God's Minute

November 22

Ye that fear the Lord, praise Him.--Psalm 22:23

HELP us, O God, this day to recognize ourselves as Thy children. May we call to mind and refresh ourselves with the teachings of Thy servant who declared that our birth is a forgetting; that "the soul that rises with us, our life's star, hath had elsewhere its setting, and cometh from afar." May we remember that we come from God, who is our home, and may we mourn the fact that we have fogotten the Imperial Palace whence we come and the glories we have known. May it be in our hearts to thank Thee, O Lord, that there is something in each of us which the weights and the frosts of earth cannot suppress, with lives as the embers of primeval fires; those high instincts, those first affections--shadowy recollections which are the master light of all our seeing; a primal sympathy, a faith that looks through death.

We thank Thee, O Lord, for the seasons of calm weather, when we have sight of that immortal sea over which we voyaged to this world, and back over which again, when the work of life is done, we shall travel to our eternal home. In full knowledge of Thy way, Thy truth, Thy life, as declared through Thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, may we live to serve Thee every day of our lives.

Amen.

James W. Lee, D.D.,
St. Louis, Missouri

True Confessions

I could never be a plumber.

We live in an 85 year old bungalow. I love our home. It's charming with it's hardwood floors, crown molding, built in bookcases, open floor plan. It reminds me of a hobbit hole; the living room, dining room and kitchen are set in a straight line from the front door, the bedrooms open to the right (no hallways) and the best room is on the left hand side, a beautiful sunroom with thirteen windows adorned with window boxes filled with impatiens in the summer.

So by now you're wondering, what does this have to do with plumbing? Those of you who have ever lived in an old house have already figured that out.

With the charm of an older home comes the quirks of an older home, usually in the form of plumbing problems, electrical idiosycracies, water in the basement, or birds in the attic. In this house we've had all the above, except the birds, along with a few other interesting "character traits" and challenges that make up the personality of this old house.

This morning the challenge was the bathtub. It wouldn't drain. So I went down to the basement and brought up the plumber's snake (everyone who has an old house has a plumber's snake) and cleaned it out. Yuck.

I could never be a plumber.

A quilt story

The year I was pregnant with our youngest, Sam, I was still doing classroom teaching. My best friend, Robin, and I were co-teaching a morning Pre-K class, and one day, while we were taking the kids across to the playground, I whispered to Robin that I had had an ultrasound the day before and my OB/GYN had told us that he was 99% sure we were going to have a girl this time. I hadn't planned on broadcasting the news, but one of my students, a little girl named Morgan, had overheard us and made it her mission in life to tell every 5 year old on the playground that "Mrs. S is going to have a baby girl!"

The whole class had so much fun with the whole "having a baby scenario" that year. It was a constant source of anticipation and excitement for the children, and for us as teachers.

When at last the day drew near for Sam to be born, the mothers of the preschoolers organized a baby shower for me. It was so much fun to see what those 5 year olds picked out as presents for the baby girl. That could be a post in itself, but this post is about quilts, so I'll get back to the subject at hand.

After I had opened all the children's presents, one of the mothers brought in a big present from the hallway. I can still remember the kids sitting on the circle with these happy, excited, expectant faces. They knew what was in the box.

When I opened it, there was a beautiful handmade baby quilt with ruffles and lace. It was so sweet, so pink, so girly! I promised the children that I would be bringing my baby home from the hospital wrapped in the pink quilt and we'd take lots of pictures.

Imagine our surprise when our little Paige Aileen was born and he wasn't a girl! We scrambled for a boy's name (Sam is named after my maternal grandfather) and thoroughly enjoyed the surprise. Sam left the hospital wrapped in a beautiful pink baby quilt and of course, pictures were taken.

But once we got Sam home, I began to wonder. What should we do about the pink quilt? It was a handmade gift of love from one of my sweet preschool moms. But dare I keep it? Could I return it to her without offending her? Should I just tuck it away and keep it for a future granddaughter? I struggled with it for a couple of days and asked advice from friends and family.

In the end, I wrote a letter to the quilt's maker, telling the story of the quilt (because all quilts have stories, you know) in the form of a children's story and then returned the quilt with the story and the hope that the next time there was a little girl born into their family, she would give the quilt along with a copy of the story to the new little baby.

Every quilt has a story. Do you have any quilt stories you would like to share?

God's Minute

November 21

Ye are the salt of the earth; but if the salt have lost his savour, wherewith shall it be salted? It is thenceforth good for nothing but to be cast out and to be trodden under foot of men. Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.--Matthew 5:13-16

OUR Saviour and our Intercessor, Thou camest into the world not to be mininsered unto, but minister, and to give Thy life a ransom for many. Thou didst go about doing good. Looking upon the young man, Thou didst love him.

Thou didst weep over Jerusalem. In the spirit of Thy love and sacrifice for lost souls, inflame our hearts with a sacred passion for the redemption of men. O Thou, the sinners' Christ, pour upon us a tender and undying yearning to save precious souls! Give us a greater zeal than our fathers had. May we take no neighboring saint for our standard, but dwell with our God for power.

Amen.

Arthur S. Phelps, D.D.,
Waterville, Maine

A photo of Dr. Phelps when he served as pastor of the First Baptist Church of San Franscisco from 1920-21.

God's Minute

November 20

But it shall come to pass that at evening time it shall be light.--Zechariah 14:7

WE speak to Thee, O Lord, our Father, not as aliens and strangers, but as children of the household. Thou hast given unto us many and priceless tokens of Thy favor. We have felt the touch of Thy hand upon our head and the joy of Thy benediction in our heart. Cause Thy face to shine upon the dark places through which we may be called to pass this day and may the clouds be lifted; or, if the darkness be better for us according to Thy wisdom and Thy will, then be Thy promises a glorious beacon and Thy fidelity a star, and may we be made to feel that it is better to hold on to Thy hand in the dark than to walk alone in the light. If we are not all that Thou dost intend us to be; if we are not in harmony with Thee; if we want for ourselves, and not for others; if our service be the hollow service of habit or the shallow service of display, show us how we are disappointing Thee, and starving ourselves, and robbing our fellows, and putting far off the one divine event toward which the whole creation moves, the Kingdom of God in human hearts and the union of man in the bonds of righteousness and peace. Especially regard the unsaved. Those who touch us on every side, whose hearts are kept back from Thee. May our lives be so clean and so true that God's cause may ever have a witness and an evangel in the influence we daily exert.

John H. Wiley, Ph.D., S.T.D.,
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania