Pastoral Resources

A certain family had two sons. The older said he must make a name for his family, so turned his face toward Parliament and fame. The younger decided to give his life to the service of Christ and turned his face toward China and duty. He was Hudson Taylor, the missionary, who died beloved and known on every continent. "But," someone wrote, "when I looked in the encyclopedia to see what the other son had done, I found these words, 'the brother of Hudson Taylor.' " It may be that some were inclined to ridicule him when he went to the mission field, but in the end, he was respected and admired. His mercifulness had not been in vain, even as far as the world was concerned. But the merciful also receive recognition and reward from God Himself. This takes place both in this world and, in its full measure, in the world to come.

A life once spent is irrevocable. It will remain to be contemplated through eternity.…The same may be said of each day. When it is once past, it is gone forever. All the marks which we put upon it, it will exhibit forever.…Each day will not only be a witness of our conduct, but will affect our everlasting destiny.…How shall we then wish to see each day marked with usefulness…! It is too late to mend the days that are past. The future is in our power. Let us, then, each morning, resolve to send the day into eternity in such a garb as we shall wish it to wear forever. And at night let us reflect that one more day is irrevocably gone, indelibly marked.

Well-known Broadway producer Jed Harris once became convinced he was losing his hearing. He visited a specialist, who pulled out a gold watch and asked “Can you hear this ticking?”

“Of course,” Harris replied.

The specialist walked to the door and asked the question again.

Harris concentrated and said, “Yes, I can hear it clearly.”

Then the doctor walked into the next room and repeated the question a third time. A third time Harris said he could hear the ticking.

“Mr. Harris,” the doctor concluded, “there is nothing wrong with your hearing. You just don’t listen.”

I remember when on the North Side I tried to reach a family time and again and failed. One night in the meeting, I noticed one of the little boys of that family. He hadn't come for any good, however; he was sticking pins in the backs of the other boys. I thought if I could get hold of him it would do good. I used always to go to the door and shake hands with the boys, and when I got to the door and saw this little boy coming out, I shook hands with him, and patted him on the head, and said I was glad to see him, and hoped he would come again. He hung his head and went away. The next night, however, he came back, and he behaved better than he did the previous night. He came two or three times after, and then asked us to pray for him that he might become a Christian. That was a happy night for me. He became a Christian and a good one. One night I saw him weeping. I wondered if his old temper had got hold or him again, and when he got up I wondered what he was going to say. "I wish you would pray for my mother," he said. When the meeting was over I went to him and asked, "Have you ever spoken to your mother or tried to pray with her?" "Well, you know, Mr. Moody," he replied, "I never had an opportunity; she don't believe, and won't hear me." "Now," I said, "I want you to talk to your mother to-night." For years I had been trying to reach her and couldn't do it.

So I urged him to talk to her that night, and I said "I will pray for you both." When he got to the sitting-room he found some people there, and he sat waiting for an opportunity, when his mother said it was time for him to go to bed. He went to the door undecided. He took a step, stopped, and turned around, and hesitated for a minute, then ran to his mother and threw his arms around her neck, and buried his face in her bosom. "What is the matter?" she asked--she thought he was sick. Between his sobs he told his mother how for five weeks he had wanted to be a Christian; how he had stopped swearing; how he was trying to be obedient to her, and how happy he would be if she would be a Christian, and then went off to bed. She sat for a few minutes, but couldn't stand it, and went up to his room. When she got to the door she heard him weeping and praying, "Oh, God, convert my dear mother." She came down again, but couldn't sleep that night. Next day she told the boy to go and ask Mr. Moody to come over and see her. He called at my place of business--I was in business then--and I went over as quick as I could. I found her sitting in a rocking chair weeping. "Mr. Moody," she said, "I want to become a Christian." "What has brought that change over you. I thought you didn't believe in it?" Then she told me how her boy had come to her, and how she hadn't slept any all night, and how her sin rose up before her like a dark mountain. The next Sunday that boy came and led that mother into the Sabbath-school, and she became a Christian worker.

Oh, little children, if you find Christ tell it to your fathers and mothers. Throw your arms around their necks and lead them to Jesus.

One day as a young lady was walking up the street, she saw a little boy running out of a shoemaker's shop, and behind him was the old shoemaker chasing him with a wooden last in his hand. He had not run far until the last was thrown at him, and he was struck in the back. The boy stopped and began to cry. The Spirit of the Lord touched that young lady's heart, and she went to where he was. She stepped up to him, and asked him if he was hurt. He told her it was none of her business. She went to work then to win that boy's confidence. She asked him if he went to school. He said, "No." "Well, why don't you go to school?" "Don't want to." She asked him if he would not like to go to Sunday school. "If you will come," she said, "I will tell you beautiful stories and read nice books." She coaxed and pleaded with him, and at last said that if he would consent to go, she would meet him on the corner of a street which they should agree upon. He at last consented, and the next Sunday, true to his promise, he waited for her at the place designated. She took him by the hand and led him into the Sabbath-school "Can you give me a place to teach this little boy?" she asked of the superintendent.

He looked at the boy, but they didn't have any such looking little ones in the school. A place was found, however, and she sat down in the corner and tried to win that soul for Christ. Many would look upon that with contempt, but she had got something to do for the Master. The little boy had never heard anybody sing so sweetly before. When he went home he was asked where he had been. "Been among the angels," he told his mother. He said he had been to the Protestant Sabbath-school, but his father and mother told him he must not go there any more or he would get a flogging. The next Sunday he went, and when he came home he got the promised flogging. He went the second time and got a flogging, and also a third time with the same result. At last he said to his father, "I wish you would flog me before I go, and then I won't have to think of it when I am there." The father said, "If you go to that Sabbath-school again I will kill you." It was the father's custom to send his son out on the street to sell articles to the passers-by, and he told the boy that he might have the profits of what he sold on Saturday. The little fellow hastened to the young lady's house and said to her, "Father said that he would give me every Saturday to myself, and if you will just teach me, then I will come to your house every Saturday afternoon." I wonder how many young ladies there are that would give up their Saturday afternoons just to lead one boy into the kingdom of God. Every Saturday afternoon that little boy was there at her house, and she tried to tell him the way to Christ. She labored with him, and at last the light of God's spirit broke upon his heart.

One day while he was selling his wares at the railroad station, a train of cars approached unnoticed and passed over both his legs. A physician was summoned, and the first thing after he arrived, the little sufferer looked up into his face and said, "Doctor, will I live to get home?" "No," said the doctor, "you are dying." "Will you tell my mother and father that I died a Christian?" They bore home the boy's corpse and with it the last message that he died a Christian. Oh, what a noble work was that young lady's in saving that little wanderer! How precious the remembrance to her! When she goes to heaven she will not be a stranger there. He will take her by the hand and lead her to the throne of Christ. She did the work cheerfully. Oh, may God teach us what our work is that we may do it for His glory.

