Category Archives: Teaching Illustrations

Youth Illustrations: Ken’s favorite Quotes, Anecdotes, Real-Life Events, Modern Parables, Sermon Illustrations, Jokes, Humor and other stories to add a little punch to your Bible Studies, Sermons, Youth Ministry talks and Children’s sermons.

Love and Time

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love.

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.

When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, “Richness, can you take me with you?”
Richness answered, “No, I can’t. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you.”

Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. “Vanity, please help me!”
“I can’t help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat,” Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked, “Sadness, let me go with you.”
“Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!”

Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.

Suddenly, there was a voice, “Come, Love, I will take you.” It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way.

Realizing how much was owed the elder, Love asked Knowledge, another elder, “Who Helped me?”
“It was Time,” Knowledge answered.
“Time?” asked Love. “But why did Time help me?”

Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, “Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is.”

 


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Rose Within

We often associate roses with love. But the rose is also a reminder that all of us are worthy of live, in spite of the thorns.

A certain man planted a rose and watered it faithfully and before it blossomed, he examined it.

He saw the bud that would soon blossom, but noticed thorns upon the stem and he thought, “How can any beautiful flower come from a plant burdened with so many sharp thorns? Saddened by this thought, he neglected to water the rose, and just before it was ready to bloom… it died.

So it is with many people. Within every soul there is a rose. The God-like qualities planted in us at birth, grow amid the thorns of our faults. Many of us look at ourselves and see only the thorns, the defects.

We despair, thinking that nothing good can possibly come from us. We neglect to water the good within us, and eventually it dies. We never realize our potential.

Some people do not see the rose within themselves; someone else must show it to them. One of the greatest gifts a person can possess is to be able to reach past the thorns of another, and find the rose within them.

This is one of the characteristic of love… to look at a person, know their true faults and accepting that person into your life… all the while recognizing the nobility in their soul. Help others to realize they can overcome their faults. If we show them the “rose” within themselves, they will conquer their thorns. Only then will they blossom many times over.


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Cleaning House

Last Week I threw out Worrying, it was getting old and in the way. It kept me from being me; I couldn’t do things God’s way.

I threw out those Inhibitions; they were just crowding me out. Made room for my New Growth, got rid of my old dreams and doubts.

I threw out a book on MY PAST (didn’t have time to read it anyway). Replaced it with New Goals, started reading it today.

I threw out hate and bad memories, (remember how I treasured them so)? Got me a NEW PHILOSOPHY too, threw out the one from long ago.

Brought in some new books too, called I CAN, I WILL, and I MUST. Threw out I might, I think and I ought. WOW, You should’ve seen the dust.

I ran across an OLD FRIEND, haven’t seen him in a while. I believe his name is GOD, Yes, I really like His style.

He helped me to do some cleaning and added some things Himself. Like PRAYER, HOPE and FAITH, Yes I placed them right on the shelf.

I picked up this special thing and placed it at the front door. I FOUND IT – its called PEACE. Nothing gets me down anymore.

Yes, I’ve got my house looking nice. Looks good around the place. For things like Worry and Trouble there just isn’t any place.

Its good to do a little house cleaning, get rid of the old things on the shelf. It sure makes things brighter; maybe you should TRY IT YOURSELF. This is a start of my “NEW BEGINNING”

Author Unknown


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Sand & Stone

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand: “TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE.”

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone: “TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE.”

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, “After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?” The other friend replied: “When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it.”


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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The Parable of the Pencil

The Parable of the Pencil – Part 1

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box. “There are 5 things you need to know,” he told the pencil, “Before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.

“One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone’s hand.

“Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you’ll need it to become a better pencil.

“Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.

“Four: The most important part of you will always be what’s inside.

“And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition you must continue to write.”

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in his heart.
The Parable of the Pencil – Part 2

But now the pencil lay on the dark wood table, feeling insignificant and rather sad.
Beside him on the desk was a colourful tin can, filled with every kind of beautiful pen to be had.

There were silver fountain pens and a neon felt tip marker.
There was also a classy ballpoint whom everyone called Parker.

“What a loser,” they said of the pencil, as they observed his wooden frame.
“Don’t bother with him, he’s a nobody,” said Parker, “He doesn’t even have a name.”

Now the world was at war and their owner was a Soldier who was tasked to bring peace to the land.
“What we need is a map,” the Soldier had said, at the desk across from his Officer the other night.

“If someone can fly me over the city unseen, I can draw a map from the sky.
The map will tell you where to go and how to win, and soon we’ll put an end to this fight.”

