In the Depths of the Earth

   The old mill house was situated beneath the mossy rocks of a ridge that guarded the stream as it frolicked and laughed it's way through the valley. Water seeped out of the hillside, and dripped continuously down until the earth consumed it again. Hidden by the trees, a yawning entrance to a cave waited expectantly for an adventurous soul to explore it's depths. The grass was lush, ferns abounded, and moss reached with feathery fingers to encircle the trees. If a person had a healthy helping of curiosity they might follow the ruined aqueduct that ran alongside the creek; or, drawn on by the enriching beauty of the shy flowers at their feet, or the song of the water, they would find the origins of this happy little burn. Yet, not the beginnings, for those remain a mystery to me still. There stands an opening to a great cavern, the pool just inside pouring its cool waters into the swimming hole below. Sunlight, no matter how bright, can only penetrate so far. This is where the healthy helping of curiosity must be a hearty one if any were to discover to the full the mysteries that dwell in caves. Lofty corridors and constricting passages led and misled. Stalactites drip, dripped onto the expectant stalagmites, ever growing in silent agreement to a closer union. The bats were furry, and the spiders were large. I cannot inform you of the texture of the spiders, as we didn't pet them. Hidden chambers were guarded by impossible entrances; some perched above sheer waterfalls, others behind narrow, misshapen doorways. Four hours of exploration brought us to a room with terraced pools and a mountain of slippery and shifting rock that glowed as though with moonlight. It was a frightening climb as we were tired, wet and one misstep could have killed. Worn out, broken ropes taunted, as if they could tell of some unfortunate guest's past demise. The light strengthened into daylight and we broke out into the cold sunshine and wind of the world we knew. 

 The impossible "doorway" that I got stuck in.

The hidden entrance

(And what we looked like afterwards. My jeans used to be blue.)

Forget Not Hospitality

"Through the ministry of hospitality, we share our most prized possessions. We share our family, home, finances, food, privacy, and time. Indeed, we share our very lives. So, hospitality is always costly.Through the ministry of hospitality, we provide friendship, acceptance, fellowship, refreshment, comfort, and love in one of the richest and deepest ways possible for humans to understand. Unless we open the doors of our homes to one another, the reality of the local church as a close-knit family of loving brothers and sisters is only a theory."


~ Alexander Strauch, The Hospitality Commands



   Hospitality is an expressly tangible way to show the brotherly love that is paramount in the Christian life. It is a gift to others, a ministry of mercy to the lonely and the lost, and a mainstay that supports the work of the Lord. Furthermore, after the loving service care and raising of ones own children in the ways of the Lord, I can think of no other ministry of greater importance or more fitting for a woman to embrace as her own calling. It not only augments any efforts to reach out to others, but it in turn supplements the training of children, and can bolster and extend the work and effect of the husband's ministry. A virtue of such importance needs to be developed and continually refined.

Heavenly work

Thought it be fraught with frustrations and insurmountable limitations here in this decaying society and sin ridden world, Work is glorious. It was the purpose of God for mankind to work, and done according to His statutes, God promised to bless it, and to give His abundance thereby.  “Therefore you shall do my statutes and keep my rules and perform them, and then you will dwell in the land securely.  The land will yield its fruit, and you will eat your fill and dwell in it securely," Lev. 25:18-19.
Over and again I've heard statements and even promises about what heaven will be like, and rarely do they include any work. More often I hear "We'll get to rest as much as we want," "People will just be sitting on clouds, playing harps," "We won't have to do any thing hard" and the like. Our time there (if I can use that turn of phrase about eternity) will not be for our own use, but for the unending glory of God. Just as our works here are to give Him praise, as well as our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts, we will be created afresh to use the gifts He gives without being hampered by sin and selfish ambition; and it will please Him.
Speaking of heaven with no more death, sorrow, crying, or pain Rushdoony wrote:

What work means in those circumstances is beyond our imagination. We can only dimly guess at it. It will be the unfettered application by man of his dominion under God to creation. It will be the unfrustrated and untainted energy of man applied to creation. It will be man's joyful expression of himself, of the form of the image of God within him, in  terms of his own particular calling and nature. Thus, the new creation, contrary to popular myths, will have very few harpists more than it has now; it will have many of us finding our truest calling in a new world.

R.J.Rusdoony; Revolt Against Maturity, p. 303 Thoburn Press 1977

What is our good?

And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God,

 to them who are the called according to his purpose.

 For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son,

that he might be the firstborn among many brethren.

Rom. 8:28-29  

 

    We don't often hear the whole of this beautiful passage. All too often it's left just as a nice garantee that everythings going to be fine. At times, I've found discouragement even here, when I could not find the good that is being brought about-- that some things did not seem to be to my benefit. I think the problem lay in what I considered to be my good. We are told right here what that entails. God is using all the trials, the struggles, yes, even our failures to conform us to the image of His Son, in His love, His holiness, His purity...  "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." (1 John 3:2) This is His purpose, and He foreordained His children to that purpose. He gave us the assurance that He would work about our sanctification knowing that we of ourselves could never bring that about anymore that we can our own justification. But He will work all things to form us into the image of His Son. This is a promise, and God never fails His promises.

 

He doeth according to his will in the army of heaven,

and among the inhabitants of the earth: and

 none can stay his hand, or say unto him,

What doest thou?

Dan. 4:35

Snow: Curse or Mercy?

I've heard several people say that snow is part of the curse, and at least infer that we should not take a great delight in it. Because winter is something that was not in God's perfectly created world before the curse of sin fell upon it, snow is descendant from the evil that has corrupted that perfection.

But I love snow. I love winter. I love the frost that coats every surface with a wild order and design. I love to catch the flakes as they fall and see their intricacies, and find the different types of snowflakes. The blinding glitter across unbroken fields, the trees waking and shaking off their downy blankets, the soft drifts that provide so much fun for families to enjoy together: how can you simply, and coldly, brush it off as a worthless burden that must be viewed as something to be merely endured until the world is burned and remade into lasting peace.

Perhaps the change of climate that brought us winter did stem from the fall of this world from its wondrous state of untarnished beauty. It probably never snowed in that perfect garden. And that was good. But how merciful of God to temper even the results of so dreadful a curse with such glory. The Father did not leave us and all creation to groan alone under the weight of destruction, but He lifted it, placed it on Himself, and left His fingerprints for us to find.