Although you may have no commentaries at hand, continue to read the Word and pray; for a little from God is better than a great deal received from man. Too many are content to listen to what comes from men’s mouths, without searching and kneeling before God to know the real truth. That which we receive directly from the Lord through the study of His Word is from the “minting house” itself. Even old truths are new if they come to us with the smell of heaven upon them. - John Bunyan

A poor old widow, living in the Scottish Highlands, was called upon one day by a gentleman who had heard that she was in need. The old lady complained of her condition, and remarked that her son was in Australia and doing well.

“But does he do nothing to help you?” inquired the visitor.

“No, nothing,” was the reply. “He writes me regularly once a month, but only sends me a little picture with his letter.”

The gentleman asked to see one of the pictures that she had received, and found each one of them to be a draft for ten pounds. This is the condition of many of God’s children. He has given us many “exceeding great and precious promises,” which we either are ignorant of or fail to appropriate. Many of them seem to be pretty pictures of an ideal peace and rest, but are not appropriated as practical helps in daily life. And not one of these promises is more neglected that the assurance of salvation.

An open Bible places them within reach of all, and we may appropriate the blessing which such a knowledge brings.

The Lord receives His highest praise

From humble minds and hearts sincere;

While all the loud professor says

Offends the righteous Judge’s ear.

To walk as children of the day,

To mark the precept’s holy light,

To wage the warfare, watch, and pray,

Shew who are pleasing in His sight.

Not words alone it cost the Lord,

To purchase pardon for His own;

Nor will a soul by grace restored

Return the Saviour words alone.

With golden bells, the priestly vest,

And rich pomegranates border’d round,

The need of holiness express’d,

And call’d for fruit as well as sound.

Easy indeed it were to reach

A mansion in the courts above,

If swelling words and fluent speech

Might serve instead of faith and love.

But none shall gain the blissful place,

Or God’s unclouded glory see,

Who talks of free and sovereign grace,

Unless that grace has made him free!

A soldier was brought before his commanding officer and accused of communicating with the enemy. He had been seen emerging from an area where their troops were known to patrol. The poor man summed up his defense in a few words, stating that he had slipped away to spend an hour alone in prayer. “Have you been in the habit of spending an hour in private prayer?” demanded the officer. “Yes, Sir,” he replied. “Then” said his commander, “never in your life have you been in more need of prayer than now. Kneel down and pray aloud so we all may hear you.”

Expecting instant death, the soldier dropped to his knees and poured out his heart to God. His prayer immediately revealed an intimacy with the Heavenly Father. His earnest fluency, his humble appeal for divine intervention, and his obvious trust in one who was strong to deliver told unmistakably that he came regularly to the throne of grace.

“You may go,” said the officer. “No one could have prayed that way without a long apprenticeship; the fellows who have never attended drill are always ill at ease for the review.

The life of man is a long march through the night, surrounded by invisible foes, tortured by weariness and pain, toward a goal that few can hope to reach and where none can tarry long. One by one as they march our comrades vanish from our sight, seized by the silent orders of omnipotent death. Brief and powerless is man’s life. On him and all his race the slow, sure doom falls, pitiless and dark. Blind to good and evil, reckless of destruction, omnipotent matter rolls on its relentless way. For man, condemned today to lose his dearest, tomorrow himself to pass through the gates of darkness, it remains only to cherish, ere yet the blow falls, the lofty thoughts than ennoble his little day.

Bertrand Russell

The son of a rich father forsook his fine home for a life of crime and immorality, bringing disgrace to his family and causing his father many years of deep sorrow. One day he learned of his father's death and decided to return home at once. He wanted to be present at the reading of the will to see if he had been left anything. He thought possibly his father out of kindness had bequeathed him something. Together, with other members of the family, he assembled at the lawyer's office to listen to the reading of the will. The first part of it was a long recital of his son's sins. Father had set them down carefully, one by one, expressing the grief of heart which he had borne for so many years. The son became more and more restless as he heard that sad story of his evil doings. He began to fidget and fuss in his seat, obviously disgusted with the whole proceedings. Finally, he could stand it no longer and grabbed his hat, rose to his feet, stomped out of the room, and slammed the door behind him. But he left too soon. For the second part of the will said that his father had left him ,000. He could not subsequently be located and thus never got the money for the simple reason that he declined to hear about the sins which he refused to confess. He lost his inheritance.

Some pastors preach “longhorn sermons,” a point here, a point there, and a lot of bull in between.

A Christmas candle is a love thing;

It makes no noise at all,

But softly gives itself away;

While quite unselfish, it grows small.

One Sunday morning in 1865, a black man entered a fashionable church in Richmond, Virginia. When Communion was served, he walked down the aisle and knelt at the altar. A rustle of resentment swept the congregation. How dare he! After all, believers in that church used the common cup.

Suddenly a distinguished layman stood up, stepped forward to the altar, and knelt beside the black man. With Robert E. Lee setting the example, the rest of the congregation soon followed his lead.

A man so various, that he seem’d to be

Not one, but all mankind’s epitome:

Stiff in opinions, always in the wrong;

Was everything by starts, and nothing long;

But, in the course of one revolving moon,

Was chemist, fiddler, statesman, and buffoon.

- John Dryden

A large group of European pastors came to one of D. L. Moody’s Northfield Bible Conferences in Massachusetts in the late 1800s. Following the European custom of the time, each guest put his shoes outside his room to be cleaned by the hall servants overnight. But of course this was America and there were no hall servants.

Walking the dormitory halls that night, Moody saw the shoes and determined not to embarrass his brothers. He mentioned the need to some ministerial students who were there, but met with only silence or pious excuses. Moody returned to the dorm, gathered up the shoes, and, alone in his room, the world’s only famous evangelist began to clean and polish the shoes. Only the unexpected arrival of a friend in the midst of the work revealed the secret.

When the foreign visitors opened their doors the next morning, their shoes were shined. They never know by whom. Moody told no one, but his friend told a few people, and during the rest of the conference, different men volunteered to shine the shoes in secret. Perhaps the episode is a vital insight into why God used D. L. Moody as He did. He was a man with a servant’s heart and that was the basis of his true greatness.

