The Golden Key:
A Pilgrimage of Prayer
By Jeanne Page
Inspired by the Sermons of Charles H. Spurgeon
Copyright 2010 Jeanne Page
Contents
Introduction
Chapter One - The Summons
Chapter Two - Before the Throne
Chapter Three - The Golden Key
Chapter Four - The King's Garden
Chapter Five - The King's Vineyard
Chapter Six - Voices on a Mountain of Stone
Chapter Seven - The Lonely Wait
Chapter Eight - The Friend in the Furnace
Chapter Nine - The Golden Bowls and the New Song
Discussion (by Chapter) of "The Golden Key" parable, or "Things I've Learned About Prayer That Somehow Worked Their Way Into This Story"
Discussion Chapter One - The Summons
Discussion Chapter Two - Before the Throne
Discussion Chapter Three - The Golden Key
Discussion Chapter Four - The King's Garden
Discussion Chapter Five - The King's Vineyard
Discussion Chapter Six - Voices on a Mountain of Stone
Discussion Chapter Seven - The Lonely Wait
Discussion Chapter Eight - The Friend in the Furnace
Discussion Chapter Nine - The Golden Bowls and the New Song
List of Sermons by Charles H. Spurgeon that inspired this Parable
About the Author
Introduction
Welcome to The Golden Key: A Pilgrimage of Prayer! My prayer is that your relationship with Your King will deepen as a result of this journey.
The first nine chapters of this book comprise the story--the parable of 'The Servant Girl' and her journey after receiving The Golden Key from her King. At the end of each chapter you will find a series of questions for reflection concerning the main points of the parable, so that you may take a moment or two to consider what you have just read. As you will see, the parable is simply an opportunity to enjoy taking this pilgrimage of prayer alongside The Servant Girl. For those who want to explore the topic of prayer more deeply, though, the discussion portion will enhance your understanding of the main points brought out in the story. I like to call them "Things I've learned about prayer that somehow worked their way into this story."
Before you begin on this prayer journey, though, I've included some questions for you to mull over for yourself--a chance to consider what you really do believe about prayer. May you be drawn into the Throne Room of The King as you take these first steps on your journey--your own pilgrimage of prayer.
Questions for Reflection
As a child, what were you taught about prayer?
As an adult, how has your understanding of prayer changed?
Describe your prayer life at its weakest point.
What puzzles you about prayer?
What are common struggles that we all face concerning prayer?
What keeps us from a deeper prayer life?
What can you imagine will happen if God deepens your prayer life?
What misconceptions have you held about prayer?
What is mysterious about prayer?
What do you think it means to be a prayer warrior?
What is the most profound thing God has taught you about prayer?
What is your deepest desire concerning prayer?
Chapter One
The Summons
Once upon a time…
…the heavens exhaled a warm and balmy breath. Wide clouds like river barges, floated lazily on the misty stream. The celestial current, now heavy and saturated by the ferries of fog, flowed lower still. With a sudden gust, the zephyr cascaded over an invisible edge like a frothy, veiled waterfall in the sky, leaving the clouds hovering above watching, and giving approval to its descent.
Downward it swirled, gaining momentum, dipping playfully-- darting here and there among the sea of Aspens. The trees, like an appreciative audience with their flat leafy hands stretched to the sky clapping with joy. With a roar of ovation the forest cheered it’s approval of the whirling dance—an untamed tempest.
And then away the wind dashed, now like a herd of wild stallions with hooves pounding across an open plain, gathering strength and speed and force, then leaping into the salt sea, kicking up the white foamy caps, running headlong into the thick, wide canvass of the sail, dragging the powerless boat beneath it forward, always forward. For hours and miles the black steeds of storm galloped across the waves.
With its energy spent, the wind slowed at last as it approached land once more. With puffs of air it blew the dust from cracks and crevasses, polishing twisted cobblestone lanes, flowing silent and unseen through the quiet village.
Still it slowed and now but a breath again, it glided like a dove, with a whisper of it’s wing tips rustling along the edge of the curtains as it passed through the open window. The breeze seemed to hover above the sleeping girl circling and descending until it’s soft feathers brushed against her heart and then melted into it.
The Servant Girl stirred, but did not awaken.
In sleep she smiled as the vision came to her…
The warmth of the morning sun flooded the courtyard where she knelt as she did every morning. A flat stone sprinkled with fine yellow-white dust rested before her. She dug her hand deep into the worn gunny sack beside her and scooped a mound of corn kernels onto the waiting surface. With a smaller stone, round and polished, and safely cradled in both palms of her hands, she began the process of grinding the kernels into powder. Back and forth she worked the flour between the two stones, just as she did every morning. But this was not like every morning. A shadow moved between her and the sun, gifting her with respite from the heat. She looked up in question at the source of the cool shade upon her and when she raised her eyes she beheld The One she had not expected—not this morning or any other morning--the High King, and Ruler of all.
