Is thy cruse of comfort failing?
     Rise and share it with a friend,
And through all the years of famine
     It shall serve thee to the end.
Love divine will fill thy storehouse,
     Or thy handful still renew;
Scanty fare for one will often
     Make a royal feast for two.

For the heart grows rich in giving;
     All its wealth is living grain;
Seeds—which mildew in the garner—
     Scattered, fill with gold the plain.
Is thy burden hard and heavy?
     Do thy steps drag wearily?
Help to lift thy brother’s burden—
     God will bear both it and thee.

Numb and weary, on the mountains,
     Wouldst thou sleep amidst the snow?
Chafe that frozen form beside thee,
     And together both shall glow.
Art thou stricken in life’s battle?
     Many wounded ‘round thee moan;
Lavish on their wounds thy balsam,
     And that balm shall heal thine own.

From the periodical, Gems of Truth

What an amazing Creator God is!

I pledge allegiance to the Constitution

of the United States of America,

And to the Bill of Rights which It includes:

One document

underwritten by our fathers,

indivisible,

with Liberty and Justice for all.

They  found Washington and diligently requested that he take a selected group of young people from their tribe to be trained in school. Washington encouraged them saying that Congress would look on them as children of their own, later telling the chiefs:

You do well to wish to learn our arts and way of life, and above all the religion of Jesus Christ. These will make you a greater and happier people than you are. Congress will do everything they can to assist you in this wise intention.

May we also be a wiser and happier people by giving all diligence to add to our faith virtue, to virtue knowledge and to knowledge self-control. . . .

Picture from MountVernon.org.

“Nor should Peter Miller be remembered for his scholarship alone. One of the most touching episodes in American history is that of his efforts to save the life of Michael Widman, an acknowledged Tory who was condemned to be hung as a traitor. He had been particularly abusive to Peter Miller, even spitting in his face on one occasion. But when sentence was pronounced Peter Miller set out on foot for Washington’s headquarters at Valley Forge to plead for mercy. Washington had great respect for Miller, but replied:

‘Friend Miller, there is scarcely anything in this world that I would deny you, but such is the state of public affairs that it would be fatal to our cause not to be stringent, inexorable in such matters, and make examples of renegades to the cause of Liberty; otherwise I should most cheerfully release your friend.’

‘Friend!’ replied Miller . . . ‘He is my worst enemy—my most incessant reviler. For a friend I might not importune you; but Widman being, and, having been for years, my worst foe, my malignant, persecuting, enemy, my religion teaches me “To pray for those who despitefully use me”.’

“The tears coursed down the brave old Commander’s cheek and, taking Miller by the hand, he replied: ‘My dear friend, I thank you for this lesson of Christian charity. I cannot resist such a manifestation of our divine religion; the pardon shall be granted on one condition, and that is, that you be the bearer of it yourself, and hand it to the commanding officer at Turk’s Head in Widman’s presence.’

“Traveling twenty miles by foot that night, Miller arrived in time to deliver the pardon as directed. As Michael Widman at the foot of the gallows confessed his treacherous acts and asked for forgiveness from those whom he had wronged, including Peter Miller, the pardon was delivered.”

Well, a study of the twelve constellations won’t foretell your fortune but it will fan the flames of your faith.

The names of the stars in Egyptian, Arabic and Syriac, as well as Hebrew give clues to what the original meaning of those “signs” were. Cancer, for instance, “the crab”, has an original meaning of “to hold close”, “to keep”. Originally it was not a crab at all but a type of sheepfold or inn where wanderers would find safe haven. By the way, since the star cluster at the center of cancer can mean “a manger” I wonder if it might be the first constellation to open the gospel story, followed by Leo, the Lion of the tribe of Judah picturing the prophecies that preceded Christ’s birth—If so, the constellations would begin their saga at the beginning of the Hebrew year in March or April—But for simplicity’s sake let me follow this outline as it is in the book I am referencing: God’s Voice in the Stars. For every observer they weave a beautiful and timeless story.

This story is for you.

• Virgo
  tells how Christ came to us as the Incarnate Son of God
• Libra
  tells how Christ was worthy to pay the balance of our sin debt
• Scorpio
  tells how Christ suffered in the mortal conflict for the crown
• Sagittarius (coming up in August!)
  tells how Christ “hit the mark” as conqueror
• Capricornus (along with Delphinus)
  tells how Christ brought life out of death
• Aquarius (along with Pegasus)
  tells how Christ will bring satisfaction and blessing
• Pisces
  tells how Christ brings liberation to the captive
• Aries
  tells how Christ brings glory out of humiliation
  Note: the sun gradually made its course through Aries, the Lamb, between the first Passover and the Crucifixion
• Taurus
  tells how Christ will come as Judge
• Gemini
  tells how Christ will come as King
• Cancer (along with Ursa Major and Ursa Minor)
  tells how Christ will bring eternal safety to His own
• Leo
  tells how Christ will bring eternal justice to His enemies

There it is, the story of the ages: written across the sky, un-aged by time, un-erased by a terrestrial tide of change. It can hardly be condensed in a post! They each reach their zenith in a Person: Christ.

