"Please sit down, George," said Mr. Gibson. We exchanged a few minutes of
cordial chit-chat, and then Jean began to review the goals that I had written out four
months earlier. "I see that one of your goals was to "deepen your well' in the
Scriptures," he commented. "Yes, you're doing quite well academically," he added.
I gloated a bit in self-glory. After making a few more comments on other goals, he
said, "I see another goal was that you wanted to become a 'worshiper of God.' That
is a wonderful goal." Then as he leaned over his desk and looked directly into my
eyes, he asked, "So George, tell me, how many times have you made a
contribution in the Lord's Supper since you have been here?"

It was like a spear going through my heart. The self-glory I had been basking in
before suddenly evaporated. I felt that every eye of heaven was upon me and that I
was naked and laid bare before the bar. I had no defense. The facts were as clear
as the air on a cold winter night. I had made only one contribution during the
proceeding four months: I had timidly called out a song. Oh yes, there were
definite times when I had felt the leading of the Holy Spirit to pray or give a short
meditation from the Scriptures, but. . . what would others think of me? Would I pray
without making a mistake? What if I said something wrong? Surely, it wouldn't be
as good as Brother Smith's contribution. The justifications were without end. I was
totally consumed by the fear of man and love for self and effectively "chained to my
chair" in silence.

What happened after Mr. Gibson asked me that question? It was one of those rare
moments that perhaps should happen more often: I broke before God. In tears
and with my head bowed in complete shame, I answered Mr. Gibson and said,
"Once." I then laid my head upon his desk and wept uncontrollably.

Jean obviously was a bit startled by the fact that his simple question had extracted
such a reaction from me. However, perhaps recalling Prov.12:25 -- "Heaviness in
the heart of man maketh it stoop: but a good word maketh it glad"--he rose from
his chair, came around to me, comforted me with a few good words, and gave me
a few tissues to wipe my eyes. He then put his arm around me and helped me up
while saying, "Look George, many young men have gone through what you're
going through. However, you must get out of this 'bad rut' that you are in. This
Sunday at the Breaking of Bread, I want you to worship the Lord publically. If all you
do is get up and say, 'I love you, Lord,' and then sit down, that's alright. But you
must make a contribution and break out of your rut."

I quickly left his office and virtually ran home and fell on my bed. I was so ashamed
of myself. My fear had paralyzed me. My love for self was stronger than my love for
the Lord. I had failed the Lord. Yet I confessed it all to Him while asking Him for
strength and He heard me.

The next Sunday rolled around very quickly. I was seated in the Lord's Supper with
love for my Lord in my heart. I was ready to worship. Yet, the old enemy was there
as well saying, "You have nothing to say. You can't pray as well as Mr. Smith . . . ."
However, about mid-way through the meeting there was a moment of silence. With
a few drops of sweat on my brow, I arose from my chains, lifted up my heart and
voice to the Lord, said five words, "Lord Jesus, I love You," and sat down. I suspect
Mr. Gibson, maybe even the angels in heaven, might have chuckled a bit. But I
believe the Lord was as well-pleased with those five words as He would have
been with any five-minute meditation. A spiritual work was once and for all
accomplished in my soul. From that moment onward the fear of man at the Lord's
Supper was broken and put to death and the truth of this verse became a reality in
my soul: "For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a
sound mind"(2 Tim. 1:7).

When was your last contribution at the Lord's Supper? Perhaps there is a young
man reading this article who is struggling with this very real and very common
problem, and your answer is, "It has been a long time." Dear brother, God has not
given you a spirit of fear, but of power to overcome the fear of man. He has given
you a spirit of love to overcome love for self so you can express your love for the
Lord. He has given you a sound mind to realize that you must break out of the
chains as God helped me to do.

When was your last contribution? May we all be able to say, "Last week!"
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THE DAY THE CHAINS FELL OFF
by George Sturm

The time was December of 1983. The place was the
office of Jean Gibson at Fairhaven Bible Chapel. Nancy
and I were attending the Discipleship Intern Training
Program that Jean and William MacDonald had
organized. The program began in late August of 1983
and ran through May of 1984. Each "intern" (as we were
called) was required to write out his personal goals for
areas of spiritual growth. Four months or so had
passed. It was now December and Mr. Gibson had
asked me to come for a chat in his office in order to
review my goals and evaluate my progress.
News in English > Articles & Bible Studies > The Day the Chains Fell Off
The Day the Chains Fell Off:
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