Ian MacLaren, that great preacher of the Word of God, once visited a home and found an old Scotch woman standing in her kitchen, weeping. She wiped her eyes with the corner of her apron, and when the minister asked her what was the matter, she confessed, "I have done so little. I am so miserable and unhappy." "Why?" asked MacLaren. "Because I have done so little for Jesus. When I was just a wee girl, the Lord spoke to my heart, and I did want so much to live for Him." "Well, haven't you?" asked the minister. "Yes, I have lived for Him, but I have done so little. I want to be of some use in His service." "What have you done?" "Nothing. I have washed dishes, cooked three meals a day, taken care of the children, mopped the floor, and mended the clothes. That is all I have done all my life, and I wanted to do somthing for Jesus." The preacher, sitting back in the armchair, looked at her and smiled. "Where are your boys?" he inquired. She had four sons and had named them after Bible personalities. "Oh, my boys? You know where Mark is. You ordained him yourself before he went to China. Why are you asking? He is there preaching for the Lord." "Where is Luke?" questioned the minister. "Luke? He went out from your own church. Didn't you send him out? I had a letter from him the other day." Then she became happy and excited as she continued. "A revival has broken out on the mission station, and he said they were having a wonderful time in the service of the Lord!" "Where is Matthew?" "He is with his brother in China. Isn't it fine that the two boys can be working together? I am so happy about that. John came to me the other night-he is my baby and is only nineteen, but he is a great boy. He said, 'Mother, I have been praying and, tonight in my room, the Lord spoke to my heart about going to help my brother in Africa! But don't you cry, Mother. The Lord told me I was to stay here and look after you until you go home to glory.' " The minister looked at her: "And you say your life has been wasted in mopping floors, darning socks, washing dishes, and doing the trivial tasks. I'd like to have your mansion when we are called home! It will be very near the throne."

I refuse to be discouraged, to be sad, or to cry;

I refuse to be down-hearted, and here’s the reason why:

I have a God who’s mighty—who’s sovereign and supreme;

I have a God who loves me, and I am on His team.

He is all-wise and powerful—Jehovah is His name;

Though everything is changeable, my God remains the same.

My God knows all that’s happening—beginning to the end;

His presence is my comfort; He is my dearest Friend.

When sickness comes to weaken me—to bring my head down low;

I call upon my mighty God; into His arms I go.

When circumstances threaten to rob me of my peace,

He draws me close unto His breast where all my strivings cease.

When my heart melts within me, and weakness takes control,

He gathers me into His arms—He soothes my heart and soul.

The great “I AM” is with me—my life is in His hand;

The “God of Jacob” is my hope; it’s in His strength I stand.

I refuse to be defeated—my eyes are on my God;

He has promised to be with me as through this life I trod.

I’m looking past all circumstance to Heaven’s throne above;

My prayers have reached the heart of God—I’m resting in His love.

I give God thanks in everything—my eyes are on His face;

The battle’s His, the vict’ry mine; He’ll help me win the race.

What would you do to win one million dollars? Hope and Norm Davis from Tennessee had to answer that question in front of 12 million television viewers. Norm and Hope were selected to be contestants on the reality television show, The Amazing Race. On the program, teams raced from one destination to another using clues they gathered along the way. One team was eliminated on each program that aired.

Norm and Hope decided their appearance on the program was a win-win situation regardless of the outcome. For them deciding between one million dollars or keeping their integrity and values was no choice at all. Hope said, “We knew that our boys would be watching the show.” That and other factors kept the couple from straying from the Christian values and morals that guided them in everyday life.

The couple paid for their honesty though. They were eliminated on the second show. The Davises refused to stretch or bend the rules unlike other teams. They also stopped to help other contestants finish portions of the race. They were laughed at, and though they helped other teams along the way, were not given help when they needed it. The couple laughed when they said, “Everyone says we were too nice.”

Norm and Hope received little media coverage, noting that the show’s producers focused more attention on teams that bickered, used profanity, or acted deviantly. The couple says they put into practice what they learned all their life - do unto others as you would have them do unto you.

A minister must be learned, on pain of being utterlyincompetent for his work. But before and above being learned, a minister must be godly. Nothing could be more fatal, however, than to set these two things over against one another. recruiting officers do not dispute whether it is better for soldiers to have a right leg or a left leg: soldiers should have both legs.

The story is told of a man and an angel who were walking along together. The man was complaining about his neighbors. "I never saw such a wretched set of people," he said, "as are in this village. They are mean, greedy, selfish, and careless of the needs of others. Worst of all, they are forever speaking evil of one another." "Is it really so?" asked the angel. "It is, indeed," said the man. "Why, only look at this fellow coming toward us! I know his face, though I cannot remember his name. See his little shark-like, cruel eyes, darting here and there like a ferret's, and the lines of hardness about his mouth! The very droop of his shoulders is mean and cringing, and he slinks along instead of walking." "It is very clever of you to see all this," said the angel, "but there is one thing that you did not perceive-that is a mirror we are approaching."

A certain man lay on the operating table waiting for his anesthesia, and behold, he was greatly troubled, for he overheard his surgeon talking to a nurse in the next room saying, “I wish I had finished medical school, but after four years of college and one semester of medical school I was tired of studying and just couldn’t see going three more years to finish. Besides, you know, it seems like the fellows who go on just ‘dry up.’ They don’t have the same zeal and personal concern if they learn too much. I’ve seen it over and over again; a young fellow that really wants to help people goes to medical school and by the time he is finished he is ruined.”

Now it came to pass that the patient could not believe his ears. Nevertheless, the surgeon continued to speak in like manner saying, “Another thing I could not see was why I had to learn to read all that Latin. After all I talk to my patients in English; why should I learn Latin just to write prescriptions and understand pharmacology? I can always go to Wuest’s Word Studies in Pharmaceutics. I took Latin, but it took me too. Why, I have already forgotten more Latin than I ever learned.

“It seemed foolish to me to spend all that time learning medicine in medical school. Why should I take four years of Systematic Medicine and three semesters of Surgical Exegesis? When I have a medical problem, which is quite frequently, I just go to the commentators. J. Sidlow Baxter’s Explore the Medical Field almost always has the answers I need. If that doesn’t, then Halley’s Medical Handbook does.

“I know four years is not a very long time, but when I graduated from college the world needed heart surgeons so badly, and so many people were dying every day that I just had to get out into the work. After all, a call to be a doctor is all you need and the rest will fall into line. I know that many died, and many were in poor condition because of the poor surgical techniques of their surgeons (which is usually a reflection of their schooling), but I felt that I would be an exception to the case and my patients would get the best of care in spite of my training! Sometimes it is rather difficult since I just had one course in surgery, but I thought that if men like D.L. Moody could be such great surgeons without much education, so could I.”

By now the patient upon the operating table feared greatly and his countenance was fallen, for he thought within himself, “If this man knoweth not medicine, perchance I will die under his knife.” And he made ready to flee. But before he could leave, behold, the same surgeon again spoke saying, “Well, this morning we will be operating on the right ventricle. I better look in one of my books to see just which part that is. I always seem to forget where it is.

