That Commodious Haven

That Commodious Haven

And because the haven was not commodious to winter in, the more part advised to depart thence  (Acts 27:12)

That in the ages to come he might shew the exceeding riches of his grace in his kindness toward us through Christ Jesus. (Ephesians 2:7)

Many years ago when I had little experience but great insipience, I wrote a list of four goals I never believed I would accomplish: get to college; graduate college (this was added during my fourth or fifth year while I worked my way through school); get a car; and get married. The list naturally speaks to my priorities at the time. Purchasing a house was not on my list—indeed, I never considered it until the spring of 2020. Providentially, 2020 was a good year to buy a house. Besides the low mortgage rate, two other reasons contributed to the purchase: a change in living situation, and an unstated belief that, if I got a house, surely then God would see that I was a “good and faithful servant” and bless me with another item to check off my list of goals. No doubt other unmarried people have thought this way, yet even as I write this I smile at the silly logic of 2020 Ben; how much I have changed; how much I have not.

God in His grace did bless me with a house. In moments of prayer and contemplation I marvel at what He has wrought. How have I come to live in a house twice the size of the one in which I grew up? Admittedly, my childhood house was quite small: a reality I rarely contemplated at that time. Whether that house or this, though, nothing I do could have earned my domestic, Divine blessing: how much more have I received without merit my Redemption and Salvation, something so much more magnifical.

The best advice that I’ve received regarding prayer is a quote that is attributed anonymously: pray until you pray. Quite possibly the best feature of having a house to myself is the opportunity to pray without interruption and in peace. Though there are days (the best of days) wherein I pray at length, if I am “busy” or want to work in the yard, prayer time is often the first discipline eliminated. If instead I skipped a meal instead of prayer, no doubt both my spiritual and physical health would improve. Is that a fat joke? Maybe. I’ll let you decide.

A younger Ben would have thought an hour of prayer to be impossible. Would I not run out of things to say? Not yet. But I’ve also discovered that the more I pray, the more I wish to pray. Prayer is talking with the only Someone who can do anything about everything. Proper prayer requires practice, and I stand by the axiom that prayer is talking with God, not to God. On every occasion the Father brings more to my mind than I could have imagined; a good conversation tends to do that. A few weeks ago He called to my mind all the places to which, from which, and through which He has led me, Deuteronomy 1:31 coming to mind:And in the wilderness, where thou hast seen how that the Lord thy God bare thee, as a man doth bear his son, in all the way that ye went, until ye came into this place.Biblical, paternal language that refers to God as our Father cuts to my very soul. Some have said that “if you don’t see God in your father, you can’t see God as your Father.” However, God is the only consistent Father I have known. Being raised in a single parent family, I developed an immense desire, or perhaps weakness, for security. As a result, Satan’s temptations are frequently accompanied by the thought, “Do this and you will have security,” or more often, “Refrain from doing this and you will have security.” I am constantly looking for my “place."

Some of those place, or havens, wherein I have moored have been pleasant and secure. Most have been unpleasant and insecure. When I had no other place, I pillowed my head in the homes of compassionate friends of friends. On one occasion I slept in a friend’s car. When I began to rent my first apartment, I slept on the floor. That time was somewhat uncomfortable, but also not unhappy.

Though I am grateful for my 2020 house, my current haven, I know it will not be my last. Others lived in this house before me and, God willing, others will live here after me. I don’t own this place, even when the mortgage has been paid-in-full. I am a caretaker. At some point, the Father will move me on. I have no desire for a horizontal move; I love my church and its people. I’m no fan of moving trucks and hauling furniture. I also have many books. If I must move, I hope it will be a vertical move: to heaven and Him. Like our sister Fanny Crosby, I long to meet my Savior first of all.

The mystery and the marvel to me of Ephesians 2:7 is the word “ages.” To contemplate an age is sufficiently simple: in Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings, an age begins and ends with some major historical event. By that criterion, our arrival Home will be the beginning of a new age. However, Ephesians 2:7 says that in the heavenly places we will know more than one age; in each we will experience progressively exceeding riches of His grace. Christian brothers and sisters: bring all that you can into the safety of that Most Commodious Haven. Someone told you how to get Home. Tell someone else.

Nathanael answered and saith unto him, Rabbi, thou art the Son of God; thou art the King of Israel. Jesus answered and said unto him, Because I said unto thee, I saw thee under the fig tree, believest thou? thou shalt see greater things than these. (John 1:49, 50) But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for He hath prepared for them a city. (Hebrews 11:16)

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The above article was written by Ben Reed. He is member of NorthStone Baptist Church in Pensacola, FL. To offer him your feedback, comment below or email us at strengthforlife461@gmail.com.

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