God give us mothers Who will joy to see Their sons remembered Through eternity.
do know that she existed, some where in the background, for we have met her son, Judas. To place all the blame for children who go wrong upon their parents is the tendency of our times; but it can, sometimes, be a gross error. Many fine, conscientious parents have had children who did not turn out well. But, regardless of whose fault it may be, it is always a tragedy. Can something be done, over and above our human best, that might prevent such tragedy? God’s answer here lies in the keyword, transmit. Little is known of the background of Judas Iscariot; but one fact we may assume: greed had already be come his idol when Jesus Christ came into his life. He could fellow ship with the Son of God, sit in that blessed presence, listen to that gentle voice — and still clutch the purse strings. He could break bread with the Saviour — and go out to betray Him for 30 pieces of silver. No one would care to be the mother of an Iscariot. And yet, there are many sons who do sell out to the world today. The only preventive for this must be the de termination to see that Christ has a hold on our children before some thing else grips them. Get acquaint ed with the Saviour yourself and transmit your knowledge of Him to your children. Do not wait for the Sunday school teacher to do this; do not leave it to your min ister; do it yourself. Establish a family altar, tell your children the story of God’s redeeming grace. Know the joy of leading them to the Lord. No careful h o u s ew i f e would think of making a cake without fol lowing some sort of recipe or cut ting out a dress without a pattern. No architect would think of build ing a house without a blueprint. But, when it comes to building the home itself, so much is left to chance! Many a marriage could be saved, many a home remain intact, by following God’s simple four-point directive: submit, commit, permit, and transmit. END.
TH E H E A R T 'S P R A Y ER
As, down in the sunless retreats of the ocean, Sweet flowers are springing no mortal can see, So, deep in my soul, the still prayer of devotion. Unheard by the world, rises, silent, to Thee. As still to the star of its worship, though clouded, The needle points faithfully o'er the dim sea, So, dark when I roam, in this wintry world shrouded. The hope of my spirit turns, trembling, to Thee. — T. M oore
The keyword in Hannah’s exper- ence was commit. It is still part of God’s directive to mothers. Commit yourself to God, commit your chil dren to Him. Many people remark that they would not want to bring children up in this present evil age. “ There is safety nowhere,” they say. But there is. In the center of God’s will both you and they are eternally secure. Remember Han nah. “ Those that be planted in the house of the L o r d shall flourish in the courts of our God” (Psa. 92:13). “ Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in him; and he shall bring it to pass” (Psa. 37:5). 1 Mary was the triumphant moth er. There is a sense, of course, in which Mary’s motherhood was unique; but her answer to the angel, Gabriel, should by no means remain unique. “ . . . Behold the handmaid of the Lord . . .” (Luke 1:38), should be the heart cry of every woman who receives a child from God. For all children belong to Him — and are only loaned to us. The keyword to Mary’s experi ence was permit. “ Be it unto me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38) is still one of God’s keywords to suc cessful motherhood. It is not always easy to be a mother. Household tasks are often too burdensome for one pair of hands; there are sleep less nights and crowded days; much that must be done seems to be sheer drudgery at times. But when these tasks are done “ heartily as unto the Lord” all is changed. To the woman who, in joy or sorrow, in plenty or in want, on pathways rough or smooth, can look up into the face of her God and say “ Behold the handmaid of the Lord,” motherhood can be one of the most deeply re warding of all human experiences. The secret to success lies in permit ting God to have His way. We cannot name the tragic mother, for God does not. But we
T R U S T IN G
The child leans on its parent's breast, Leaves there its cares, and is at rest; The bird sits singing by his nest, And tells aloud His trust in God, and so is blest 'Neath every cloud. He has no store, he sows no seed; Yet sings aloud, and doth not heed; By flowing strem or grassy mead, He sings to shame Men, who forget, in fear of need, A Father's name. The heart that trusts forever sings, And feels as light as it had wings; A well of peace within it springs; Come good or ill, Whate'er today, tomorrow brings, It is His will!
—- Isaac W illiam s
The King's Business/October 1958
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