"If a commission by an earthly king is considered an honor, how can a commission by a Heavenly King be considered a sacrifice?"
-David Livingstone

December 29, 2010


"Dunn and his family were spending a few days holiday in Colorado in March. Snow and ice everywhere. Near where they stayed were some little trout lakes, covered in ice. One day Pastor Dunn's friend suggested he walk across one of the little lakes. Here's the story, as told by Dunn in his book:

'I've lived in the South and South-West all my life, and the lakes there don't freeze solidly enough (if they freeze at all) to support the weight of a child, much less that of an adult. I promptly relayed these critical facts to my friend and respectfully declined his gracious offer.
Laughing, he said, 'Come on, Pastor, it's safe - and it may be your only chance to walk on the water.'
I still wasn't crazy about the idea, but after more coaxing, I ventured out. Perhaps ventured 'out' is stretching it. I inched my way out not more than a couple of yards from the shore because, unlike Peter, I doubted Jesus would reach out and save me if I began to sink. I kept a nervous eye on the shore and one on the ice, watching for cracks. And I tiptoed, because you weigh less when you tiptoe. You didn't know that?
Anyway, after a brief and nervous walk on the water, I scrambled back to the soild safety of the shore. I had little faith in the ice.
Later, as we drove back to our lodge, we passed another of the trout lakes and as I looked out of the car window I saw a man sitting in the middle of the frozen lake. He was sitting on a wooden crate, hunched over a hole in the ice, fishing! I did a double take at that, feeling foolish as I recalled my timid excursion on the ice.
Now to the point: the man sitting in the middle of the frozen lake had great faith in the ice - right? I had almost no faith at all in the ice. Now which one of us was the safest? He with his great faith, or me with my little faith? Surely the man with the great faith was more secure? The fact is, the man with the great faith was no safer than I was with my little faith. Though my faith was practically non-existent, I was just as safe as the fisherman who possessed great faith.
Why? It wasn't our faith that held us up. It was the ice.
What, then, is the advantage of having great faith?
I'm glad you asked. Picture me on the ice: timid, nervous, afraid to venture out, constantly looking for cracks in the ice, fearing that at any moment the ice is going to betray me... know any Christians like that? Timid, nervous, afraid to venture out on the Word of God, their eyes constantly searching for cracks in His promises, fearing that God may at any moment abandon them. There is no joy or excitement in their walk. That is the life of little faith.
Picture the fisherman: unafraid to step out on the ice, boldly venturing to the very middle, enjoying himself, resting his entire weight on the ice. You have seen a few Christians like that: they boldly step out on the promises of God, unafraid in the middle of His will, filled with joy and satisfaction, resting on the Word of God who cannot lie. That's the life of great faith.
As we drove past the fisherman, I said, 'I wonder where he got the nerve to do that.'
My friend answered immediately, 'Oh, he lives around here. He knows the ice.'
HE KNOWS THE ICE. And that is the difference between faith and no faith, weak faith and strong faith. The Psalmist said, 'And those who know Thy name will put their trust in Thee' (Ps. 9v10)
The secret of faith is knowing God; and the greater our knowledge of Him and His Word, the greater will be our faith.'"

I'm not sure who wrote this or what book it came from, but I like the illustration.

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