WARE VERHALE

1. ZINZENDORF:   Daar was eendag ‘n baie ryk edelman met die naam Zinzendorf.  Hy het in ‘n groot kasteel gewoon.  Sy pa is dood toe hy net 6 weke oud was, maar voor sy pa se dood het hy vir Zinzendorf aan die Here opgedra en vir hom gebid.  Sy ma en ouma het hom grootgemaak, en vir hom altyd vertel van Jesus.  Toe hy vier jaar oud was het hy vir die Here ‘n brief geskryf en in ‘n koevert gesit en uitgegooi by die kasteel se venster.  Die wind het die brief weggewaai.  In die brief het hy geskryf:  “Here Jesus, kom woon in my hart en neem al my sonde weg.  Wees asb. my Herder, my Vriend en ek wil U kind wees vir ewig.”
   Toe Zinzendorf ouer was het hy na ‘n Universiteit gegaan om te studeer.  Op 19 jarige ouderdom was hy ‘n ryk man en het hy besluit om ‘n wêreld-toer te neem en na verskillende stede gereis.  Eendag het hy ‘n kunsgalery besoek en daar het iets wonderlik met hom gebeur.
   In een van die sale het daar ‘n skildery gehang van Jesus aan die kruis vasgespyker met ‘n doringkroon op sy kop.  Onder die kruis het dié woorde gestaan en dit was asof die Here met Zinzendorf self gepraat het:  “Dit het ek vir jou gedoen, wat doen jy vir my?”
   Zinzendorf het lank voor die skildery gestaan en besef dat Jesus was baie ryk, maar Hy het arm geword  en sy lewe gegee vir Zinzendorf.
   Die trane het oor sy wange gerol en hy het besef dat hy nog niks vir Jesus gedoen het nie.  Hy het sy lewe weer opnuut aan die Here gegee en belowe dat hy van daardie dag af vir God sal lewe.
   In daardie tyd was baie gelowiges vervolg omdat hulle gelowiges was.  Zinzendorf het sy kasteel beskikbaar gestel waarheen mense kon vlug.  Daar het hulle Bybelstudie gedoen en saam gebid.  Baie mense het daar besef dat hulle as sendelinge na verskillende lande moet gaan.  Zinzendorf het dit moontlik gemaak dat hulle uitgegaan het as sendelinge om die Evangelie-boodskap te verkondig aan mense wat nog nie van Jesus gehoor het nie.
   
   
   Wil jy nie ook vir die Here ‘n brief skryf en vir Hom sê hoe lief jy Hom het nie?

 VAN KLOOSTER TOT MôRESTER   – Katharina Luther

Sy is die “Môrester van die Hervorming” genoem, ‘n naam wat sy gekry het omdat sy die gewoonte gehad het om baie vroeg op te staan en met haar huiswerk te begin.  Haar seun Paul, het weer gesê “Die môrester weerkaats die lig van die son en die son van die Reformasie was haar man, Martin Luther.”  Haar biograaf, Karl Hesselbacher, het gesê:  “Luther sonder sy Kathe is absoluut ondenkbaar!  Sy het die grond voorberei en versorg waarin hierdie reuse-boom kon groei en sy takke en twye oor Duitsland en die hele wêreld uitsprei.”  Sy is in 1499 gebore die oudste kind van ‘n verarmde ouers uit die laer adelstand.  Haar moeder is oorlede toe sy 5 was en haar pa het haar in ‘n Benediktynse klooster gesit om ‘n leerlingnon te word.  Toe Luther die skokgolwe deur die Katolieke kerk laat gaan het met Kerkhervormingsidees, het 9 nonne o.a. Kathe besluit, om hul by Luther se hervormingsbeweging aan te sluit.  Toe hulle in Wittenberg aankom, het Luther en sy vriende met ontsteltenis daarvan kennis geneem en nie geweet wat om met die 9 vroue te doen nie.  Luther eht gemeen die beste sou wees om vir al 9 mans te kry.  Almal het geslaag, behalwe Kathe.  Sy het 2 huweliksaansoeke van die hand gewys en toe vir Luther laat weet:  “As U Doktor Luther self vir my vra om u vrou te word, sou ek sekerlik ja sê.”  Luther was heeltemal onkant gevang, maar na oordenke gevoel dit sal goed wees.    Luther het ‘n jaar voor sy dood gesê:  “Wie ‘n goeie vrou vind, en haar syne maak, kry ‘n wonderlike geskenk, maar ‘n man moet natuurlik baie geduld hê.”

