After we finished machine-piecing the top, I laid the layers on the living room floor to baste them together.

     This is me basting the quilt in the middle of the night.

     We stenciled hearts in the solid squares and diagonal lines through the printed squares.

     I found my old quilting frame, which I haven’t used for ten years, and with the help of my dad and a drill, got it back together again.

     I spent an hour and a half quilting this morning. I love it!

“Thou knowest that I love Thee. . . .  Feed my lambs.”–JOHN xxi. 15.

 
     That miraculous catch of fish on which we have dwelt was a parable to the disciples of the kind of work in which they were thenceforward to be engaged.  They were to catch men.  But there was one amongst them who must have wondered much how he would fare, and what part he would take when that work was recommenced.  Might he have a share in it?  He would seem to have forfeited all right.  With oaths and curses he had thrice denied that he belonged to Jesus.  He had given grievous occasion to the enemy to blaspheme.  He had failed in a most important part of an apostle’s character.

     True, he had repented with bitter tears, and had received a message from the empty tomb; on that Easter morn he had heard his forgiveness spoken by the lips of his Lord, and he would not have exchanged that forgiveness for an imperial crown; but he was not quite at ease.  His uneasiness betrayed itself in his plunge into the water to swim to Christ’s feet, and in his rush to drag the net to the shore.  He wished to be restored to the position in the Apostolate which his sin had forfeited; not because of the honor which it would bring, but because nothing less would assure him of the undiminished confidence and the entire affection of Jesus.

     The Lord read his heart; and when the morning meal was done, He singled
him out from the rest of His disciples, and asked him three times if he loved Him, and then thrice gave him the injunction to feed His flock. In addressing him our Lord calls him by his old name, Simon Bar Jonas, not by his new name, Peter; as if to remind him that he had been living the life of nature rather than of grace.

     In considering this subject, it will be convenient to speak of the question, the answer; the command.
I. OUR LORD’S SEARCHING QUESTION–”Lovest thou Me?”

     It is a very remarkable question.–We should have expected the inquiry, Dost thou believe Me?  Wilt thou obey Me?  Art thou prepared to carry out My plans?  But lo! the risen Lord seems not anxious about aught of these, and only asks for love, and this from the rugged, manly, headstrong Peter.  Yet as we hear the question asked, we realize it is the true one.  He who has asked it has struck the right method of dealing with men; and if He only get the love, He will get easily enough the faith and the obedience as well.

     In this startling question you have unbared to you the distinctive feature which makes Christianity what it is, and which makes it different from all other religions which have flung their clouds or their rainbows over human spirits.  It is the religion of love: and a man may speak with a seraph’s burning tongue to defend Christianity; he may give his goods to feed the poor in obedience to the precepts of Christianity; he may even burn at the stake rather than renounce Christianity as his intellectual creed; but if he does not love, he is no Christian.  If a man love not the Lord Jesus, he is anathema.

     But if only there be love–love to God, love to man–then though there may be many deficiencies in head and heart, there is the one prime evidence of Christianship.  It was on such grounds that the Rev. Adam Gibb of Edinburgh once acted.  He had once or twice dissuaded a young woman from joining the church, deeming her ill-informed, and unable to answer elementary questions; and on his third refusal she answered, “Weel, weel, sir, I may na’, an’ I dinna, ken sae muckle as mony; but when ye preach a sermon aboot my Lord and Saviour, I fin’ my heart going out to Him, like lintseed out of a bag.”  Any one who has observed the process will know how lifelike the illustration was, and will not wonder that Mr. Gibb admitted her, and that she lived to be one of the fairest members of his church.

