Second Generation Inspired to Pursue the Lord, Sarah Woodruff

My parents met the local church in Stuttgart, Germany in 1972 where my father was completing a graduate physics research internship. In 1973 my parents moved to Los Angeles, where my two brothers and I were born. There my parents found Christ in a real and deep way. They grew spiritually with the help of Watchman Nee's and Witness Lee's writings as well as the help of the believers who were pursuing Christ together with them.

I was born in 1975 and grew up with a strong faith in the Lord. I received the Lord when I was about 5 years old and really loved Him in a simple, child-like way. I attribute this to my mother's faithfulness to speak to us about the Lord, especially through singing to us Christian songs. She fully gave her life to the Lord, because she saw and appreciated all that the Lord is and has done.

At the age of seventeen, after the completion of my first year at the University of North Texas, my mother passed away after a 12 year battle with cancer. Her life was such an example to me because all of her suffering just caused her to love the Lord more and to depend on Him more. Since then, I have had many difficult circumstances, but I am really strengthened to pursue the Lord with those believers around me because of her example and the love for the Lord that she and others have put in me.

I now have my bachelor's degree in Chemical Engineering from the University of Texas at Austin, but I realize that there is much more meaning in my life than to be an Environmental engineer to rescue mankind from all kinds of environmental hazards. Man has a much greater and deeper need--Christ. So, I am now attending a Bible School in Anaheim, California to be trained to preach the gospel, bring people to Christ, and help them grow in the Lord.

“Let Us Contemplate the Grape Vine”

I have been greatly helped by the writings and ministry of both Watchman Nee and Witness Lee. My first encounter with their writings was in their hymns. Even more today I enjoy singing many hymns written by these two deep Christians. Their hymns are rich in their experiences of Christ and cause me to pursue Christ and love Him more. One hymn I especially enjoy because it really parallels my experience of growing in God's life and the experience of the Christian life is #635 in Hymns. This hymn was written by Watchman Nee in Chinese and was later translated.

Let us contemplate the grape vine,

From its life now let us learn,

How its growth is fraught with suff'ring,

Midst environment so stern;

How unlike the untamed flowers

Growing in the wilderness

In a maze of wild confusion,

Making patterns numberless.

But the blossoms of the grape vine

Without glory are and small;

Though they do have some expression,

They are hardly seen withal.

But a day since they have flowered

Into fruit the blooms have grown;

Never may they wave corollas

With luxuriant beauty shown.

To a post the vine is fastened;

Thus it cannot freely grow;

When its branches are extended,

To the trellis tied they go.

To the stony soil committed,

Drawing thence its food supply;

It can never choose its own way,

Or from difficulty fly.

Oh, how beautiful its verdure,

Which in spring spreads o'er the field.

From life's energy and fulness

Growth abundant doth it yield.

Till it's full of tender branches

Twining freely everywhere,

Stretching `gainst the sky's deep azure

Tasting sweetly of the air.

But the master of the vineyard

Not in lenience doth abide,

But with knife and pruning scissors

Then would strip it of its pride.

Caring not the vine is tender,

But with deep, precision stroke

All the pretty, excess branches

From the vine are neatly broke.

In this time of loss and ruin,

Dare the vine self-pity show?

Nay, it gives itself more fully

To the one who wounds it so,

To the hand that strips its branches,

Till of beauty destitute,

That its life may not be wasted,

But preserved for bearing fruit.

Into hard wood slowly hardens

Every stump a bleeding shoot,

Each remaining branch becoming

Clusters of abundant fruit.

Then, beneath the scorching sunshine,

Leaves are dried and from it drop;

Thus the fruit more richly ripens

Till the harvest of the crop.

Bowed beneath its fruitful burden,

Loaded branches are brought low--

Labor of its growth thru suff'ring

Many a purposed, cutting blow.

Now its fruit is fully ripened,

Comforted the vine would be;

But the harvest soon is coming,

And its days of comfort flee.

Hands will pick and feet will trample

All the riches of the vine,

Till from out the reddened wine-press

Flows a river full of wine.

All the day its flow continues,

Bloody-red, without alloy,

Gushing freely, richly, sweetly,

Filling all the earth with joy.

In appearance now the grape vine

Barren is and pitiful;

Having given all, it enters

Into night inscrutable.

No one offers to repay it

For the cheering wine that's drunk,

But `til stripped and cut e'en further

To a bare and branchless trunk.

Yet its wine throughout the winter

Warmth and sweetness ever bears

Unto those in coldness shiv'ring,

Pressed with sorrow, pain, and cares.

Yet without, alone, the grape vine

Midst the ice and snow doth stand,

Steadfastly its lot enduring,

Though `tis hard to understand.

Winter o'er, the vine prepareth

Fruit again itself to bear;

Budding forth and growing branches,

Beauteous green again to wear;

Never murmuring or complaining

For the winter's sore abuse,

Or for all its loss desiring

Its fresh off'ring to reduce.

Breathing air, untainted, heavenly,

As it lifts its arms on high,

Earth's impure, defiled affections

Ne'er the vine may occupy.

Facing sacrifice, yet smiling,

And while love doth prune once more,

Strokes it bears as if it never

Suffered loss and pain before.

From the branches of the grape vine

Sap and blood and wine doth flow.

Does the vine, for all it suffered,

Lost, and yielded, poorer grow?

Drunkards of the earth and wanderers,

From it drink and merry make.

From their pleasure and enjoyment

Do they richer thereby wake?

Not by gain our life is measured,

But by what we've lost `tis scored;

`Tis not how much wine is drunken,

But how much has been outpoured.

For the strength of love e'er standeth

In the sacrifice we bear;

He who has the greatest suff'ring

Ever has the most to share.

He who treats himself severely

Is the best for God to gain;

He who hurts himself most dearly

Most can comfort those in pain.

He who suffering never beareth

Is but empty “sounding brass”;

He who self-life never spareth

Has the joys which all surpass.