His form was but a silhouette, for the sun’s rays behind Him seemed to burst forth like brilliant swords of light. She was blinded looking up at Him, and frustrated that she could not gaze upon His face for He was more like a shadow ablaze before her. The courtyard, her work, all sights and sounds melted into nothing while she knelt silently in His presence. She scarcely breathed as He gazed down on her for just a whisp of a moment. Something mysterious swirled within--something she couldn’t explain. A secret and noble stirring in her heart intensified in to a burning hunger that she had never before experienced. Oh she longed to see His face!
He stood in silence, yet somehow she heard His Voice. She was sure He had spoken to her, but she felt that she could not quite make out what He had said. She shielded her eyes with her hand, wishing that she could see Him clearly. She desperately longed for Him to speak again yet she dare not ask it of Him. He seemed to expect something of her, but then He turned and simply walked away. Her heart broke as she watched Him leave and she yearned to run after Him, to look full and unheeded into His face, to beg Him to stay, to plead for Him to speak to her again.
She had only met The King once when she was a very little girl, and although she had spent most of her life in His service working in the royal palace, she had never again had a close encounter with Him…until now. Like all of His servants, she had chosen to serve Him in any way that she could. She had fallen in love with Him as a little girl, and through the years she had been taught that He was a Good King: that He was a Loving King, and that He was a Just King. There were so many things she had learned about Him, but at that moment she found herself longing for something more. She didn’t want to just know about Him. She wanted to know Him. She wanted to love Him as a true Servant loves her King. And she wanted all that she did each day to be of true service to Him. Her heart bu
rned for a deeper encounter—a relationship that she knew she was unworthy of wishing for. As she watched Him leave she felt the urge again to follow Him before this opportunity passed, yet He was The King, and she, the servant, and He was so very far away already…and moving further away still….
“Come!” The Voice whispered in the dark, and the curtains fluttered once more.
Something in the quiet command caused a quickening in her heart.
The bright colors of her vision blurred and faded as the Servant Girl wrestled her way to wakefulness. Her drowsy lids lifted, but the room was still clothed in black. She ran the back of her hand over her dream filled eyes and struggled to focus on the shadows of grey that lingered at her bedside. For a flash of a moment the silhouette reminded her of the one she had just seen and she thought she must still be dreaming.
“Come!” He said again.
Alert at last, but confused, she sat up in her bed. “What? Come where?” she stammered. “Who….?”
The Voice was quiet but insistent. “The King has summoned you. Quickly! You must come now. Dress yourself. I wait in the hall.”
She heard the hinges of the door creak as it opened.
“But dawn is still hours away…” She struggled to make sense of this sudden intrusion.
“The King is about His business at all hours.” He replied. “Come—now.” And the door creaked again as it closed behind Him.
The King had summoned her? Was she dreaming still? With trembling fingers she lit the small oil lamp by her bed. The dream continued to haunt her as she changed from her nightclothes to the work clothes she wore daily as a servant in the Great Palace. There must be a mistake, she thought. Why would The King send for her? She was sure that He didn’t even know who she was. Yes, she was quite sure, that the One who had summoned her was in error. She must explain to Him that someone had given Him the wrong information. Never before had such an order come to her and never in the dark of night.
Dressed now and with the lamp in her hand she opened the door to a momentary breeze which caused the flame in the little glass globe to flicker and dance. “You won’t need that--you can leave it here,” He said, and His words alone were like a puff of wind, extinguishing the glow of the lantern. It was true, a source of light emanated from the direction of His Voice. As she obediently replaced the lamp on the table she whispered, so as not to wake others still sleeping in the servant’s quarters. “There must be some mistake…” she began.
“There is no mistake,” He insisted. “Come with Me.”
Burning torches in wall mounts dimly lit the corridor and as He glided forward she fell in line behind Him. Through a maze of hallways He led her, turning down one, passing several open doors, then turning down another, more open doorways, and another hall, and another until she had completely lost her bearings. “Where are we going?” she asked, trying to keep up with His quick steps.
“To The Throne Room.”
She gasped and her feet were like stone, immoveable. “The Throne Room?”
“Yes,” He said without hesitation, and without slowing His pace.
She shook herself to break free from her momentary paralysis and hurried to catch up with Him. “But I’ve never been there!” she cried. “I thought perhaps I was to prepare food for you to carry to Him, or clean a room for His use…”
His only response was to turn still another corner into another hallway.
“I’m just a Servant,” she continued. “I’ve never even been outside the servant quarters—not anywhere near where the King works and lives!” She was near panic now and the threat of tears stung her eyes. “What does He want with me?”
He finally stopped and waited for her to catch up to Him. “He has summoned you for a task.” He started forward again, though slower now and asked, “Are you not pleased that you’ve been chosen for an audience with Him?”
Pleased? Just moments ago she dreamed of the opportunity to be in The King’s presence. Now, with the reality before her and just minutes away…was she really pleased? She was terrified. How could she be pleased?
She hesitated, careful to choose words that would not offend. “I know I should be,” she admitted. She should indeed be pleased, but she knew in all honesty, she was not. Like a small child, confessing her disobedience, she whispered, “I’m scared.”