     It is a universal question.–Its universality suggests that in Christ there is something universally lovable, and that every one has the power of loving Him, if only the rubbish is removed which chokes the springs of affection.  There are different shades in love–the love of gratitude, where the rescued spirit sings the praise of Him who took it from the terrible pit and miry clay; the love of complacency, with which the holy soul admires Him who is fairer than the sons of men, and dwells with rapture on His majestic beauty and endearing goodness; the love of friendship, in which by constant intercourse a deep attachment arises between the confiding soul and the all-sufficient Saviour.  And there are as many methods of manifestation of love as there are different temperaments.  With some, it is silent; with others, it speaks.  With some, it sits listening at Christ’s feet; with others, it hurries too and fro to serve.  With some, it is exuberant and enthusiastic; with others, it is still and deep.  But whatever be the shade or the evidence, in each Christian heart there must be love to Christ, and the heart must be willing to give up its throne to the reign of Jesus as its Lord.

     Often it carries a special emphasis.–Peter had grievously sinned. Jesus could not pass it by in utter silence.  For His disciples’ sake and His own, it was necessary to allude to, and to probe it.  But each was performed as gently as possible.  Thrice he had been warned, thrice he had denied, and now thrice shall he be asked if he really loves. And in asking him if he loved Him more than the rest, our Lord surely reminded him of his boast that if all the rest forsook Him, he never would.  Christ delicately reminded him that his actions had not been consistent with his professions, at the same time giving him an opportunity of wiping out the record of failure by a new avowal of attachment.  Thus He deals with us still.  He does not drag our secret sins to light before our brethren and friends, and parade them before
the sun; but He asks with deep meaning if we love Him, leaving conscience to apply the question.  And is there not good reason for Him to ask it?  How you have forgotten Him!  You have been occupied with the world, pleasure, or even sin.

     And there is nothing that breaks us down so quickly as this.  Peter was grieved.  An old man, eighty years of age, reared in connection with a church, once found his way to the penitent form, crying, “I’ve come here to be broke.”  Ah, there is nothing that so breaks us down as this!

     The question must be asked as a preliminary to service.–Thrice He asked Peter, as if to be perfectly sure ere He sent him forth on a shepherd’s work.  All the self-denial, patience, tenderness, and delicacy of love are needed, as the Lord knew well, in dealing with men, who are naturally uninteresting, or perhaps repulsive, and hence our Lord saw the necessity that there should be love.  But how could there be love to them?  It was impossible to expect it; and so Christ introduced Himself, saying, in effect, “Dost thou love Me?  Henceforth there will be little opportunity of doing anything for Me, thou canst not now shelter Me in thy home, or let Me use thy fishing boats, or
share My toils; but as thou lovest Me, and desirest to show it, expend it on those whom I love, for whom I died, and whom I long to see brought into My fold.  If only thou lovest, thou art fit for this.”

     You may not be naturally fitted to teach children, or shepherd adults; but if you love Christ you will do better than those more cultured.  It is not science, nor intellect, nor eloquence, that wins souls; but love to Christ pouring over in love to man.  Love will give you a delicacy of perception, an ingenuity, a persuasiveness, which no heart shall be able to resist.  Love will reconcile the accomplished scholar to a life among savages, and will carry the refined and cultured lady up to the sultry attic, or down to the damp and airless cellar.  Love will bear all, believe all, hope all, endure all, if only it may win wild wandering sheep for Christ.
II. THE CONTRITE REPLY.–It was very humble.  Peter did not now boast that he excelled the rest, he did not even dare to stand sponsor for his own affection; he threw the matter back on his Lord’s omniscience, and without mentioning the degree more or less, he said simply, “Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee.”  There is a delicate shade of meaning in the Greek.  The words translated love are not the same.  Jesus asks Peter if he cherishes toward Him love–spiritual, holy, heavenly.  Peter declines to use that term, and contents himself with speaking of a simpler, more personal, more human affection.  If I do not give Thee that love which is Thy due as Son of God, I at least give Thee that which befits Thee as Son of Man.

     There are many who could not go even as far as this.  Yet here are tests of love!  Would you be able to enjoy Heaven if Christ were not there?  Would you be willing to go to hell itself if you might have Him?  Do you feel drawn out to Him in service?  Do you do things which you certainly would not do except for His sake?  Are you glad to hear of Him in sermon or talk, so that there is a warm feeling rising to Him at the mention of His name?  Does it cost you pain to hear Him evil spoken of?  Do you sorrow that you do not love Him more?  Then you can challenge Him, saying, “Despite my worldliness, my faithlessness, my sins, Thou knowest all things, Thou knowest that I love Thee.”

