Monday, March 27, 2017
Then those who feared the Lord spoke to one another,
And the Lord listened and heard them;
So a book of remembrance was written before Him
For those who fear (worship) the Lord
And who meditate on His name.
“They are Mine,” says the Lord of hosts… (Malachi 3:16).
Some years ago the boys and I spent a week on an abandoned backcountry ranch on the Salmon River. One day, exploring the ranch, I came across anancient grave with a wooden marker. Whatever inscription the marker may have borne, it had long since weathered away.
Someone—I think it was Tolstoy—said the best of us is remembered for about 100 years. The rest of us are soon forgotten.
“What are our markers,” I thought, “but monuments to the forgetfulness of the living?” The memories of past generations, like our own gravestones, quickly crumble away.
No matter. We can love the Lord and serve Him in our generation and leave the remembering to Him.
Playing Second Fiddle It's said that the hardest instrument to play is second fiddle. I thought of that old adage this morning as I...
Two or Three “And it came to pass, when Joshua was by Jericho, that he lifted his eyes and looked, and behold, a Man stood opposite h...
The Tree "When they came to Marah, they could not drink the water of Marah because it was bitter; therefore it was named Marah. An...
Behind Closed Doors “What should I do then, mem?” “Go your way, laddie … and say your prayers.” — The Fisherman's Lady , by ...