“Let’s see, I think I could find something on that in A.T. Robertson’s A Manual of Modern Medicine. No, I guess that will not do any good. It is the best book I have on heart operations, but there is so much Latin in it I cannot understand it. I guess I had better look it up in Ironside’s Medicine Simplified. There is not too much there, but that is about the best I can get. Of course there are very small discussions in Hyle’s Medicine As I See It, and Pink’s Gleanings from Medicine. “I wish I would have listened more to the two lectures I heard on the heart in pre-med classes, but I was working 40 hours a week and it was so hard to stay awake after working all night. However, I am glad I worked. My wife and I never had to do without anything while I was in school.

“Well, I think I know where the right ventricle is now. I have heard that in medical school they try to get you to do what they call ‘exegetical surgery’—to do everything according to a diagram, to have an outline and all—but I go more for ‘topical’ and ‘devotional’ surgery myself. I just like to read what I can from the accounts of other men’s operations and then go to the operating room and ‘let the spirit lead.’

“I’ve noticed too, that those more conventional medical school graduates don’t get as many patients as I do. Of course my results are not as lasting, but I contend that numbers ought to count for something. If I don’t have the best post-operative record, I still have one of the highest in numbers of operations.

“It was certainly a step forward when the state repealed the law requiring a medical school degree and a passing grade on the state exams for a license. All those educated doctors were just leading us downhill. Can you believe that some of them actually did not believe that warts are caused by frogs! It is true that some of the best books I have were written by men with a good education, but I certainly am glad that I got out of that medical school. I heard a professor say one day that the King James translation of the Medical Encyclopedia has several errors in it. Well, I told him that if the King James was good enough for Hippocrates, it was good enough for me.

“I’ve had so many other things to do this week that I just have not had much time to study for this operation. For one thing, I’ve had so much visiting to do. Visiting, you know, is what I do best. I visited over 50 patients yesterday alone. Well, nurse, I guess we better go in.”

But behold, when this vile surgeon and his nurse came into the room, the operating table was bare, for the patient had been filled with fear, and had fled. They sought the man, therefore, and when they had found him they rebuked him saying, “Why didst thou flee from our presence?” And the man answered, saying, “When I did hear what kind of preparation for thy work thou hadst, and how thou dost ridicule the medical school, I verily lost my confidence in thee. I will never return to thy operating table again.”

Now the interpretation of the parable is on this wise: the medical school is the seminary, the surgeon is the preacher, the operating is his preaching, the operating table is the pew, the Latin is Greek and Hebrew, the surgical procedure is homiletics, and the patient is the layman. And many are just about ready to get up and leave.

Dear God,

So far today I’ve done all right. I haven’t gossiped, I haven’t lost my temper, I haven’t been greedy, grumpy, nasty, selfish or over-indulgent. I’m very thankful for that. But in a few minutes, God, I’m going to get out of bed, and from then on, I’m probably going to need a lot of help. Amen

Are all your thoughts for this life and none for eternity? A young lady of twenty, a child of rich parents, was trained by her mother in all the arts of fashionable life. The daughter was happy amid the flatteries of her admirers, and the mother's pride was satisfied. Soon sickness came, and the minister was called in. He talked of death, judgment, and eternity, and the young lady trembled. In her dying hour, she called for her fine clothes. They were brought; looking up to her mother, she said, "These have ruined me. You never told me I must die. You taught me that my life in this world was to be happy and to enjoy the vanities of life. What could you mean? You knew I must die and go to judgment. You never told me to read the Bible or go to church unless to make a display of some new clothing. Mother, you have ruined me." A few moments later, she died.

I took a piece of plastic clay

And idly fashioned it one day;

And as my fingers pressed it still

It moved and yielded at my will.

I came again when days were past,

The form I gave it still it bore,

And as my fingers pressed it still,

I could change that form no more.

I took a piece of living clay,

And gently formed it day by day,

And molded with my power and art,

A young child’s soft and yielding heart.

I came again when days were gone;

It was a man I looked upon,

He still that early impress bore,

And I could change it never more.

Benjamin West was just trying to be a good babysitter for his little sister Sally. While his mother was out, Benjamin found some bottles of colored ink and proceeded to paint Sally’s portrait. But by the time Mrs. West returned, ink blots stained the table, chairs, and floor. Benjamin’s mother surveyed the mess without a word until she saw the picture. Picking it up, she exclaimed, “Why, it’s Sally!” And she bent down and kissed her young son.

In 1763, when he was 25 years old, Benjamin West was selected as history painter to England’s King George III. He became one of the most celebrated artists of his day. Commenting on his start as an artist, he said, “My mother’s kiss made me a painter.” Her encouragement did far more than a rebuke ever could have done.

Blessed is the mother who understands her child, for she shall inherit a kingdom of memories.

Blessed is the mother who knows how to comfort, for she shall possess a child's devotion.

Blessed is the mother who guides by the path of righteousness, for she shall be proud of her offspring.

Blessed is the mother who is never shocked, for she shall receive confidences.

Blessed is the mother who teaches respect, for she shall be respected.

Blessed is the mother who emphasizes the good and minimizes the bad, for in like manner the child shall make evaluations.

Blessed is the mother who treats her child as she would be treated, for her home shall be filled with happiness.

Blessed is the mother who answers simply the startling questions, for she shall always be trusted.

Blessed is the mother who has character strong enough to withstand the thoughtless remarks and resentments of the growing child, for again, in due time, she shall be honored.

While I was attending a meeting in a certain city sometime ago a lady came to me and said: "I want you to go home with me; I have something to say to you." When we reached her home, there were some friends there; After they had retired, she put her arms on the table, and tears began to come into her eyes, but with an effort she repressed her emotion. After a struggle she went on to say that she was going to tell me something which she had never told any other living person. I should not tell it now; but she has gone to another world. She said she had a son in Chicago, and she was very anxious about him. When he was young he got interested in religion at the rooms of the young Men's Christian Association. He used to go out in the street and circulate tracts. He was her only son, and she was very ambitious that he should make a name in the world, and wanted him to get into the very highest circles. Oh, what a mistake people make about these highest circles. Society is false; it is a sham. She was deceived like a good many more votaries of fashion and hunters after wealth at the present time. She thought it was beneath her son to go down and associate with those young men who hadn't much money. She tried to get him away from them, but they had more influence than she had, and, finally, to break his whole association, she packed him off to a boarding-school. He went soon to Yale College, and she supposed he got into one of those miserable secret societies there that have ruined so many young men; and the next thing she heard was that the boy had gone astray.

