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Volume 3, Issue 2 Winter 2013Winter 2013The Young Ladies Journal ~

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EditorialFamily Fun . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4

CompetitionArtwork and Photographs . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .5

Youth SectionThe Old Brown House . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .6Charles Spurgeon: Short Stories . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13The Big Bible, by Walter L Wilson. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .20

Inspiration in VerseCome Walk With Me, by author/artist Marjorie E Curtis. . . . . . .12

In The KitchenPastitsio . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .14Hazelnut & Chocolate Torte, Chicken Gratin . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 15

An Interview WithSuzannah Hitchcock. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 16

Book ReviewsMary Slessor: Servant to the Slave . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24Amy Carmichael: Rescuer by Night . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .24Daughters of the Faith Series . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

Missionary BiographyMary Slessor, by Chloe Clarke. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .26

MiscellaneousAm I Saved?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .30Thought Provoker . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31

The Young Ladies Journal © 2013No part of this publication may be copied either electronically, digitally, orally, or in

any form without first obtaining written permission from the publisher. Graphic design, page design, photography and art are also copyright.

The Young Ladies Journal ~

The Young Ladies JournalAn Australian Magazine to Encourage Christian Girls

Statement of PurposeGreetings from Gunbar, Australia! This is the third year of publication for our magazine, and it is our privilege to bring this latest edition to you. The Young Ladies Journal was first produced in March 2011, when we began to realise the need for encouragement among Australian Christian girls. Written with the desire to inspire, stir and motivate you to use your present years for the service of the Most High, we also pray that our publication will encourage and bless you, our sisters in Christ, in your walk with our Lord. No matter where you are, may you be reminded of your shared goal and vision to become more like Jesus, and to stand strong in His word. Our passion is that through The Young Ladies Journal you would also be challenged to step forward and know the grounds upon which you stand. Your pastor, friends and parents are not responsible for your Christian walk. YOU are. So take responsibility, and raise the banner for Christ!

Writers and ContributorsWe love to hear from our readers! If you would like to submit a recipe, short story, encouraging poem or a Bible verse to us to review for publication, please do! Some of our regular columns include: From My Heart to Yours (articles) Practical Pieces (hints on homemaking) Inspiration in Verse (uplifting prose) Youth Section (short stories) In My Kitchen (recipes and kitchen tips) Book Reviews Short Biographies ARTWORK AND PHOTOGRAPHS ARE WELCOME!

About the EditressHi, I'm Chloe! This is my third year of publishing The Young Ladies Journal and it is – and has been – my prayer that you will be encouraged and inspired by this magazine for the things of the Lord. I am the eldest of five children and live with my family on a property in NSW. I enjoy reading, writing, playing the piano and cooking in the kitchen.

SubscriptionsThe Young Ladies Journal is published quarterly and is issued in Summer, Autumn, Winter and Spring. A year's subscription (4x issues) in Australia is $6.00AU. Please send all subscriptions to The Young Ladies Journal along with your name and mailing address. Single copies and back-issues may be obtained upon request at $1.00ea + postage. If you reside outside Australia, please contact Chloe concerning subscription fees. PayPal: We now accept PayPal as an optional payment method! Just go to our website and click on our subscribe link.

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The Young Ladies Journal“Rosedale,” Gunbar

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Editorial ... family fun

Dear Friends,

Greetings from Gunbar! I hope that you're warm and cosy as you sit down to flip the pages of this Winter edition. I was really blessed to have Hannah Dowsett join the team for this production when it came to the photography. Hannah hails from Victoria, and is a musician, artist/assistant art-teacher, and budding photographer. Thanks for the front-cover piece, Hannah!

For me, one of the highlights of this Winter is my little sister's third birthday! I still remember when I held Amy as a day-old baby – all pink and shut-

eyed, with a little fine tuft of soft, brown hair. Very hard to believe that she's so grown up already. In preparation for “the big day,” Mum and I went to the library and borrowed some cake-decorating books, which I have been pouring over this whole morning... pink cakes, blue cakes, tigers, teddy bears and butterflies. Ellie even suggested we started making the cake today!

Past Summer, Brayden managed to get his hands on a 1990 Landcruiser Ute. That's kept him pretty happy! When Bray and I were getting some fencing gear to the shed, he was able to test the powers


Amy Grace

of his tip-tray while I took a few photos. I still can't believe he beat me to a vehicle – who would have thought my little brother could have upped me in that department! Still, I'm making the most of it and it's pretty fun to go riding with him – though sometimes it's a little on the “wild” side...

In this issue, you'll find an assortment of different literature. Read the hilarious take on “cheap-quality fish” whilst getting to know Suzannah Hitchcock in our quarterly interview. You might even find inspiration for cooking up a Hazlenut and Chocolate Torte with homeschool chef Lauren Giddy. Share the joys of geraniums with blooming botanist Ellie Rose and be inspired by our fireside book reviews. I hope that as you flip through these pages, you will find inspiration, encouragement and blessing. I invite you to join the young girls around Australia in reading this issue, and being comforted that you are not alone in your pursuit to serve God in holiness.

Chloe Clarke

CompetitionArtwork and PhotographsArtwork and Photographs

Do you have a passion for drawing or photography... or both? Here is a great opportunity to display your talent on the front cover of our magazine! We're holding this competition to attract young artists and photographers to contribute visually to this Journal; the winner will have their artwork or photograph published on the front-cover of The Young Ladies Journal.Contestants may send in multiple entries. Please send your entry to us via email in JPEG format by August 24th. If you do not have access to the internet or are unable to scan your work, please mail it direct to us and we will return your work to you if you provide a self-addressed, stamped envelope.Contestants please note: All entries that are submitted may be published in later issues along with a copyright and credit to the artist/photographer given.Don't know where to start? Here are some ideas for subject matter... ~ Australian flora or fauna. ~ Sisters, cousins, or friends. ~ Appropriate for Spring or Summer. ~ All pictures must be in portrait form.~ Have fun and don't be scared to use your imagination!


It was very old, low-roofed, and weather-beaten, standing quite a little stretch from the road, and you might have supposed it deserted but for the thin column of smoke that wound slowly above the roof, so desolate did it look.

But it was inhabited, and could you have pushed aside the creaking door, you might have seen an old woman, wrinkled and grey, sitting by the silent hearth, stirring the dull fire, or looking absently from the window.

It was Aunt Ruth Jones, as the neighbours called her, of whom little was known, except that she was a queer old woman – a sort of hermit, living all alone in the neglected old house. It had come into her possession, with a small farm adjoining, by the death of her parents some thirty years before.