The Officer had agreed and now the Soldier would fly, but first he discussed with his wife.
“I’ll need something to draw with, something dependable… something that won’t fail me mid-flight.”

The Soldier looked at his dark wood desk, and observed all the pens in the can.
He studied each one, their bodies all shimmering, and he weighed them all in his hand.

“This one won’t work,” he said of a pen, “the ink might blot on the map.
This one needs to be refilled every few hours, and this one will dry out without a cap.”

He looked at each one and always found something wrong, or anticipated problems if he used it in the sky.
“I need something that would work whatever the conditions, and I need it soon my dear wife.”

“Then take this pencil.” his wife finally said, handing him the frail and battered yellow thing.
“It will write no matter what, it will write on a plane – it’s the best writing tool you can bring.”

The Soldier smiled, kept the pencil in his pocket, and took it with him on the plane.
He finished the map and the map helped bring them peace… and the pencil has never been the same.
The Parable of the Pencil – Part 3

The pencil was now nothing more than a stub; what was left of his lead was now broken.
His eraser was gone, his wood frame had split, and some time ago his metal ring had been stolen.

Now he stood before the Pencil Maker, and waited for him to say those 5 words.
“Well done, my faithful pencil,” the Pencil Maker said, “You have written what you were meant to write in the world.”


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Christian Team

If you watch each play of a football game, you will see 22 men each doing a specific task to accomplish a goal. If any one man does not perform his task, the whole play can be ruined. If the wide receiver cuts right instead of left, the quarterback’s throw might be intercepted or he might get in the way of one of his teammates. If an offensive lineman doesn’t block his defensive man, the quarterback is likely to be dead meat. Each person.’s task, though it may seem insignificant to him, is important. Each team member is responsible for the play and shares in its success or failure. Each player has certain characteristics that qualify him for his position and enable him to accomplish his task. The center is quick and powerful, which gives him the ability to snap the ball to the quarterback and block his defensive man at the same time. The wide receiver is fast and has “good hands” which enable him to get open and catch passes thrown his direction. The quarterback has good peripheral vision and a strong arm which enables him to spot receivers and get the ball to them, while avoiding the defense. The different capabilities of the players work together as a successful team.

In the same way, in the body of Christ,
1) each Christian has a specific task
2) each Christian has skills that enable him to accomplish his task
3) a successful church results when each person performs his tasks

Football Trivia

It takes 3,000 cows to supply the NFL with enough leather for a year’s supply of footballs.

The “huddle” in football was formed due to a deaf football player who used sign language to communicate and his team didn’t want the opposition to see the signals he used and in turn huddled around him.

 

The Father’s Eyes

Bob Richards, the former pole-vault champion, shares a moving story about a skinny young boy who loved football with all his heart.

Practice after practice, he eagerly gave everything he had. But being half the size of the other boys, he got absolutely nowhere.

At all the games, this hopeful athlete sat on the bench and hardly ever played.

This teenager lived alone with his father, and the two of them had a very special relationship. Even though the son was always on the bench, his father was always in the stands cheering. He never missed a game. This young man was still the smallest of the class when he entered high school. But his father continued to encourage him, but also made it very clear that he did not have to play football if he didn’t want to. But the young man loved football, and decided to hang in there.

He was determined to try his best at every practice, and perhaps he’d get to play when he became a senior. All through high school he never missed a practice nor a game, but remained a bench-warmer all four years.

His faithful father was always in the stands, always with words of encouragement for him.

When the young man went to college, he decided to try out for the football team as a “walk-on.” Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did.

The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always put his heart and soul to every practice, and at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed.

The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent season tickets for all the college games. This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in a game. It was the
end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big playoff game, the coach met him with a telegram.

The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent. Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, “My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?” The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, “Take the rest of the week off, son. And don’t even plan to come back to the game on Saturday.”

Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room, put on his football gear, and as he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon. “Coach, please let me play. I’ve just got to play today,” said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his worst player in this close playoff game.

But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in.
“All right,” he said. “You can go in.”

Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked, and tackled like a star. His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you never heard.

Finally, after the stands had emptied, and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that this young man was sitting quietly in the corner, all alone. The coach came to him and said, “Kid, I can’t believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you?

How did you do it?”

He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, “Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?” The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, “Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!”

Like the athlete’s father, God is always there cheering for us. He’s always reminding us to go on. He’s even offering us His hand for He knows what is best, and is willing to give us what we need and not simply what we want.

God has never missed a single game. What a joy to know that life is meaningful if lived for the Highest. Live for HIM, for He’s watching us in the game of life!

