Questions & Answers
Happy you believing you have lost an opportunity to bless—only to receive another and yet another! Happy you finding your sonship with Him—right when you're working to make people friends with one another! Happy you receiving compassion because you gave it! Happy you so completely satisfied in that deep longing for what is real, for what is right with God! Happy you glimpsing God through the looking glass of your utter sincerity! Happy you unbroken, remaining loyal to the beauty and reality of His sovereignty—even while it is being misunderstood and maligned! Happy you finding the meaning of true value, true possession, in the power and poise of humility! Happy you! Godfrey John.
At home he was and ready on lake shore, in city, to receive, to nourish, to heal, to inspire. They came, sometimes alone, even at night, like Nicodemus; sometimes increasing to a multitude.
Dawn gently pares away the night, A silent breeze blows out a lingering star— There on the mountaintop I see day kneeling. I too would kneel.
What The Christian Science Monitor brings to this side of the Atlantic is more than paper, ink, and words. There are ideas there, spiritual facts that evidence the precedence of the Christ in human thought.
It's Sunday morning. This hour is born of prayer.
No invitation needed, ready, waiting, in healing portions; digested, brings contentment— satisfies and heals. Fred Challinor.
Can a book be Gilead's balm healing the hurt of all mankind? Can a book be a guiding star brightening the path through dark chaos for weary seekers searching for the simplicity of Christ, Truth? Can a book be a pastor shepherding a flock through day's trials comforting through night's alarms? Yes. The little book can be these things.
A need is only the space shaped to receive a precise dispensation of grace. Inkling it is of an exact fit: not light diffused, not formless gift but substance scaled unerringly to match some further seek for it.
Nowhere too hard for me in Thy embrace; Nowhere too dark for me to see Thy grace; Nowhere too cold for me within Thy care; Nowhere too far for Thee to hear my prayer. Fenella Farrar Bennetts.
I am lodged in it: have taken up residence— permanently, you might say, for the arrangement is not an emergency one: no panic rush (as if to sandbagged bunker or trench) when the siren sounds and everybody else is caught, unprepared, in the terrible rain. This ark is my home.