It was hoarse whisper. I was flat on my face, in the grass on the hillside. My left hand grasped my single weapon and I kept my head low. Advances had been made, but the enemy, thoroughly aroused, now swarmed through the area. I had been hit once but thankfully it was a minor wound.

Outnumbered by over a hundred to one, there was only one recourse: the PrAir Force! A “flare prayer” is an urgent petition to God that comes directly from the heart in a desperate situation. In this situation I knew that rain would be the only force guaranteed to drive the enemy forces back into their barracks. And even a brief couple of minutes would be enough time to complete the mission before the deadline.

That morning, my rising time was 3:30. At 5:05 it was time to gear up. My boots were not of military material, just second-grade farm boots. Goggles and ear plugs were enough for head gear. My “weapon” was the weed-whacker, well-fueled.

A few steps up the hill I realized something was wrong. My left boot had a hole just large enough to let in generous amounts of moisture from the dewy grass. I made a quick turnaround, secured boots first-grade, and remounted the hill. Would it be too late? Several minutes later I arrived at the enemy outpost: the far beehives, shrouded in overgrown weeds. It was the weeds, not the bees, that were the actual “enemies” in this scenario. But the bees could be enemies if they wanted to. And if they sensed disruption they would want to. I hoped they had not yet begun their morning drills. It was about 5:30, half an hour before official sunrise. Dark clouds were gathering, all but obscuring the morning sunlight. The deadline was 6:30.

It was barely light enough to see. Lightning flickered in the south. Gingerly I worked my way below the hives to see if there was any sign of activity. To my dismay I saw a blanket of bees covering much of the hive’s front. According to Michael, they are often on the alert early, or even all night long, during the longer summer days. I could hear them too. They were poised for action, itching for enough light to begin their flights. Stooping down so that the silhouette of the hive’s entrance showed against the sky, I discovered that very few were flying. I had a little time.

Mission One was priority: trimming around the hedge of holly bushes. Eleven of them semi-circled the hives at a distance of about 8 feet. Everything was gray but I could make them out. With the weed-whacker humming I circled the first one cautiously. Success! The second one was smaller and harder to see but soon it was done. Three. Four. Now I was directly in front of the hives, in the bees’ flight path, trying to keep low. At about bush number eight it became necessary to stop and cut away some netting from one of the bushes. That took some time. When I finished the hedge it was well past 6:00.

Mission Two. Wearing Michael’s elbow-length bee gloves and encouraged by a light sprinkle of rain, I decided to advance inward and do around the hives themselves. I kept repeating Michael’s words “Those hives are the more gentle hives”, “Those hives are the more gentle hives” . . .

In the same counter-clockwise motion, I began a sweep directly in front of the hives, tilting the weed-whacker to keep the clippings from spraying the hives. I passed the first one then the second—the big one—and the third. At around hive number four came the first sign of trouble: a bee caught in my hair. This can be a harmless occurrence and it is harder for a bee trapped in your hair to actually sting, but it does make that bee angry and it’s a sign that there are probably other bees going into defense mode at the same time. I crouched lower and sped up a little. It didn’t help. I felt a couple more “dive-bombers” hitting my scalp, then a sting on my right leg. I certainly deserved it. To escape I crept away from the hive slowly and flattened myself on the ground. The sprinkle had not been enough! Looking up against the dim sky I could see the ever-present clouds, but also now, dozens of bees. They were not running their simple back and forth flights, they were buzzing about seeking the source of their disturbance. It was hard to believe I had been standing there where the bees now swarmed.

What now? Surrender and go home? This job was for Michael. And a sting or two was to be expected. I might never get another morning to take care of this job, let alone an early morning with a chance of rain! If only it would rain! The time was about 6:20. If it rained now there would be enough time to finish the job.

It was also a time to reevaluate my motives. I was confident that if my motives truly were one of a servant, I could trust the will of my Commander in Chief. This was His operation. Certainly He could send help from above. There in the grass I remembered that the success of the mission depends upon my relationship with the One who sent me on the mission.

That is when I prayed “Lord, please make it rain NOW!” A bolt of lightning added quite the dramatic affect. My expectations “brightened”. But then I realized that with the bees in an agitated state it might take a particularly hard rain to dissuade them from pursuing their target. I hadn’t thought of that. So I added: “Please make it rain now, HARD” and then breathed an “Amen”. Hardly was the word out of my mouth when there came another splendid bolt of lightning. The drizzle turned into rain, huge drops of rain, and the rain into a downpour—a downpour you would hardly believe, a downpour I would hardly believe! He did it! He really did it! For me!