     It was very confident.–”Thou knowest all things.”  Jesus is omniscient.  He can see with microscopic eye the lichen on the grey stone, the enamel on the shell, the modest flower; and He can see the love that is in the disciple’s heart, though it be but a tiny seed.

     When we sin, we are tempted to believe that we have no love to Christ. But let this incident encourage us.  It is impossible for any true lover of Christ to go on in a course of sin, but quite possible for him to be betrayed into a single sin.  And if that has been your case, do not shun the Master; He still believes that it is possible for you to love, and He is willing even to reinstate you in His blessed service. Who is there, that does not long to speak more confidently of his love to Christ?  Cease then to think of your love to Christ, dwell much on His love to you–”He loved me, He gave Himself for me.”  Think of its unwearied patience, its delicacy, its tenderness.  Consider the
character of Christ as unfolded in the New Testament.  Commune with Christ as friend with friend.  Above all, put away from your heart all that might grieve Him, and throw it open to the Holy Ghost, with prayer that He would shed Christ’s love abroad.  Then, almost unconsciously, it will arise, though it may not become palpable till some great crisis calls you to the front, and demands some heroic sacrifice, which you will give, not feeling it great.
III. THE DIVINE COMMAND.–In the miracle Peter had been commissioned to do the work of a fisherman, that is, of an evangelist; here he is commissioned to do the work of a shepherd, that is, of a pastor. Feeding and tending lambs and sheep.  It is not every one that is able to care for the sheep; but there is hardly any one who loves, that cannot feed or tend the lambs.  And even if you shrink from the former, what good reason have you to refuse to comply with the latter?

     There are in this land hundreds of young lives whom the morning light awakes to hunger, filth, and wretchedness, and whom the evening shadows limit to rooms in which you would not care to keep your dogs.  They are growing up without the least sense of decency, or the slightest reverence for God.  Their existence is one long struggle against the constituted guardians of society; or if they do not resist, they are always eluding.  In addition to these are the children of our homes and families and schools.  “Feed My lambs!”

     It is worthy of note that two Greek words are used in these injunctions.  In the first and last, the Master says simply, Feed.  In the middle He adds, Do the work of a shepherd.  So that the lover of Christ has not fulfilled all his duty, when he has given his sacred lesson or instruction: he must go further, and be prepared to act as shepherd.

     “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.” The apostle seems to be putting things the wrong way round. Surely the affliction is the heavy thing and the glory the light thing! No, Paul is putting it in the right way; he puts the emphasis on the weight of glory resulting from the light affliction. Again, everything is determined by the standpoint you take. Stand in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus and when the afflictions come you will praise the Lord, not with a sickly smile but with every bit of you, because you have learned the secret of the eternal weight of glory, and you know that His yoke is easy.

-From The Love of God by Oswald Chambers

1. What restricted nation are you praying for this month?

2. Redeeming love. ”Megan Graham, who graciously shared her testimony of God’s beautiful redemption with us, has also answered some interview questions on the subject of purity as it relates to her experience.”

3. Godly women.  ”A godly woman is very noticeable in a crowd. She is not the one with the expensive, fancy clothes or the one who is loudest in the crowd. Instead her spirit is quiet and she carries herself with humility.”

4. Alone.  ”I’ve been over here for a while now. I see people with what can only be called extreme diseases. Tumors that have grown to monstrous sizes, legs so crippled they look like they’ve been put on backwards. I’ve learned to look straight at suffering without flinching, to face it without turning away. Some days it feels like there’s nothing that can shock me anymore. At least that’s what I thought. Until Vincent came back.”

