Posted in uncategorized, tagged Word on June 17, 2015|
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“For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ: for it is the power of God unto salvation
to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.
“For therein is the righteousness of God revealed from faith to faith:
as it is written, The just shall live by faith.”
Rom 1.16-17
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“Christ does not propose to emancipate any person from the necessity
of exercising his judgment in regard to his innocent appetites.”
– Daniel Steele
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People get religious without getting right, and
it ruins them for true righteousness.
– eab, 11/5/12
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Given enough fleeting years,
We all pass this vale of salty tears.
Escape death? Chances are zero to none.
Being prepared to leave this earth,
Is then the subject of greatest worth,
God provides His royal way, His Son.
– eab, Jun. ‘10
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ON THIS DATE
Nettie Peabody arrived at God’s Bible School, 6/17/1901. The following is from my book (© 2009) Glimpses of Greatness: Nettie Peabody – Professor, Onetime Social Dean
Miss Peabody was, along with the late, E. G. Marsh, the “old guard” of God’s Bible School. She had spent many years faithfully teaching. But at some past point she was also dean of women. She would sit in “the parlor” when a boy and the girl in which he was interested would have a “date.” It was reputed that she even in previous decades would sit the middle of the couch while the boy sat on one end and the girl the other. If that was not true, it at least made a good story. This was Sister Peabody.
My parents and I (at fourteen) made a mutual decision that I would come to school, about a three and a half hour trip. Janet Ferguson (later Sankey) was the only soul I knew in a school of hundreds and a city of a million. It was my first time to be away from home and I did not have the knack of ironing shirts. Though it was an exception to the rule, permission was sought and obtained for Janet to iron my shirts the first time (or times). This brought on my sole, negative encounter, with this dear old lady.
At an appointed hour I was on the end steps to receive my ironed shirts. Miss Peabody lived on the end of the second floor of the administration building. Therefore her window looked upon, and was not far from, the steps I had accented for my shirts. I was not doing wrong and had no reason to see, if she was seeing me or not. She was. The window flew up. (Can you hear the “clag, clag” of those cast iron counter-weights inside the frame?) A high pitched voice demanded, “Young man, what are you doing there?” Thankfully she accepted my explanation but probably watched till I, shirts-in-hand, descended into the neutral territory below.
She was still teaching when I reached college age and I could have had one of her classes. But while being there four years of high school I had picked up the idea I did not want to take a class under Peabody or under Marsh. One or both had a reputation of being super easy grade-wise and that turned me off. So, perhaps foolishly, I missed learning from them.
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