(see also GOD, will of)
Evangelist Paul Rader had many a talk with a banker in New York. The banker would reply
that he was too busy for religion. Time passed and the banker, seriously overworked, was
sent to a sanatorium for complete rest. One day God spoke to Paul Rader; the message was
clear: "Go and speak to ..." Rader obeyed, catching a train and going with all
speed to the sumptuous sanatorium.
Arriving at the facility, Rader saw the banker standing in the doorway. "Oh,
Rader," said the banker, "I am so glad to see you." "I received your
telegram," said Rader. "That's impossible," said the banker. "I wrote
a telegram begging you to come, but I tore it up. I didn't sent it." "That may
be," said Rader, "but your message came by way of Heaven."
Paul Rader found his friend under deep conviction of sin and he pointed him to Christ
as a perfect Saviour. That man accepted Christ and his heart was filled with joy.
"Rader," he said, "did you ever see the sky so blue or the grass so
green?" Rader replied, "Sometimes we sing" 'Heaven above is softer blue,
Earth around is sweeter green; Something lives in every hue Christ-less eyes have never
seen.'" Suddenly the banker leaned against Paul Rader and fell into his arms, dead.
Morning Glory, July 13, 1993.
Elizabeth Elliot tells of two adventurers who stopped by to see her, all loaded with
equipment for the rain forest east of the Andes. They sought no advice, just a few phrases
to converse with the Indians. She writes: "Sometimes we come to God as the two
adventurers came to me -- confident and, we think, well-informed and well equipped. But
has it occurred to us that with all our accumulation of stuff, something is missing?
She suggests that we often ask God for too little. We know what we need--a yes or no
answer, please, to a simple question. Or perhaps a road sign. Something quick and easy to
point the way. What we really ought to have is the Guide himself. Maps, road signs, a few
useful phrases are things, but infinitely better is someone who has been there before and
knows the way.
Elizabeth Elliot tells, A Slow and Certain Light.