     Wherefore that which would have been a death to some, to wit, the laying aside of glory and becoming, of the King of princes, a servant of the meanest form; this He of His own good-will, was heartily content to do. Wherefore, He that once was the object of the fear of angels, is now become a little creature, a worm, an inferior one, born of a woman, brought forth in a stable, laid in a manger, scorned of men, tempted of devils, was beholden to His creatures for food, for raiment, for harbour, and a place wherein to lay His head when dead. In a word, He ‘made Himself of no reputation, took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men’, that He might become capable to do this kindness for us. And it is worth your noting, that all the while that He was in the world, putting Himself upon those other preparations which were to be antecedent to His being made a sacrifice for us, no man, though He told what He came about to many, had, as we read of, an heart once to thank Him for what He came about. No, they railed on Him, they degraded Him, they called Him devil, they said He was mad, and a deceiver, a blasphemer of God, and a rebel against the state: They accused Him to the governor; yea, one of His disciples sold Him, another denied Him, and they all forsook Him, and left Him to shift for Himself in the hands of His horrible enemies; who beat Him with their fists, spat on Him, mocked Him, crowned Him with thorns, scourged Him, made a gazing stock of Him, and finally, hanged Him up by the hands and the feet alive, and gave Him vinegar to increase His affliction, when He complained that His anguish had made Him thirsty. And yet all this could not take His heart off the work of our redemption. To die He came, die He would, and die He did before He made His return to the Father, for our sins, that we might live through Him.

-From All Loves Excelling by John Bunyan

Prayer

My soul is weak, its purposes are poor,
Of nothing in itself it can be sure,
Nor knows that to the end it can endure;
And so I love to pray.

My heart is cold, it does not always beat
With glowing love to Jesus, as is meet,
Nor always run His blessed form to greet;
And so I love to pray.

My mind is ignorant and dark; I know
So little of the way in which to go,
My progress is so tedious and so slow,
And so I love to pray.

For praying, I can feel that God is strong,
That in my weakness I to Him belong,
That He can nothing do or false or wrong-
Dearly I love to pray!

And my cold heart grows warmer as it tells
Its story pitiful, with love it swells
To Him who unseen ever near it dwells,
And so I love to pray.

And in communing with the great All-Wise,
What scales drop off from my poor, blinded eyes!
What gracious lessons He to me supplies!
Ah Lord! I love to pray!

-From Golden hours: Heart-hymns of the Christian life
by Elizabeth Prentiss

Picture from AllPosters.com

     The Uzbekistan government continues to harass Protestant Christians by forcing them to pay fines and forcing children to write statements promising not to attend church. Read more here. Pray that the Uzbek church will grow and strengthen during this time of difficulty.

     Recent changes in Russian law now permit the the establishment of private Christian hospitals. Please pray that Christian organizations would take advantage of this opportunity to spread the Gospel through good works. Hopefully I’ll have more to share later!

     Also, please pray for a couple of kids in Moscow who are very close to me. They recently lost their biological father, which leaves them with only their grandmother to care for them. This is the third death in the household since 2005. Pray that the grandmother would live until these kids are adults so they don’t end up in an orphanage.

“Jesus showed Himself again to the disciples at the Sea of Tiberias.”–JOHN xxi. 1.

      “All ye shall be offended because of Me this night; for it is written, I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered.  But after that I am risen, I will go before you into Galilee.”  So had the Chief Shepherd spoken to His sad and anxious followers on the night of His betrayal.  They little understood His meaning, and would perhaps have even forgotten the appointment of the rendezvous, unless it had been recalled again and yet again to their minds.  But they were not allowed to forget.  On the resurrection morn, the angel said to the first visitants at the empty grave: “Go your way, tell His disciples, and Peter, that He goeth before you into Galilee; there shall ye see Him as He said unto you.”  And as they went to execute this bidding, Jesus Himself met them and said: “Be not afraid; go tell My brethren, that they go into Galilee; there shall they see Me.”  The customs of the Passover Feast forbade their instant compliance with this command,
and the Master sanctioned their delay by appearing to them twice whilst they yet lingered in the metropolis.  But as soon as it was possible they hastened back to the familiar scenes of their early life and of the Master’s ministry.

     We cannot fathom all the reasons that led our Lord to make such special
arrangements for meeting with them in Galilee; but it was natural that He should wish to associate His risen life with scenes in which He had spent so large a part of His earthly ministry; and there the greatest proportion of His followers was gathered, and He would have the quietest and securest opportunity of meeting with the five hundred brethren at once.  The disciples little thought that this was a farewell visit to their homes, and that within a few weeks they must return to Jerusalem, to stay there for a time, and then to wander forth to all lands, from the ancient Indus on the east to the far-famed shores of Tarshish on the west.
I. It was in the early part of May when they returned to Galilee.  They were in evident bewilderment as to their next step.  What should they do?  Should they continue to lead the artificial life which they had taken up during the Master’s ministry?  That seemed impossible and needless.  Should they do nothing but wait?  That appeared unwise when life was yet strong in them, and their means of livelihood were scant. It was of course possible to go back to fishing-smacks and fishing-tackle; but should they?  And they hesitated.

     But one evening came; the fragrance of thyme and rosemary and of a
hundred flowers filled the air; the lake lay dimpled in the light of the setting sun; the purple hills that stood sentinel around seemed by their very peacefulness to promise that no storm should imperil the lives of those that ventured on the blue depths.  There stood the boats, yonder lay the nets, in those waters were the finny tribes; the old instinct of the fisherman arose in their hearts, and found expression on the lips of the one from whom we should have expected it. “Peter said unto them, I go a-fishing.”  I see no harm in it.  The Master never forbade it.  He cannot mean us to loiter our time away. We cannot be preachers without Him.  I shall go back to the life from
which He called me three years ago, and if it pleases Him to come again, He can find us now, as He found us once, among the fishing-tackle.

     The proposal met with an instant assent: “We also go with thee.”  And in a few moments Peter with six others had leaped into a boat, and they were preparing for the night’s work with all the enthusiasm with which men throw themselves into a craft which for some time they have disused.  But their ardor was soon checked.  Hour after hour passed. The lights went out in the hamlets and towns.  The chill night damps enwrapped them.  The grey morning at last began to break, whilst again and again the nets were hauled up and let down, but in vain; not a single fish had entered them.  “That night they caught nothing.”  Why this non-success?  The night was the most favorable time!  These men knew the lake well, and were experienced in their craft.  They did their best, but they caught nothing!  Why was this?  Was it a chance? No, it was a providence; it was carefully arranged, disappointing and vexing though it was, by One who was too wise to err, too good to be
unkind, and who was preparing to teach them a lesson which should enrich them and the whole Church forever.

     The failure put an arrest on their temporal pursuits.  Had they been successful that night, it would have been very much harder for them to renounce the craft forever; but their non-success made them more willing to give it up, and to turn their thoughts to the evangelization of the world.  Then, too, our Lord surely meant to teach them that whilst they were doing His work, whether that work was waiting or active service, it was not necessary for them to be anxious about their maintenance; He Himself would see to that, though He had, for each meal, to light a fire and prepare it Himself.  And, deeper than all this, there were surely great spiritual lessons to be gained respecting the conditions of success in catching men in the net of His Gospel.

     It is difficult to understand how a man can call himself a Christian, and how he can face the awful possibilities of life, except he believes that all is ruled by One who loves us with a love that is infinite, and who wields all power on earth and in heaven.  If, however, that be your fixed belief, you may find it often severely tested.  “I have waited this livelong night; can this be Christ’s will?”  “I have done my best in vain; can this be Christ’s will?”  “I have labored without a single gleam of success; can this be Christ’s will?”  Yes, most certainly it is.  It is His love which is arranging all, in order to teach you some of the sweetest, deepest lessons that ever entered your heart.  There is not a cross, a loss, a disappointment, a case of failure in your
life, which is not arranged and controlled by the loving Saviour, and intended to teach some lesson which else could never be acquired. Fitfully, curiously, without apparent art or fixed design, is the web of our lives woven; thread seems thrown with thread at random, no orderly pattern immediately appears, but yet of all that web there is not a single thread whose place and color are not arranged with consummate skill and love.