Kathe se hande het vir niks verkeerd gestaan nie.  Sy het ook besef sy sal die geldsake moet hanteer, want Luther was uiters vrygewig en het sommer huweliksgeskenke weggegee as bedelaars kom aanklop het.  In hulle huis het baie gesprekke plaasgevind van die groot hervormers en het sy hul ontvang as eregaste.  Na Luther se dood het Kathe gesê:  “Niks is meer dieselfde nie, my aardse son het ondergegaan.”  Daarna het sy haar verdiep in die Woord van die Here tot haar dood in 1552. (53jr. oud) 

BLIND MAAR HAAR HART KON SIEN  – Fanny Crosby 

Sy is gebore in New York in 1820.  Sy is blind gebore en kon nie eens dag en nag onderskei nie.  Op 15 jarige ouderdom is sy na ‘n skool vir blindes waar sy 11 jaar studeer het en vir 11 jaar instruktrise was.  Toe het sy haar lewe voltyds aan evangelisasiewerk gewy.  Sy was van vroeg af lief om gedigte te skryf en poësie was haar groot liefde.  Sy het nie sukses gehad met manuskripte aan uitgewers nie, maar ‘n rondtrekkende evangelis het haar gevra om vir hom ‘n lied te skryf vir hul evangelisasie-byeenkomste.  Binne 3 dae het sy haar eerste lied geskryf.  Eendag het sy gehoor hoe iemand ‘n melodie skryf en gesê.   “Speel dit weer, die sê vir my  iets”  - binne ‘n halfuur het sy die bekende Hallelujalied geskryf”  Veilig in Jesus hoede, sag aan sy bors gesus!  Daar in sy liefde-skadu, vind ook my siel eens rus.  Hierdie lied is in 53 tale vertaal.   “Red wat verlore gaan” het sy een aand na ‘n evangelisasie-byeenkoms by dokwerkers geskryf.  Sy het die gevoel gekry dat daar ‘n eensame jongman is wat ver van sy ouerhuis is en baie hartseer is.  Sy vra toe dat die jongman wat ver van sy ouerhuis is en hartseer is, haar na die diens sal kom spreek.  Daar kom toe ‘n 18jarige man en sy kon hom die aand na die Here lei en het die lied geskryf.

Die lied wat D.L. Moody sê wat die meeste mense na die Here Jesus gelei het, meer as honderdduisend preke, dit was ook die kenwysie van Moody se veldtogte en menige Pinksterbiduur oor ons land – is “Gaan my nie verby, o Heiland.”.  Op haar 90ste verjaardat, het die stralend-gelukkige dame by ‘n partytjie aan haar vriende gesê:  “Ek kyk terug oor ‘n lewe van stryd en oorwinning.  En ek kyk vorentoe met verwagting in my hart, die verwagting om die wonderskone dinge van die ewigheid te sien.”  

‘n Ander skryfster van geestelike liedere het van Fanny gesê:

“How can she sing in the dark like this?

What is her fountain of light and bliss?

O, her heart can see, her heart can see!

Well may she sing so joyously!”  

 MARY JONES AND HER BIBLE

The story of a young girl who walked twenty-five miles to get a Bible in her own language.

Many years ago, a little girl lived with her mother in a small cottage in the Welsh countryside. Her home was in a green valley in the shadow of a mountain, and from there you could sometimes see the sea in the far distance. Her father was a weaver who worked very hard to support his family but sadly he died when Mary was young.

On Sunday mornings, Mary dressed in her Sunday best, would walk to the little chapel in the village two miles away.

At the front, the minister would open a large, black, leather-bound book. As he began to read, Mary would marvel at the wonderful words and store them up in her heart. After the service, she would go cautiously up to look at the impressive book. There were two words printed in gold on its cover. Mary guessed that these said ‘Holy Bible’ because she had heard the minister mention the name of the book. The words inside looked odd to her. ‘How can anyone ever make sense of these squiggles?’ she thought. ‘Oh, how I wish I could read this book for myself, or even have one for my own!’

