The story is told...
Illustration
The story is told of an earnest young man who wished, for his own edification, to know the true nature of sainthood. One night he prayed that the Lord send him a vision so that he might understand all of the saints more clearly.
As he dropped off to sleep, he anticipated that the vision, were it to come, would contain persons engaged in all sorts of activities. The young man himself was a greatly active fellow. In our age we might say he was an overachiever. "Surely the saints," he thought, "are the doers and shakers of the earth. Now perhaps I shall know them more closely."
Far into the night, the Lord answered the young man's prayer. The Lord answered, though, in a way the man did not expect at all. First in the vision came King David. Only this was not David slaying Goliath, or fashioning a nation, or carrying the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. This was David, near to his deathbed, breathing out his ascription of praise to the Living God.
Then the scene shifted. The young man saw a little girl. She did nothing more than dance through a field of daisies, her arms thrown up in a gesture of infinite praise.
Finally, out of the warmth and the darkness, a single thought pressed itself into the young man's mind, "Whatever else they may do, Saints rejoice in the boundless gifts of the Living God."
As he dropped off to sleep, he anticipated that the vision, were it to come, would contain persons engaged in all sorts of activities. The young man himself was a greatly active fellow. In our age we might say he was an overachiever. "Surely the saints," he thought, "are the doers and shakers of the earth. Now perhaps I shall know them more closely."
Far into the night, the Lord answered the young man's prayer. The Lord answered, though, in a way the man did not expect at all. First in the vision came King David. Only this was not David slaying Goliath, or fashioning a nation, or carrying the Ark of the Covenant to Jerusalem. This was David, near to his deathbed, breathing out his ascription of praise to the Living God.
Then the scene shifted. The young man saw a little girl. She did nothing more than dance through a field of daisies, her arms thrown up in a gesture of infinite praise.
Finally, out of the warmth and the darkness, a single thought pressed itself into the young man's mind, "Whatever else they may do, Saints rejoice in the boundless gifts of the Living God."