I stood up, I picked up the weed-whacker once more and completed the mission. I trimmed behind the hives. I finished in front—their very doorstep! The bees had gone inside! The field was mine! Even “Mission 2” was complete! The last weeds fell. I gathered the netting scraps and jogged home. Inside, the clock read 6:32.

How often in these past months the same scenario has presented itself in various ways. What a different, frustrated person I would certainly be if I didn’t have the smile of the Commander in Chief Whom we have chosen to serve. He finds so many ways to put meaning in our tasks. He transforms the to-do list into a treasure chest of stories: sometimes a wild adventure, sometimes a sense of peace, assurance, and fulfillment. Either way, we may encourage our heart in the Lord, as David did when the going was tough. (See I Samuel 30:6.) The Lord is worthy of our loyalty. He is worthy of everything we have. On His side we can continue our advance, moving onward and upward in the battle.

Activate the PrAir Force in your family. Make prayer a regular thing. Then as you go into the day “Keep your powder dry and a flare prayer at the ready” for any kind of surprise situation may arise. (Do keep your flares in a different pouch than your powder though.)  Remember your Commander as you complete His mission. He is in charge and He is ready always to send help from above.

“As free . . . but as the servants of God” (I Peter 2:16).

It was July 8, the long-awaited day. For the first time in history, West Virginia would be home to a Family Encouragement Weekend! Six o’clock was starting time; 4:30 was dinner time; and the doors had opened at 3:00. Since 3:00, a thousand last-minute preparations were made. The church was ready. The chalk easel was set up. A feast was prepared in the kitchen.

Eventually four o’clock rolled around and we still  had no one. Major Mike made a run to another church on the same road to check and see if attendees had parked there instead by mistake. He returned alone.

Now, of the many invited, the ones to RSVP seemed to be those of a dependable nature—Surely there had been a major mistake on the directions! Or was there? Whether the answer to that question was yes or no, we were convinced, (partly from our own experience attending family conferences) that this was a time of intense spiritual warfare. We knew that somewhere out there the families were fighting: fighting the clock, fighting the enemy, fighting their own human nature to be able to come. Four fifteen. . . . Four twenty. . . . A miracle was about to happen.

But already we had seen many miracles:

A mere two weeks and two days before, a location had been provided. Without internet, we began making the invitations by phone, once reaching four different very-busy pastors within the space of about  an hour. Jonathan took careful notes to make a site map during the first trip to the church, Michael agreed to help on registration, and James tackled design projects on the schedule, hotel locations, and maps, while Esther, David, and Mom thought through every detail concerning the menu, orchestra and guest arrangements. During Robert and Kendalyn’s visit, Robert solved our internet connection problem—without the service fee! (Later, after his return to Chicago, the dreaded problem did resurface but the Lord intervened and it was taken care of by a couple of diligent non-professionals ) Wise advice from the Wilkes Team poured in and the Neely Team found a way to print the name tags for three cents each. At about the same time a $500 check from another church came as a surprise gift. God was clearly at work!

And truly, at that late notice, every single RSVP was a miracle but the list of families grew; by ten, by two; some from Parkersburg and Morgantown, then Maryland, North Carolina and New Hampshire!

.

Yes, many miracles and one solid week of work had  brought us to this day and we didn’t expect the Lord to stop working. Yes, no one who waits on Him is confounded. . . . That evening, in direct answer to prayer, the house was full!

Despite the short notice that there would be a West Virginia  FEW at all, a total of nearly 100 people came to affirm the importance of the family and learn how to build strong family relationships.

• 11 had their homes destroyed
• 5 were hunted and captured
• Abraham Clark had two sons imprisoned on the British starving ship Jersey
• John Witherspoon’s son was killed in battle
• Francis Lewis’ wife was imprisoned and died from the harsh treatment
• Many, such as Thomas Nelson and Carter Braxton, lost their fortunes
• 9 died during the War.

After the Declaration was signed, John Adams wrote:

“You will think me transported with enthusiasm but I am not. I am well aware of the toil and blood and treasure, that it will cost us to maintain this Declaration, and support and defend these States.
“Yet through all the gloom I can see the rays of ravishing light and glory. I can see that the end is more than worth all the means.
“And that Posterity will triumph in that Days Transaction, even although we should rue it, which I trust in God We shall not.”

~

With equal veneration we are reminded of another One whose blood alone authoritatively signed our independence from the dictates of sin:

“Christ also suffered for us . . .
Who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth: Who when He was reviled, reviled not again; when He suffered He threatened not; . . . Who His own self bare our sins in His own body on the tree; that we, being dead to sins, should live unto righteousness: by Whose stripes ye were healed” (I Peter 2:21, 23, 24).

~

Facts and quote taken from Bill Federer’s American Minute