At first the neighbours were curious to see the new occupant; they found a tall, spare woman, then about thirty-four years of age, little given to gossip, shy, and cold. Some affirmed that she was proud, and others said that her life had been one of disappointment. But none had succeeded in drawing out her story, and gradually the old brown house and its occupant were left to themselves.

Years had wrought changes; the walls were now darkened with smoke, the windows dingy, the floor sunken in; there was nothing cheery in the ill-kept room, or in the face of Aunt Ruth. Some natures become shrivelled and cramped when left to themselves, and hers was such an one; I am afraid it was also narrowed and hardened by being shut off from humanity, with none to share her joys or grief, or to care indeed, if she had any.

As the days came and went, they brought nothing to her but a little round of chores, a bit of patchwork, or straw braiding, and occasionally a walk to the village store to buy the few articles she required.

The gay dresses and pert stare of the village girls, the glimpses of happy homes caught through the windows, and the noisy stir of life, only made more striking the contrast of her own lonely lot. Gladly would she hasten


back to her own silent fireside, where the cats, at least, were glad of her presence. Old Brindle knew her step, and tossed her head impatiently for nubbins of corn, or the pail of slop with which she was wont to be treated. The hens cackled merrily, and scarcely stirred from their tracks, as her dress brushed their shining feathers.

The care of these creatures was a kind of company, and on frosty mornings, Aunt Ruth might be seen watching them eating so greedily, while her own breakfast was yet untasted, and her feet and fingers benumbed with cold.

Though none shared her heart or home, yet there was sometimes one bright presence within those dim walls, a childish, questioning voice, and sweet laughter.

It was Bessie Lane. One June day, on her way to school, a sudden dash of rain had driven the child there for shelter. And ever since, the happy little girl, with flaxen hair and clear eyes, would go to the forsaken old house to chat with Aunt Ruth. As that springing step was heard, and the latch lifted, there would come a gleam of brightness to the faded eyes, and a smile to the thin mouth.

The child found ready entrance to the lonely heart; children will, you know, they are so “queer,” as wise old heads sometimes affirm.

“What in the world makes you visit that old hermit?” said Eliza Ray, her schoolmate, one morning. “Bridget, our hired girl, says she is sure such a looking old hag must be a witch.”

“Witch or not, I like her;” and Bessie Lane tossed up her hat, and pranced off after a fox squirrel just down the road.

So Bessie kept up her visits, and the two would sit and talk together by the hour, Aunt Ruth showing her long-treasured trinkets, relics of years gone by, and detailing their history, till Bessie's eyes would dilate with wonder.

On this wintry morning, in which we have introduced her to you, sitting by the dull fire, and looking from the dingy window, the time of Bessie's absence had been longer than usual. The sky was leaden, and the wind whistled down the chimney and shook the casements.


Suddenly Aunt Ruth starts and peers through the window. There is a bright little hood and blue cloak approaching; she sees that, but not the carefully wrapped parcel Bessie is carrying, for she hurries to brighten the fire and brush the hearth.

“Good morning, Aunt Ruth. It has been ever so long since I have been here, hasn't it?”

“Yes, a long time for a lonesome old body like me; but this is no place for the young and happy, I know.”

“Oh, yes it is, dear Aunt Ruthie. You must not say so. I like to come real well. But Uncle Jake has been so sick; he sent for Pa and Ma, and I went with them. It is such a long way off, I thought we never would get there. And Oh, Aunt Ruth, I have not told you yet” – and the chubby face sobered.

“What is it, child?” picking up bits of litterings from the floor. Somehow she always did so when Bessie was around, the hands involuntarily moved in little touches of order and neatness. The room was good enough for her: for the child it seemed dismal and must be brightened a little. But Aunt Ruth was unconscious that she was being called to a better life, or that a love for light and beauty was awakening in

her heart.“Well, I will tell you; we are going to move away. I declare, I think it's

too bad to leave all the girls just as I began to like them, and you, too, Aunt Ruth. I don't want to go one bit;” tears rolling down her face.

“Going away, my little girl going off?” said Aunt Ruth seriously.“Yes; and mamma said we couldn't move Chip, it would be such a bother,

so I have given poor birdie away to Allie Smith;” tears flowing afresh. “I let Amy Wells have my kitten, but I haven't found a place for my poor little rose. See,” said Bessie, going to the table and removing the wrapper from her parcel, “isn't it a beauty? You will keep it to remember me by, and take care of it always, won't you, Aunt Ruth?”

The little blossoms were out in full, and seemed to smile a benediction


upon the old woman.“Yes, yes, child, I will keep your rose; no harm shall come to it.” The

little plant seemed to carry her thoughts away, for she began talking absently to herself, then recalling her musings she said: –

“So you are going away; and you'll forget all about poor Aunt Ruth with so many new friends. Well, well, it's natural.”

“No, no, indeed I shall not,” said Bessie, giving her a hearty hug, “and sometime I will come to see you.”

They talked a long time, but at last, with a good-by kiss to Aunt Ruth, and to the pet rose, she was gone like a flitting sunbeam.

Then the shadows seemed to come back to the inmate of the old house; but as her glance fell upon the little flower, she began clearing a place for it to stand in the warmest corner, musing to herself the while: –

“Just such roses I used to carry in my hand to the old stone church in Amsden when no bigger than Bessie. It seems like yesterday, but ah! it is a

long time. Maybe if I could do like that again, it would not be so dark and lonesome like. I think I'll put the rose here by the south window, then if the child ever does come, she will see it from the gate.”

Bringing a little pine stand, she carefully placed the plant upon it. In doing so, she chanced to glance at the window. “Bless me! it never looked quite so dirty before;” and Aunt Ruth moved with new life, as she cleansed, rinsed, and polished the glass. But this being done, the old muslin curtain seemed dingier than common, shading the clear glass; so it was taken down, and another finer one unpacked from a drawer and put in its place.

The next morning, as she ate her lonely breakfast, she placed her chair to face the window and the rose. The sun was shining, and as the rays streamed across the room to the opposite wall, she marked the cobwebs. That day the cobwebs were swept down, the other window washed, and the floor cleaned.


The old house had not been so neat and cheery for many years.Near the close of the week she went to the village, this time putting on a

dark delaine, instead of the snuff calico with a yellow flower. Somehow the gay dresses and curious glances did not disturb her as much as usual. A pleasant recognition was passed with a neighbour whom she had not spoken to for a year.

A strange feeling had come over her, – a feeling that she was one of the great human family after all, and the icy mountain of reserve began to thaw just a little. Her purchases made, she concluded to take another road home. This route lay past a church. It was lighted, though early, and a few real worshippers had met to pray before the regular service.

They were singing now, and Aunt Ruth paused, as a clear, triumphant voice bore up the strain, –“Plunged in a gulf of dark despair.”

