The Visit

She stood at the window watching

the snow fall in thick white sheets

on the streets below.  It had been

like this all morning.   What was

it going to end?

 

All night she had looked forward

to seeing Rupert.  When they had

last seen each other which was a

fortnight ago, he had promised to

visit her today.

 

When she woke up this morning

all cheerful, she was appalled at

the wintry scene outside her bedroom

window.  The snow fell relentlessly

with no promise of that it will taper

off any time soon.

 

Skipping breakfast, she came straight into

the library to occupy herself with a book

but it was no use.  She couldn’t concentrate

on anything.  She got up from the armchair

by the fire and walked over to the window.

She drew aside the curtain and watched

the snow which she now regarded as her

enemy.   It blanketed everything in its path.

The streets were deserted.  No one

dared to venture out in such blizzard-like

weather.  Why, of all days, did it have

to snow today?  There was no reason to

believe that Rupert would even attempt

to brave the weather just to see her.

 

Yet, an irrational part of her hoped

to see a carriage pull up in front

and a tall and slender figure alight.

She remembered how handsome he

looked in his officer coat when she

she first saw him.  It was at the ball

thrown by her Aunt in honor of her

husband, a retired officer.  Her eyes

scarcely left him and she urged her

aunt to introduce them.  Which she

did with relish.

 

Rupert was friendly and gracious and

she was immediately put at ease.

They spent most of the evening talking and

she was fortunate to have a couple of

dances with him.  It vexed her when she

saw him dance with other young women

but always, he returned to her side.

 

It was with deep regret that she bid him

farewell that night but her constitution

brightened considerably when he

promised that he would visit her in a

fortnight.

 

And here she was, watching her hopes

diminish with each falling snowflake.

Even if it were to taper off, the roads

were now impassable.   She might as

well face the inevitable.  She was not

going to see Rupert today.  And she

wasn’t even sure about tomorrow.

 

She turned away in distress.  Just then

the door opened and Rupert stood in

its opening.  I must be dreaming, she

thought.  I want to see him so desperately

that I am conjuring his image now.  Perhaps,

I need to go and lie down.  She felt a bit faint.

Perhaps not having a morsel to eat for

breakfast was taking its toll on her now.

 

As she started forward, the image

moved towards her.  Her eyes widened

in shock.  It was Rupert.  He was there–

but how?  He came forward, smiling and

took her hands in his.  His dark brown eyes

steady on her upturned face.  “I came by

very early this morning,” he explained.

“When the snow was just starting to fall.”

 

She still couldn’t believe that this was

real.  He was here.  “But, no one told me

that you were here.”

 

“When I arrived you were still in bed.  I asked

her aunt not to disturb you.  Your Uncle invited

me to join him in the drawing-room where I

was quite content to bide my time until you

were available.  Your Aunt had been to your

room to check on you but found that you had

vacated it.  On her way to the drawing-room,

she popped her head in the library and saw

you standing at the window.   She came and

informed me.  And, so without further delay,

I quit your Uncle’s company and came straightaway

here.”

 

“I thought—with the weather being so bad

that I wouldn’t see you today.”

 

“Hannah, you will soon learn that I am a

man of my word.  I promised that I would

visit you and here I am.  Besides, I have been

thinking of little else.   Come, let us go

and sit by the fire.  Your hands are cold.”

 

She glanced back at the falling snow.  A

smile touched her lips.  She no longer

felt resentment toward it but was thankful.

It meant that Rupert was going to be here

for a while.  Yes, it was to be an extended

visit after all.

 

Victorian woman looking out window

Source:  Military Heritage

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It Takes Courage

Waiting takes courage.  That’s what King David implied when he said, “Wait on the Lord;
Be of good courage, And He shall strengthen your heart; Wait, I say, on the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14).

Waiting takes a lot of courage especially when you are tempted to act.  You want answers or results right away but God is telling you to wait.  You know from past experiences that waiting on God is always the best option but that doesn’t make it easy the next time you have to slow down or halt when you would rather go full steam ahead.

