"My", What a Difference it Makes

 
Harold had had a romping day at the seaside. Paddling in the pools left by the receding tide, finding a huge crab, he put it in his bucket beside the smaller ones. At length the time for home and bed.
“Come, sonnie, it’s bedtime!” The laddie laid aside his playthings with a wistful sigh, and followed his mother “up, the wooden hill to the Land of Nod.”
A few minutes later, clean and dainty in his white pajamas, he knelt at her knee to say his evening prayer. With clasped hands and closed eyes, reverently the wee man began to voice his simple petitions.
“Dear Jesus”—a pause. His mother waited. Then the curly head was raised and two bright brown eyes looked up. thoughtfully into her own. “May I say ‘My dear Jesus,’ mother?” came the earnest question.
How mother’s heart thrilled as she realized that her small son was eager to claim her Lord and Master as his own! Years have passed since then, and the little boy has reached manhood, a manhood helped and strengthened and uplifted by his close fellowship with the Lord Jesus Christ.
What a difference that tiny word “my” makes! DAVID knew it.
“The Lord is my Shepherd.” Psalms 23.
JOB sounded it out in the midst of his troubles:
Poor Thomas found it difficult to believe his fellow-disciples’ report that they had “seen the Lord.” But when he was graciously allowed the proofs which he had needed, and realized that Jesus Himself had actually risen from the dead, and was standing before him, he cried out in love and adoration,
Thank God, it is gloriously possible for every one of our readers to come into sang contact with the Divine Redeemer, and to be saved for time and Eternity. Trust Him now and say,
“My Lord and my Saviour.”
ML 05/21/1939