She began to write letters urging him to come into the Kingdom of God, but she heard that he tore the letters up without reading them. She went to him to try and regain whatever influence she possessed over him, but her efforts were useless, and she came home with a broken heart. He left New Haven, and for two years they heard nothing of him. At last they heard he was in Chicago, and his father found him and gave him $30,000 to start in business. They thought it would change him, but it didn't. They asked me when I went back to Chicago to try and use my influence with him. I got a friend to invite him to his house one night, where I intended to meet him, but he heard I was to be there, and did not come near, like a good many other young men, who seem to be afraid of me. I tried many times to reach him, but could not. While I was traveling one day on the New Haven Railroad, I bought a New York paper, and in it I saw a dispatch saying he had been drowned in Lake Michigan. His father came on to find his body, and, after considerable searching, they discovered it. All his clothes and his body were covered with sand. The body was taken home to that broken-hearted mother. She said "If I thought he was in heaven I would have peace." Her disobedience of God's law came back upon her.

So, my friends, if you have a boy impressed with the gospel, help him to come to Christ. Bring him in the arms of your faith, and He will unite you closer to him.

Make deaf my ears to slander that is told:

Silence my tongue to aught that is unkind;

Let only thoughts that bless dwell in my mind.

Let me so kindly be, so full of cheer,

That all I meet may feel Thy presence here.

O clothe me in Thy beauty, this I pray,

Let me reveal Thee, Lord, through all the day.

Once we assuage our conscience by calling something a “necessary evil,” it begins to look more and more necessary and less and less evil. - Sidney J. Harris

Prayer is the first thing, the second thing, the third thing necessary to a minister. Pray, then, my dear brother; pray, pray, pray.

A certain congregation was about to erect a new church edifice. The building committee, in consecutive meetings passed the following resolutions:

1. We shall build a new church

2. The new building is to be located on the site of the old one.

3. The material in the old building is to be used in the new one.

4. We shall continue to use the old building until the new one is completed.

C. S. Johnson shares this family lesson:

"My son, Michael, was four years old the night I found him sobbing uncontrollably in the hallway. Concerned, I knelt next to him and drew him close.

"'What's the matter, sweetheart? Are you hurt?'He shook his head and turned to me, but I was unprepared for his response.

"'Daddy said a bad word to me!'he sobbed. I almost laughed out loud. I had known my husband 12 years and had rarely heard him raise his voice. But Michael had heard him say something, and I was curious enough to want to know what it was.

"'Honey, what bad word did Daddy say?'And seeing a chance for sympathy, my sensitive four-year-old stopped crying and blurted out-'Obey!'

"I never think of that incident now without asking my Heavenly Father to keep me from believing, as my son did, that 'obey'is a bad word."

A certain prisoner, most cunning and brutal, was singularly repulsive even in comparison with other prisoners. He had been known for his daring and for the utter absence of all feeling when committing acts of violence. The chaplain had spoken to him several times but had not succeeded even in getting an answer. The man was sullenly set against all instruction. At last he expressed a desire for a certain book, but as it was not in the library the chaplain pointed to the Bible which was placed in his cell, saying, "Did you ever read that Book?" He gave no answer but looked at the good man as if he would kill him. The question was kindly repeated, with the assurance that he would find it well worth reading. "Mister," said the convict, "you would not ask me such a question if you knew who I am. What have I to do with a book of that sort?" The chaplain answered, "I know all about you and that's why I think the Bible is the book for you." "It would do me no good," he cried. "I am past all feeling." Doubling up his fist, he struck the iron door of the cell and said, "My heart is as hard as that iron; there is nothing in any book that will ever touch me."

"Well," said the chaplain, "you want a new heart. Did you ever read the covenant of grace?" To which the man answered sullenly by inquiring what he meant by such talk. His friend replied, "Listen to these words: 'A new heart also will I give you, and a new spirit will I put within you' " (Eze_36:26). The words struck the man with amazement. He asked to have the passage found for him in the Bible. He read the words again and again; and when the chaplain came back to him the next day, the wild beast was tamed. "Oh, sir," he said, "I never dreamed of such a promise! I never believed it possible that God would speak in such a way to men. If He gives me a new heart, it will be a miracle of mercy; and yet I think He is going to work that miracle upon me, for the very hope of a new nature is beginning to touch me as I never was touched before."

He came to my desk, with a quivering lip

The lesson was done

Have you a new leaf for me, teacher.

I have spoiled this one

I took his leaf, all soiled and blotted

And gave him a new one, all unspotted.

Then into his stirred heart I smiled

“Do better now my child.”

I went to the throne with a trembling heart

The year was done.

Have you a new year for me, Father

I have spoiled this one.

He took my year, all soiled and blotted

And gave me a new one, all unspotted

And into my tired heart He smiled,

“Do better now, my child.”

The program committee for a national barber's convention devised a graphic means of demonstrating the effectiveness of their profession. They found a social derelict on skid row with long, dirty hair. His face was unshaven and his clothes were ragged and filthy. His body reeked with odors of cheap liquor and filth.

The barbers cleaned him up. They gave him a bath, shampoo, shave, haircut and manicure. They liberally sprinkled talcum powder on him and added spicy cologne. He was dressed in a new suit and was presented before the convention as a changed man. He certainly looked the part. However, within a week the man was back on skid row, back in the gutter, back in his former pattern of living. The barbers altered his appearance, but their tonsorial services had not changed his inward nature.

Anyone who has the money to spend can put a man in a new suit, but only Christ can put a new man in the suit. "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come." Christ alters us from the inside out.

One time a former drunkard was praising God for taking away all his appetite for liquor. A physician argued with him, saying that he would have to have a new stomach in order to have the appetite for liquor removed. "Praise God!" said the former drunkard. "I knew I had a new heart, but this is the first time I knew I had a new stomach!" "Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new" (2Co_5:17).

Ruth E. Knowlton tells this on herself: "Years ago I lived in an apartment building in a large city. The building next door was only a few feet away from mine, and I could look across the alley into the apartment on the same floor as mine. There was a woman who lived there, whom I had never met, yet I could see her as she sat by her window each afternoon, sewing or reading.

"After several months had gone by, I began to notice that her windows were dirty. Everything was indistinct through her smudged windows. I would say to myself, 'I wonder why that woman doesn't wash her windows? They look dreadful!'

"One bright morning I decided to do my spring housecleaning and thoroughly cleaned my apartment, including washing the windows on the inside.

"Late in the afternoon when I was finished, I sat down by the window with a cup of coffee for a rest. What a surprise! Across the way, the woman sitting by her window was clearly visible. Her windows were clean!

"Then it dawned on me. I have been criticizing her dirty windows, but all the time I was observing them through my own dirty ones!"

Barnabas is actually a nickname. One has said, “A nickname is the heaviest stone you can throw at someone.” The first nickname was given to Esau. How did Barnabas encourage others?

(1) By his faith (Acts 11).

(2) By his friendship (Acts 11).

(3) By his giving (Acts 2).

(4) By his forgiving (Acts 15:35-41).

In a certain mountain village in Europe several centuries ago, a nobleman wondered what legacy he should leave to his townspeople. Finally, he decided to build a church for a legacy.