Spell-bound, she listened to its close, never stirring from her tracks till a group of people passed near, then slowly walking on, you might have heard her talking again to herself: –

“O Ruth Jones, where are you? I used to sing that, too, in the same old church where I carried the roses, only it was years after. I used to pray, too. I wonder if God would hear me now.”

That night, and many nights after, she could not sleep; the words of song kept ringing in her ears, bringing up the old scenes and associations, till the great deep of her


soul was broken up.In her darkness she felt gropingly, feebly, for the old paths, and the good

Spirit was all the time leading her back to the light. I cannot retrace for you all the way that she came. I only know that gradually, surely, the night wore away, and the Sun of peace shone upon her soul. She went to the church, where the song had that night staid her footsteps, and listened to the words of life.

Her life became a blessing; for her nature was broadened, deepened and purified. The sick and the needy learned to be glad at her coming, and little children ran to meet her.

And did Bessie Lane ever come again?

Yes, when June smiled upon the earth, the childish figure once more paused at the gate, but the blue eyes gazed bewildered around. “This isn't the place. Aunt Ruth must have moved away.” Well might she think so; the house was neatly painted, the yard fence was repaired, and up and down the path all sorts of flowers were blooming. Just then Bessie descried a neatly dressed old lady tying up some vines.

“Can you tell me where Aunt Ruth Jones has gone that used to” – Bessie stopped, and with one bound sprang into the woman's arms, for it was Aunt Ruth herself.

“It is so beautiful here! How did it all happen?” cried the delighted child.

Aunt Ruth smiled brightly, and, taking Bessie by the hand, passed into the neat, cheerful room, and up to the south window, where the carefully tended rose was putting forth beauty and fragrance.

Bessie fairly danced with delight at sight of the rose, but Aunt Ruth seated the child gently by her side, and told how it had happened; how the little flower had at first whispered to her heart of the long ago; of the holy song that would not let her sleep; and, lastly, of God's good Spirit that had so tenderly led her straying steps to the sun-guilt path of peace.

“The Old Brown House” and accompanying pictures taken fromthe 1910 reproduction of stories complied by J. E. White.


Inspiration in VerseCome, walk with Me thro' the meadows...

Come walk with Me thro' the meadows,It's not a long way to go...

To a place which is very special,It's a place where wildflowers grow!

Come walk with Me thro' the meadows,And smell the flowers on the way...

Come linger in My presence,O! Sit at My feet, child, to-day!

Yes! He bade me walk thro' the meadowsFor a treasure He had in store

And I found so many wilflowers,Grown by the One I adore!

I walked with Him through the meadows,Past the place where the wildflowers grow.

Down a green hill to a gully,And the gully was all aglow!

He'd sprinkled my pathway with flowers...Flanned flowers starry and bright,

But even more sweet than the flowers,Is the One Who is my Delight!

For He created the wildflowers,This blessed Jesus of mine,

He sprinkled the hills with the wildflowers,And caused the bellbirds to chime.

Why not walk with Him thro' the medows,Away from the hurrying scene...O! Stand amid the wildflowers

And touch, where His hand has been!

Marjorie E Curtis © Copyright 2013Not to be copied without written permission.

Be still, and know that I am God...Psalm 46:10


Charles SpurgeonHymns or Rats?During one of many holidays at Salmbourne, I had a varied experience which I am not likely to forget. My dear grandfather was very fond of Dr. Watt's hymns, and my grandmother, wishing to get me to learn them, promised me a penny for each that I should say to her perfectly. I found it an easy and pleasant method of earning money, and learned them so fast that grandmother said she must reduce the price to a halfpenny each, and afterwards to a farthing, if she did not mean to be quite ruined by her extravagance. There is no telling how low the amount per hymn might have sunk, but grandfather said that he was getting over-run with rats, and offered me a shilling a dozen for all I could kill.I found, at the time, that the occupation of rat-catching paid me better than learning hymns, but I know which employment has been more permanently profitable to me. No matter on what topic I am preaching, I can, even now, in the middle of my sermon, quote some verse of a hymn in harmony with the subject; the hymns have remained with me, while those old rats for years have passed away, and the shillings I earned by killing them have been spent long ago. - Charles SpurgeonProverbs 22:6 Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Don't Understand...Once a theology student came to Spurgeon much disturbed. He could not understand the meanings of certain verses in the Bible. Spurgeon's wise advice to him was, "Young man, allow me to give you this word of advice. Give the Lord credit for knowing things you don't understand."

Worst Sermon!Spurgeon once preached a sermon that he felt was his absolute worst. He floundered and stammered through it, and felt that it ended a complete failure. In his great humiliation he prayed to God that night, "Lord, God, Thou canst do something with nothing. Bless that poor sermon."He prayed this prayer repeatedly throughout the week day and night. But, he also determined in himself that the next Sunday he would preach a great sermon.He did exactly that. His next Sunday's sermon went splendidly and the people praised him highly for it. He was pleased with himself and slept beautifully that night without a care. But, the thought came to him, "I'll watch the results of those two sermons."He was eventually able to trace forty-one souls saved through the effects of the poor, humiliating sermon while not one was saved through the highly praised one!1 Corinthians 2:4 And my speech and my preaching was not with enticing words of man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power: 5 That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.

"Tale-baring emits a threefold poison; for it injures the teller, the hearer and the person concerning whom the tale is told."~ Spurgeon

"We measure distance by time. We are apt to say that a certain place is so many hours from us. If it is a hundred miles off, and there is no railroad, we think it a long way; if there is a railway, we think we can be there in no time. But how near must we say heaven is? – for it is just one sigh, and we get there." ~ Spurgeon


In the

with Lauren Giddy

PastitsioThis takes a while to make, but the result is well worth the time and effort!

Ingredients:250g macaroni pasta2 eggs, beaten lightly¾ cup grated parmesan cheese2 tablespoons stale breadcrumbs

For cheese topping:90g butter½ cup plain flour3 ½ cups milk1 cup grated parmesan cheese2 egg yolks

For meat sauce:2 tablespoons olive oil2 med brown onions, chopped finely750g beef mince400g can crushed tomatoes1/3 cup tomato paste½ cup beef stock¼ cup dry white wine½ teaspoon ground cinnamon1 egg, beaten lightly

...Method continued in opposite column

Method: Preheat oven to 180º (160ºC fan-forced). Grease a shallow 2.5 litre (10-cup) oven-proof dish.

To make sauce: Heat oil in a large frying pan and add onion and beef. Cook, stirring, until beef is browned. Stir in un-drained tomatoes, paste, stock, wine and cinnamon. Simmer, uncovered, about 20 minutes or until mixture is thick. Cool; stir in egg.

