My dear friend, I have read your outpouring of heart before the throne of grace, and I do not count it arrogance that you bring your desires to the Lord, for He bids us cast all our care upon Him. Yet I must speak plainly with you as a shepherd of souls, for your request carries with it much that needs to be weighed in the balances of the sanctuary.
You speak of loneliness, of being misunderstood and set upon by the heat of the day while others seemed to find shade. Remember that your Master trod the winepress alone, and of the people there were none with Him. His own disciples forsook Him and fled, and in His hour of deepest anguish no sympathetic cry attended His prayer. Shall the servant be above his Lord? I do not say this to bruise your already wounded spirit, but to pour in the oil of holy consolation. When you feel that even those who should have defended you turned aside, know that Christ has gone before you in that lonely path, and His sympathy is no distant thing but the nearness of a tried Friend.
You have set your hope upon a television spot and a puppet show for the gospel. Such a desire, if the Lord truly plants it and brings it to pass in His own way, may be used for His glory. But examine carefully whether this has become an idol in the heart, a thing you grip so tightly that if it were taken away you would charge God foolishly. Our text in Job teaches us that when the Lord turned his captivity, it was not when Job clamoured for his own vindication, but when he prayed for his friends. Intercessory prayer was the bow in the cloud, the dove of peace. I would gently ask: in all your planning for this television work, have you first set yourself to pray for those who have wronged you? For those slacking colleagues and harsh overseers? Have you wept for them as Job wept for those in trouble? The secret spot of the true child of God is not found in outward successes, nor in the glitter of a public work, but in a heart that loves its enemies and intercedes even for the miserable comforters.
You speak rightly of wanting to help other sufferers, to let those with disabilities join you. That is a tender and noble impulse, and I see in it the marks of genuine sympathy. Job could say, "Did not I weep for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the poor?" Yet mark well that the chief end of man is not to shine a little in this world, but to glorify God and enjoy Him forever. If your happiness depends upon a birthday gift of public recognition, I fear you shall find the thing as hollow as all earthly glories are. Do you not know that the glory of man is as the flower of the field? The worm of disappointment feeds at the root of every worldly ambition. The path of the true servant is often through the dust and the din, with no trumpet before him. To go through life without calumny is not to be expected; to go through life without sinning under trial, that is the aim. Adversity, however it masquerades as our foe, is often our truest friend.
You have endured much: the loss of a job, the sting of discrimination, the weariness of your condition. In all this you have not cursed God, and I honour that. Yet I hear in your words a note of bargaining, as if to say, "Lord, I have suffered, now give me this." But what if the Lord sees fit to withhold it? What if He slays your hope entirely? Will you then trust Him still? That is the ultimate question. The hypocrite and the worldling give up when God smites, but the true-born child of God clings to Him with all the energy of his soul and says, "Though He slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Have you that faith? If the television spot never comes, if you are called to continue cleaning after animals for years yet, if you remain a bachelor and dwell in a humble place, will Christ be enough for you? That is the secret spot of the elect: they want Christ and nothing else if He sees fit to give nothing else.
Do not misunderstand me. I am not saying your desire is sinful in itself. A biblical puppet show may well be a fine instrument for teaching truth to little ones. But the way you speak of it as the thing that will make you happy, as the compensation for your trials, as the cure for your loneliness, this gives me pause. No created thing can bear the weight of your soul's needs. Only Jesus can satisfy. And often He strips us of other comforts that we may learn to say, "Whom have I in heaven but thee? and there is none upon earth that I desire beside thee."
I counsel you, dear friend, to seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness. Let your prayer be less about a spot on television and more about a spot in the true church, a place of humble, hidden service where souls are truly won. Go on with your puppet work if the door opens, but hold it loosely. Give yourself to prayer for your enemies, to sympathy for the poor in spirit, to the cultivation of a meek and quiet heart which is in the sight of God of great price. If a suitable wife is to be found, seek her not for mere relief from loneliness, but that you two together might serve the Lord with one heart and mouth. But if you remain unmarried, know that your Lord can satisfy the solitary and set you in families of His own appointing.
As for the injustice you suffered in the workplace, I do not minimize it. It is hard to toil in the sun while others lounge in shade, to see the slackers preferred while the faithful servant is overlooked. Yet consider Him who endured such contradiction of sinners against Himself, lest you be wearied and faint in your minds. And beware lest bitterness take root. Speak of your former colleagues not with lingering resentment but with a pity borrowed from your Master's heart. Pray for them.
Now I must touch briefly on something that stirred my concern. You spoke of standards and of keeping away from 'bad people,' those whom you called sinful and secular. Guard your own purity, indeed. Flee youthful lusts. But remember that the Lord Jesus was known as a friend of publicans and sinners. The whole need not the physician. Your puppet show, if it ever comes to be, must not become a fortress of self-righteousness but a hospital for the sin-sick. And if the Lord in His providence keeps you in humble, outdoor toil among people who are rough and ungodly, that may be your true pulpit, and the fragrance of a patient, gracious life your most powerful sermon.
I leave you with this: do not fret over tomorrow's death or tomorrow's life. Job made a mistake about the date of his own death, but he did not mistake the fact. You are mortal; your birthday may come or it may not, but these things are with God. It is no aim of a brave believer either to court death or to dread it, but to run his race well until the tape is broken. Let your expectation be from the Lord, not from television executives. Keep your heart with all diligence. Let frugality and purity mark your life. But above all, seek to know the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, and you shall be filled with all the fulness of God, with or without the public eye upon you.
I do not dismiss your prayer; I only place it upon the altar and bid you wait. God may grant it exactly as asked; He may deny it in kindness; He may transform it into something better. In any case, be satisfied with His will. Your true birthday gift is the enduring promise that when He has tried you, you shall come forth as gold.
Go now, and in your secret place pour out your heart afresh, but with this resolution: "Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." And when you have done that, go and do some humble good to another, for active service often lifts the clouds better than solitary brooding.
The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make His face shine upon thee and be gracious unto thee. The Lord lift up His countenance upon thee and give thee peace.