The complete plans for the church were kept secret until its completion. When the people gathered, they marveled at the church's beauty and its completeness. Following many comments of praise, an astute observer inquired, "But where are the lamps? How will the church be lighted?"

Without answer, the nobleman pointed to some brackets in the wall; he then gave to each family a lamp to be carried to the worship service and hung on the wall. "Each time you are here, the area where you are seated will be lighted," the nobleman explained. "Each time you are not here, that area will be dark. Whenever you fail to come to church, some part of God's house will be dark."

A candidate for church membership was asked, “What part of the Bible do you like best?” He said: “I like the New Testament best. Then he was asked, “What Book in the New Testament is your favorite?” He answered, the Book of the Parables, Sir.”

They then asked him to relate one of the parables to the membership committee. And a bit uncertain, he began… “Once upon a time a man went down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among thieves; and the thorns grew up and choked the man. And he went on and met the Queen of Sheba, and she gave that man, Sir, a thousand talents of silver, and a hundred changes of raiment. And he got in his chariot and drove furiously, and as he was driving along under a big tree, his hair got caught in a limb and left him hanging here! And he hung there many days and many nights. The ravens brought him food to eat and water to drink. And one night while he was hanging there asleep, his wife Delilah came along and cut off his hair, and he fell on stony ground. And it begin to rain, and rained forty days and forty nights. And he hid himself in a cave. Later he went on and met a man who said, “Come in and take supper with me.” But he said, “I can’t come in, for I have married a wife.” And the man went out into the highways and hedges and compelled him to come in! He then came to Jerusalem, and saw Queen Jezebel sitting high and lifted up in a window of the wall. When she saw him she laughed, and he said, “Throw her down out of there,” and they threw her down. And he said “Throw her down again,” and they threw her down seventy-times-seven. And the fragments which they picked up filled twelve baskets full! NOW, whose wife will she be in the day of the Judgment?”

The membership committee agreed that this was indeed a knowledgeable candidate!

A person who is "sanctified in Christ" is like the water spider which is a very peculiar insect. We are peculiar, also, to the environment in which we live. The water spider lives at the bottom of muddy pools and has the distinctive power of ascending to the surface of the pool and there surrounding itself with a tiny globule of air. Thus enveloped it descends to the sludge and ooze at the bottom of the pool and remains there unsullied by its environment until the air is exhausted. Then it rises again to the surface and the process is repeated. So those "sanctified in Christ" find spiritual rejuvenation in daily Bible reading and Christian fellowship, unsullied and undirtied by the hostile environment around them.

Life is like another parable from another land. A blind Indian beggar sat beside a road, fingering the rice in his little bowl. Wearing only a loin cloth, he sat in poverty beside a road that stretched into nowhere both ways. The scarce travelers occasionally gave him a little rice. One day he heard the thunder of a chariot in the distance. It was the grand entourage of the maharajah. This was a moment that had never come before. Surely the great one would stop and give him baskets of rice.

Indeed, the golden chariot of the maharajah stopped before the poor beggar. The great one stepped down and the beggar fell before him. Then the sky seemed to fall in. "Give me your rice," said the great one. A fearful, hateful, scowl masked the face of the beggar. He reached into his bowl and thrust one grain of rice toward the maharajah. "Is that all?" said the great one. The beggar spat on the ground, cursed, and threw him one more grain of rice. The great one turned, entered his chariot, and was gone.

The beggar-angry, empty, and crushed-fingered the remaining rice he had hoarded in his bowl. He felt something hard, different from the rice. He pulled it out. It was one grain of gold. He poured out his rice, caring nothing for it now. He found one other grain of gold. Had he trusted the great one, he could have had a grain of gold for every grain of rice.

Dear Lord… Thank you for this child that I call mine; not my possession but my sacred charge. Teach me patience and humility so that the best I know may flow in its being. Let me always remember, parental love is my natural instinct but my child’s love must ever be deserved and earned; That for love I must give love, That for understanding I must give understanding, That for respect, I must give respect; That as I was the giver of life, so must I be the giver always. Help me to share my child with life and not to clutch at it for my own sake. Give courage to do my share to make this world a better place for all children and my own.

There is a pastor, himself he cherished,

Who loved his position not his parish

So the more he preached

The less he reached

And this is why his parish perished.

This soul-weariness shines through a few lines of sarcasm one minister wrote in his journal:

If I wanted to drive a manager up the wall, I would make him responsible for the success of an organization and give him no authority. I would provide him with unclear goals, not commonly agreed upon by the organization. I would ask him to provide a service of an ill-defined nature, apply a body of knowledge having few absolutes, and staff his organization with only volunteers. I would expect him to work ten to twelve hours per day and have his work evaluated by a committee of 300 to 500 amateurs. I would call him a minister and make him accountable to God.

After a distinguished performing career, virtuoso violinist Jascha Heifetz accepted an appointment as professor of music at UCLA. Asked what had prompted his change of career, Heifetz replied: “Violin playing is a perishable art. It must be passed on as a personal skill; otherwise it is lost.”

We need to listen to this great musician. Living the Christian life is a highly personal experience. We can’t pull it off merely by watching skilled veterans “perform.” We need hands-on instruction.

A pastor I know, Stephey Belynskyj, starts each confirmation class with a jar full of beans. He asks his students to guess how many beans are in the jar, and on a big pad of paper writes down their estimates. Then, next to those estimates, he helps them make another list: their favorite songs. When the lists are complete, he reveals the actual number of beans in the jar. The whole class looks over their guesses, to see which estimate was closest to being right. Belynskyj then turns to the list of favorite songs. “And which one of these is closest to being right?” he asks. The students protest that there is no “right answer”; a person’s favorite song is purely a matter of taste. Belynskyj, who holds a Ph.D. in philosophy from Notre Dame asks, “When you decide what to believe in terms of your faith, is that more like guessing the number of beans, or more like choosing your favorite song?” Always, Belynskyj says, from old as well as young, he gets the same answer: Choosing one’s faith is more like choosing a favorite song. When Belynskyj told me this, it took my breath away. “After they say that, do you confirm them?” I asked him. “Well,” smiled Belynskyj, “First I try to argue them out of it.”

Once on a railway journey my father unintentionally perpetrated some slight infraction and was unmercifully bawled out by a minor train employee. I was young then and hotly told my father afterward that he should have given the man a piece of his mind.

My father smiled, “Oh,” he said, “if a man like that can stand himself all his life, surely I can stand him for five minutes.”

There’s a story about a kindergarten teacher who asked a boy what he was drawing. Without pausing to look up, he said, “A picture of God.” The teacher smiled and responded, “But nobody knows what God looks like.” The boy carefully put down his crayon, looked her squarely in the eye, and declared, “After I’m finished here they will.”