     But what good can failure do?  It may shut up a path which you were pursuing too eagerly.  It may put you out of heart with things seen and temporal, and give you an appetite for things unseen and eternal.  It may teach you your own helplessness, and turn you to trust more implicitly in the provision of Christ.  It is clear that Christians have often to toil all night in vain, that Christ may have a background black and sombre enough to set forth all the glories of His interposition.
II. In the morning Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus.  It was customary for fish-dealers to go down to greet fishers on their return from the night’s toil, in order to buy up fish.  Such a one now seemed waiting on the sand in the grey light, and His question was such as a fish-dealer might put: “Children, have you any food?”  It therefore never occurred to the disciples to think that it was Jesus.  And indeed, after the miracle was wrought, it was only the keen eye of love that knew Him to be the Lord.  How often is the Lord near us, and we know Him not!  He is standing there in the midst of scenes of natural beauty though His foot leaves no impression on the untrodden sand, and His form casts no shadow on the flowers or greensward.  He is standing there in that dingy counting-house, or amid the whirr of the deafening machinery, though He fills no space, and utters no word audible to human ears.  He is standing there in that home, watching the sick, noting unkindness and rudeness, smiling on the little deeds done for His sake, though none ever heard the floors creak
beneath His weight, or saw the doors open to admit His person.  How much we miss because we fail to discern Him!

     By acting thus He not only taught His disciples the reality of His presence, but He prepared them also for that new kind of life which they were henceforth to lead–a life of faith rather than of sense; a life of spiritual communion rather than of physical fellowship.  He kept showing them that, though out of sight, He was still in their midst.  By easy stepping-stones He joined Calvary and Olivet.  By gentle progressive lessons those who had believed because they had seen were taught to walk by faith, not by sight, and to love One whom they did not see.  And thus it came about that they trod no shore however desolate, went to no land however distant, dealt with no people however boorish, without carrying ever with them the thought, The Master is here!

     But let me say here that if you would see Christ everywhere, you must be like John, the disciple of love.  Love will trace Him everywhere, as dear friends detect each other by little touches that are meaningless to others.  Love’s quick eye penetrates disguises impenetrable to colder scrutiny.  Not for the wise, nor for the few, but for the least that love, is the vision possible that can make a desert isle like Patmos gleam with the light of Paradise itself.
III. How great a difference Christ’s directions made!  Before He spoke they were disconsolately dragging an empty net to shore.  The moment after He had spoken, and they had done His bidding, that net was filled with a shoal of fish so heavy that it was no easy matter to drag it behind the ship.

     Great lessons await us here!  We, like these, have embarked in a great fishing enterprise–we are fishers of men!  Our aim is to catch men alive for Christ our Lord.  For this we are ready to toil, to pray, to wait.  But our success depends wholly upon our Lord.  He will not give it us until we can bear it, and have learned the lesson of the night of fruitless toil.  And if we are to succeed it must be in His realized companionship, and in obedience to His word.

     There is a right side of the ship, and a wrong one; there is a time to plant, and a time to be still; to everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven.  We do not know these.  If we are left to ourselves, we may cast the net on the left side of the ship at the time when we should be casting it on the right, and on the right side of the ship when we should be casting it on the left.  Christ alone knows, and He will teach us exactly how and when to act with the very best results.
IV. Christ’s provision for the needs of His servants.  I should imagine that the disciples were somewhat anxious about their bodily needs and their supply.  They did not realize that if they were doing Christ’s work, Christ would look after their real needs.  Christ let them meet with non-success to show how fruitless their toil was.  And in the morning, when He stood on the shore, He filled their nets with fish, and called them to fire and bread and fish, to show how easily He could supply all their need.  Of course this does not apply to all promiscuously, but it does apply to those who give up time, and labor, and earthly toil, for the cause of Christ.  If they are really called to the work, Christ seems to say to them:  “Do the best you can for Me, and do not try in addition to make up for your time and labor by night work–you had better use the night for necessary rest; the longest night spent in unbelieving labor will not profit; but I in a single moment in the morning can more than make up to you for all you have spent.”  Christ never lets us be in His debt.  If we lend Him a boat for pulpit, He weighs it down to the gunwale.  If we give Him time, He makes up what we have lost.  If we seek first the kingdom of God and
His righteousness, He sees that all things else are added.  It is vain for you to rise up early and to sit up late, to eat the bread of carefulness.  He giveth His beloved when they sleep.

