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Fallen Soldier

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“I don’t want to live that life anymore.” His tone was firm, his piercingly blue eyes resolute. As our dusty vehicle wound through the snow laden countryside, I marveled at his dramatic testimony and complete heart change.

With surprise and delight I had heard of our family friend’s conversion to the truth, but it was wonderful to see it for myself. The parties, secular lifestyle, violent video games, worldly films, and rock music had been eagerly laid aside and exchanged for earnest Bible study, humble prayer, and a passion for serving God. I could sense his enthusiasm and joy, and it was evident that he longed for the purity of heaven to rest in his heart.

He traced through the past months, the long years. “That life has no appeal now,” he expressed to me firmly. “I was living an existence only for myself and found no fulfillment or peace. You can be glad that you were never caught up in the ungodly teenage dating scene - for I was. It was so cheap and a such a waste of time.” His…
The afternoon sun gleamed upon my beloved Vermont hills, bathing them with a warm glow. Buried deep in the pages of the Desire of Ages, I paused to ponder a meaningful chapter. Closing my eyes, I could imagine the scene….



Gleaming coins fall with a demanding clatter, lining treasure chests with abundant wealth. Many individuals clearly delight to pour generous offerings into the treasury as onlookers stare with mixed amazement and admiration.

Hesitating timidly, a poor widow approaches the place of offering. She shrinks back. Comparing her gift with what the rich offer only makes her sorrowful that this is all she has to give. What difference will two mites make, buried by and lost amid the other contributions?

Aware that she may be going hungry tonight, she hurriedly throws her gift in and turns to leave. But the tender gaze of Jesus stops her. Soft tears pool in her eyes as His words touch her heart with an unspeakable warmness.

“Of a truth I say unto you, that this poor widow ha…

Unseen

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"Johnny, do you want to take a ride down the driveway in my wagon?"

The little face lit up in a grin. I tucked a basket through my arm and began to skip down the graveled driveway, steadying the wagon with its precious cargo behind me.

Nothing was extraordinary about the day. The gray sky was rimmed with looming clouds, heavy with rain and threatening to shower. The woods surrounding us were silent without so much as a chirp of a bird or the rustling of a leaf, and the air was motionless and still with the damp smell of late summer.


As I pressed forward to the meadow, an uneasy and restless feeling slowly grew inside of me until I became nervous. Endeavoring to reason away this strange and un-called for impression, I continued to pluck berries from leafy bushes lining along the driveway and placing them in my basket.

But just because I feel a bit edgy doesn’t mean anything, I told myself. Wandering through small thickets of brambles and clumps of persistent weeds, I stoope…