In a newly created nation in Africa, an elderly native was told that he was going to be taxed to support the government.

“Why?” he asked.

“To protect you from enemies, to feed you when you are hungry, to care for you when you are sick, and to educate your children,” he was told.

“I see,” said the old man. “It’s like I have this dog, and the dog is hungry. He comes begging to me for food. So I take my knife, cut off a piece of the poor dog’s tail and give it to him to eat. That, I believe is what this taxation is.”

Once the Devil was walking along with one of his cohorts. They saw a man ahead of them pick up something shiny. “What did he find?” asked the cohort. “A piece of the truth,” the Devil replied. “Doesn’t it bother you that he found a piece of the truth?” asked the cohort. “No,” said the Devil, “I will see to it that he makes a religion out of it.”

A Christian military officer, who visited the bedside of a dying soldier under his command, said to him, "I am going to ask you a strange question. Suppose you could carry your sins with you to heaven-would that satisfy you?" "The poor dying lad replied, "Why, sir, what kind of heaven would that be to me? I would be just like a pig in a parlor!" He was awakened to a sense of his lost state. The officer concluded, "The soldier was panting after a heaven of holiness, and was convinced if he died in his sin he would be quite out of his element in such a place of purity."

A young lawyer, an atheist, boasted that he was going west to locate some place where there were no churches, no Sunday schools, and no Bibles. Before the year was over, he wrote to a classmate, a young minister, begging him to come out and start a church. "Be sure to bring plenty of Bibles," he urged. "I have become convinced that a place without Christians, Sunday schools, churches, or Bibles is too much like hell for any living man to stay in."

Review: what I did right, wrong; strengths and weaknesses of opponents.

Renew: I can give up or go on. Recommit life to the Lord.

Redo: Implement your plan, get started.

Now it came to pass that a group existed who called themselves fishermen. And lo, there were fish in the waters all around. In fact, the whole area was surrounded by streams and lakes filled with fish. And the fish were hungry.

Week after week, month after month, and year after year, these who called themselves fishermen met in meetings and talked about their call to fish, the abundance of fish, and how they might go about fishing. Year after year they carefully defined what fishing means, defended fishing as an occupation, and declared that fishing is always to be a primary task of fishermen.

Continually, they searched for new and better methods of fishing and for new and better definitions of fishing. Further they said, “The fishing industry exists by fishing as fire exists by burning.” They loved slogans such as “Fishing is the task of every fisherman.” They sponsored special meetings called “Fishermen’s Campaigns” and “The Month for Fishermen to Fish.” The sponsored costly nationwide and worldwide congresses to discuss fishing and to promote fishing and hear about all the ways of fishing such as the new fishing equipment, fish calls, and whether any new bait had been discovered.

These fishermen built large, beautiful buildings called “Fishing Headquarters.” The pleas was that everyone should be a fisherman and every fisherman should fish. One thing they didn’t do, however: They didn’t fish.

In addition to meeting regularly, they organized a board to send out fishermen to other places where there were many fish. The board hired staffs and appointed committees and held many meetings to define fishing, to defend fishing, and to decide what new streams should be thought about. But the staff and committee members did not fish.

Large, elaborate, and expensive training centers were built whose original and primary purpose was to teach fishermen how to fish, the nature of fish, where to find fish, the psychological reactions of fish, and how to approach and feed fish. Those who taught had doctorates in fishology, but the teachers did not fish. They only taught fishing. Year after year, after tedious training, many were graduated and were given fishing licenses. They were sent to do full-time fishing, some to distant waters which were filled with fish.

Many who felt the call to be fishermen responded. They were commissioned and sent to fish. but like the fishermen back home, they engaged in all kinds of other occupations. They built power plants to pump water for fish and tractors to plow new waterways. They made all kinds of equipment to travel here and there to look at fish hatcheries. Some also said that they wanted to be part of the fishing party, but they felt called to furnish fishing equipment. Others felt their job was to relate to the fish in a good way so the fish would know the difference between good and bad fishermen. Others felt that simply letting the fish know they were nice, land-loving neighbors and how loving and kind they were was enough.

After one stirring meeting on “The Necessity for Fishing,” one young fellow left the meeting and went fishing. The next day he reported that he had caught two outstanding fish. He was honored for his excellent catch and scheduled to visit all the big meetings possible to tell how he did it. So he quit his fishing in order to have time to tell about the experience to the other fishermen. He was also placed on the Fishermen’s General Board as a person having considerable experience.

Now it’s true that many of the fishermen sacrificed and put up with all kinds of difficulties. Some lived near the water and bore the smell of dead fish every day. They received the ridicule of some who made fun of their fishermen’s clubs and the fact that they claimed to be fishermen yet never fished. They wondered about those who felt is was of little use to attend the weekly meetings to talk about fishing. After all, were they not following the Master who said, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men”?

Imagine how hurt some were when one day a person suggested that those who don’t catch fish were really not fishermen, no matter how much they claimed to be. Yet it did not sound correct. Is a person a fisherman if, year after year he never catches a fish? Is one following if he isn’t fishing?

In one of his lighter moments, Benjamin Franklin penned his own epitaph. He didn’t profess to be a born-again Christian, but it seems that he must have been influenced by Paul’s teaching of the resurrection of the body. Here’s what he wrote:

The Body of B. Franklin, Printer:

Like the Cover of an old Book

Its contents torn out,

And stript of its Lettering and Guilding,

Lies here, Food for Worms,

But the Work shall not be wholly lost:

For it will, as he believ’d,

Appear once more

In a new and more perfect Edition,

Corrected and amended by the Author.

A father, who attended church with his little boy, found fault with everything in the service. As he walked home, he criticized the minister, the sermon, the choir, and everything in general. The boy, who had noticed what his father put in the offering plate, said, "Well, Dad, what can you expect for a quarter?"

When Dr. Will H. Houghton was pastor of Calvary Baptist Church in New York City, a glib-tongued salesman came into his study and offered him some oil stocks that he said would make him a fortune. Dr. Houghton looked at the man and said in substance, "If this stock is as good as you say, why aren't you rich? You come in here in a shabby suit, with shoes run down at the heels, and expect me to believe you represent a going concern? I suggest you get into some line of work that produces representatives who inspire more confidence in their product."

This concept of authority as something that causes another person to “do what you want him to do” is reflected in most definitions. For instance, the Random House Dictionary of the English Language speaks of authority as “a power or right to direct the actions or thoughts of others. Authority is a power or right, usually because of rank or office, to issue commands and to punish for violations.” Again the root idea seems to be control or direction of the actions of others.

