Do We See Plants Growing?

January 1, 1842, Katy went to visit Mrs. Campbell and recorded some of their conversation: [From Stepping Heavenward]

"I have a great many little trials, but they don't do me a bit of good. Or, at least, I don't see that they do."

"No, we never see plants growing," she said.

"And do you really think then, that perhaps I am growing, though unconsciously?"

"I know you are, dear child. There can't be life without growing."

This comforted me, I came home, praying all the way and striving to commit myself entirely to Him in whose school I sit as a learner. Oh, that I were a better scholar! But I do not half learn my lessons, I am heedless and inattentive, and I forget what is taught. Perhaps this is the reason that weighty truths float before my mind's eye at times but do not fix themselves there.

[Can't we all identify in this as we do so much else insofar as Katy is concerned? ~ mr]

All Hail the Power of Jesus' Name

An Eventful Train Ride

While Providence supports,

Let saints securely dwell;

That hand, which bears all nature up,

Shall guide his children well.

~~Philip Doddridge

An encounter. Maybe that would have been a better title for Chapter 6. But the title I gave to the companion's corresponding chapter will do well enough, since it was an encounter that made the train ride eventful. We saw Horace get wonderfully saved in the last episode and at the beginning of this one, he had regained most of his strength and vitality after his affliction. He had become both fatherless and motherless upon the death of his father, and was returning home on a train after that event. It is here that the author introduced two of the principals of this story: Annie and Maggie. I love the way Mrs. Prentiss wove these two young ladies into Horace's consciousness as he sat near them on his ride home. Actually, there were four young ladies sitting together and chatting at first, but from the mind of our young hero, we watched while two of them got off at the stop before his, and we also took note that he was relieved to see which two remained. We also had opportunity to see his chivalry and then experienced his befuddlement when one of the remaining two young ladies recognized him from some time in the past:

"Who is she? Where can I have met her?" he vainly asked himself. But he had presence of mind enough not to ask her, and he did not pretend to conceal that he was glad to see her, trusting soon to learn, in conversation, who she really was.

But he didn't find out who she was. He only pretended to know and that was a blunder on his part. By the time the chapter ended, with all three of them getting off at the same stop, they all parted with Horace bewildered and confused. You'll have to read it to see it all unfold. It's really quite amusing, I'd say.

But what did I see in this chapter? More than anything else, I see the providence of our God. Not only in the encounter itself, but also in all that led up to it. I see God ordering the steps of this young man who had just recently returned to Him from captivity by the world. And even though it ends with Horace in a state of bewilderment, we leave it knowing that we had been given just a taste of big things to come.

What do you know of God's providence in your life? Is He ordering your steps, even in times of confusion and uncertainty? We'll see what He does in the life of our hero as the plot progresses. His life, albeit fictitious, has been written in this precious little book, authored by one who knew firsthand of the workings of a loving Savior in the life of His children. Our lives have been written out by this same Savior and we should face our futures knowing that all that He ordains is right, and He holds our books in His hand.

"Am I My Brother's Keeper?"

Am I my brother’s keeper? Yes,      

I owe him love and care;

The word of counsel and of cheer;

The power of earnest prayer.

When fierce temptation shakes his soul,

My strength should be his stay;

When flattering voices lure to sin,

My form should bar his way.

When sickness lays him low, my time,

My faithful ministries,

My health, my courage, all I have,

Should patiently be his.

And when his day of life grows dark,

And tears his eye bedim,

Mine is the heart to feel his grief,

To sympathize with him.

My brother’s keeper, then, am I;

O Christ, within me shine,

That mine may be the sacred joy

To help him to be Thine.

~ From Heart-Hymns of the Christian Life

Thoughts About Katy's Brother

A few of Katy's thoughts about her brother James:

"I have often thought that she would be a rare woman who could win him; he is handsome and talented and attractive; everybody is fascinated by him, everybody caresses him; and yet he has turned his back on the world that has dealt so kindly with him and given himself, as Jonathan Edwards says, 'clean away to Christ!'" ~ Stepping Heavenward, January 1, 1842 entry

[So it's the latter half of this description which makes him a rare treasure, wouldn't you agree? ~ mr]

The King is Coming

Upon writing an article on education for a magazine, Mrs Prentiss opened with a discourse on the birth of a new baby...