     What delicate attentions to these men!  Christ knew that they were drenched with spray, chilled with the keen air, and so He prepared a fire–so thoughtful is He of the tiniest matters that will alleviate discomfort and increase our pleasure.  At the same time He is frugal of the miraculous.  He will deal lavishly in miracles so long as needed, but not an inch beyond.  He might have created fish enough on that fire to supply them all, but that was needless so long as a hundred fifty and three great fishes lay within easy reach; so Jesus said, “Bring of the fish which ye have now caught.”

     When Peter heard John say, “It is the Lord,” true to his character he sprang into the sea and swam to shore, leaving the rest to drag the heavy net as best they could.  Now he seems to remember his failure to bear his share in the toil; so he goes to the margin of the lake, lands the net, counts its contents, and examines the meshes, to find them unbroken, and then returns with fish enough to make a breakfast for them all.  It was only when all this was done that Jesus said to them, “Come and dine.”  Then He came forward and took the bread and fish, and gave to them.  All were convinced that it was Jesus, but they were dumb with amazement and awe; they would have liked to ask questions, but they felt that they need not; their senses were convinced almost in spite of themselves.  “None of the disciples durst ask Him, Who art Thou? knowing that it was the Lord.”

     This, says John, was the third time that Jesus had showed Himself; not
literally the third time that He had shown Himself to any one; but the third time that He had shown Himself to the disciples assembled in any considerable number.  The first time was in the evening of the resurrection day; the second, when Thomas was there; the third, in the incident here recorded.

     We all need our rest times, our times of learning, our times of fellowship with Jesus.  Happy are we when Jesus says, “Come and dine,” and leads us off to sup with Him in desert places!  It may be in the loneliness of nature, or of the sick-bed, or of thwarted love; but, wherever it is, it is well if only He is there to feed us with His own dear hand.

     The time will come when the night of this sunless world shall be over, and the morning of eternity shall break upon us; it may be that in the hour of death we shall find that our work has not been so fruitless as we feared: on the quiet beach we shall see Jesus standing and know that it is He.  Then one last plunge through the chill flood, and we shall partake of the preparations which His love has made, and He will say, “Come and dine.”

     Paul faces the possibility of old age, decay, and death with no rebellion and no sadness. Paul never hid from himself the effect which his work had upon him; he knew it was killing him, and, like his Master, he was old before his time; but there was no whining and no retiring from the work. Paul was not a fool; he did not waste his energy ridiculously, neither did he ignore the fact that it was his genuine apostolic work and nothing else that was wearing him out. Michelangelo said a wonderful thing: “The more the marble wears, the better the image grows,” and it is an illustration of this truth. Every wasting of nerve and brain in work for God brings a corresponding uplifting and strengthening to spiritual muscle and fiber.

-From The Love of God by Oswald Chambers

Picture from AllPosters.com

1. How to dress yourself for Russian winter.  I laughed all the way through this, but I suppose it’s only funny if you have listened to repeated scoldings from Russian grandmothers!

2. Idols Ashes - ”Here I am again, building a funeral pyre on which to sacrifice a vision.  Like the pilgrims of so long ago, I leave a trail of graves behind me as I travel—each one where I have buried a hope, a dream, a goal, a plan, a love.  The only eternal unchangeable in life is Yahweh.  And that is as it should be.”

3. The restoration of the banished - “He spares not His Son, but sends Him in quest of the exiles. He comes into the land of banishment, lies in an exile’s cradle, becomes a banished man for them, lives a banished life, endures an exile’s shame, dies an exile’s death, is buried in an exile’s tomb.”

4. Love and marriage - a great article about what our purpose and goal in life should be.

5. The sandhill cranes are back in Nebraska! My brother took these pictures on a foggy morning.