Then, on Sunday morning, the minister, announced that a school was to open in the village. Mary was excited. ‘Now I can learn to read,’ she said, ‘and make sense of those strange marks in the book at chapel.’

The schoolmaster, Mr Evans, and his wife moved into a farmhouse not far from Mary’s home. Mary worked extra hard to finish her chores quickly so that she could go to the Evans’ house to learn to read. Her parents saw how hard their daughter worked at both schoolwork and her duties at home.

Months passed and seasons changed, until at last Mary was asked to read from the chapel Bible one Sunday morning. She was not very tall, so a special wooden box for her to stand on so that she could see the words properly. Now the squiggles were no longer strange to her. She read perfectly. Mr and Mrs Jones were very proud of their daughter.

After the service, Mary rushed up to her mother. ‘I must have a Bible, I must have a Bible!’ she cried. Her mother gently placed his hand on her shoulder. ‘But Mary, Bibles are expensive, and we haven’t much money.’

‘I know, I know, that’s why I am going to save up for one, and I don’t care how long it takes me. I’ll do jobs for other people, I’ll save all my pennies, I’ll do anything just to have my own Bible.’

And that is exactly what Mary did. For six long years she saved all she could until the day came when she had enough money to buy a Bible. Mr Evans had told her that there was a man in a town called Bala who had a number of Bibles. Mary, now fifteen, told her mother that she was going to walk to Bala.

Her mother exclaimed, ‘Daughter, that’s nearly twenty-five miles away!’ But there was no changing Mary’s mind – she had waited too long for that. So, with her purse of money and some bread and cheese tied up in a bundle, she set off.

The journey to Bala seemed endless. Mary followed many paths, crossed valleys and streams and found her way around hills. As her weariness grew and her aching limbs seemed almost too much to bear, she muttered words of encouragement to herself. ‘Come on, Mary, not much further now,’ she thought. Eventually she came to the brow of a hill, from which she could see the edge of a town. Dusk was falling, and candlelight had begun to flicker in cottage windows. Mary's heart pounded with excitement. Here was Bala at last!

She recognised it from Mr Evans’ clear description. With renewed energy and a new determination, she set off again down the hill.

Mary asked for directions to find Mr Charles. After knocking on several doors and asking for directions, she found his house. She ran up the garden path and knocked loudly on the large oak door.

As it was opened, Mary made her request for a Bible, the words tumbling over themselves in her eagerness: ‘I’ve walked twenty-five miles to get here, I’ve saved up for six years to buy a Bible, I’ve got the money here, you can count it if you like – please can I have a Bible?’

Mr Charles was taken aback. ‘You had better come in and tell me all about it, but first you must have something to eat. You must be famished.’ He smiled kindly and beckoned the housekeeper to take Mary to the kitchen. After she had eaten, Mary told Mr Charles everything.

He was moved by her account. And he held out to her a brand new Bible. Mary stared at it for a long moment before taking it with both hands. Then she expressed her heartfelt thanks.

The next morning, Mary, clutching her treasured possession, said goodbye to Mr Charles and started on her way home. She arrived to a grand reception. It seemed as if everyone was there. Her mother threw her arms around her and hugged her. Nearby stood Mr Evans and the minister, smiling broadly and clapping their hands. Everyone was cheering and wanted Mary to show them her Bible. As she held the book up for all tosee, she murmured a few quiet words. ‘Thank you, Jesus, thank you Mr Charles,’ she said.

In his study, Mr Charles remembered how the young girl had disappeared over the brow of a hill still holding the new Bible to her chest. He began to think of all the other Mary Joneses who must be wanting Bibles, not only in Wales but in England, Scotland, Ireland, and even in other more distant lands.

In 1804, the British and Foreign Bible Society was formed by Thomas Charles and other important men in response to needs which stories like that of Mary Jones had brought to light.

Bible Society is working for the day when the Bible’s God-given revelation, inspiration and wisdom is shaping the lives and communities everywhere.

Bible Society,

T: 01793 418100 F: 01793 418118 biblesociety.org.uk Charity Registration No 232759

Stonehill Green, Westlea, Swindon SN5 7DG