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T H E K I N G ' S B U S I N E S S
November, 1934
T he C hallenge of L eisure H ours W e sick people have so much leisure, unwelcome some times, but blessed beyond measure when rightly used. I often wonder whether you dear ones who are so active in His service are not sometimes too busy with doing. God’s voice is a still small voice, and we must listen in order to hear it. Or at times we only feel Him, resting quietly beneath His hand. O f course one o f the hardest things about being sick is a feeling o f uselessness. W e want to work for God. Can it be that we have an idea that God is needy, that our services are necessary to Him? Oh, it is indeed good to work for God, but it is better just to do His will, and it may be that it is not His will that all should work. Some day He will tell us about that. But there is one great ministry in which even we sick ones may share, and I thank God for that, the ministry o f prayer. It is a marvelous, a breath-taking thought, that I, lying here on my bed in my small room, may help set
above me, depth beyond depth o f velvet space. The branches o f an old elm tree were black against the sky, and the shadows o f leaves in the moonlight fell over me. The shadow o f a leaf is a marvelous thing, with all that it implies o f stationary laws, o f creation, of growth, o f God! I looked at them as though I had never seen them before. I saw so many wonders that night, wonders that God had made’ o f earth and sky and winds and trees. And always people passing, foosteps approaching and dying away, never realizing (how could they?) how won derful was freedom and strength. How my heart went out to these passers-by, each one more precious to God than all the wonders o f the night sky. And how surprised they would have been to know that some one, back in the shadows o f the porch, had prayed for them! Machine loads o f gaily laughing young people, small boys breath less from an evening game o f tag, bits o f conversation. A child begging, “ Daddy, carry me,” and a voice saying tenderly, “ Lovey, do the new shoes hurt your feet?” It made me think o f a tender Shepherd carrying the lambs
in operation the vast machinery o f God, may change the destiny o f a life, a world, may even hasten the day o f His appearing! Why don’t we pray more? Do you remember the old fairy stories about the magic carpet which would whisk one away to the edge o f the world, or about the wishing ring, which one had only to turn three times and a wish would come true? How we used to long for them, and how very sure we were that if we had them we would use them! And yet we Christians have something that far transcends, in wonder and power, any of- these things, and how often we fail to use i t ! Can it be that in our heart o f hearts we doubt its efficacy? What other explanation can there be? Oh, when we get to heaven and learn what we might have ac complished with prayer! R est in the W ill of G od I recall that after I had been sick fo r several years, I thought, in my foolishness, that I had learned the lessons which God wanted to teach me, and that He would let me go out into the world and work for Him. A s though one could ever learn all that God has to teach! No, I am still sick, though not bedfast. I do not understand why I must still be an invalid. I no longer expect to understand. I f I did, there would be no need o f faith. Enough that He knows why, and some day He will tell me all about it—why it was best for me and best for His cause. And meanwhile His strength is made perfect in my weakness, and He can supply all my needs “ ac cording to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.” It is one thing to think so— it is another thing to have found out by actual experience that it is so, to know beyond a shadow o f [Continued-on page 386]--
o f His flock. The memory o f my magic night has never left me, and often when things grow flat and stale, I go back to the time when for a little space I really saw, when all o f earth and all o f heaven, all the things terrestrial and the things celestial, were in the living air about me. T he L essons T hat the S leepless L earn It seems odd that I can thank Him for sleeplessness. I have suf fered so from it, and yet, looking back, I can see that some o f the greatest blessings have come during the long nights. At about two in the morning, when all the world is quiet, God comes very close. Some times when I have been wakeful for hours with fever or pain, or have tossed about, restlessly trying to solve the problems, financial and do mestic, that come when some one in the home is ill, at last the thought has come, “ How foolish o f me! I don’t have to attend to this; He will do it for me.” And I have whis pered over and over to myself some o f His precious promises, and they were indeed a lamp unto my feet in the night. Often I would go out to sit in our back yard. It has a tiny lawn, green hedges, two trees, and, oh, such a deep sky overhead! What a host o f stars, so calm, so serene, so steadfast! I would sit quietly for a long time, and after a while, the peace o f God would sink into my soul, and I would see that after all it mattered little that my broken body suffered, since the body’s loss may be the spirit’s gain. Nothing that happens to us is important ex cept in so far as it affects our spirit ual development, our knowledge of God, and the growth o f our faith.
V I S I O N By M ARTHA SNELL N ICH O LSO N Once an angel, to my pleading Giving ear, Let me have a glimpse of glory, Even here— Left the gate of heaven open Just a bit, At evening, when the lamps of heaven All were lit. Poised on tiptoe, I was peering, Very bold I Saw the winding streets of heaven Gleaming gold, Glimpsed the shining rows of angels, Far and far— Robed in silver, crowned with splendor, Like a star; Heard the heavenly music choiring, Peal on peal, Till the wondering soul within me Bade me kneel. Fair was all that land of beauty And delight, And my heart was lifted, singing, At the sight. Then I saw the Lord of heaven On His throne, Saw Him waiting for the coming Of His own. . . . • Since, my raptured eyes see nothing Save His face, And my humbled heart is flooded With His grace! Then they shut the door of heaven Close and tight, Shut me out from all the glory And the light; But I keep the vision hidden In my heart, And I'm living now as one who Walks apart, Till the time when I go knocking At the door. When it opens, I will leave it Nevermorel
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