"We are often the last to see how noble are our opportunities, to feel how inspiring the voices that call us to high duties and productive sacrifice: and while we loiter on in the track of drowsy habit, esteeming our lot common and profane, their are better hearts looking on, and burning within them to stand on the spot where we stand, to seize its hopes and be true to all its sacredness." Arthur Benson.

  My oldest son sent me a video of my 1 1/2 year old Great granddaughter singing Jesus loves Me.
What a joy to be reared in a loving Christian home, and when I saw this picture it just made me well up. I see a confidence in this little girl, a confidence I believe my Great granddaughter will have when she calls on that Royal telephone, knowing He awaits for her every word and cry.

The voice in God's Silence.

 I've found a new author that resonates with me, George Matheson, and I think this quote sums up the needs of today's church clearer than about anything I've heard in a long time. 

  "There is a revelation in the silence. There are times when the voice of God dies upon the height, and here is no testimony from the mountaintop. We call, but He answers not; we question, but there is not a reply. Yet there is a substitute; the voice of God is followed by the form of man. I come down from the Divine speculation to the human sympathy. God hides himself that I may see my brother.

It is a glorious descent. On the top of the mountain earth seems very small. Its crosses dwindle in the light of eternity. I am in danger of becoming unsympathetic to common pain. The cries of the weary are lost in the joyous songs of the redeemed. Therefore, in good time my Father comes to me in a chariot of silence. He veils Himself from my sight. He shuts the doors of the upper sanctuary. He throws a cloud over the former glory. He forces me to look down instead of up. He leads me from the crown to the cross - from the opened heaven to the imprisoned earth. He shows me Jesus alone- without His entourage, without His pomp, without His kingdom -- sinking with the pale face under the weight of human woe. The silence of God reveals Man.

  You, who are beating in vain against the problems of eternity, turn aside and be free. God's silence is a voice. It forbids you to stand gazing up into heaven. It calls you away from the mountaintop to the plain: from the Divine search to the human pity. It teaches you meekness by the absence of vision. Obey the silence of God. Go down to accompany him in the agony of man for man." George Matheson.

  "The exquisite quiet of this room! I have been sitting in utter idleness, watching the sky, viewing the shape of golden sunlight upon the carpet, which changes as the minutes pass, letting m eye wander from one framed print to another, and along the ranks of my beloved books. Within the house nothing stirs. In the garden I can hear singing of birds, I can hear the rustle of their wings. And thus, if it pleases me, I may sit all day long, and into the profounder quiet of the night.....
There is not the remotest possibility of any one's calling upon me, and that I should call upon any one else is a thing undreamt of. I owe a letter to a friend; perhaps I shall write it before bedtime; perhaps I shall leave it till tomorrow morning. A letter of friendship should never be written save when the spirit prompts.
I have not yet looked at the newspaper. Generally I leave it till I come back from my walk; it amuses me to see what the noisy world is doing, what self-torments men have discovered; what new forms of vain toil, what new occasions of peril and strife. I grudge to give the first freshness of the morning mind to things so bad and foolish." George Gissing.

  "Where there is wealth, equipage and splendor, we are ready to call that many happy; but we see not the vexing disquietudes of his soul: and when we spy a person in ragged garments, we form a despicable opinion of him too suddenly; we can hardly think that he is either happy or wise, our judgment is so biased by outward and sensible things. It was through the power of this prejudice that the Jews rejected our blessed Savior; they could not allow themselves to believe that the man who appeared as the son of a carpenter was also the Son of God. And because St. Paul was of little stature, a mean presence, and his voice contemptible, some of the Corinthians were tempted to doubt whether he was inspired or not.

This prejudice is cured by a longer acquaintance with the world, and a just observation that things are sometimes better and sometimes worse than they appear to be. We ought therefore to restrain our excessive forwardness to form our opinions of persons or things before we have opportunity to search into them more perfectly." Isaac Watts.

  I love this picture because it reminds me of times when someone jumped into my arms, maybe even clumsily, and I was taken back by their outpouring of love and appreciation; Oh God, may it happen more often!

  Adversity, though none of us would ask for it, brings out our best, and from it we grow and mature. And when Jesus brings us those who are heavy laden and facing life's greatest trials, so we can love, encourage and help them in their deep adversity; we encounter problems so complex, lives so tangled with sorrow, sin and tragedy, that we soon see the miraculous hand of Christ working miracles to make a way, where there simply is no way.

Last night I witnessed that very thing at the jail where a thirtyish woman joined our service in her wheel chair. As the crush of people streamed in I recognized her face and mentioned it to her and she replied, "yes, I was here five years ago, but I was taller then." At first that took me by surprise and I didn't know what she meant, but as she wheeled in the room I saw she had no legs from the knees down. I later noticed she only had nubs where fingers once were.  While swimming in the Clackamas River with friends she scratched her leg on a rock, nothing serious, but it developed into the life threatening, flesh eating bacteria which ravaged her body and nearly took her life.

  Now there she sat, and after service I talked to this smiling, composed, mature young woman. I was immediately drawn to her warm and gracious charm; such strength of character was displayed as she recounted her tragedy and her long struggle, both physically and emotionally, over the last five years. When she attended the meeting five years ago she was just beginning to listen to the things of God, being raised an agnostic, now she sits a true believer.

  I woke this morning with thoughts of her swirling in my mind, and as I consider all the amazing people Jesus has introduced me to over my Christian life, in the most unlikely places, like the jail, the nursing homes, missions and rehab organizations, I remember the promise Jesus gives us --          

"Give, and you will receive. Your gift will return to you in full--pressed down, shaken together to make room for more, running over, and poured into your lap. The amount you give will determine the amount you get back."

 "One of the reasons that we struggle spiritually, is because we live too exclusively with our equals; the weak herding the weak, the strong meeting with the strong; the rich surrounding themselves with the rich, and the taught fearing the more taught. We associate with those who think like we think, feel our feelings, live our life: we read the books which repeat our tastes, justify our opinions, confirm our admirations: we encourage each other in laughing at the excellence to which we are blind, and disbelieving the truth to which we have never opened our reason too, and shuffling away from the affections and obligations to which we have distaste." Martineau.