This one thing I do—Phil. 3: 13.
We observe the Apostle's singleness of purpose—"This one thing I do." He did not try to do several things; if he had, he would surely have failed. He devoted his life to the one purpose to which he was called, and to that end dropped every other aim in life. He did it, too, in view of the fact that all through the present life his chosen course would bring certain loss, privation, toil, care, persecution and continual reproach. In this singleness of purpose he was relieved of many temptations to turn aside to enjoy some of the good things of this present life, or to pursue some of its illusive bubbles.
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The Apostle Paul is to us an example of singleness of purpose. We may be sure that to his varied talents all sorts of appeals with enchanting incentives were made to enlist them for other objects than the one which he made his goal in life; and his sturdiness in refusing to divert his activity from this one thing may well deserve our admiration and imitation. We cannot be a jack of all trades and a master of any one. Realizing that "a rolling stone gathers no moss," let us bend all our energies to attain this one thing—the making of our calling and election sure.
Parallel passages: 1Cor. 2: 2; Matt. 10: 42; Luke 9: 51, 61, 62; Mark 10: 45; John 4: 31-38; Acts 1: 14; 2: 1, 46; 4: 24, 32; 5: 12; 21: 10-15; Rom. 15: 5, 6; 2Cor. 13: 11; Phil. 1: 27; 3: 18.
Questions: Do I have singleness of purpose? What is my purpose? How do I show it?
HE was better to me than all my hopes,
He was better than all my fears;
He made a bridge of my broken works
And a rainbow of my tears.
The billows that guarded my sea-girt path
Carried my Lord on their crest;
When I dwell on the days of my wilderness march
I can lean on His love for the rest.
He emptied my hands of my treasured store,
And His covenant love revealed;
There was not a wound in mine aching heart,
But the balm of His breath hath healed,
Oh, tender and true was the chastening sore,
In wisdom that taught and tried,
Till the soul He sought was trusting in Him
And nothing on earth beside.
He guided my steps where I could not see,
By ways that I had not known
The crooked was straight and the rough made plain
As I followed the Lord alone.
I praise Him still for the pleasant palms
And the water-springs by the way;
For the glowing pillars of flame by night
And the sheltering cloud by day.
And if to warfare He calls me forth,
He buckles my armor on,
He greets me with smiles and a word of cheer
For battles His Sword hath won;
He wipes my brow, as I droop and faint,
He blesses my hand to toil;
Faithful is He as He washes my feet
From the trace of each earthly soil.
There is light for me on the trackless wild
As the wonders of old I trace,
When the God of the whole earth went before
To search me a resting place.
Hath He changed for me? Nay, He changeth not:
He will bring me by some new way,
Through fire and flood and each crafty foe
As safely as yesterday.
Never a watch in the dreariest halt
But some promise of love endears;
I read from the past that the future shall be
Far better than all my fears,—
Like the golden pot of the wilderness bread,
Laid up with the blossoming rod,
All safe in the ark with the Law of the Lord
In the covenant care of my God.
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