Wednesday, January 15, 2020

The Matchless Pearl

I don't know the original source of this story... I found it on a few websites, and none seemed to own it, so I copied it to include here. It is one of my favorites...

The Matchless Pearl

A HEAVY SPLASH was followed by many ripples, and then the water below the pier was still. An American crouched on the low Indian pier, his eyes riveted on the place where a stream of little bubbles rose to the surface from deep under the water. In a moment a black head appeared and a pair of bright eyes looked up. Then the old Indian pearl diver was clambering onto the dock, grinning and shaking the water from his shining, oily body.

“As nice a dive as I’ve ever seen, Rambhau!” cried David Morse, the American missionary.

“Look at this one, sahib,” said Rambhau, taking a big oyster from between his teeth. “I think it’ll be good.”

“Rambhau! Look!” exclaimed Morse, “Why it’s a treasure!”

“Oh, yes, but there are better pearls, much better. Why, I have one—” his voice trailed off. “See this one—the imperfections—the black speck here, this tiny dent, even in shape it is a bit oblong, but good enough as pearls go.”

“Your eye is too sharp for your own good, friend,” lamented Morse. “I would never ask for a more perfect pearl!”

“It is just as you say of your God. To themselves people look perfect, but God sees them as they actually are.” The two men started down the dusty road to the town.

“You’re right, Rambhau. And God offers perfect righteousness to all who will simply believe and accept His free offer of salvation. He says, ‘The gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord’ (Rom 6:23). Can’t you see that, my friend?”

“No, sahib. As so many times before I have told you, it’s too easy. That is where your good religion breaks down. I cannot accept that. Perhaps I am too proud. I must work for my place in heaven, or I would always be uncomfortable.”

“Oh, Rambhau!” Behind the missionary’s words were years of prayer for this man. “You are getting older now. Perhaps this is your last season of diving for pearls. If you ever want to see heaven’s gates of pearl, you must accept the new life God offers you in His Son.”

“My last season! Yes, you are right. Today was my last day of diving. This is the last month of the year, and I have preparations to make.”

“You should be making preparations for the life to come.”

“That’s just what I’m going to do. The first day of the New Year I begin my pilgrimage. All my life I have planned it. I shall make sure of heaven this time. I am going to Delhi on my knees.”

“No! Never! It’s nine hundred miles to Delhi! The skin will break on your knees, and you’ll have blood poisoning or leprosy before you get to Bombay.”

“But, I must get to Delhi. And then the immortals will reward me. The suffering will be sweet, for it will purchase heaven for me.”

“Rambhau! My friend! You can’t! How can I let you do this when Jesus Christ has died to purchase heaven for you!”

But the old man could not be moved. On the afternoon of Christmas Day, Morse answered a knock at the door to find Rambhau there.

“My good friend!” cried Morse. “Come in, Rambhau.”

“No,” said the pearl diver, “I want you to come with me to my house, sahib, for a short time. I have something to show you. Please do not say no.”

The heart of the missionary leaped. Perhaps God was answering his prayer at last.

“Of course I’ll come,” he said.

“I leave for Delhi just one week from today, you know,” said Rambhau as they neared his house ten minutes later. The missionary’s heart sank.

Inside, Morse was ushered to a seat his friend had built especially for him. Rambhau left the room to return soon with a small but heavy English strongbox.

“I have had this box for years,” he said. “I keep only one thing in it. Now I will tell you about it. Sahib Morse, I once had a son.”

“A son! Why, Rambhau, you have never said a word about him!”

“No, sahib, I couldn’t.” Even as he spoke the diver’s eyes moistened. “Now I must tell you, for soon I will leave, and who knows whether I shall ever return? My son was a diver too. He was the best pearl diver on the coasts of India. He had the swiftest dive, the keenest eye, the strongest arm, the longest breath of any man who sought for pearls. What joy he brought to me! He always dreamed of finding a pearl beyond all that had ever been found. One day he found it. But when he saw it, he had already been underwater too long. He lost his life soon after.” The old pearl diver bowed his head for a moment.

“All these years I have kept the pearl,” he continued, “but now I am going, not to return. I know that this is a day among Christians for the giving of gifts, and to you, my best friend, I am giving my pearl.”

The old man worked the combination on the strongbox and drew from it a carefully wrapped package. Gently opening the cotton, he picked up a mammoth pearl and placed it in the hand of the missionary. It was one of the largest pearls ever found off the coast of India, and it glowed with a luster and brilliance never seen in cultured pearls. It would have brought a fabulous sum in any market.

For a moment the missionary was speechless and gazed with awe.

“Rambhau! What a pearl!”

“That pearl, sahib, is perfect,” replied the Indian quietly.

“Rambhau,” he said, “this is a wonderful pearl, an amazing pearl. Let me buy it. I would give you ten thousand dollars for it, or if it takes more I will work for it.”

“Sahib,” said Rambhau, stiffening his whole body, “this pearl is beyond all price. No man in all the world has money enough to say what this pearl is worth to me. I will not sell it to you. You may have it only as a gift.”

“No, Rambhau, I cannot accept that. As much as I want the pearl, I cannot accept it that way. Perhaps I am proud, but that is too easy. I must pay for it or work for it.”

The old pearl diver was stunned.

“You don’t understand, sahib. Don’t you see? My only son gave his life to get this pearl, and I wouldn’t sell it for any money. Its worth is in the lifeblood of my son. I cannot sell this, but I can give it to you. Just accept it in token of the love I bear you.”

The missionary was choked and for a moment could not speak. Then he gripped the hand of the old man.