For eighty-five years Caleb waited to get possession of the land he was promised when he was forty-years old (Joshua 14:7-10).   During those forty years when he was forced to wander in the wilderness with the rest of Israel because of their rebelliousness but he didn’t lose heart.  He continued waiting for the day when they would enter the Promised Land, always trusting God.  He continued waiting until God fulfilled this promise, “But My servant Caleb, because he has a different spirit in him and has followed Me fully, I will bring into the land where he went, and his descendants shall inherit it” (Numbers 14:24).

Waiting for years to have a child and watching your chances grow slim as you get older is not easy.  Sarah longed to have a son but she was unable to conceive and after years of waiting to no avail, she concluded, “See now, the Lord has restrained me from bearing children” (Genesis 16:2).  She didn’t know at the time that God had plans for her to have a son but at the time of His choosing, not hers.  By faith Sarah herself also received strength to conceive seed, and she bore a child when she was past the age, because she judged Him faithful who had promised (Genesis 21:2; Hebrews 11:11).

Waiting on God is never easy but it has its benefits.  It teaches us to be more patient, to persevere and it builds our faith.  Waiting teaches us to be more dependent on God and not in our own strength or wisdom.  Waiting is not something we do alone.  God is there with us, strengthening us.

sarah-and-isaac1

Pray for the Persecuted

Answer:   In the same way pizza is very common in the United States, persecution is very common in other parts of the world.

Imagine that you live in a country where being a Christian is dangerous.  Imagine your neighbors, friends or family members turning against you because you have accepted Jesus as your Lord.  This happened to a college student in Kyrgyzstan She was brutally beaten by her brothers and sister.  They had invited her over for a visit with the intention of forcing her to renounce her faith.

Jesus said that believers would be persecuted just as He was but what would you do in the face of persecution?  Would you be able to stand strong, no matter what the cost?  Would you be steadfast like Daniel and his three friends or would you be discouraged like the prophet Jeremiah?  What about the families of those who are persecuted and martyred for their faith?  Just recently I read an article of an Ugandan woman who was killed for her faith.  Her attackers had gone to the house looking for her husband and when they saw that he wasn’t there, they seized her.  She and her husband had eight children.  A month ago, her husband’s brother was murdered for his faith.  Her 13 year old daughter witnessed her mother screaming and crying for help as she was dragged out of the house.  She was hacked to death by her Muslim attackers because she had converted to Christianity.  Before they seized her, they said, “Your husband has followed the religion of his brother, and we had warned you people to stop these activities, but our message has landed on deaf ears.”

Can you imagine seeing your mother being brutally attacked and your father coming home to find her lying in a pool of blood?  How hard it must be for the families of those who are killed for their faith.  This woman’s husband remains steadfast in his faith, trusting God to protect him and his children.  His prayer is, “May God give me the courage to continue sharing the love of Christ to those who are lost, as Jesus said we should love our enemies.”  Let us pray for this father who will not let anything or anyone hinder him from sharing the Gospel to the lost.  May we ask God to put a hedge around him and his children.

Yet if anyone suffers as a Christian, let him not be ashamed, but let him glorify God in this matter – 1 Peter 4:16

In North America Christians are still free to worship and share their faith.  People can freely approach us and ask us questions and we can talk them, give them literature to read and not have to worry about being thrown into jail, on charges that we are evangelizing people or drawing them away from their faith.  It has been two years since Pastor Saeed Abedini was imprisoned for his Christian faith and for charges levelled against him for evangelizing and attempting to sway Iranian youth away from Islam. We can accept or raise funds for church ministry without fear of being imprisoned unlike Pastor Tandin Wangyal.

Many persecuted Christians often feel isolated and alone, since they are unable to fellowship with other believers. However, prayers from Christians half a world away have brought the same amount of encouragement that fellowship would have for these persecuted Christians. Prayer is vital—not only as a direct line to God, but as a way to encourage our persecuted brothers and sisters around the world – Open Doors

Jesus warns us that we will face persecution, imprisonment, tribulation and even death for His sake.  When we take up the cross and follow Him, we can expect to go through hardship and suffering but there is a crown laid up for us.  And we have this promise, “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world” (John 16:33).