To make the cheese topping: Melt butter in a medium saucepan and add flour. Cook, stirring, until mixture bubbles and thickens. Remove from heat; gradually stir in milk. Stir over heat until sauce boils and thickens; stir in cheese. Cool five minutes; stir in egg yolks.

Boil pasta until tender; drain. Combine hot pasta, egg and cheese in large bowl. Press pasta over base of dish.

Top pasta evenly with meat sauce; pour over cheese topping. Smooth surface; sprinkle with breadcrumbs. Bake 1 hour or until browned lightly. Stand 10 minutes before serving.


Hazelnut and Chocolate Torte

Ingredients:250g roasted hazelnuts, roughly

chopped250g packet dark chocolate bits1 tablespoon cocoa powder, sifted8 egg whites, at room temperature¾ cup caster sugar¼ cup plain flour, sifted250g punnet strawberries, hulled &

slicedjuice of 1 orange300ml double thick cream

Method:Preheat oven to 180°C. Grease and line a spring form pan 26cm in diameter.Combine hazelnuts, chocolate bits and cocoa by gently stirring. Beat egg whites with electric mixer until soft peaks form. Add sugar, one tablespoon at a time, beating well after each addition. Continue to beat mixture until thick and glossy.Using a large metal spoon, gently fold hazelnut mixture and flour into egg whites until combined. Spoon mixture into prepared pan, smoothing the top. Bake for 35 to 40 minutes, or until skewer inserted into centre comes out clean. Stand in pan for 15 minutes before turning onto a wire rack to cool.Meanwhile, combine strawberries and orange juice in a bowl.Cover and refrigerate until ready to serve.Spread cream over cooled torte. Top with strawberries and serve.

Chicken Gratin

Ingredients:50g butter1 onion, chopped2 cloves garlic, crushed½ red capsicum, chopped1 stick celery, chopped¼ cup plain flour2 ½ cups milkAprox 500g chicken, cut into small

pieces and cooked3 cups cooked rice1 cup grated cheddar½ cup shredded parmesan

Method: Preheat oven to 180ºC. Grease a 10-cup capacity oven-proof dish.Heat the butter in a large pan. Cook the onion and garlic for 2-3 minutes, or until soft but not browned. Add the capsicum and celery and cook for another 2-3 minutes.Stir in the flour and cook for 1 minute. Gradually add the milk, stirring continuously until the mixture is smooth and thick. Simmer for a further 2-3 minutes to allow the flour to cook. Stir in the chicken.Place the rice in a layer over the base of the prepared dish. Pour over the chicken mixture and smooth the surface with a spatula. Sprinkle with the cheddar cheese and parmesan.Bake for 25 minutes, or until bubbling and browned. Serve at once.

All recipes contributed byLauren Giddy


An Interview With

Suzannah C. Hitchcock

Hi Suzannah, can you tell us about yourself?

My name is Suzannah Claire Hitchcock and I turned fifteen in February. I am almost 5'9" and I have brown hair and blue-green eyes. I am the eldest of five children, and I live in Western Australia in a suburb called Lynwood, which is south of Perth. I only have one hobby really at the moment! That is to play the piano all the time!!!

When were you saved and what happened on

that day?I honestly have no idea what day I was saved, but I think it was some time recently. I am a very young Christian, and still have a hard time trying to concentrate on the Lord. However, I do know that when I read the Bible and spend time with the Lord I am blessed and encouraged. I know that I need to love the Lord and He has blessed me very much with a lovely

family and many privileges. I did go through a time of doubting His existence, but am over that now, and am more assured of His being there for me all the time.

Can you tell us about your family?Dad, STEVEN, works for Toll as a courier. He has had a number of jobs over the years. He worked in a bank (when I was born), then was the first person in Australia to raise butterflies to sell, became a theological student, was a taxi driver, carer, and now a courier. Dad was born in California and joined the U.S. Army when he was 18, but got an Honourable Discharge after he broke his back in a motorcycle accident. When Mum and he got married in '96 they went and lived in the States for two years, but returned to Australia one

month before I was born. Dad loves the Lord very much. He has a good sense of humour and is very loving and thoughtful, and supports


Suzannah's Dad

Mum while she homeschools us.Mum, ALISON, is the homemaker, teacher, cook, and ideas-person. She is currently teaching the 3rd and 4th members of our family, as my sister and I have been studying alone for the past three years or more. Mum was born in Bermuda, and came out here when she was very young. She is a great cook and makes delicious roasts!! Mum and I are very alike in personality, and I love having conversations with her. I honestly don't know what I'd do without her!...Me!Next in line is NETANYA ROSE, who is my best friend and study companion. She loves to write. She has filled 9 diaries!!! She has brown hair and blue eyes, a lovely smile, and is catching up to me in height - oh no! She can also draw very well, can fly a remote control helicopter, and she just loves maths (just kidding). She is also a great reader, and is learning the piano. She will be 14 on the 31st of May. BRONWYN MONET comes 3rd in the line of girls. She is pretty and cheeky and 11 years old. For quite a few years, a portion of the dirt in the back yard was filled with a miniature village of her design and construction that kept her entertained for hours. She makes doll furniture, plays with her toy cars, and loves to laugh. Rocks are one of her hobbies. I just learned today, after a demonstration, that she can ride two scooters at once!

The last of the girls is BRIANNA CHARLOTTE, and she is a strawberry blonde! She will be 8 in July. She plays with Bronwyn

24/7, draws, makes cards, plays with her growing collection of toy cars, and loves to read and write.SCHAEFER STEVEN was a great surprise, because we were not expecting a boy! He is almost three,

and is cheeky, charming, and totally adorable! He spends his days playing, sleeping, talking, and waiting for Dad to get home so he can 'drive' the car with him!


Clockwise from left: Mrs Hitchcock, Schaefer, Brianna & Sophie (dog),

and Bronwyn

Please tell us about what you like to do and how you spend your days.

Of course, I can't get away with not doing school, so that's definitely one way I fill up my time. Actually, I quite like school, and I like science, maths (sort of), and government. I like to research, and I love to debate! I've never done it publicly, but I greatly enjoy it with friends! Music takes up a great deal of my free time. I listen to it, and play it all the time. My poor family!?? I guess I need to do music theory, for I've never had lessons, but I'm not very interested. I love to spend time with friends, which is something I don't do very often.

Please tell us about your home-schooling experience.

I and my siblings have always been homeschooled. We started out with Rod and Staff maths and grammar, then switched to Saxon Maths. Netanya and I, who have been studying independently since 2009, are doing an 'Any Novel, Novel Study Guide', which is in place of Grammar. We are dong the Exploring Creation series by Dr. J.L.Wile for science. It's great! We did do ACE for a very short time period, but weren't that fussed about it. Studying independently doesn't mean that Mum isn't there to support and inspire, but it has taken off some of the work load so that now she can concentrate on the two younger ones. I have had a very positive experience doing homeschool, and I definitely want to homeschool my children! I love to read Mum's books on homeschooling and glean information

and ideas from them, and of course, form opinions!