We see this same idea even in sophisticated examinations of authority. For instance, William Oncken, Jr., in a 1970 Colorado Institute of Technology Journal, gives an analysis of authority that suggests it is comprised of four elements:

1. The Authority of Competence: the more competent the other fellow knows you are, the more confident he will be that you know what you are talking about and the more likely he will be to follow your orders, requests, or suggestions. He will think of you as an authority in the matter under consideration and will feel it risky to ignore your wishes.

2. The Authority of Position: This component gives you the right to tell someone, “Do it or else.” It has teeth. “The boss wants it” is a bugle call that can snap many an office or shop into action.

3. The Authority of Personality: The easier it is for the other fellow to talk to you, to listen to you, or to work with you, the easier he will find it to respond to your wishes.

4. The Authority of Character: This component is your “credit rating” with other people as to your integrity, reliability, honesty, loyalty, sincerity, personal morals, and ethics. Obviously you will get more and better from a man who has respect for your character than from one who hasn’t.

Enthusiasm is one of the most powerful engines of success. When you do a thing, do it with your might. Put your whole soul into it. Stamp it with your own personality. Be active, be energetic, be enthusiastic and faithful, and you will accomplish your object. Nothing great was ever achieved without enthusiasm. - Ralph Waldo Emerson

Father, hear us, we are praying.

Hear the words our hearts are saying.

We are praying for our children.

Keep them from the powers of evil,

From the secret, hidden peril.

Father, hear us for our children.

From the worldling’s hollow gladness,

From the sting of faithless sadness,

Father, Father, keep our children.

Through life’s troubled waters steer them.

Through life’s bitter battles cheer them.

Father, Father, be thou near them.

And wherever they may bide,

Lead them home at eventide.

—Amy Carmichael

O God, our Heavenly Father, protect and bless us. Deepen and strengthen our love for each other day by day. Grant that by Thy mercy neither of us ever say one unkind word to the other.

Forgive and correct our faults, and make us constantly to forgive one another should one of us unconsciously hurt the other. Make us and keep us sound and well in body, alert in mind, tender in heart, devout in spirit. O Lord, grant us each to rise to the other’s best. Then we pray Thee add to our common life such virtues as only Thou canst give. And so, O Father, consecrate our life and our love completely to Thy worship, and to the service of all about us, especially those whom Thou has appointed us to serve, that we may always stand before Thee in happiness and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

This beautiful prayer was written by Bishop Slattery, soon after his marriage, to be used each day in their family devotions at home in Boston, Massachusetts.

We pray for children…

who put chocolate fingers everywhere,

who like to be tickled,

who stomp in puddles and ruin their new pants,

who sneak Popsicles before supper,

who erase holes in math workbooks,

who can never find their shoes.

And we pray for those

who stare at photographers from behind barbed wire,

who can’t bound down the street in a new pair of sneakers,

who never “counted potatoes,”

who are born in places where we wouldn’t be caught dead,

who never go to the circus,

who live in an X-rated world.

We pray for children

who bring us sticky kisses and fistfuls of dandelions,

who sleep with the dog and bury goldfish,

who hug us in a hurry and forget their lunch money,

who cover themselves with Band-Aids and sing off-key,

who squeeze toothpaste all over the sink,

who slurp their soup.

And we pray for those

who never get dessert,

who have no safe blanket to drag behind them,

who watch their parents watch them die,

who can’t find any bread to steal,

who don’t have any rooms to clean up,

whose pictures aren’t on anybody’s dresser,

whose monsters are real.

We pray for children

who spend all their allowance before Tuesday,

who throw tantrums in the grocery store and pick at their food,

who like ghost stories,

who shove dirty clothes under the bed and never rinse out the tub,

who love visits from the tooth fairy,

who don’t like to be kissed in front of the school bus,

who squirm in church and scream in the phone,

whose tears we sometimes laugh at

and whose smiles can make us cry.

And we pray for those

whose nightmares come in the daytime,

who will eat anything,

who have never seen a dentist,

who aren’t spoiled by anybody,

who go to bed hungry and cry themselves to sleep,

who live and move, but have no being.

We pray for children

who want to be carried,

and for those who must.

For those we never give up on,

and for those who don’t get a chance.

For those we smother,

and for those who will grab the hand of anyone kind enough to offer it.

Hear our cries, O God, and listen to our prayers.

Amen.

- Ina Hughes

Disturb us, Lord, when we are too well pleased with ourselves, when our dreams have come true because we have dreamed too little, when we arrive safely because we have sailed too close to the shore.

Disturb us, Lord, when with the abundance of things we possess, we have lost our thirst for the waters of life; having fallen in love with life, we have ceased to dream of eternity; and in our efforts to build a new earth, we have allowed our vision of the new Heaven to dim.

Disturb us, Lord, to dare more boldly, to venture on wider seas where storms will show your mastery; where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars. We ask you to push back the horizons of our hopes; and to push into the future in strength, courage, hope, and love.

- Sir Frances Drake

British writer Samuel Chadwick had this to say: “To pray as God would have us pray is the greatest achievement on earth. Such a prayer life costs. It takes time….All praying saints have spent hours every day in prayer….In these days, there is no time to pray; but without time, and a lot of it, we shall never learn to pray.” - H.G.B.

Two young men broke into a photo studio one Sunday night. They murdered the aged owner and robbed the cash drawer. Headlines of the crime appeared on the front page of Monday morning's papers. The two youths had been apprehended and charged with murder. Because their names seemed familiar to the secretary of a local church, she looked them up in the visitor's book. Sure enough, they had attended the church on Sunday morning and that night they committed murder! The pastor's subject that morning had been "An Educated Ministry." Only God knows what the end result might have been if the minister had preached on Christ's power to save and to change sinful hearts.

Two young men broke into a photo studio one Sunday night. They murdered the aged owner and robbed the cash drawer. Headlines of the crime appeared on the front page of Monday morning's papers. The two youths had been apprehended and charged with murder. Because their names seemed familiar to the secretary of a local church, she looked them up in the visitor's book. Sure enough, they had attended the church on Sunday morning and that night they committed murder! The pastor's subject that morning had been "An Educated Ministry." Only God knows what the end result might have been if the minister had preached on Christ's power to save and to change sinful hearts.

In a box in a jewelry store there were precious stones, sapphires, and diamonds; the beryl and the amethyst; and many others. Right in the center, according to the story, was a common looking pebble, and a man said to the clerk, "Why do you have that pebble there? If you saw it on the floor you would pick it up and throw it out the window." The clerk took the stone out of the box and said, "You do not know the beauty of this stone"; he held it and in two or three minutes you could not see the stone, but instead, all the colors of the rainbow, moving in such rapid succession they would almost dazzle you; but when the stone got cold the colors would vanish. You might place that stone on the windowsill on the hottest day and it would have no effect on it, but it would respond to peculiar moisture of the human hand to bring out its beauty.

That is what happens when we lie passively in the hand of God. All the beauty that is in us shows.