“I know,” He assured her, and the kindness she detected gave her courage to say more.
“Please,” she begged. “I don’t understand…who am I, to stand before the King?”
She sensed a smile in His voice, and He agreed. “Standing before The King is indeed a difficult thing.” He slowed His pace even more and spoke earnestly. “Be calm, little one. Don’t you see? You may approach Him because I am with you.”
A cool peace, like a breeze, passed over her for just a moment and she almost believed that she could do this thing. But then she began to give way to her fears again and she blurted out, “I don’t think I can do this!” The tears that brimmed in her eyes fell now and in defeat, she cried, “I can’t go!”
He suddenly stopped and she could feel rather than see the intensity of His expression.
“Shhh….” He said. A new fear crept into her. She feared that she had offended Him with her refusal and for some reason this frightened her even more than the thought of going before the King. She dared not move, but waited in trepidation for His reprimand.
“Listen to me,” He said. She held her breath, searching for a hint of anger in His response
knowing that she deserved to be dismissed, or worse, for her insolence. But He did not respond in anger. He spoke to her kindly and she was able to exhale again. “Pay close attention,” He said, “for this is most important and you must not forget it.”
Though still skittish of heart, she obeyed Him and gave full attention to His words. “You must understand—He is your King.” He waited for His message to sink deep in her heart. “He does not ask you. He commands you.” He commands you. Those words echoed in her mind. He was her King and He had commanded her to come. How could she think of doing anything but obey? As frightened as she was she knew she had no other choice. No choice that wouldn’t haunt her for her whole life. If she allowed her fears to keep her from this moment, she would regret it for the rest of her days. No…disobedience was not an option, and she knew it. Upon this realization a warmth began to flow through her reaching all the way to her fingertips and she heard Him as if for the first time. “I will be with you the whole time, to give you courage.”
She looked at Him and managed a weak smile. He had forgiven her impertinence—had understood her reluctance.
“Do you trust me, little one?” He asked.
In that mysterious moment, she knew that she did, and nodded meekly. “But what will I say to Him?” she asked. She knew she was not a noble woman or one who might know how to converse with a King. What was the proper way to approach Him? She so wanted to please Him and not insult or anger Him. “Do I speak of my daily duties in His Kingdom? How I sweep the steps, and grind the cornmeal, and bake the daily bread?” Her countenance fell. “These things are all I know….what could I possibly have to say that He would want to hear?”
And now a joyful anticipation tinged His words, “Little one, The King always delights in hearing about the smallest details that concern His servants. But don’t be distracted by this tonight. Tonight, you have something specific to tell Him, don’t you?” Embarrassed, her chin dropped as she recalled her dream. “Never dare to be anything but completely truthful to Him,” He warned. “But speak honestly, is there not something deep in your heart that you wish to say to Him?”
It was just the foolish dream of a Servant Girl—one that she had no right to hope for. It was just a dream! She couldn’t really say such things to Him, could she? As she pondered these thoughts and before she could even answer, He nodded. “Yes. You can speak the deepest dreams of your heart to Him. It is exactly the reason He has summoned
you tonight. You can be sure that He will give you His full attention, and will answer you.”
She looked up, surprised that He should know her thoughts. “I have no right to ask such things of Him.”
He shook His head. “No, you are wrong. Not only do you have the right—you have the responsibility. Do you think that your dreams are your own? They are His dreams, gifted to you.”
“I’m shaking so,” she confessed. “I’m afraid words will fail me…I’m afraid I won’t be able to speak at all…”
He nodded, again, seeming to understand her heart even before she shared it. “If that should happen, I will speak for you,” He promised. “I will stay with you, and I pledge this to you: great blessings are in store for you, little one.”
She so wanted to believe Him! She wished that there was more time to question Him, to talk with Him, to be reassured…but that was impossible for at last, they had reached the door to The Throne Room.
He stopped and gave her a moment to take a deep breath. “Come boldly before Him, little one,” He encouraged. “Remember, it was He that summoned you.”
Effortlessly, He pushed the thick wooden doors open. “Come, child,” He said. “Be strong and courageous.”
The Servant Girl gasped.
Questions for Reflection
How many different descriptions of wind can you find in this chapter?
Why do you think the Holy Spirit is compared to wind?
Have you ever felt that the Holy Spirit was like the wind in your life? How?
What does it mean to you to "seek God's face?"
Is it possible to serve God and not seek His face?
Describe the Servant Girl's dream encounter with the High King. How is this like your own encounters with God?
Why was she frustrated with this encounter?
Describe the Servant Girl's first reactions to the Voice in the dark.
How is the Voice in the dark different from the King's Voice in the dream?
Describe the Servant Girl's range of emotions as she walks beside her Companion.
How many of these emotions have you experienced when approaching God in prayer?
What did the Servant Girl's Companion mean when He told her that her dreams were not her own, but the King's dreams gifted to her?
How would you describe the person of the Holy Spirit?
How would you describe His work in your life?
What do you think it means to be a "God-bearer?"
Why is the Servant Girl concerned about how to approach the King?