The King is at hand. Heralds have been announcing his advent in language incomprehensible to man, but which woman understands as she does her alphabet. A dainty basket, filled with mysteries half hidden, half displayed; soft little garments, folded away in ranks and files; here delicate lace and cambric; there down and feathers and luxury. The King has come. Limp and pink, a nothing and nobody, yet welcomed and treasured as everything and everybody, his wondrous reign begins. His kingdom is the world. His world is peopled by two human beings. Yesterday, they were a boy and girl. Today, they are man and woman, and are called father and mother.

Their new King is imperious. He has his own views as to the way he shall live and move and have his being. He has his own royal table, at which he presides in royal pomp. His waiting-maid is refined and educated—his superior in every way. He takes his meals from her when he sees fit; if he cannot sleep, he will not allow her to do so. His treasurer is a man whom thousands look up to, and reverence, but, in this little world, he is valued only for the supplies he furnishes, the equipages he purchases, the castle in which young royalty dwells. The picture is not unpleasing, however; the slaves have the best of it, after all. 

The reign is not very long. Two years later, there is a descent from the throne, to make room for the Queen. She is a great study to him. He puts his fingers into her eyes to learn if they are little blue lakelets. He grows chivalrous and patronizing. So the world of home goes on. The King and Queen give place to new Kings and Queens, but, though dethroned, they are still royal; their wants are forestalled, they are fed, clothed, instructed, but above all beloved. When did their education begin? At six months? A year? Two years? No; it began when they began; the moment they entered the little world they called theirs. Every touch of the mother’s hand, every tone of her voice, educates her child. It never remembers a time when she was not its devoted lover, servant, vassal, slave.  Many an ear enjoys, is soothed by music, while ignorant of its laws. So the youngest child in the household is lulled by uncomprehended harmonies from its very birth. Affections group round and bless it, like so many angels; it could not analyze or comprehend an angel, but it could feel the soft shelter of his wings.

Great Gain in Great Loss

Jesus, my all in all thou art;

My rest in toil, my ease in pain,

The medicine of my broken heart,

In war my peace, in loss my gain...

~~Charles Wesley

 So now it's time for another segment of reflections stimulated by my beloved companion to Aunt Jane's Hero. I originally posted most of the following thoughts on my Scraps of Glory blog in February of 2008. Goodness, how time flies. Here it is more than four years later and the same thoughts are still as fresh and new as they were then in my opinion. I have to say that the book itself, well over a century old, is still fresh and new to anybody who would pick it up to read. How wise Mrs. Prentiss was to give us all this in the form of fiction! Now, these thoughts from Chapter 5:

". . .The Young Men's Christian Association opened its arms to him; he became interested in the once-despised Mission School, and once or twice his voice was heard at the weekly prayer-meeting which he never used to attend. He felt, at times, that he had gained through loss; that he was a happier, better man; and yet a voice often whispered in his ear; that next to the love of God he needed the love of a Christian woman."

Horace? Is this speaking of Horace? Yes, a different Horace as you can clearly see. These final lines of the chapter are evidence that the most wonderful thing that could possibly happen to any wandering young man had occurred--he had been brought back to his God. In Horace's case, it had happened as a result of the heavy hand of divine providence. The episode is a stirring account of how our young hero, in the midst of great loss, came into possession of great gain, even Christ. We stand in awe, as if this fictional character were someone we knew.

One night, during prayer time at our church, someone asked prayer for their wayward son. At that point I took a mental excursion around the room and counted four families who have either a son or a daughter who has strayed. As I thought about them, I thought of Horace and what happened to him in this chapter. I don't wish on any of these young people that they'd experience a loss such as the one Horace endured; but, oh, I pray they'll lay hold of his gain. Then, my thoughts went even further to ponder whether any of these parents would just as soon see God have hard dealings with their wandering ones if it's the only way. It's a tough call--to an area of prayer where any parent would tread with trepidation.

[Note: I've intentionally not mentioned what Horace's great loss was. Remember, these posts are little prods to get you to read the book! ~mr]