What are some outdoor activities you especially enjoy?

Probably my favourite outdoor activity would be playing catch with a baseball and a mitt. And I like to walk.

Are there any books you'd like to recommend?

I greatly enjoyed and benefited from A YOUNG WOMAN AFTER GOD'S OWN HEART by Elizabeth George. Other books I liked were The Bronze Bow and The Sign of the Beaver by Elizabeth George Speare, A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, The Yearling by Marjorie.K.Rawlings, Journey Through the Night by Anne de Vries, Nothing Else Matters by Patricia St. John, For the Love of

Ann by James Copeland, and Golden Fiddles by Mary Grant Bruce.

Do you have any pets?Thankfully, not any more! We have had cheap quality fish (they died almost immediately), a guinea pig who was an aspiring Houdini, and lastly, a chocolate fuzzball that was a poodle, but looked like a sheep most of the time. Sophie was a mental basket case, very affectionate and loving, but impossible to train, and we eventually gave her away. She is now very happy with an elderly couple and their other dog.

What subjects or areas interest you?Medicine and diseases. I think it's a fascinating field. I like learning about how films are made, and finding out all the 'behind the scenes' stuff. Different eras in the making of films are also interesting, like identifying a film era by the colour of the film or the film score.

Do you play any instruments


and what is your favourite music?Yes, I play the piano. My favourite music is film scores! John Williams is my favourite composer. His music for Star Wars is simply grand! He also does Schindler's List which is very lovely, and hundreds of other films. I enjoy the pieces from Jane Austen movies, and all the Pixar creations. I think music is a vital part of a film. Sometimes, a film can destroy a piece because of it's bad content, which is a shame, for then you can't really appreciate what the music is supposed to relate to. So it is with many pieces that I like. Dario Marionelli wrote beautiful tunes as well.

What has been the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?

Most of my embarrassing moments occur when I lose my balance in awkward situations.

Do you have any long-term pursuits, dreams, or

aspirations?Probably my longest dream and aspiration is to be a godly wife and mother at home, where I will teach my children. I'm so looking forward to that time, if God-willing, it comes! On a slightly different note, I want to learn a few other instruments including the trumpet and the guitar (!), be a screen-play writer and maybe be involved in making good wholesome films, and meet the Queen!

Do you have a Bible versethat is special to you?

I found John 16:33 last year, and I think it really helped at the time because I was stressing about something in my school work. “These things I have spoken to you, so that in Me you may have peace. In the world you have tribulations, but take courage; I have overcome the world."

Is there anything else you'd like to say?I'd just like to say thank you Chloe for asking me to do this interview. It has been a great privilege, so thanks so much!

I would love to hear from you at:Suzannah Hitchcock

13 Bywood WayLynwood WA 6147

Note to reader: Not all of the ideas expressed in our interviews by the intervieweeare necessarily in accordance with our beliefs.


Netanya Hitchcock andSuzannah, right

TheBig Bible

by Walter L Wilson M D. .

meeting was in progress in a small country church which was heated by a large stove at the back of the room near the door. The stove was usually kept fairly hot during those cold days, so that the visiting friends could not sit very near to it. One young man, however, preferred to sit directly behind the stove where he would be hidden from the preacher.Everett, for that was his name, was about twenty-eight years of age. He was a well-built young man with a large shock of curly hair. He was a bachelor and lived alone in a cottage just outside the little town. He had a cow and some chickens, also a small garden, and by

selling the products of these, he was able to keep soul and body together.Everett was not known for his spirituality. He had the reputation around the village of being quite the opposite in character: rough, ungodly, and given to wicked practices.The services in the little church attracted quite a bit of attention in the neighbourhood, and almost the whole village was coming. This attracted our friend, and so he decided he would see what was going on at the church. A number of his friends were coming and some had been saved. All of them had been stirred, and the meetings were the talk of the neighbourhood. He therefore attended, but of course did not feel at home, and so sat in an obscure place in the back of the church behind the stove.As I gave the message, some portions The Young Ladies Journal ~

would be of unusual interest to him, and he would lean out from behind the stove to see me. I was quick to take advantage of this and would say something especially intended for him, but which was in connection with the message. He would soon draw back out of sight and remain hidden for a while. This continued throughout the meetings.One night the subject of the message was John 5:24- “Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that heareth my word, and believeth on him that sent me, hath everlasting life, and shall not come into condemnation; but is passed from death unto life.” I sought to make it clear to the audience that our manner of life revealed whether we were dead in sins or whether we were alive in Christ. As I explained the symptoms of a dead sinner, Everett became quite interested. His thick bushy hair appeared frequently from behind the stove. He would listen a moment and then pull his head back. Again in a few moments it would appear and then disappear. I knew that something unusual was taking hold of his soul. I hoped that he would come and speak with me at the close of the service.At no time did Everett remain behind for a personal conversation. He would bolt out of the door as soon as the message was finished, and no one was able to stop him or converse with him. He kept out of the path of the Christians during the day and avoided contact with those who could help him spiritually. He was naturally shy, but now he was far more so, because of his

soul trouble.The following Sunday night, when I came to the front of the church, imagine my surprise to see Everett sitting on the front seat, holding in his lap the largest Bible I had ever seen in the hands of any person. It was a pulpit Bible, and an unusually large one. I immediately went to him and said, “Everett, I cannot understand this situation. Last Sunday you were behind the stove. Now you are on the front seat. Last Sunday you had no Bible, now you have the largest Bible I have ever seen in anyone's hands! What has happened that has caused this wonderful change?”His face glowed with joy as he told the following story:“Last Sunday night, I sat behind the stove, listening to your sermon about Jesus making us alive. I had never heard anything like that in my life. I knew something was wrong with me, but did not know what it was. As you described the symptoms of a dead sinner, I saw right away that you were talking about me. You said that the dead sinner did not care for God, and certainly I never have. You said that the dead sinner did not understand the Bible, and I know very well I never did. You said that the dead sinner did not care whether others went to heaven or hell, and I never have cared a bit where anybody went. You said that anyone that was dead in their sins did not care very much whether they sinned or didn't, and I never have cared — really I loved to commit some sins. You certainly hit me right square on the head when you told those symptoms.The Young Ladies Journal ~

