Sam brought up the story of Squanto on Monday, as an example of the difficulties Christians often face in their walks of faith. Here was a Native American, literally, ripped from the New England shoreline for gain by unscrupulous European merchants, who, through a series of providential meetings, learns English (as well as Spanish), & converts to Christianity (when monks "buy" him, essentially freeing him).
"Estas libre (es-TAS LEE-bray)! You are free." Squanto looked into the clear eyes of this man of God. Though he knew no Spanish, he understood. Over the next few weeks he pieced it together. Their love for Jesus had prompted these Christian brothers to buy Indian slaves and teach them the Christian faith. As the monks nursed him back to health, Squanto began to love this Jesus, too.
Amazingly he makes his way home, only to discover more heartache. His people, including his family had been destroyed from disease. Alone, he found solace in a neighboring Rhode Island-based tribe, lead by Samoset. When the pilgrims arrived 6 months later, he'd been prepared to help these fellow Christians. What Satan meant for evil, the Lord had turned to good.
William Bradford, the colonists' governor, prayed: "Thank You, great God, for the bounty You have supplied to us. Thank You for protecting us in hardship and meeting all our needs. . . ." Towards the end of the long prayer, Squanto was startled to hear his own name. "And thank You for bringing to us the Indian Squanto, your own special instrument to save us from hunger and help us to establish our colony in this new land." Squanto stood proudly. It was a day to remember.
Excerpted from Max Lucado's Eye of the Storm:
I drove the family to Grandma’s last night for Thanksgiving. Three hours into the six-hour trip, I realized that I was in a theology lab.
A day with a car full of kids will teach you a lot about God. Transporting a family from one city to another is closely akin to God transporting us from our home to his.
A journey is a journey, whether the destination be the Thanksgiving table or the heavenly one. The fact that my pilgrims were all under the age of seven only enriched my learning experience.
As minutes rolled into hours and our car rolled through the hills, I began to realize that what I was saying to my kids had a familiar ring. I had heard it before—from God. All of a sudden, the car became a classroom. I realized that I was doing for a few hours what God has done for centuries: encouraging travelers who’d rather rest than ride.
I shared the idea with Denalyn. We began to discover similarities between the two journeys. Here are a few we noted.
In order to reach the destination, we have to say no to some requests.
Children have no concept of minutes or miles.
Children can’t envision the reward.
It’s worth it.
As we sat around the table today, no one spoke of the long trip to get here. Yesterday’s challenges were lost in today’s joy.
That’s what Paul meant. God never said that the journey would be easy, but he did say that the arrival would be worthwhile.
Remember this: God may not do what you want, but he will do what is right … and best. He’s the Father of forward motion. Trust him. He will get you home. And the trials of the trip will be lost in the joys of the feast.
Sam brought up the story of Squanto on Monday, as an example of the difficulties Christians often face in their walks of faith. Here was a Native American, literally, ripped from the New England shoreline for gain by unscrupulous European merchants, who, through a series of providential meetings, learns English (as well as Spanish), & converts to Christianity (when monks "buy" him, essentially freeing him).
