Weighed Down with Criticism

Here is a third case. This man has brought life to many a meeting and has stirred not a few by his words, but now he is rarely seen. He is spiritually cold, lifeless, and unapproachable. What is the trouble? Perhaps the tongue and pen of the critic have been busy, and he is misinterpreted, misunderstood, and maligned. “Well, he must expect that,” we say. “It is in the order of things for a servant of God to be thus tried.” That may be, but this man did not realize that the devil could bury him under it. At any rate, the devil has succeeded for the present. The man is down, depressed, introspective, certain of little, and overwhelmed with the nagging fear that God may have set him aside with no further use for him.

“Oh, that is his nerves,” says someone. “He needs a rest and a change.” Truly his nerves are affected, and he gets away and takes the rest; but he receives no real relief, for the tides of divine life that once enabled him to resist the devil must again flow if he is to be quickened. (In many cases even the physical health is dependent upon the spirit’s being kept open to God and free to cooperate with Him.) If weeping and yearning as well as resting could have brought him deliverance, he would have been on his feet long ago. Instead, despondency has bred despair, and despair is now courting disaster—the disaster that the adversary and devourer of souls is after all the time.