Many men are supporting their own representatives in the foreign field. Many a church now sustains its own missionary or missionaries. The ideal toward which the Church might well aim is that every family should have its own missionary. The real unit of life is the family. The children would then grow up with the world-vision dearly and deeply marked. There are thousands of families in circumstances that are reckoned moderate that could support a missionary by planning. But the relationship should be carefully kept one of warm sympathy and prayer, as well as one of money. The reflex blessing upon the home would be immeasurable in its sweetness and extent.
<u>Are We True To Our Friend’s Trust?</u>
Jesus admits us into the inner circle of friendship. He gives us the one rarest token of friendship, that is, a task to do for our Friend’s sake. He asks us to go out to all men, and tell them about His love and sacrifice for them. And He asks that everything we have be held and used for this sacred friendship trust. Are we being true to our Friend’s trust? Is there more stored away for ourselves than is being sent out on His errand? Is there any discoloration on our gold? Anything that looks like rust, a dull-red color—ah, it looks strangely like the color—the stain—of blood.
Is Judas so lonely, after all? He coupled a token of friendship with a betrayal of his Friend’s trust. In his heart he meant far less than the act actually involved. Is he so much alone?
“The latest years shall
tremble hearing this
And burn for human shame unto the end,
That one of us betrayed the tryst his Friend
Would keep with God. A sign that none might miss
He named—the pledge
of love. The soul’s abyss,
Christ saw, the heart of night, the purse, the end;
Knew all, a Man, and knowing stui could bend
With soul unpoisoned to receive the kiss.
Before the multitude have
I kist Thee
Fresh come from my blood-barter—thou but come
From intercession for all souls—and me.
And, mocking Love Divine, amazed and dumb,
I learn Love’s deathlessness, and trembling press
The lips that kiss away my faithlessness."
One Hank Over For the Candle.
Sin’s Healing Shadow.
The Underground Way into Life.
A Rare Harvest.
The Fellowship of Scars.
“Won’t You Save Me?”
<u>One Hank Over For the Candle.</u>
The light of a common candle in the window of a little cottage near the coast shone far out over the sea. It was up north of Scotland, in one of the Orkney Islands. Near the window sat a frail, gray-haired woman with cheery, thoughtful face. She was busy working at her spinning-wheel, and watching the candle, turning now and again to trim it. All night long she sat at the spinning-wheel and watching the candle. Fishermen out on the water, heading for home, knew that light could be counted on, and came safely in, past all the dangers of their coast.