Excerpt From

I Seek My Scattered Ones

Blending in Better


The new convert had no idea it was such a formal church.The pastor greeted him at the door with a half-hearted smile. His eyes briefly darted up and down the figure standing before him. The man felt very ill at ease in his sweater vest and jeans. Nearly driven to suicide by personal problems, he had turned to Me as a last resort. After his conversion, he had been referred to that church by phone counsellors. But for most of the service he ducked his head and kept to himself. No one else cared to join him in his pew. He could almost feel the curious eyes of the other men boring holes into his conspicuous sweater. After all, the man’s attire would have gotten him ejected from any executive boardroom, and their religion was “success”. The man mused: If wearing a fancy suit does THIS to a man, I’d better stick with what I’ve got on.

Offering time was the last straw. The poor fellow would not get paid for two weeks, and only had two quarters to put into the plate. As it went from hand to hand, he heard the rustle of checks and twenty-dollar bills going into it and asked My forgiveness for what he was about to do. The sepulchral stillness of the sanctuary was broken by a loud CLINK! as his two coins fell together in the paper-filled plate. The man reproached himself thus: If only I’d given just one quarter! There’s no other coins in the plate, and it wouldn’t have made a clink! Those seated nearby awoke with a start, and an epidemic of throat-clearing and coughing broke out. More stares.

What must the man do to gain their acceptance, and blend in better with the wallpaper? If such a one were really serious about becoming like My Son, I would not have him to strive to acquire traits which I would only have to purge back out of his life through trials. My Son is all-wise; yet He possesses the simple heart of a child. He is the King of Glory; yet He is utterly approachable and accessible to all who come to Him in humility, admitting that they cannot please Me without the power of His Life operating in and through them.

The humble saint makes his boast in the Lord; the proud soul wants only to outshine the wallpaper.


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