It is difficult for me as a counselor to deal with some of the extreme views so frequently put forth by certain Christians. Some who want God’s reference point for morality, purity, or holiness seem frequently to ignore His standard on love and compassion. Others who go to an opposite extreme speak of a cheap kind of love that demands little in the way of holiness.
Most of us have difficulty understanding other people’s pain unless it is a pain we too have experienced. We who are prone to depression will likely empathize with others who suffer from depression. We may, however, be less tolerant of those who struggle with anxiety. We are far more willing to excuse another’s frailty, and even their sin, if it is our own frailty or sin. …
Even when failure or sin is involved, while Ruth maintains a high standard for Christian living, at the same time she holds a higher standard than most for the necessity of acting in love and refusing to give up. She once commented to a Sunday school class she was teaching, “When a person seems at his worst, we should demonstrate Jesus’ love the most. When a child falls, you don’t avoid or scold him. You help him up and comfort and encourage him.” Isn’t that precisely what Christ did? …
Furthermore, what other people think is not nearly as important as what happens to the prodigal or to the one who is not prodigal at all, but who, like David of old, is simply downcast. …
On the topic of bitterness as it relates to people in general, when a friend of hers found out that her husband had been cheating on her for over half of their married life, she asked Ruth: “How do you deal with bitterness?” Ruth realized that the friend had been so deeply wounded that it was like a deep abscess. “You have to allow time for an abscess to come to a head before you can lance it,” she said to me. “I think the bitterness is like the pus,” she continued. “Once you lance it and the pus is drained off, then the healing can begin. It’s a slow process, but it is an important process.” …
Ruth Graham’s practical wisdom does not end when the issues become heavy and controversial. For isn’t God the God of the impossible? I once shared my concern over a young man who had refused to accept Christ as Savior and then in a drunken stupor drove his motorcycle into a pole and died. In speaking of the godly parents who were distraught, I asked: “What would you say to them?” She answered honestly, “I don’t know,” but then added something that I found to be of great help. “I remember a little couplet I heard somewhere. I do not know where it came from. I do not know who wrote it. But it said: ‘Between the saddle and the ground, mercy sought and mercy found.’” Then, with conviction, she added: “So many parents don’t live to see their prayers answered. But I’m convinced God will answer our prayers. … We don’t know what happens in that last split second. … I really think that we cannot begin to comprehend the mercy of God.”
How deeply simple words of hope such as these can become part of our everyday thinking, even for a child. As we were watching the news one evening the death of a famous person was announced. With the announcement came the statement that the person had no belief in God. I made a simple statement of regret that it was sad to think of someone dying without knowing God. A soft voice at my side said quietly, “But between the saddle and the ground, mercy sought and mercy found.” It was my eight-year-old granddaughter.
Of the suicide of a young man, Ruth was realistic about the family: “They’ll go through it, but they’ll never get over it.” Yet when confronted by the reality of those who insist that Christians who kill themselves will go to hell, her response was immediate: “That’s baloney! God knows when a person is pushed beyond endurance. And I love this saying: ‘God did not call him home, but God welcomed him.’” When I shared that with a patient not long ago, visible waves of relief swept over his face, and he was comforted. …
Unknown to most, Ruth Graham’s practical wisdom extends far beyond words. She is a doer, and no task is too menial for her to perform. To her the concept of the cup of cold water is quite literal. On a simple level, when I expressed an interest in reading an author who is a favorite of hers but whose works are hard to locate, I shared my plan to initiate a search in used bookstores. This was before the days of the Internet. To my surprise, a few days later three of the man’s books arrived in the mail, dispatched in haste while Ruth was rushing to prepare for a trip. Such an act is typical of her thoughtfulness and generosity.
But to Ruth the cup of cold water extends far beyond a simple act of kindness to actions which go back to Christ’s example and teaching on this earth. A man named Arthur Radcliffe, who taught horticulture in North Carolina, later managed a flower shop and served as an usher in the Montreat Presbyterian Church. Around the time Ruth started teaching her Sunday school class, the man was placed in a nursing home in Greensboro, North Carolina. By this time Radcliffe was in his seventies.
Miserable due to his separation from the plants and soil he loved to work, he fled and landed at Ruth’s door. “‘I’m not going to let the highway patrol take me back!’ he declared, his voice rising. ‘I’ll die before I’ll go back to that nursing home.’ Then he begged, his eyes gleaming. ‘Why don’t you just let me die right here in this old cabin you got at the end of the road?’”
Ruth fixed up the cabin, and Radcliffe moved in. Two years later he died, after having worked his beloved earth once again.
– Elizabeth R. Skoglund, Found Faithful: The Timeless Stories of Charles Spurgeon, Amy Carmichael, C.S. Lewis, Ruth Bell Graham, and Others. Click here to purchase on Amazon.