Peter the Great, Czar of all Russia, and in some respects the mightiest monarch of his day, used to make shoes like a common cobbler, that he might enter into sympathy with his people and help them to realize that labour is not menial, but honorable and full of dignity. It was a great stoop from the throne of Russia to a cobbler’s bench, but I will tell you of a greater.

I always know when April makes its yearly debut without consulting the calendar because my wife usually says, ?Let?s clean out the garage today.? Trust me on this one, it is no April fool?s joke, but someone gets fooled. And believe me, I?m just not anybody?s fool. I?m my wife?s fool.

Somehow, her ?let?s? has a funny singular ring to it and we had, if I remember correctly, a double ring wedding ceremony. Hers is on her left ring finger while mine somehow ended up in my nose.

The things that are seen are temporal. Ours is a dying world, and here we have no continuing city. But a few years,-it may be less,-and all things here are changed. But a few years,-it may be less,-and the Lord shall have come, and the last trumpet shall have sounded, and the great sentence shall have been pronounced upon each of the sons of men.

There is a world that passeth not away. It is fair and glorious. It is called “the inheritance in light.” It is bright with the love of God, and with the joy of heaven. “The Lamb is the light thereof.” Its gates are of pearl; they are always open. And as we tell men of this wondrous city, we tell them to enter in.

A great many people tell you, “I will become a Christian when Christ comes and seeks me.”

I was talking to a gray-haired man in my native town not long ago who, when I spoke to him about his soul, suggested that he would become a Christian when the Lord Jesus Christ came to him. He was waiting till Christ hunted him personally. And there is a class like him in every community.

A defendant was on trial for murder. There was strong evidence indicating guilt, but there was no corpse. In the defense’s closing statement the lawyer, knowing that his client would probably be convicted, resorted to a trick.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I have a surprise for you all,” the lawyer said as he looked at his watch. “Within one minute, the person presumed dead in this case will walk into this courtroom.” He looked toward the courtroom door. The jurors, somewhat stunned, all looked on eagerly. A minute passed. Nothing happened.

Voice in the Desert is the blog of Stephen Davies. Originally from England, he has spent the last four years living and working in Burkina Faso (West Africa) as a Christian missionary among the Fulani, a semi-nomadic herding people.

Obviously over the last number of weeks we have on Sunday nights been addressing issues that are on our minds and hearts at this time in our nation when we had been subjected to terrorists’ attacks. I’m trying to keep up with all of the nuances, all of the twists and turns in the road as we go and try to shed some biblical light on the issues at hand.

One of the new features in our country in recent weeks is this obsession with “God Bless America.” In itself certainly a nice tune and a well-crafted song that was sung on many occasions for many years in our country, but now has become our sort of new national anthem, if not, our national prayer. And apparently from all that I can tell, as I see the emotion that is attached with the singing of the song, there is not just symbolism here. There is not just shallow sentimentality. I get the feeling that Americans really want God’s blessing, and by that they mean protection. Blessing means, “God, don’t let me die.” It means, “Don’t let my children die…don’t let my spouse die.” It means, “God, don’t let the stock market keep going the way it’s going.” “God, stop the decline in unemployment.” “God, maintain our freedoms, don’t put us in a position so we have to make all kinds of laws against terrorism that wind up impinging upon our cherished liberties.”

A young lady, named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, who we’ll call Brother Smith. She says Brother Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons. One particular day, Sally walked into seminary and knew they were in for another fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Brother Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry . . . and he would allow them to throw darts at the person’s picture.

?Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you: . . Let not your heart be troubled.? John 14:27

Whenever a thing becomes difficult in personal experience, we are in danger of blaming God, but it is we who are in the wrong, not God, there is some perversity somewhere that we will not let go. Immediately we do, everything becomes as clear as daylight. As long as we try to serve two ends, ourselves and God, there is perplexity. The attitude must be one of complete reliance on God. When once we get there, there is nothing easier than living the saintly life; difficulty comes in when we want to usurp the authority of the Holy Spirit for our own ends.

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master’s house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his master’s house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.