I was in the eighth grade in school before Rural Electric Association came into our part of Louisiana and made Electricity available. Daddy grabbed the opportunity quickly. Prior to that time the only light we had was by kerosene lamps. There was one in each room of the house, with two on the dining table where we ate all our meals and where my brother and I did our home work for school.

      During the summer months the Book Mobile stopped at the house, as we were 9 miles from town for the nearest library. I loved dog and horse stories. But once I checked out a book that featured inspirational short stories. I remember one, pertaining to lamps that has stayed with me over the years. It goes something like this:

      The long wick of my lamp served me well, silently ministering, as I studied beside it. I felt ashamed that I had not before noticed it untiring ministry. One day I said to the wick:

      "For your service of many months I thank you."

      "But, what have I done for you?"

      "You have given me light upon my books as I study."

      "Indeed, not! I have no light to give . As proof thereof, take me from my bath of oil and see how quickly I expire. It is not I that burns, but the oil with which my texture is saturated. It is this that gives you light. I am simply the mediator between the oil the cistern and the fire on my edge.  I slowly char but the light continues to burn. "

      "But, don't you fear becoming exhausted? Will you be able to give light until every inch of your coil is slowly charred and cut away?"

      "I have no fear so long as the supply of oil does not fail, if only some kindly hand will remove from time to time the charred margin - - - bringing a fresh edge to the flame. This is my two-fold need: oil and trimming. Give me these and I shall burn to the end."

      Friends, you may think of yourself altogether helpless and in-adequate; but, a living fountain of oil is prepared to furnish you with inexhaustible supplies.  The wick represents us - the oil typifies the Holy Spirit that empowers us to perform His will. Not by your might and power, but by His Spirit.  Hour after hour the oil climbs up the wick to the flame! We can not exhaust God!

       Just a Thought Across The Garden Gate by Parson Don.



                                                                                                     Updated January 13, 2010
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