Home Ministry by Mrs. W. W. Fletcher

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Takoma Park Station, Washington, D. C. · Mar 30, 1916

Home Ministry

By Mrs. W. W. Fletcher

MRS. W. W. FLETCHER

No more important work is ever given to mankind than that committed to fathers and mothers. Do we realize the truth of this statement? or do we admit it, and then place almost everything else really first?

One mother understood something of the sacredness of her work, and how ready children are to receive and apply religious instruction. When her six-year-old girl came with a picture, asking, “Why is Jesus standing there, mamma? What is he doing?” she took time, while the child was interested, to answer her questions. Very simply the story was told, how Jesus stands at the door of the heart, and knocks for admission. “Can’t Jesus open the door?” asked the child.

“There is no latch on the outside,” was the reply; “it must be opened by the owner of the house. It is just the same with our hearts—he will never come in if we do not want him to come. We must invite him in, and open the door to receive him.”

Then, to impress the lesson, the mother sang, “Knocking, knocking, who is there?” and when the lines came,— “ Yes, the wounded hand still knocketh, And beneath the thorn-wreathed hair Beam the patient eyes so tender Of thy Saviour waiting there; Wilt thou keep him waiting there?” the child’s eyes filled with tears, and she exclaimed, “Mother, I don’t want to keep him out. I want him to come in now. How can I undo the door?”

Drawing the child gently to her, the mother said, “Jesus wants to come in, and you want him. Let us tell him so.” Then together they knelt, and in a broken voice a childish prayer was uttered, asking Jesus to come in.

Was it worth while to take time right then to tell the story? Will that child ever forget the impression made on her heart in that hour?

“No other work can equal the mother’s in importance. She has not, like the

artist, to paint a form of beauty on canvas, nor like the sculptor to chisel it from marble. She has not, like the author, to embody a noble thought in words of his power, nor like the musician to express a beautiful sentiment in melody. It is granted to her, with the help of God, to develop in a human soul the likeness of the divine.”