal experience while Luther’s preface to the commentary to the Letter of Paul to the Romans was being read. From this point onward, at the age of 35, Wesley viewed his mission in life as one of proclaiming the good news of salvation by faith, which he did whenever a pulpit was offered him. The congregations of the Church of England, however, soon closed their doors to him because of his enthusiasm. He then went to religious societies, trying to inject new spiritual vigour into them, particularly by introducing “bands” similar to those of the Moravians—i.e., small groups within each society that were confined to members of the same sex and marital status who were prepared to share intimate details of their lives with each other and to receive mutual rebukes. For such groups Wesley drew up Rules of the Band Societies in December 1738. For a year he worked through existing church societies, but resistance to his methods increased. In 1739 George Whitefield, who later became an important preacher of the Great Awakening in Great Britain and North America, persuaded Wesley to go to the unchurched masses. Wesley gathered converts into societies for continuing fellowship and spiritual growth, and he was asked by a London group to become their leader. Soon other such groups were formed in London, Bristol, and elsewhere. To avoid the scandal of unworthy members, Wesley published, in 1743, Rules for the Methodist societies. To promote new societies he became a widely travelled itinerant preacher. Because most ordained clergymen did not favour his approach, Wesley was compelled to seek the services of dedicated laymen, who also became itinerant preachers and helped administer the Methodist societies. Many of Wesley’s preachers had gone to the American colonies, but after the American Revolution most returned to England. Because the bishop of London would not ordain some of his preachers to serve in the United States, Wesley controversially took it upon himself, in 1784, to do so. In the same year he pointed out that his societies operated independently of any control by the Church of England. Toward the end of his life, Wesley became an honoured figure in the British Isles.

The Sweet Grief of Repentance

The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. (Psalm 51:17) I can still see the moment clearly in my mind. At a Christian conference, a friend whom I had been studying the Bible with that semester shared with our group that he was ready to follow Jesus. He broke down in tears. We were football players. We didn’t cry. I honestly couldn’t believe it. He not only accepted my invitation to attend the conference, but he even repented of sin and believed upon Christ for the forgiveness of sins. I sat watching it unfold in absolute awe. Afterward, I talked with the campus minister about how amazing my friend’s conversion had been. The minister, an older man, shared that he had witnessed many such conversions — and that not all had lasted. I didn’t have categories at the time for what the minister said. Had the minister not been there? My friend spoke, “I want to follow Jesus,” so clearly; no doubt he felt some truths deeply; he soon sung hymns so sweetly, as the crowd sang with him. But time proved that repentance was not his truest praise. The talk, the tears, the newfound happiness soon led to a crossroad. A sinful relationship with a girl proved harder to give up, for him, than Jesus. Fruit of Lifelong Repentance If someone’s conversion to God is true, lifelong repentance will follow. The mouth of one not born again can say true things for a time. Unchanged eyes can cry. A dead tongue can sincerely sing worship songs for a season. And turning away from Christ, repenting of him, can prove it all was false. “Christians sin, and at times sin grievously. But they do not make a lifestyle of sinning.” This is what the minister had seen time and time again. He witnessed seed fall on rocky soil — someone who received the word “with joy,” yet because they had no root, they fell away eventually (Matthew 13:20–21). Though they seemed to experience the Spirit’s transformation and fellowship with other believers, they finally “were not of us; for if they had been of us, they would have continued with us” (1 John 2:19). And the pain of watching them leave us can be unbearable. True repentance, then, is lifelong. Martin Luther, in the first of his ninety-five theses, began, “When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent,’ he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.” Luther is capturing what Scripture attests to, for example, when John the Baptist instructs, “Bear fruit in keeping with repentance” (Matthew 3:8). The wringing of our hearts over our sins, the sighs and groans of remaining corruption, our turning away from sin and looking to Christ will follow us to the grave — if we’re true. Saints Still Sin Now, do not misunderstand: Christians sin, and at times sin grievously. But they do not make a lifestyle of sinning. It is impossible to do so. “No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God’s seed abides in him; and he cannot keep on sinning, because he has been born of God” (1 John 3:9). Those with the Spirit repent of sin and turn away from it, encouraged by the discipline of a loving Father. Repentance, we learn in Scripture, is not figuring out the secret passwords to get into heaven. We do not begin an immoral relationship, get confronted in our sin, and continue on in that immoral relationship. We confess our wrongness before God, understand how we’ve conspired against him, and prayerfully cast the sin into the fire, like Paul cast away the poisonous viper fastened to his hand on the island of Patmos (Acts 28:3). Have you continued in a life of repentance? Have you continued in true contrition over sin, accompanied with a true impulse to renounce that sin? Have you continued to wonder how you could so offend your dearest Friend, grieve his indwelling Spirit, and dishonor your heavenly Father? Have you asked, How could I indulge the sin that Christ died to redeem me from? Contrition Draws God Near If you have persisted in repentance, do not forget that your God does not despise this brokenness: “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17). He does not stand in heaven cross-armed, scowling. Contrition draws him near. As with the Prodigal Son, we do not need to bring our mere promises to do better next time; we bring bended knees and lowly hearts. We ask him to cover our disgrace and lavish us with fresh mercy flowing from the cross of his beloved Son who died to take away our sins. This is an immovable part of our praise to God: agreeing with him that our sin is horrible, that we deserve punishment for it, but that Christ died for our forgiveness, and gave us his Spirit to put it to death. We vow to turn from it, yes, but only in the strength, forgiveness, and acceptance that he provides through grace alone. Having seen more men walk away after sin, having witnessed the painful sights the minister has seen, I plead with you: Continue to offer God this truest, deepest, and sweetest of praises to God. “Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord” (Acts 3:19–20). Article by Greg Morse

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