The stillness of the African night was shattered by a piercing scream. Fair-skinned, red-haired Mary Slessor hurried out of her hut, a concerned look on her face. As she stood listening, she heard the sound of yelling and drumming growing steadily louder in the distance.
"Also from among yourselves men will rise up, speaking perverse things, to draw the disciples after themselves. Therefore watch, and remember that for three years I did not cease to warn everyone night and day with tears." Acts 20:30-31 A dusky haze settled over the muggy summer evening
If I am soft to myself and slide comfortably into the vice of self-pity and self-sympathy; if I do not by the grace of God practice fortitude, then I know nothing of calvary love.- Amy CarmichaelMarissa pulled her car into the driveway of her little blue house and sighed as a feeling of heaviness descended upon her. It had been a hard week. Actually, it had been a hard year.
I sat up groggily as the alarm clock beeped, groaning at the unwelcome intrusion into my comfortable sleep. Rubbing my hand across my eyes, I contemplated pressing the snooze button and dozing for an extra thirty minutes.
It was 1905. Seventeen-year-old Lillian Trasher stepped into the bustling editor’s office at a big-city newspaper, nervously clutching her sketchpad. Her heart beat excitedly at the flurry of activity around her as typewriters clicked and reporters scribbled furiously on notepads. Landing a lucrative job as a newspaper artist had been a long-time dream of Lillian’s.
Our culture has done a very good job of convincing us that being fearful is equivalent to being wise. After all, if we simply take a few self-protective precautions, we can have a much more protected life.
Every January, our family tries to get away somewhere together for a couple of weeks (preferably to a warm destination!) to rest, refuel, and build fun memories together before we head full swing into the intensity of a new year. Some of our most precious and memorable moments have happened on