“When you closed the service, I beat it for home. I did not want to talk with anybody. I wanted to fight that thing out and see if I could understand it and get it straightened out. When I arrived at my little house, I lit my lantern, got out a little Testament that I had, and tried to find the place that you preached about, but I could not find that verse. I knew it was somewhere in John, and so I started reading from the first verse in John until I found it. I never went to school very much, so I cannot read very fast, and have to spell out some of the words. It was half past two in the morning before I got to John 5:24, where I found the verse I was looking for. I read the verse over and over again. I did not want to stay dead and be lost. I wanted Jesus to save me.“After reading it several times, I got down on my knees and said, 'Jesus, God sent You to save me, and I am going to let You do it. You said if I believed on You, I would have everlasting life, and I do believe on You, and I am taking You for my Saviour right now. I am going to be Your man and live for You, because You died for me.'“After praying, I got a wonderful peace in my heart, and I said to myself, 'If reading one verse will give so much peace, reading more verses will give me more peace.'“I sat down beside the lantern and read on until I came to the verse that says that no man does anything in secret, if he wants people to know him openly (John 7:4). I thought surely that is right. So I took my lantern and started out to tell the folks.

“When I knocked at my neighbour's house, he called out the window and wanted to know who was there. I told him it was me and that Jesus had just saved me, and I wanted him to know it.“He said, 'Oh, is that so?'“And I went on to the next house. I knocked at the door and pretty soon Jim stuck his head out upstairs and said, 'Who is down there?'“And I said, 'It is Everett. Jesus saved me a little while ago, and I want you to know about it. Goodbye.'“I went all around the village, Dr. Wilson, and told everybody in town, because I did not want Jesus to say that He saved me in secret and I did not tell it openly.”This wonderful story of faith and confession stirred my heart greatly. I rejoiced with him in the blessed relationship he had found with Christ. Still, however, I could not understand the secret of the big Bible, and so I asked him to tell me why he had such a big book. He told me the following story:“You see, Doctor, all I had at home was a little Testament, and the print was not very good in it, and the only light I had was a lantern. I wanted a whole Bible, one that had the old Bible in with the new Bible, so I could read it over. I wanted print big enough so I could read faster when I did not have a very good light.“Monday morning I went over to the bookstore in the next town, and I said to the book manager, 'Mr. Mack, I want The Young Ladies Journal ~

to buy a big Bible.'“He brought me out a Bible like that one you have that you preach out of, but I said, 'No, I do not want a little Bible like that; I want a big Bible.'“Then he brought me out a Bible that had maps in it and a lot of writings about the Bible and a thumb index for blind people to find the books, but I did not want that either, and I told him so.“I told him that I wanted a great big Bible, the biggest Bible he had in the store, so he brought out this one, and I said, 'That is just what I want. Wrap it up for me.'“Mack said, 'It will cost you $12.50.'“I said, 'That is all right. I never did buy a Bible, so I never spent any money on a Bible, and I might as well spend a whole lot now.'“He wrapped it up, and I paid him for it, and started out of the door. Then he called me and said, 'Everett, I cannot understand what you want with a Bible. Everybody around here knows that you have not been a church member. You have always run with a tough bunch, and you have kind of a bad reputation around here. How does it come that you want a Bible and such a big one?'“I was glad to tell Mack how that Jesus

had saved me, and now I was a Christian. I knew Christians ought to read their Bibles and not be ashamed of it.“I said to him, 'Mack, you are right. Everybody knows that I have been a tough fellow and never cared anything for the Bible, but now you see I belong to Jesus, and I want to carry a Bible everywhere I go. Now if I only had my little Bible, the New Testament that I have at home, I might be walking along the street with it, and I would see some of the old gang coming up the street, and the devil would say, “Everett, here comes the gang. Better put that Bible in your pocket.” Mr. Mack, I want a Bible I cannot get in my pocket. That is the reason I got this great big one. The devil is not going to get me to hide a Bible in my pocket after Jesus died for me and saved me.'“And that is the reason, Dr. Wilson, I have this big Bible. I want everybody to know that Everett has been converted and loves the Bible, and wants everybody else to know and love it.”What a rebuke this new convert is to many of you who know and love the Lord. May this incident lead each one to honour the Scriptures more, to confess Christ better, and to be an out-and-out testimony for our Saviour.“He who has God and everything

has no more than he who has God alone.”


Book Reviews

Mary Slessor: Servant to the SlaveBy Catherine Mackenzie

In this book, Catherine Mackenzie tells the amazing, page-turning story of Mary Slessor, a fiery, red-headed missionary who served in Africa during the 19th century. Born in 1848 in Scotland, raised in poverty, but transformed by the working power of God, Mary soon felt the Lord's impression to go to Africa which she did on August 5th, 1876. The many years that Mary had spent in the Scottish slums of Dundee during her childhood were – unknown to her – a rigorous training ground for the filth, sickness, hunger and squalor that faced her in West Africa. A truly inspiring, factual account of one of the greatest women

missionaries of all time. My favourite missionary biography; I highly recommend it! (My 11-year-old sister Ellie, on seeing this review commented, “Everyone should get this one. It is the best Mary Slessor biography I've read!”)

Amy Carmichael: Rescuer By NightBy Kay Walsh

Another book in the Trail Blazers series, this is also an inspiring introduction to the well-known missionary, Amy Carmichael. Her story is wound up in the lives of the little Indian boys and girls whom she rescued from the dark superstitions of Indian cast and idol worship. I read this book when I was nine, and I have re-read it several times since as a teenager... it is a timeless volume!


Daughters of the Faith SeriesBy Wendy Lawton

In this eight-book series, favourite author Wendy Lawton takes the reader through several different time periods, bringing to life the true stories of pioneering girls across America and Europe. Almost Home will introduce you to the hardships faced by the first pilgrims as they make the historical decision to leave England in exchange for right of religious freedom in the New World. You will be inspired as you read

of Pillis Wheatley, who although snatched from her native land as a girl, eventually went on to become a freed slave and internationally-renowned writer. Shadow of His Hand will face you with the harsh realities of a life in the time of Hitler when Anita, a child of both German and Jewish decent, must suffer the cruelties of a Nazi society – with a Heavenly Father. Meet John Bunyan's blind daughter, Mary, through the pages of The Tinker's Daughter, and shed tears with Olive Oatman in Ransom's Mark, as she is snatched from her family by America's wild Indian's, and finally faces the choice whether to return to the white man or remain with the Indians she has come to know.The rest of the books are all as inspiring and exciting as each other.

They are stories of the lives of true girls who were each bought up in very different situations, but all of whom chose to let God write their story.

IN THE SET...Almost Home: A story based on the life of The Mayflower's Mary Chilton.Ransom's Mark: A story based on the life of the pioneer Olive Oatman.

