Years ago I was driving my mother down the coast of California. We kept seeing signs indicating that the city of San Jose was ahead. Mom spoke up: “You know, I have a cousin in San Jose who I haven’t seen for years.” I asked if she had the address. Mom replied that she did, but it was a very old one.
We went to that address and discovered that the now-widowed cousin still lived there. After Mom and her cousin talked a while, Mom asked, “Your husband was never an Adventist, was he?”
The cousin replied, “Oh, yes! It took 20 years, but, you know, the only reading material I ever permitted in the bathroom was the Review and Signs!”
—Marjorie Punches von Pohle, Riverside, California
My first concrete memory is sitting on an aisle seat at the adult night meeting of Texas camp meeting. I was 6 years old, and because the gym was packed, my parents sat a few aisles behind me. When Elder Meade MacGuire ended his sermon by inviting all who wanted to give their lives to God to come forward, I got up without a second thought. My mother said that she looked up and my chair was empty. Where was I? Then she saw me.
It was a good decision. Even small children can make a serious commitment to Jesus.
—Penny Wheeler, Hagerstown, Maryland
“If we aspire to be fishers of men, let’s make sure our friends are attracted by the Lure, not the hook.”
—Albert M. Ellis, Apopka, Florida
“Take responsibility for your own spiritual growth . . . read your Bible every day.”
—Pastor Jan Paulsen, Hope Channel, 2007
QUIET: Here I am on Friday evening, sitting on the swing of my back porch, slowly rocking quietly back and forth. The outside is completely quiet. Wait, there is a dog barking in the distance; just a few barks, then quiet. The mountains to the west are quietly absorbing the last rays of the setting sun. In the bend of the road, I can hear a vehicle passing by. Then again, quiet. What is this making a light in the darkness? Two fireflies slowly pass by; then the nice darkness deepens again, and quiet. I suddenly see a sliver of the moon that was hidden by a small cloud. I continue rocking slowly back and forth, and all is quiet. Is that a cricket I hear? . . . What a pleasant way to start the Sabbath.
—Vernon Franklin, Berkeley Springs, West Virginia