Guest Post: Abigail Hamilton
“For faith has caught the joyful sound, the song of saints on higher ground…”
The peddler wheeled his cart through the streets. Exhausted. Even though there were crowds of people—no doubtless hungry—he was getting little business. The hot rays of the sun beat down as he mopped his forehead.
“Peaches!” he bellowed. “Fresh peaches! Juicy, ripe, and picked just this morning!”
Oh, yes, maybe one or two customers, but the pile of peaches just sat in his cart untouched.
Just then a man walked up to the peddler. “What are you selling?”
A bit irritated, but eager to sell more, “Peaches,” the peddler responded.
“Not much luck I take it by your hoarse voice and your wealth of produce.”
The peddler shook his head.
“Here,” the stranger said, “I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Without another word, the man picked up a big, soft peach and sank his teeth into the fruit. The juice oozed out of the corners of his mouth as the sticky sweetness rolled down the sides of his face, then dripped off his chin. It wasn’t long until some passersby noticed the man. The sweet smell of ripe peaches wafted throughout the streets. There stood the man still, with a contented smile of satisfaction as the juice dripped off his chin to the ground.
Needless to say, the peddler got his business and rolled the empty cart back home that night.
I have found that our church world has many a peach-peddler. The ones who tell us the way and how much we need it. We’ve seen them push their carts up and down the streets and yell until their voice went hoarse.
But friend, I’ve had the privilege to know some peach-eaters. I’ve seen the juice roll down the sides of their face and drip off their chin. I’ve seen the peace and joy that couldn’t but help ooze out of the corners of their mouth. The ones who rejoice and proclaim, “I’ve tasted and seen that the Lord is good!”
After seeing these precious peach-eaters, it wasn’t long until my stomach started growling and my soul began to crave the glory. The sticky, sweet juice and elated faces had me more convinced than the peddlers.
As a young girl, I knew many peach-eaters. I saw their lives and heard their testimonies. I saw them go through deep waters but saw the shine on their faces grow brighter. I witnessed their connection with God and power in prayer. I never doubted the sweetness of the peach they were feasting on.
I told myself, “If I ever get it, I want what they have.”
I remember the day that I made my way up to the great pile of peaches and got ahold of one for myself. And as I’ve sunk my teeth deep, I too have felt the juice roll down my cheeks; I too have been satisfied.
When thinking and praying along these lines, these words come to my mind…
“The glory of the Lord is what attracted me
To seek God for the blessing
That would bring me victory
Just to know the wondrous feeling
Have His presence warm my heart
I’m contending for the glory
I never want it to depart
I’m contending for the glory of the Lord in our midst
With His presence we are sure of victory
It’s the glory that will draw lost souls to kneel at Calvary
I’m contending for the glory of the Lord”
May we be challenged. May our prayer be for the Lord to make us peach-eaters…that we’d possess the glory like those dear, old saints of God did. That today we’d live in such a way where it would make those around us hungry, that the juice would seep out of the corners of our mouths and drip off our faces. That we’d be full of God’s glory.
Not merely peach-peddlers, but that the Lord would make us peach-eaters.