ANOTHER SMOKE SIGNAL-DON'T STOP, KEEP PLAYING

Jan Ignancy Paderewski was born in Poland in 1860, and as well as becoming his country's first Prime Minister, he is also remembered as an internationally-famous virtuoso pianist and composer. Paderewski played in the opening season of Carnegie Hall in 1891 and along with New York and many other cities, Jan Ignancy Paderewski - surely a name that only a mother and perhaps a friendly critic could love! - also came to Vancouver. As often happens with the best of pianists, Paderewski brought his grand piano with him. And at Vancouver, the last stop on the tour, after it had done yeoman concert service and been carried for many thousands of gruelling recital miles, the piano was put up for sale.

On another occasion, a young mother in some major unnamed city had a dream and a wish that her young son might someday become a concert pianist. But her encouragement for him to practice, practice, practice fell on deaf ears.

"If only he could hear and see Paderewski play," she thought. "Perhaps it would inspire him."

As fortune would have it - forgive me, but it's a turn of phrase that's always used in stories like these - Paderewski came to town and the mother bought two tickets. On the evening of the recital, she dressed her son in his concert best and off they went to see the famous man play. At the hall, distracted by the crowd, by friends and neighbors, she didn't see her son heading off to the stage, drawn to the shining piano that stood waiting to be played. He climbed onto the huge bench and began to peck out the chords of Chopsticks, familiar to anyone who has even been close to a piano. "Who's the kid?" someone yelled. "Get him off the stage!" "Who'd bring a kid here anyway?"

In his dressing room, Paderewski heard the commotion and the music. He grabbed his coat and ran towards the stage. As he stood at the edge of the curtain, he saw the young lad, pecking out that simple tune and smiled. He raced to the boy and whispered his encouragement in the boy's ear to keep going; then the Polish maestro engulfed him with his arms and improvised a spectacular accompaniment around the rhythm of Chopsticks' simple chords.

The crowd became enthralled and were silenced as they listened in awe, cheering the performance as Paderewski and the boy proudly took their bows. "Don't quit," whispered Paderewski. "Keep playing. Keep practicing. Be persistent." I don't know whether or not that young boy ever made it to the concert stage. But I suspect that Paderewski's encouragement kept him going, and opened the doors that night to a new world of musical appreciation. If nothing else at all had come from that chance encounter, it still would have been a great, great gift.

On the stage of life, the LORD has given those of us who are born of His Spirit some lessons on God and His Word; we've been granted truth, grace, knowledge, gifts and insights by the Spirit of the LORD; perhaps they are not so profound, perhaps they are deemed as of little use by those more mature in the faith. Perhaps our use of these regal resources of the King might be perceived as crude, or simplistic and disdained by the more sophisticated and intellectual members of the body.

It's one thing to receive discouragement from the world; but ought we ever to face such harassment from those who are called to be holy? Sadly, this is sometimes the case. Bravely still, we climb up onto the bench, and with what little we know, bang out the simple tune, maybe the only tune we know. We only know a little of scripture, we possess only a small portion of wisdom, our prayers are simple and halting and compared with those of others, unpolished and rough.

We may feel that we have little to offer, and because of the sounds of disdain and wry patronizing we are sorely tempted to give up. Yet our LORD hears the grumbling crowd, and He rushes in, and with the everlasting arms surround us with His almighty strength and ability. He overshadows us with the brilliance of His grace and love and bends low to whisper in our hearts:

"DON'T GIVE UP! Keep playing. Keep practicing. Be persistent!"

And then in an exquisite harmony, He doesn't play over our little tune in volumous, resounding keystrokes, nullifying our own feeble attempts; He plays in accord with our poor melody, and embellishes it in the richness of His own majesty.

Had not that little boy ever braved the stage and climbed up onto that piano bench, he would have never gained such an experience as he did; the crowds would have been mesmerized still, most certainly but not as much as they were when they witnessed the maestro using the boys simple tune and creating a duet that astounded and delighted.

Likewise we won't know or understand what God can do, if we don't make ourselves available, if we don't get on the stage of life, and brave that bench, and place our fingers on those keys, and obediently play our poor, simple tune. It is then that God shall arise, and approach and surround us with His beauty and glory and minister by His Spirit in ways we could never otherwise imagine.

DON'T QUIT IN LIFE or IN THE WAR!

Step out in faith, don't stop, keep practicing, be persistent, by God's empowering grace remain diligent and endure. Don't quit! In the battle of life, when enemy forces seem insurmountable, invincible and growing in power constantly and we want to hold out our hands in surrender and despondancy, remember these words by Winston Churchill, and apply them spiritually with our engagement against the forces of hell -

"We shall not flag or fail. We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and the oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender. . . . And if, which I do not for a moment believe, this island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our empires beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, will carry on the fight, until in God's own time the new world in its power and might steps forth to the rescue and liberation of the old."

Remember, God doesn't call us into this Christian life and warfare in the power of our own strength, with our own resolve or wisdom, or know-how; God commands us and then empowers us to obey that command. All we need do is step out in obedience, get on the stage or battle field, climb on that bench or stand fast in the shoes shod with the preparation of the Gospel of Peace and do what we can: God will intervene and assume the fulfillment of His will, through us! All to the glory of God!

Job 17:9
The righteous also shall hold on his way, and he that hath clean hands shall be stronger and stronger.
John 15:9
As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love.

Gal 6:9
And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.

Hebrews 12:1-2
Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us,
Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.

1Peter 1:13
Wherefore gird up the loins of your mind, be sober, and hope to the end for the grace that is to be brought unto you at the revelation of Jesus Christ;

Rev 3:11-12
Behold, I come quickly: hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take thy crown.
Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out: and I will write upon him the name of my God, and the name of the city of my God, which isnew Jerusalem, which cometh down out of heaven from my God: and I will write upon him my new name.

May the LORD Bless you and continually encourage and empower you! You are not in this alone! GOD is with us, in us, and will see us through everything He had ordained to come into our lives!


Hebrews 13:5
Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

A Christmas Story - The Rifle

The following was copied from The CAMEL STOP web site 

A Christmas Story

"The Rifle"

By: Rian B. Anderson

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.

It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted so bad that year for Christmas.

We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible. So after supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible.

I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though; I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.

Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see.

We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this. But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens.

Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what. Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up the big sled unless we were going to haul a big load. Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy.

When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on. When we had exchanged the sideboards Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood--the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing?

Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"

"You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked. The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "why?"

"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt." That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him.

We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait. When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked. "Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."

We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy? Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us. It shouldn't have been our concern.

We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"

"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?" Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all.

Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it. She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children---sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.

"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said, then he turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring enough in to last for awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and, much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too. In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks and so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak.

My heart swelled within me and a joy filled my soul that I'd never known before. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people. I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord himself has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."

In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it. Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.

Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their pa, and I was glad that I still had mine. At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven."

"It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two older brothers and two older sisters were all married and had moved away. Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, "'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."

Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough.

Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. So, Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand." I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it.

Just then the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children. For the rest of my life, whenever I saw any of the Jensens, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

EPHESIANS: PARTAKERS of LIGHT in DARK DAYS of EVIL - PT I & II - CH. 5:1-33

Previously in chapter four of Ephesians we examined much of that which involves the body of Christ, and what's been known as 'body ministry' or that ministry that takes place within the church, among the saints themselves. Verse 16 is a key to the latter half of the chapter -

EPHESIANS 4:16
From whom the whole body fitly joined together and compacted by that which every joint supplieth, according to the effectual working in the measure of every part, maketh increase of the body unto the edifying of itself in love.