For years I carried around in my wallet a little card folded up with a quote from George Müller (1805-1898), the man of faith who prayed in funds for his orphanage in England. The quote I had with me at all times–until he shriveled to pieces–was this:
There was a day when I died, utterly died — died to George Müller, his opinions, preferences, tastes, and will; died to the world, its approval or censure; died to the approval or blame even of my brethren and friends — and since then I have only to show myself approved to God.
I wrote that down, not because I felt I was living like that, but because I knew I needed to. For everyone there is some friend, some sphere of influence, some colleague, some journal, some peer, some big shot in your profession, some one somewhere you so respect, or so fear, that you can’t bear the thought of disappointing them.
That fear must die. For if the fear of God is the beginning of wisdom, the fear of man is the beginning of misery, compromise, and disappointment.
You will not last as a Christian–and you will not be truly happy–unless you fight to be dead to the approval of the world and live to show yourself only approved unto God.