The Hallelujah Lass: A story based on the life of Salvation Army pioneer Eliza Shirley.Shadow of His Hand: A story based on the life of Holocaust survivor Anita Ditman.

The Captive Princess: A story based on the life of young Pocahontas.Courage to Run: A story based on the life of Harriet Tubman.

Freedom's Pen: A story based on the life of freed slave and author Phillis Wheatley.The Tinker's Daughter: A story based on the life of Mary Bunyan.

Note: I believe that another, newer book in the series has been released:“Indian Paintbrush: based on the life of young Eliza Spalding Warren,”


By Chloe Clarke

ather, may Your will be done. A silent prayer rested on the lips of a fiery red-headed Scotswoman as she peered over the rails of the great steamship. Her gaze met the exotic view of the Calabar River as the afternoon sun in September of 1876 lit up the slave coast of Africa. Mary Slessor placed her first resolute step on the soil of West Africa – or the vastly unexplored “White Man's Grave,” as it had come to be known. Only a fool would dare set foot in a territory that is filled with killer elephants, lions, witch doctors, cannibals, and swarms of malaria-infected mosquitoes and biting insects. But was Mary a fool? No, indeed. As a child, she had felt the strong impression to serve as a missionary in Africa, and by the almighty power of God, she had made it at last, aged twenty-nine years.Her thoughts wandered for a moment as she pondered over her childhood. So short. So long ago...“Take that! And that!” her red hair flying in all directions, Mary laid another well-placed fist on the little tormentor's stomach, “you winna call me no drunkard's lassie now? Pow!”

Her father. He'd given up in hopeless despair to the bottle when their eldest son had died. Poor mother – she'd carried the family through everything. Sickness, death, and more importantly, she'd given her children a strong foundation in the Word. She'd been the one to encourage Mary to follow the Lord's call – even when the mill squeezed her life into an eleven-year-old factory-worker, twelve hours a day, six days a week.Sickness. Poverty. Death. It had all stared her in the face back home. Little did Mary know that God had merely used it as a training ground for the battle she was to face in the remote jungles of West Africa.“Miss Slessor!” a gentle hand was laid on her elbow, and with a start Mary turned to face the cheerful woman who addressed her. “Miss Slessor! Welcome to Duke Town, my dear! It's such a delight to see you. Welcome,” grabbing Mary's hand and shaking it warmly, she smiled before continuing, “would you like to take a walk around the town? We must get to know each other at once!”

This must be Mrs Sutherland... Oh, I'm sure I'll like her! “Yes, please do, I'd love to see Duke Town. Thank you so much for being


here to meet me! It has been my dream to come to Africa for many years, and I want to get to work right away.”Mrs Sutherland introduced Mary to the mission they had established, which included a school, hospital, orphanage, and chapel. The mission work along the coast had been comparatively successful, and every Sunday saw the chapels filled with natives. However, she soon learned that regions beyond the coast were left untouched – and those who did dare to venture further inland rarely came out again.Mary Slessor began her work by visiting the coastal areas and river villages with a translator. But when Mary learned to speak the local languages, she went without a translator. She was admonished against this because it was thought to be too dangerous, but Mary found that going alone provided ample opportunity both to be a more effective missionary, and to be able to venture further and further into the jungles. The farther she travelled from the mission station, the greater the need for missionaries.O Father, Mary would lay awake at night on her mat, thinking of the natives who might never know of Christ. Father, thank

You for helping me to bring the Light to the natives around me... but Father, there are so many more villages back in the jungle where no white man has gone. Lord, they need you too! Please Father, help me to find a way to reach them!Whenever Mary had an opportunity, she would ask the head missionaries if she could try visiting an isolated village. The answer was always the same: “No, Mary... it's too dangerous... we'd never see you again... we can't allow you to risk your life... those people are cannibals... you'd be eaten alive!” and so on it went.

Finally, after returning home from a furlough to Scotland, Mary was given charge of her own outstation: Old Town. At last, thought Mary, I'm finally being given a little bit of freedom... and some real missionary work!Her first view of Old Town was of a human skull swinging from a pole in front of the town meeting house. Father, I'm ready for whatever work you have for me here, and instead of shrinking at the thought of fate, Mary surged forward into her work with renewed passion and purpose.Her days were filled with treating the sick, teaching the Bible, and visiting neighbours. Cutting off her long, bothersome hair and throwing away her big European petticoats and skirts, she exchanged a life of “manners” for the comfortable life-style of the natives. She taught the natives the love of Christ and urged them to quit worshipping the skulls of dead men. She defied their fear of “evil spirits” and waged a battle against the improper tradition of killing a rich man's wives and slaves at his death for him to take with him into the “afterlife.” She showed the women better ways to keep their homes clean and children healthy. Mary also became known throughout the area for her wise counsel and fair judgement. A Christian chief, King Eyo Honesty the Sixth, who often asked Mary for advice in dealing with white men also helped Mary in her work with the natives.Although Mary's work was successful in Old Town, she still felt a great burden for the remote Okoyong tribe that had never heard the gospel. Lord, how can I bring the gospel to those people as well? Father, they are ruled by superstition and liquor. How can I reach them?Mary prayed for the Lord's leading, and at last, in June 1888, she quietly announced that she would go upriver alone and find a


place to settle. “You will die. You will die,” her friends told her.But the Lord had a special transport passage for Mary – a passage that would guarantee a safe arrival. Her friendship with King Eyo Honesty was more than repaid when he said that if she must go, he would send her as a “big person” in his own special canoe. So it was that Mary Slessor, red-headed Scotswoman, arrived in the land of Okoyong in the biggest and grandest canoe in all of Calabar with twenty paddlers in tow.The Lord had also prepared the heart of the chief of the first village they found. Mary was the first outsider ever allowed to live there, and she was given permission by the chief to build a school.To a people who did not know what love was, Mary brought the love of Christ. Hardly a day went by without a serious crisis. Mary was always there to stand in the way of wrong, and although she got little rest and her health was bad, she was slowly able to bring the true understanding of the gospel of peace to the natives.In one instance, Mary rushed at the sound of commotion to find a long string of men preparing for war. They passed around liquor, danced, and yelled threats at the other side. They were in war paint, and their spears and shields glimmered in the sun. The skulls and scalps of earlier victims waved from poles.Just as the two sides were about to rush together, they stopped in utter amazement at the sight of a small, seemingly calm woman standing on a log between them. The leader spoke, “Out of the way, Ma. We fight!”She ignored the shouting warrior.“Out of the way. You die, too, white Ma. Move on!”

