I remember as a boy going to the bathroom in our home one day to draw some water.  But none came.  There were a few drops, and some sputtering—­there’s very apt to be sputtering when there is nothing else—­but no flow of water.  And I wondered why.  Soon I found that the main pipe in the street was being fixed, and the water had been cut off at the curb.  There was water in the pipe clear from the curbstone up to the spigot, but I could not get it because the reservoir connection under the ground had been turned off.

I have met some people since then that made me think of that.  There is a reservoir of water, clear and sweet, with which they have had connection, and are supposed still to have.  But when some thirsty body comes up for a bit of refreshment, there’s some sputtering, some noise, may be a few stray drops—­but no more.  And folks seem thirstier because they were expecting a cool, satisfying drink that never came.

I think I know why it is so.  The secret connection with the reservoir has been tampered with.  There must be the secret contact with Jesus cultivated habitually if there is to be a sweet, strong outer life.  And not cultivated by hothouse methods.  Such plants won’t stand the chilly air outside the glass-house.  Cultivated by natural, simple contact with Jesus, over His Word, habitually, until everything comes under the influence of that secret life.

One day a man was standing on a busy downtown thoroughfare in Cleveland waiting for a car.  There was a thick, dirty wire hanging down from the cross arm high up of the wire pole.  He happened to stop there.  And absorbed in thought, he mechanically put out his hand and took hold of the wire.  Instantly a look of intense agony came into his face.  His arm, and whole body began twisting and writhing.  Then he fell to the ground lifeless.  The dirty-looking wire had direct connections with the power-house.  It was throbbing with a strong current.  It was a “live” wire.

Some men who have seemed quite unattractive in the light of some modern standards have been found on touch to be charged with a life current of tremendous power.  And some others, outwardly more attractive, have been found to be as powerless as a dead wire.  And some there have been, and are, very winsome and attractive in themselves, and charged with the life current too.  The great thing is the secret connections carefully maintained with the source of power.

There must be the closest kind of touch with God if His plan through us for a planet is to carry out.  We do not run on the storage battery plan, but on the trolley plan, or the third rail.  There must be constant full touch with the feed wire or rail.  And that “must” should be spelled in capitals, and printed in red, and triply underscored.

A man must plan for the bit of quiet time daily, preferably in the early morning, alone with Jesus; with the door shut, the Book open, the spirit quiet, the mind alert, the knee bent, the will bent too.  If it be resolutely planned for it can be gotten in every life.  If not planned for with a bit of red iron in the will, it will surely slip out.  And the man will surely slip down.