"Lord, give me the spirit of youth! Forbid that in my old age men should say, "He belongs to a former generation"! I want to belong to the newest generation. I want my spirit to light its torch not at yesterdays but at tomorrow's sky. I want to be numbered with the race that is coming in rather than the race that is going out. I can be so numbered; my spirit can be born again when I am old." George Matheson. 

"Your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace." Ep. 6:15

"Your feet shod with the preparation of the gospel of peace." Ep. 6:15

  "The verse says, "Shod with the preparation of the gospel," or, "shod with the preparedness to run on the message of peace." -- is that all we should expect from the Christian life? To simply prepare to run seems like a small thing. Why does not Paul say that the feet of the soldier of Christ have been hardened by the actual running; strengthened, not by the preparation, but by the proclamation, of the gospel? Because if he had said that, he would have cut off the largest part of the army. It is only a limited number of Christ's soldiers who are allowed to serve in the field; the most part have to be content with readiness to serve. The souls who do great things in the world are the minority; the mass can only will to do them. Now I may say, "How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of him that brings good tidings," and yet my own feet may not move. I may be forbidden to join the band of active workers. I may be, perhaps, an invalid. I may be struggling with poverty. I may be a victim of nerves. I may be cumbered with much household service. I may be hopelessly commonplace. In all these things my Father says to me "Stay at home." But, in spite of all these things, I have the will to go; I would go if these things did not forbid me; I do go in the spirit every day. I carry messaged with the feet of my heart. I am armed with the preparation to be a Christian soldier - with the readiness to serve if service were possible. I have given to God my will to give, and He has accepted it as my uniform; He has ordered me a soldier's pay.

  Isaac, the son of Abraham, are you lamenting the lack of your father's armor? Are you sighing that while he conquered nations, you are only permitted to dig wells? Nat, but your sigh is itself a complete set of armor to you. Your feet are shod with the preparation, the readiness to go. Yours is the red fire of Mount Moriah, though it is all within. Yours is the resistance unto blood, though no one sees the fight. Yours is the sacrifice unto death, although you did not die. In your wells of water God beholds the possibilities of the deep sea. 

In your petty strife’s God hears the roar of the great battle. In the troubles of your tiny pool, God imputes to you the wrestling of the angel. 

Your sphere is narrow by your heart is wide; stand forth and take your crown -- the crown of intentions unfulfilled, the prize for mighty deeds designed to do. Your monument is side by side with Abraham's: his has the inscription - "The man who journeyed"; yours has the tribute of a larger hope - The person who was prepared to go."  George Matheson.

"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!