“Shoot if you dare!” she called back.When the two sides came to remove this red-headed obstacle, Mary knew that she had won. She would scold them as children, plead with them to show mercy, or suggest they move to the shade of a tree to talk. Mary knitted while they talked, and she got a lot of knitting done. After hours of talking the men were calmer and too tired to fight. They went home without bloodshed.Another time, when news of the trouble came too late for Mary to settle it, she went to her table, pulled out a fine piece of parchment, and quickly made big marks all over it. She then sealed it with wax and tied it with a great red ribbon. A runner sped this important document to where the fight was about to begin. Her scribbles were nothing but nonsense, but since none of the Okoyong could read, the warriors would spend the day puzzling over the important piece of paper sent by the “White Ma!” They were still studying the document when Mary arrived.After a time, Mary realised that as long as the Okoyong had nothing else to do, they would get drunk, and drunkenness always led to fighting. “Perhaps,” she thought, “if I could get them to work, they would not have time for fighting and drunkenness.”Mary pulled out her nicest possessions and displayed them to the Okoyong: some cloth, a teapot, and an old sewing machine. They liked what they saw. “Friends,” she said, “You can have nicer things than this if you take your palm oil and yams to the traders.”“These things you have – very nice,” said one chief. “But it is no good. Traders afraid to come here. No good for us to go to them. River gods kill us.”“I will go with you. You will be safe.”“No. Too much bad.”The Young Ladies Journal ~

Mary told of the wonderful things down the river. Finally they agreed to go and loaded a canoe. The chiefs and warriors shook with fear as they set off towards Duke Town and Old Town.King Eyo hosted a great feast for the visiting chiefs. He showed them the good things they could have if they gave up their old ways. He told them that the God of the “White Ma” was the true God. Eyo was kind to the poor, backward Okoyong chiefs. Before they left he gave them each presents, including some fine cloth. The Okoyong could hardly believe their good fortune.As a result of these meetings, the Okoyong region was opened to outsiders. Mary had done what traders, soldiers, and diplomats had been unable to do for four hundred years. There was now a reason for honest work. This was a great milestone in the lives of the Okoyong people, and in time many of the Okoyong came to accept the gospel. Free of their pagan fears and drunkenness, they could now understand God's love for them. In place of idols small churches arose. A court system was established to settle disputes, and Mary was made the first judge.Because of Mary's unfailing love and persistence, civilisation came more quickly to the Okoyong than it did along the coastal regions, where for hundreds of years the white traders had tried to force the natives to change. It was only when the gospel changed the lives of the natives that progress was made.

Any other missionary may have seen this accomplishment as the end of their work, but not Mary. True to her God, once again she fought to bring the gospel to the tribes in regions beyong Okoyong. Once again she met protest, but her call was, “Onward! I dare not look back.”Mary's reputation as a great and wise woman and as a fair and honest judge had gone before her into the land of the Azo, a dreaded cannibal tribe. Although at first the Azo people seemed to show little interest in her message, soon many accepted Christ. In one town it was reported by Mary that there were two hundred converts.In the time she had left, Mary did all she could. She walked the paths until she was too old and feeble to walk them any longer. Some Scottish friends sent her a cart that could be used to pull her to the villages. They urged Mary to come to Scotland for a rest. She wanted to, but prayed instead that God would give her the strength to finish the job among the cannibals. Strength came and she worked faster and harder.Two years later, in January 1915, the Lord took Mary home to be with Him.A government boat was then sent to carry her body down the river to Duke Town. She was buried on a hillside by the mission station where she had first served.Her life was a life of courage and complete faith and trust in the Almighty power of God. The forty years she spent in Africa are a testimony to the life of a little red-headed lassie from Scotland.The Young Ladies Journal ~

Am I Saved?Q. I consider myself a good person. Surely I am going to heaven?

A. Jesus said "There is none good but God.”. The Bible also says: “... the ... unbelieving, and sorcerers (those who practice or entertain witchcraft in any form), and idolaters (anything that is more important than God in my life or any image that I reverence in place of God) and all liars (includes little lies, white lies, and half lies I have told) shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death. Be not deceived: neither fornicators, ...nor thieves ...shall inherit the kingdom of God. But now

ye also put off all these; anger, wrath, malice, blasphemy (using God's name without the reverence it deserves: God, Jesus, gee, gosh, etc), filthy communication out of your mouth. Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is a sin. For whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all. As it is written, There is none righteous, no, not one. For ALL have sinned, and come short of the glory of God. ...as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgement.”

Q. Well, okay, I realise I'm not so good as I first thought! What can I do about my sins, is there any hope for me?

A. “...except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Repent ye therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be blotted out.... . Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth and the life: no man cometh unto the Father (God), but by me. Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name (that of Jesus Christ) under Heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved. For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son,

that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have

everlasting life. Behold, I (Jesus


Christ) stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door. I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me. (A relationship with Christ as our Saviour). For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive; and plenteous in mercy unto all them that call upon thee.

Q. So I sincerely call upon Jesus Christ to forgive my sins and live for him?

A. “For by grace are ye saved through faith; and that not of yourselves: it is the gift of God: Not of works, least any man should boast. But be ye doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving your own selves. What? know ye not that our body is the temple of the Holy Ghost which is in you, which ye have of

God, and ye are not your own? For ye are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God's. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same bringeth forth much fruit: for without me ye can do nothing. My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.”

Scriptures: Rev 21:8, 1 Cor 6:9,10, Col 3:8, James 2:10 & 4:17, Rom 3:10,23, Heb 9:27, Luke 13:3, Rom 6:23, Acts 3:19, John 14:6, Acts 4:12, John 3:16, Rev 3:20, Psalm 86:5, Eph 2:8,9, James 1:22, 1 Cor 6:19,20, John 15:5, John 10:27, 28, Psalm 119:105. Words in brackets are for clarification.

Thought ProvokerA Newspaper printed this article titled “Russian Church Leaders: Stop Sending Rock Music” The message was this: “For 30 years we (Russians) have suffered intense persecution, and now freedom is bringing another great harm to our churches. This damage is coming from the Christians in America who are sending rock music and evangelists accompanied by rock bands. Rock music has nothing in common with ministry or service to God…We were in prison for 15 years… rock music was used as a weapon against us day and night to destroy our souls… we call this music from hell. We urge all Americans stop giving money for the organisation of such concerts in Russia. We want only traditional Christian music in our churches. This is the unanimous decision of all our leaders.” Perhaps these Christians in Russia, who have suffered enormous persecution for many years are more spiritually sensitive to this beat or perhaps they just want to obey God’s word which abdicates us to “sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with grace in our hearts to the Lord.”?


Contentment...…

...is not the fulfilment

of what you want,

but the realisation of what you

already have. The Young Ladies Journal ~

young ladies journaltheyoungladiesjournal.weebly.com/uploads/1/2/2/7/12272195/_winter_2013... ·...

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