One of our ministers was being shown through the new chapel at the Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs, Colorado. It is a large, modern building, beautiful in every detail.

The minister particularly admired the lovely Jewish chapel. As he stopped in the middle of the room to enjoy the quiet peacefulness of the surroundings, he noticed overhead a rather unusual light fixture, and commented on it to his guide.

"Oh, yes," said the guide, "that light is of special significance. It represents the eternal light of God. But," he added apologetically, "the light is burned out just now."

It may strike us as rather careless that anything representing the eternal God should be allowed to "burn out," but that is the way things are on this earth. Everything we know of has a beginning and an ending. Things go wrong with people and they die. Machines break and refuse to run. Lights go out, power goes off, and industry comes to a standstill. Nothing that is man-made is entirely dependable.

But God is not like that. Although the earth-made representation of His love and light may go out, God is always there. He is without beginning and will be without ending -- a thing we cannot understand. He is ever-present. He knows where we are, He knows who we are. He knows our needs better than we do, and He understands our weaknesses. For, you see, He is our Maker.

We may have friends who are faithful and true. And yet sometimes when we need them they are not there to help. But God is always there in His heaven. He is always available. He is as close to us as a thought, as a whispered prayer. And He is always willing to help us.

Yes, the light bulb that represents God may go out, but we can be sure that He is always in His heaven, always mindful of His creation and the needs of mankind. If we need security, surely here is the greatest security that we can have.

"The Blind Weaver"

It was a queer little rug. The threads of the warp were yellow, lavender, and green. Across it were woven colors that at places seemed to sparkle with light. Other spots were dark and somber with purples and blacks.

It had a pattern, but the pattern was crooked and lopsided. The rug itself was ragged and uneven at the edges. Broken threads showed up here and there to mar its beauty.

The weaver, you see, was blind. He had a pattern that he tried to follow with his fingers. He worked hard at the weaving and did his best, but the results were a bit odd.

Our lives are somewhat like that rug and that weaver. We hear about Christ and we admire the pattern of His life. But we cannot always see the pattern clearly, and our efforts are awkward. We falter and make broken threads. Our weaving is not always straight. The results are rather peculiar.

What we need to do is to place our rug of life in God's hands. He will guide our faltering hands. He will help our blind eyes to see. He will help us straighten out the crooked pattern and the uneven edges. He will place bright spots of color in our life and make it a thing of peculiar attractiveness.

Yes, we need God. We need His care and protection. His guidance is necessary to carry us through to a successful Christian life. We need His forgiveness, for we have all sinned. We need Him as a helpless child needs its parents. And we need to give our entire life into His hands, so He will help us in our efforts to be more like Christ.