As the academic year winds down – and we all experience fatigue – I am reminded of an unlikely hero, Ed Drake. In 1859, Ed was an unemployed 38-year-old drifter. But he had a big idea. He wondered whether it would be possible to drill for oil with the same technology used to procure underground water.
As he set up his new-fangled oil rig in Western Pennsylvania, people scoffed and called him crazy. After five months of failed attempts, their mocking only increased. To make matters worse, his drillers quit and investors abandoned him. He had drilled down 89 feet without any success and was sinking even deeper into personal despair. As a terminal blow, his single remaining investor sent Ed a final check and told him to shut the project down.
However, before the letter arrived, Ed decided to go six inches deeper. And, as they say, the rest is history. He hit such a gusher that tubs, washbasins, and barrels were all filled with oil. The slimy stuff was everywhere, and oil was fast on its way to become a driving force in the world economy.
Like Ed Drake, I suspect that you are tired at the end of another academic year. You’ve worked hard and long. And now it’s May. You’ve drilled your 89 feet and are ready for summer. The question is: Will you go the extra six inches to extract a deeper level of spiritual riches?
The apostle Paul knew a lot about fatigue and its attending temptation pull up short: “Don’t grow weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we don’t lose heart” (Gal. 6:9). In this statement, Paul gives us a command, a promise, and two qualifiers.
Command: “Don’t grow weary in well-doing.”
It is far too easy for us to start a new academic year with great vigor, only to run out of gas in the spring. Think of Old Testament figures Saul and Solomon, who both started strong but faded badly in the stretch.
Michelangelo, the famed sculptor of the Renaissance, was at the height of his career when called by the pope to paint a narrow, box-shaped room with high ceilings. He protested: “I am not a painter. I am a sculptor.”
But, as a dutiful son of the church, he obeyed and commenced work. And it was tortuous – dripping paint burned his eyes, unforgiving mold, and several restarts. When the pope inquired: “When will you be done?”, the artist retorted, “When I am done.” Only after four years of painstaking effort did he complete his work. Of course, the result — the Sistine Chapel — was a masterpiece. And we are all thankful that Michelangelo did not grow weary in his labors.
Persisting in the face of adversity and fatigue is not easy. We all are prone to discouragement. Reflecting on a deadly winter at Valley Forge during the American Revolutionary War, Thomas Paine penned these memorable lines: “These are times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of country; but he that stands now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman. Tyranny, like hell, is not easily conquered.”
Dare we do any less? At InterVarsity, our calling is certainly higher and nobler than national aspirations. We serve the King of the universe! So, when you grow tired of the bickering among student leaders, when you are fatigued by a personnel matter or burdened by budgets, stop and remember: do not grow weary in well-doing.
Promise: “We shall reap.”
Like spiritual farmers, we plant now and see crops later. While Paul’s statement “we shall reap” is reassuring, the interlude of waiting can be maddening. Do you really believe that all of those hours invested in student leaders will eventually pay off? Do you really believe that your diligence in raising support will yield fruit? Do you really believe that your prayers for an angular team member will be answered?
At times, waiting for the harvest can be very discouraging. About 100 years ago, a teacher named Anne Sullivan was hired by an Alabama family. Their seven old daughter was blind and deaf. For three, long and frustrating years, Anne labored with the girl through touch, teaching her to read Braille. At times Anne felt like giving up, but eventually the girl grasped the concepts, graduated from Radcliffe (cum laude) and become a teacher herself. Though years had passed, Anne reaped her reward: She had given Helen Keller to the world.
Do you believe that you will eventually reap? Do you believe that your labors are not in vain? When discouraged, do you feel sorry for yourself? Or, like Paul, do you persist towards a harvest?
Qualifier #1: “In due season.”
As a people, we Americans are not known for deferring gratification. We tend to want everything now. “In due season” seems too far away.
But, as people of God, we should reflect on the saints who preceded us. Take the prophetess, Anna, who waited for the Messiah for more than 60 years (Luke 2). Or William Wilberforce, who persisted for 50 years on his campaign against slavery. Or the great American Puritan, Cotton Mather, who prayed for revival several hours every day for 20 years.
Combining persistence and patience is by no means easy. Are you up to the challenge? Are you willing to wait for the Lord? Can you hang in there long enough for Him to act?
Qualifier #2: “If we don’t lose heart.”
Paul notes that if we allow discouragement to prevail over hope, we will not reap the promised harvest. For InterVarsity staff, this means looking beyond difficult circumstances in the present to the promises of God in the future. Like the woman in the Parable of the Lost Coin (Luke 15), we are to stay focused and be tenacious in pursuing our goal.
In the fourth century, a woman named Monica prayed for her wayward only son as he moved away, became a professor, took a mistress, and had a child out of wedlock. All seemed bleak, but she kept on praying. When he eventually converted, she died a mere nine days later. By not losing heart, her son, Augustine, became one of the church’s greatest leaders.
Conclusion
It’s May. Are you tired? Frustrated? Disappointed? If so, try posting Galatians 6:9 on your mirror: “Don’t grow weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if we don’t lose heart.”
And remember, never stop at 89 feet. Always go the extra six inches.
