Philippians 2

Making The Best Of Things

Do all things without murmurings. Philippians 2:14.

Who would like to be a hero? You can all be that. How? By making the best of things, by doing all things “without murmurings,” and that just means without grumbling. You think that is a silly sort of way of being a hero, that there is nothing grand about it, and that any “duffer” could do it? Well, have you tried it?

Next time you come down to breakfast and find the porridge singed, watch what you do. Next time you get that same old milk pudding to dinner, notice what you say. Next time you want to go out to play and the rain descends in torrents, see how you take it. Next time you are sent an errand at the most thrilling point in your storybook, observe how you behave.

I have known boys and girls whose life was one big grumble. They grumbled about the weather, they grumbled about their clothes, they grumbled about their food, they grumbled about their lessons, they grumbled even about their games. They never got such nice things as other people did, nobody was fair to them, everything was beastly and horrid.

Now, of course, there aren't any of that kind here, but in case there are a few of the kind that do grumble now and again, I just want to say a word or two to them.

1. Make up your mind now that you are not always going to have things all your own way in life. Things will not always go exactly as you like, and it is well that they won't. You would probably become a very disagreeable person if they did. It is our disappointments and hardships or rather the brave bearing of them that make fine men and women of us. If things always went smoothly we should grow lazy, and selfish, and weak.

There is a story told of an Indian rajah who was always getting ill. At last he consulted his chief officer about it. “How is it,” he asked, “that I am so often ill? I live in a palace; I have good food to eat and soft, warm clothing to wear; I never go out in the rain; and yet I am always ill.”

The officer replied that too much care was worse than no care at all and that he would prove it. So he led the rajah out into the fields and there they met a shepherd tending his flocks. The shepherd was clad in coarse garments, his food was parched corn and water, he was accustomed to be out in all weathers, and his only shelter when he slept was a rude hut made of plaited palm leaves. And yet the man seemed to be in splendid health. The rajah asked him if he never suffered from cold or fever, and he replied, “No, I am accustomed to the hard life.”

The officer begged the rajah to invite the shepherd to the palace. The invitation was given and accepted. In the palace the shepherd was fed on fine food and clothed in soft garments. He was kept out of draughts and never allowed to go out in dew or rain or sunshine. At the end of some months, the marble floor of the courtyard was one day sprinkled with water to cleanse it, and the shepherd caught cold and died. The soft, easy life had made him weak and delicate.

Now, it is just like that with our little troubles and hardships. They are sent to make us strong. If things always went exactly as we wanted them to go, we should become poor, weak, selfish creatures. So next time you meet with something not quite to your liking, remember it is a blessing in disguise.

1. Another thing I want you to remember is that grumbling makes little troubles into big ones. It is unusual how big our little misfortunes and disappointments become when we brood over them and complain about them. They are regular “Jack's Beanstalks” and grow apace.

Did you ever hear the fable of the two pitchers that went to the well? One of them looked very gloomy, and his companion asked him what was wrong. “Oh dear, oh dear,” he sighed, “it seems to me it doesn't matter how often we are filled we always return empty.” “Dear me,” said the other, “that's an odd way of looking at it! I like to think that no matter how often we are emptied we are always brought back and filled full again.”

And that story reminds me of another; it is about an Egyptian king who dreamt one night that all his teeth had fallen out. He was very much disturbed, and in the morning he sent for one of his soothsayers to interpret the dream. The man pulled a long face and told the monarch that he was afraid the vision meant that all his relatives would die before him and that he would be left alone to lament their loss. The king drove the soothsayer from his presence and ordered him to be whipped. Then he sent for another wise man and related the dream to him. This man wore a glad face. “Congratulate yourself, your majesty,” said he, “this dream promises you great length of days. You will live longer than any of your relatives.” The king was delighted and handsomely rewarded the interpreter.

These two men had said exactly the same thing, only they had said it in a different way. There are two sides to every question, a bright side and a dark side. There are two ways of meeting our troubles making the best of them, which means making the least of them; or making the worst of them, which means making them a great deal bigger than they really are. Which do you think is the wiser way? Which way are you going to choose?