“Rambhau,” he said in a low voice, “don’t you see? That is just what you have been saying to God.”

The diver looked long and searchingly at the missionary and slowly, slowly he began to understand.

“God is offering you everlasting life as a free gift. It is so great and priceless that no man on earth could buy it. No man on earth could earn it. His life would be millions of years too short. No man is good enough to deserve it. It cost God the lifeblood of His only Son to make the entrance for you into heaven. In a million years, in a hundred pilgrimages, you could not earn that entrance. All you can do is to accept it as a token of God’s love for you, a sinner. Rambhau, won’t you accept God’s great gift of eternal life, in deep humility, knowing it cost Him the death of His Son to offer it to you?”

“Sahib, I see it now. I have believed in the doctrine of Jesus for two years, but I could not believe that His salvation was free. Now I understand. Some things are too priceless to be bought or earned. Sahib, I will accept His salvation.”

Sunday, January 12, 2020

Whoever Takes the Son Gets It All

I like stories that present spiritual principles - here is one...
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Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate. The widowed, elder man looked on with satisfaction as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son’s trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.

As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again. Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.

Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Christmas holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season, a season that he and his son had so looked forward to, would visit his house no longer. On Christmas morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home.

As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand. He introduced himself to the man by saying, "I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you." As the two began to talk, the soldier told of how the man’s son had told everyone of his, not to mention his father’s, love of fine art. "I’m an artist," said the soldier, "and I want to give you this." As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the son.

Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man’s face in striking detail. Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture over the fireplace. A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task.

True to his word, the painting went well above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and spent Christmas gazing at the gift he had been given. During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy’s life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart.

As the stories of his son’s gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief. The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamored. He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received.

The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation!

Unmindful of the story of the man’s only son, but in his honor, those paintings would be sold at an auction. According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Christmas day, the day he had received his greatest gift. The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world’s most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many claim "I have the greatest collection." The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum’s list. It was the painting of the man’s son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent.

"Who will open the bidding with $100?" he asked. Minutes passed. No one spoke. From the back of the room came, "Who cares about that painting? It’s just a picture of his son. Let’s forget it and go on to the good stuff."

More voices echoed in agreement. "No, we have to sell this one first," replied the auctioneer. "Now, who will take the son?" Finally, a friend of the old man spoke, "Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That’s all I have. I knew the boy, so I’d like to have it."

"I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?" called the auctioneer. After more silence, the auctioneer said, "Going once, going twice. Gone." The gavel fell, cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, "Now we can get on with it and we can bid on these treasures!"

The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over. Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Someone spoke up and asked, "What do you mean it’s over? We didn’t come here for a picture of some old guy’s son. What about all of these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here! I demand that you explain what’s going on here!"

The auctioneer replied, "It’s very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son…gets it all."

Puts things into perspective doesn’t it? Just as those art collectors discovered on that Christmas Day, the message is still the same: the love of a Father, a Father whose greatest joy came from His Son, who went away and gave His life rescuing others. And because of that Father’s love, whoever takes the Son, gets it all.

– Unknown

Friday, January 10, 2020

He asked....

He asked....
She said, "Yes!"

Lawry's provided complementary champagne...
Beautiful ring!
I got reminders from Facebook that Dwayne and I arrived at Quartzsite, AZ for the Christian Fellowship Birds of a Feather gathering 5 years ago today: January 10, 2015.
So Carl and I first met, with our spouses, 5 years ago today.
We had no idea what God had in plan for us at that time...

Monday, January 6, 2020

Apologies for lack of posts!

I apologize for not posting for a few days - we've been busy here around campus and otherwise!
This is from December 26, 2019, when the electricians and other workers replaced the large circuit breaker for the campground... it had become very worn and was tripping quite regularly - cutting power to all the rigs in the campground. It has been nice since it was replaced that the power has remained working consistently!
 
Last week, when we went to Crisis Ministries in Irving on 12/31, the day was so bright and shiny and the Christmas decorations were beautiful!

And, on Friday last week (1/3/2020), we were "undecking the halls" - re-wrapping the Christmas tree and then loading it onto a golf cart to be carried to the warehouse for storage.

I posted back in November when we brought the tree in (http://trekincartwrights.blogspot.com/2019/11/bringing-in-christmas-tree.html) - Friday was the time to take the tree out...
Just a few pictures from the past few days!

Tuesday, December 31, 2019

Happy 2020!

Dear friends and family - I'm praying that you will have a blessed 2020 and that God will display His wonders to you during this year --- I'm praying that for myself too!

God bless your new year!

Patti

Monday, December 30, 2019

The Most Read Bible Verse in 2019

I recently saw this report with information from YouVersion about the most read Bible verse for 2019:
https://www1.cbn.com/cbnnews/2019/december/youversion-announces-most-read-bible-verse-of-2019-stunning-increase-in-number-of-people-reading-scriptures

I have written before that I really appreciate the use of the YouVersion app and its Bible reading plans. I haven't yet decided which plan I will use for 2020...
I have enjoyed using the "Solid Life Whole Bible Reading Plan" for the past few years. I like it because it goes near chronologically through the Old Testament and the New Testament is read twice - so you get Old and New Testament readings each day. Psalms are often read on the same day as corresponding events; historical books such as the Kings are read along with the books of the prophets that were contemporary with the kings.
This year, in my Discipleship Group at church, I also used the F260 Bible Plan - "a two hundred and sixty day reading plan that highlights the foundational passages of scripture that every disciple should know". With 260 readings, the plan has two days per week of no planned reading to allow for time to catch up if you get behind.

I highly recommend the YouVersion app - try it out!