On November 1 and 8 or on any Sunday in November, join Christians across the nation in lifting up our brothers and sisters in Christ who are persecuted for their faith.  Stand with them.  Let them know that they are not alone.  Prayer is a powerful tool.  Prayer works!  I was encouraged when I read how prayers for Yana (not her real name) of South Asia.  She was detained by police on false accusations of not repaying her debt to her relative.  Last month, Open Doors sent out a prayer request for Yana’s release.  God heard and answered the prayers.  On October 11, Yana was released.  Continue to pray for Yana who wants to start a business near her children’s dormitory.  Pray that she continues to remain steadfast in her faith and to trust in the God who is faithful.

There is nothing more encouraging for Christians than knowing that their brethren are praying for them.  Gospel for Asia has provided a prayer request list.  As you pray over this list, remember that “The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:16, Complete Jewish Bible).

  • Perseverance and boldness for our fellow believers around the world
  • For the persecutors’ hearts to be softened by Christ’s love
  • For the Western Church to actively intercede on behalf of the persecuted church

 

 

 

O You who hear prayer, To You all flesh will come – Psalm 65:2

Sources:  Gospel for Asia; IDOP; Christian Headlines

Precious Lord

Today I learned who wrote the beautiful hymn, Precious Lord, the one we hear playing in the background when we see images of starving children in poverty stricken countries.  Here is the story of how this hymn was born: 

Back in 1932, I was a fairly new husband.

My wife, Nettie and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago’s south side. One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting. I didn’t want to go; Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first child, but a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis .  I kissed Nettie goodbye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and, in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66.

However, outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, I had forgotten my music case. I wheeled around and headed back.

I found Nettie sleeping peacefully. I hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling me to stay. But eager to get on my way, and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music.

The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing again and again. When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up with a Western Union  telegram. I ripped open the envelope….Pasted on the yellow sheet were the words:YOUR WIFE JUST DIED.

People were happily singing and clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying out. I rushed to a phone and called home. All I could hear on the other end was “Nettie is dead. Nettie is dead.'”

When I got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy. I swung between grief and joy. Yet that same night, the baby died.

I buried Nettie and our little boy together, in the same casket. Then I fell apart.  For days I closeted myself.

I felt that God had done me an injustice. I didn’t want to serve Him anymore or write gospel songs I just wanted to go back to that jazz world I once knew so well. But then, as I hunched alone in that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought back to the afternoon I went to  St. Louis . Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie.  Was that something God? Oh, if I had paid more attention to Him that day, I would have stayed and been with Nettie when she died.

From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him.  But still I was lost in grief. Everyone was kind to me, especially one friend. The following Saturday evening he took me up to Maloney’s Poro College , a neighborhood music school. It was quiet; the late evening sun crept through the curtained windows.

I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys. Something happened to me then. I felt at peace. I felt as though I could reach out and touch God. I found myself playing a melody. Once in my head they just seemed to fall into place:  ‘Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand, I am tired,

I am weak, I am worn, through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light, take my hand, precious Lord, lead me home.’

The Lord gave me these words and melody, He also healed my spirit. I learned that when we are in our deepest grief, when we feel farthest from God, this is when He is closest, and when we are most open to His restoring power.

And so I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until that day comes when He will take me and gently lead me home.

—-Tommy Dorsey

This story is a reminder that during the times when we are hurting and we are angry with God, He is right there.  He never left!  He speaks to our hearts and there are times when we  ought to listen but we don’t.  We let the cares or distractions of the world occupy our thoughts.  God knows and sees everything.  When He speaks to your heart–listen.  If like, Tommy, God tells you to stay close to a loved one, do it.  You may never get another opportunity to be with that person.  And, whenever you are hurting and you feel alone, remember this promise, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).

Tommy was not alone–he had God and his and Nettie’s son–a reminder of the love they shared.