Besides, you know the time has come; the moment is here for you to stop sleeping and wake up, because by now our salvation is nearer than when we first began to believe.
Ro 13:11
The New Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday, 1985)
I have heard of a painter who loved to work by the morning light. He said that the colors were better understood by the light of the early day, and so he was wont to be in his studio waiting for the rising of the sun. Then every moment it grew lighter, and he found he could accomplish things which he could not reach if he waited till the day had advanced.
Is there not work waiting for us—work that no one else can do—work, too, that the Master has promised to help us perform? Shall He come and find that we still sleep? Or shall the Sun of Righteousness, when He appears, find us waiting, as that painter waited, looking and longing for the first gleam of day? Surely those of us who thus wait on the Lord shall renew our strength, and eagle-like, rise to greet the Sun.
Thomas Champness
Samuel G. Hardman and Dwight Lyman Moody, Thoughts for the Quiet Hour (Willow Grove, PA: Woodlawn Electronic Publishing, 1997).
LAURENCE from a child longed to be a Saint; and when he was nineteen years of age there was granted to him a vision of the Eternal Wisdom. All earthly things paled in his eyes before the ineffable beauty of this sight, and as it faded away a void was left in his heart which none but God could fill. Refusing the offer of a brilliant marriage, he fled secretly from his home at Venice, and joined the Canons Regular of St. George. One by one he crushed every natural instinct which could bar his union with his Love. When Laurence first entered religion, a nobleman went to dissuade him from the folly of thus sacrificing every earthly prospect. The young monk listened patiently in turn to his friend’s affectionate appeal, scorn, and violent abuse Calmly and kindly he then replied. He pointed out the shortness of life, the uncertainty of earthly happiness, and the incomparable superiority of the prize he sought to any his friend had named. The nobleman could make no answer; he felt in truth that Laurence was wise, himself the fool. He left the world, became a fellow-novice, with the Saint, and his holy death bore every mark that he too had secured the treasures which never fail. As superior and as general, Laurence enlarged and strengthened his Order, and as bishop of his diocese, in spite of slander and insult, thoroughly reformed his see. His zeal led to his being appointed the first patriarch of Venice, but he remained ever in heart and soul an humble priest thirsting for the sight of heaven. At length the eternal vision began to dawn. “Are you laying a bed of feathers for me?” he said. “Not so; my Lord was stretched on a hard and painful tree.” Laid upon the straw, he exclaimed in rapture, “Good Jesus, behold I come.” He died A.D. 1435, aged seventy-four.
John Gilmary Shea
Pictorial Lives of the Saints (New York; Cincinnati; Chicago: Benziger Brothers, 1887)
We are to go forward in life with eyes ever on the prize of heavenly eternal life. The time is short for us to realize our heavenly birth is near. It approaches quickly, silently. Are you still asleep? Are you ready?
May the good Lord bless and keep you safe.
Remember to "Always Love The Details."
