Inspiration from Martin Luther King Jr.

I've recently picked up a book by Philip Yancey that my father bought for me a couple months ago for my birthday. It's called "Soul Survivor: How Thirteen Unlikely Mentors Helped My Faith Survive the Church." I have to admit that I feared Yancey would be too "evangelical" for my liking, but I have been pleasantly surprised at what I've found. Here is a man who is genuine, who has been hurt deeply by dysfunctional religion in ways I've never come close to, and who is earnestly willing to follow the truth wherever it may lead.

For those of you who know me, you might be aware that I'm going through some tough times. I'm struggling with my daily walk with the Lord and feel under attack each day. Ministry has been grueling; the inner city has been overwhelming; my spiritual disciplines have been eroding. But today as I read in Yancey's book about the life of Martin Luther King Jr. (one of the thirteen), I was moved to tears. In fact, if I hadn't been sitting in a public place, I would have been weeping. So today for my blog entry, I just offer an except from Soul Survivor:

"[One night after being released from the Montgomery City Jail at the age of 26] King, shaken by his first jail experience, sat up in his kitchen wondering if he could take it any more. Should he resign? It was around midnight. He felt agitated, and full of fear. A few minutes before the phone had rung. "Nigger, we are tired of you and your mess now. And if you aren't out of this town in three days, we're going to blow your brains out, and blow up your house."

King sat staring at an untouched cup of coffee and tried to think of a way out, a way to quietly surrender leadership and resume the serene life of scholarship he had planned. In the next room lay his wife Coretta, already asleep, along with their newborn daughter Yolanda. Here is how King remembers it in a sermon he preached:

'And I sat at that table thinking about that little girl and thinking about the fact that she could be taken away from me any minute. And I started thinking about a dedicated, devoted and loyal wife, who was over there asleep... And I got to the point that I couldn't take it anymore. I was weak...

And I discovered then that religion had to become real to me, and I had to know God for myself. And I bowed down over that cup of coffee. I will never forget it... I prayed a prayer, and I prayed out loud that night. I said, "Lord, I'm down here trying to do what's right. I think I'm right. I think the cause that we represent is right. But Lord, I must confess that I'm weak now. I'm faltering. I'm losing my courage."

.... And it seemed at that moment that I could hear an inner voice saying to me, "Martin Luther, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And lo I will be with you, even until the end of the world." ... I heard the voice of Jesus saying still to fight on. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone. No never alone. No never alone. He promised never to leave me, never to leave me alone.'

Three nights later, as promised, a bomb exploded on the front porch of King's home, filling the house with smoke and broken glass but injuring no one. King took it calmly: 'My religious experience a few nights before had given me the strength to face it'" (20-21).

I don't dare compare myself to the great Martin Luther King Jr. He was a prophet of the first order. But as I read his story... that he was only in his twenties (as I still am for another 10 months), about his fears for his little girl and wife, his weakness and loss of courage, and his desire to retreat to a "serene life of scholarship" (all of which I can relate to perfectly), I was deeply impacted by the simple message given to him by God: "I am with you."

That's really all anyone ever needs. We don't need a home or clothing or a car to drive. We don't need food or water or air. But we do need God with us. Today I realize that that is the one thing I need. And I have it.