tell
more and better.

Sometimes I'm asked, "How can I have more faith?" Well, not by thinking
about your faith. Not by books or definitions chiefly, however they may
help some. I can tell you how: _Follow where the Master's quiet voice is
clearly calling._ Go where it is plain to you that that pierced hand is
leading.

"Ah! but the way is a bit narrow," you think. "And it's steep. There are
sharp-edged stones under foot. And those bushes are growing rank on both
sides narrowing the path. And thorns scratch and hurt and sting. This
other road where I am now--this is a good Christian road. My Christian
brothers are here. I'd rather stay here."

And so you _stay_. You don't _say_ "no" to the calling voice. You simply
_act_ "no." No wonder you get confused and tangled. It's only in the
path of following clear leading that there comes sweetest peace, with no
nagging doubts and mental confusion. There only will you have more
faith, know more of Him, touch with whom is the realest faith. And so
only will the witness be told out to the crowd on the street of your
life, of the power and satisfying peace of this Jesus.

This is the witnessing we're sent to do. And the crowds crowd to listen,
when it's given. This is the way _the_ Witness did. He followed the
clear Father-voice, though the road led straight across the regular
roads through thorn hedges and thick underbrush. Should not the servant
tread it still?

The word that John uses here underneath our English word _witness_ is
the word from which our English word _martyr_ comes. And martyr has
come to mean one who gives his life clear out in a violent way for the
truth he believes. But, do you know, that is easy. "Easy?" You say,
"Surely not, you're certainly wrong there." No, you are right. It is not
easy. To face a storm of lead, or feel the sharp-edged blade, or yield
to the eating flame,--that is never easy.

But this is what I mean. There's the heroic in it, and that helps. You
brace yourself for it. The terrible crisis comes. You pull together and
pray and resolutely, desperately, face it. A little while, and it's
over. You've been true in the sharp crisis. You have taken a place with
the noble army of martyrs. And we who hear of it have a martyr's halo
about your head.

But there's something immensely harder to do. Without making a whit less
than it is the splendid courage of martyrdom, there's something that
takes immensely more courage, and a deeper longer-