333
THE K I NG ’S BUS I NESS
September, 1942
Judy's Lighted Steps A True Story to Encourage All Young People zm.
V-
“Oh, God,” she pleaded silently. “Help me in this, as You have.in the past. I have promised to serve You. Teach me to trust You perfectly.” 1 * * * She had been desperate that night, so long ago, when she had promised the Lord to serve Him—even more desperate than now. And He had heard her. She would never forget it though she had been very young then. Judy did not often indulge in retro spects—life was too full for that. But now, moved by a desire to find peace for her weary mind by remembering the way the Lord had led her, she deliberately gave herself up to mem ories. Ever since her conversion when she was but seven, she had wanted to go to Africa some day as a mis- sionary. No one at home had en couraged her in this, but the desire was there and was strengthened with each year—until she was eleven. Looking back at that time, Judy marveled a little at the deliberateness with which she had made. a choice. At eleven, because she was advanced in school, she' found herself included in a crowd of boys and girls that ranged from fourteen to sixteen years of age. Judy ,was pleased when they noticed her, yet she knew in her heart that this crowd was not the place for a Christian—that they would stop at nothing. Life was suddenly exciting.. But she was honest beyond her years and recognized that she could not have both the life God wanted her to live and that that the world beckoned her to enjoy. Calmly, as though she were twenty instead of eleven, she had made her choice— for the world. She gave up Sunday- school and church, and no one seemed to care. Gaily, seemingly light-heart edly, she had pursued happiness with the crowd. Then there had come the night, two years later, when she was brought face to face with the cost of her
The lobby was rapidly filling with students, now, as they packed the one elevator or hurried down the Stair way. The school day had begun. Sud denly it stretched long and drear before Judy—breakfast in the student dining room with the gay laughter and friendly chatter of th e ,students beating against her aching head. Thep, after the morning classes, there would be the afternoon to be gone through at the restaurant where she worked to earn the two remaining meals of the day and the extra money for her room rent and personal ex penses. She wished Uncle John had waited until night to call. It wouid have been easier to have faced this in the friendly darkness of her room. For just one moment of weakness, she wished she could give up and go home. “But that would be defeat, sur render to the enemy,” she whispered quickly, "even if I had not burned that bridge behind me when I came here.” Breathing a swift prayer, she squared her shoulders and Joined the stream of students moving toward the dining room. * » * “I think I’ll go to bed early tonight,” she said to her roommate that eve- nirig. The day had passed, slowly and painfully, but it was past. She had sat patiently -,at her desk for an hour after supper and stared at her books, but for the first time in the month she had been in school, her lessons had no interest for her. Her face ached with the strain of smiling to hide the worry that had put unac customed Shadows in her dark eyes. “You’re not sick, are you?” Gladys asked anxiously. “You’re so white . . . ” “I’m pretty tired,” Judy confessed. “But I’m not sick.” In bed, with the covers pulled high to shut out the light, she gave her self up to thoughts and plans. Not yet had Judy learned the perfect trust of the Christian, but she wanted to know His will.
T UDY MARTIN* walked down the I quiet hall of the girls’ dormitory and pushed the button for the elevator. A tiny frown shadowed her usually serene face, “Who could be calling me so early in the morning?” she wondered. She knew very few people in Los Angeles, and no one ever had telephoned her here. The lobby of the Bible Institute wore an atmosphere of hushed waiting. Judy had never seen it so quiet and devoid of life. But then she had never before been down this early. The attendant at thé desk smiled a cheery good-morning and handed her the waiting telephone. “Hello?” she spoke into the receiver with more of a question in her voice than she had intended. Then1her facç went white and she gripped the desk to steady herself. What was Uncle John saying? No, it couldn’t be true. To her amazement she heard her*own voice replying so calmly she thought it must be another’s: “I’ll have it by the first of December, Uncle John.” Weakly, she hung the receiver on its hook and, by sheer force of will power, walked to the entrance of the building. She had seen the question in the desk attendant’s eyes, vbut this was not a burden you could share with others. Could it be true? She stood there, breathing in the morning freshness that the roar of city traffic had not yet spoiled, and wondered what she was to do. “Why did I say that?” she asked herself, , dully. “How can I repay $150.00 by the first of December when this is October and I have nothing?”' Had she made a, mistake in accept ing that loan in the first place? She had been so certain of the Lord’s lead ing in opening her way to attend the Bible Institute of Los Angeles. Surely this couldn’t be the end. *A ctual nam e w ithheld .
Made with FlippingBook - Online magazine maker