September 13—Morning—Deuteronomy 6:9
"And you shall write them upon the posts of your house, and on your gates." — Deuteronomy 6:9

See, my soul, what a gracious provision the Lord made for the glory and honor of His people Israel, that every traveler passing by might say, 'Here dwells an Israelite indeed; he has the name of the Lord of Hosts upon his house.' And did it please the Lord God of Israel to have His people known this way, and shall it not be my desire to have Your name, Lord, upon the gates of my house? Shall anyone pass by my door, unaware that a lover of the Lord Jesus dwells there? No, shall I not consider it my highest honor to have it known whose I am, and whom I serve, in the gospel of His dear Son? Shall I be ashamed of that name before which every knee bows in heaven and on earth?

Oh Lord Jesus, not only write Your name upon the gates of my house, but engrave it in the center of my heart, in my affections, my first and last, earliest and latest thoughts! Let it be my rapture and my joy to speak out of the abundance of my heart concerning You and Your great salvation. In all I say, in all I do, let it be clear that I am in pursuit of Him whom my soul loves. Let every action tend to honor Your dear name; whether at home or abroad, in my house or with my family, when lying down or when rising up, let all creation witness for me that the love, service, interest, and glory of my God in Christ is the one and only object of my soul's desire; and let everything speak this language: "Whom have I in heaven but You, and there is none on earth I desire besides You; and though my flesh and heart fail, You are the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

September 13—Evening—Luke 17:7, 8
"But which of you, having a servant plowing or feeding cattle, will say to him when he comes in from the field, 'Come at once and sit down to eat'? Will he not rather say to him, 'Prepare my supper, get yourself ready, and wait on me while I eat and drink; after that, you may eat and drink'?" — Luke 17:7, 8

I have often thought that the Lord Jesus, the bountiful Lord of all His servants, who gives generously to supply all His household, has a more special and suited provision for His servants in the ministry, who are employed by Him to set forth His table for others. They are like the servant described here, in the field, plowing and engaged in every aspect of spiritual husbandry. But when they return, their special privilege is to wait upon their Master. And well it is for them; for in faithfully discharging their labors, so great and constant are their duties in following up the various aspects of it, that, while tending the vineyard—the church—their own interests would be sadly neglected and forgotten.

Yet it is a most certain truth that no servant in a family can be faithful to his Lord's interests who is not faithful to himself. No minister of the Lord Jesus can be concerned for other men's souls if he has no concern for his own. How very blessed it is, then, that the Lord Jesus has made suitable provision in this regard, that when the public service of the day is over, He opens the way to private enjoyment in Himself alone. My soul, has not Jesus, in this delightful scripture, taught you this sweet lesson? Public ordinances will be doubly blessed when, in later moments of quiet, we wait upon Jesus in private. And in the busiest life, there will always be some moment to do this.

Jesus Himself, "when He had sent the multitudes away, went up into the mountain, apart, to pray." The night opened to Him the pleasures of communion when the public services had engaged Him all day. And will You not, dear Lord, while Your servant waits upon You at Your table, bless him with some glimpse of Your glory? Will he not find himself refreshed in hearing the gracious words which drop from Your sacred lips? Will he not indeed consider "Your words more than his necessary food?" Yes, Lord, You will be both his meat and his drink, and to wait on You at Your table will be found more blessed than all the unsanctified tables of those who feast sumptuously every day!

by Robert Hawker