The call of God is utterly unique. We think we are answering God’s call when we devote ourselves to spiritual service, but once we get into a right relationship with him, we see how wrong we’ve been. When God calls, he calls us to something we’ve never dreamed of before. In one radiant, flashing moment, we see what he wants us to do—to “fill up” in our flesh “what is still lacking in regard to Christ’s afflictions”—and we are riveted with a terrific pain.

The call of God has nothing to do with personal holiness. It’s about being made broken bread and poured-out wine. If we are ever going to be made into wine, we will have to be crushed; you cannot drink whole grapes. But God can never crush those who resist the fingers he uses to do it. Those fingers may belong to someone we dislike, or to some set of circumstances to which we said we would never submit. We think, “If only God would use his own fingers to crush me, and do it in some special, heavenly way!” We have to learn that we cannot choose the scene or the means of our martyrdom.

I wonder what kind of fingers God has been using to squeeze you. Have you been hard as a marble and escaped? If God had persisted in squeezing you while you were still unripe, the wine would have been remarkably bitter. If you wish to be a person whom God can easily crush, you must allow his presence to govern every element of your natural life and to break those elements in his service.

We have to be rightly related to God before we can be broken in his hands. Keep right with him, let him do with you as he likes, and you will find that he is producing the kind of bread and wine that will benefit his other children.

Wisdom from Oswald

We must keep ourselves in touch, not with theories, but with people, and never get out of touch with human beings, if we are going to use the word of God skilfully amongst them.  Workmen of God, 1341 L