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Commentary Index | Return to PrayerRequest.com | DownloadQuiet Talks by Samuel Dickey: Gordon, Samuel Dickey - Quiet Talks on Power: 13. Tarry
TOPIC: Gordon, Samuel Dickey - Quiet Talks on Power (Other Topics in this Collection)
SUBJECT: 13. Tarry
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Tarry
My friend, have you received this promised power? Is there a growing up of those four things within you by His grace? Does the Holy Spirit have freeness of sway in you? Are you conscious of the fullness of His love and power—conscious enough to know how much there is beyond of which you are not conscious? Does your heart say, "No." Well, things may be moving smoothly in that church of which you are pastor, and in that school over which you preside. Business may be in a satisfactory condition. Your standing in society may be quite pleasing. Your plans working out well. The family may be growing up around you as you had hoped. But let me say to you very kindly but very plainly your life thus far is a failure. You have been succeeding splendidly it may be in a great many important matters, but they are the details; in the main issue you have failed utterly.
And to you tonight I bring one message—the Master's Olivet message—"tarry ye." No need of tarrying, as with these disciples, for God to do something. His part has been done, and splendidly done. And He waits now upon you. But tarry until you are willing to put out of your life that which displeases Him, no matter what that may mean to you. Tarry until your eyesight is corrected; until your will is surrendered. Tarry that you may start the habit of tarrying, for those two Olivet words, "Go" and "tarry," will become the even-balancing law of your new life. A constant going to do His will; a continual tarrying to find out His will. Tarry to get your ears cleared and quieted so you can learn to recognize that low voice of His. Tarry earnestly, steadily until that touch of power comes to change, and cleanse, and quiet, and to give you a totally new conception of what power is. Then you can understand the experience of the one who wrote:—
"My hands were filled with many things
That I did precious hold,
As any treasure of a king's—
Silver, or gems, or gold.
The Master came and touched my hands,
(The scars were in His own)
And at His feet my treasures sweet
Fell shattered, one by one.
'I must have empty hands,' said He,
'Wherewith to work My works through thee."
"My hands were stained with marks of toil,
Defiled with dust of earth;
And I my work did oft times soil,
And render little worth.
The Master came and touched my hands,
(And crimson were His own)
But when, amazed, on mine I gazed,
Lo! every stain was gone.
'I must have cleansed hands,' said He,
'Wherewith to work My works through thee.'
"My hands were growing feverish
And cumbered with much care!
Trembling with haste and eagerness,
Nor folded oft in prayer.
The Master came and touched my hands,
(With healing in His own)
And calm and still to do His will
They grew—the fever gone.
'I must have quiet hands,' said He,
'Wherewith to work My works for Me."
"My hands were strong in fancied strength,
But not in power divine,
And bold to take up tasks at length,
That were not His but mine.
The Master came and touched my hands,
(And might was in His own!)
But mine since then have powerless been,
Save His are laid thereon.
'And it is only thus,’ said He,
'That I can work My works through thee.'”