When I Make up my Jewels

I had the great privilege to sit and reason together with two very dear and aging saints today. Where two or three are gathered, there is the Lord in the midst of us. As we yarned, laughed and praised God for his unfailing goodness, I sensed that true and beautiful unity that the saints share when we fellowship in his name. This godly man, now in a very rigid and painful stage of Parkinson's disease rested his head  back and  tears began to run down his face. His dear wife questioned him in alarm. But they were not tears of pain, he was trying to express something.
"Malachi, jewels," he said hoarsely.
"It's a verse!" I suggested. He's trying to tell us a verse."
Sure enough! As she pressed him and looked it up, he was quoting Malachi 3.


16Then they that feared the LORD spake often one to another: and the LORD hearkened, and heard it, and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the LORD, and that thought upon his name.


17And they shall be mine, saith the LORD of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him.


18Then shall ye return, and discern between the righteous and the wicked, between him that serveth God and him that serveth him not.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

Need I say that I too shed a tear '-)