 


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Burdens into Bridges

An ant was seen carrying a piece of straw much larger than he was. Upon seeing this, the man thought, “How interesting that the little ant can carry something so much larger than himself.” So he watched the ant in fascination.

As he watched the ant, the ant came to a crevice in the ground. The crevice was too big for him to go down into and it was to wide to cross.

The ant took the straw. Laid the straw down over the crevice. Walked across the straw and then picked up the straw and went on his way.

The man thought to himself, “The ant turned his burden into a bridge.
That’s what God wants us to do with our burdens!

Lincoln’s Barrel

On the front porch of his little country store in Illinois, Abraham Lincoln and Berry, his partner, stood. Business was all gone, and Berry asked, “How much longer can we keep this going?” Lincoln answered, “It looks as if our business has just about winked out.”

Then he continued, “You know, I wouldn’t mind so much if I could just do what I want to do. I want to study law. I wouldn’t mind so much if we could sell everything we’ve got and pay all our bills and have just enough left over to buy one book–Blackstone’s Commentary on English Law, but I guess I can’t.”

A strange-looking wagon was coming up the road. The driver angled it up close to the store porch, then looked at Lincoln and said, “I’m trying to move my family out west, and I’m out of money. I’ve got a good barrel here that I could sell for fifty cents.”

Abraham Lincoln’s eyes went along the wagon and came to the wife looking at him pleadingly, face thin and emaciated. Lincoln ran his hand into his pocket and took out, according to him, “the last fifty cents I had” and said, “I reckon I could use a good barrel.”

All day long the barrel sat on the porch of that store. Berry kept chiding Lincoln about it. Late in the evening Lincoln walked out and looked down into the barrel. He saw something in the bottom of it, papers that he hadn’t noticed before.

His long arms went down into the barrel and, as he fumbled around, he hit something solid. He pulled out a book and stood petrified: it was Blackstone’s Commentary on English Law. Lincoln later wrote, “I stood there holding the book and looking up toward the heavens.

There came a deep impression on me that God had something for me to do and He was showing he now that I had to get ready for it. Why this miracle otherwise?”

Source Unknown

 


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Frogs

A group of frogs were traveling through the woods, and two of them fell into a deep pit. All the other frogs gathered around the pit. When they saw how deep the pit was, they told the two frogs that they were as good as dead.

The two frogs ignored the comments and tried to jump up out of the pit with all of their might. The other frogs kept telling them to stop, that they were as good as dead. Finally, one of the frogs took heed to what the other frogs were saying and gave up. He fell down and died. The other frog continued to jump as hard as he could. Once again, the crowd of frogs yelled at him to stop the pain and just die. He jumped even harder and finally made
it out.

When he got out, the other frogs said, “Did you not hear us?” The frog explained to them that he was deaf. He thought they were encouraging him the entire time.

This story teaches two lessons:

  1. There is power of life and death in the tongue. An encouraging word to someone who is down can lift them up and help them make it through the day.
  2. A destructive word to someone who is down can be what it takes to kill them. Be careful of what you say. Speak life to those who cross your path.

 

The power of words….it is sometimes hard to understand that an encouraging word can go such a long way. Anyone can speak words that tend to rob another of the spirit to continue in difficult times. Special is the individual who will take the time to encourage another. Be Special to others.


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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Building a House

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his boss of his plans to leave his job and live a more leisurely life with his wife and family. He would miss the paycheck, but they could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see such a worker go, so he asked the carpenter to build just one more house as a personal favor.

The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. The house was not up to his usual standards. It was an unfortunate way to end a dedicated career.

When the carpenter finished his work, the contractor came by, but instead of inspecting the house, he handed the carpenter the front door key and said, “This is your house,” he said. “It is my gift to you.”

The carpenter was shocked! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently.

So it is with us. We build our lives, a day at a time, often putting less than our best into the building. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built.

If we could do it over, we’d do it much differently. But we cannot go back…

You are the carpenter of your life. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall.

Your attitudes and the choices you make today build your “house” for tomorrow… It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, build wisely!


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

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The Legend of the First Christmas Tree

On the night of the Baby Jesus’ birth, all the living creatures of the world, both plants and animals, came to Bethlehem with gifts. The olive tree brought olives and the palm tree brought dates. But the little fir tree had no gift. The small little fir tree was so tired that the big trees pushed it out of the way and hid it from the baby Jesus.

Then a nearby angel took felt sorry for the little fir tree and took pity on it. The angel commanded a group of stars to come from the sky above and light the branches of the small tree. When the Baby Jesus saw this beautiful lighted tree, He smiled and blessed it. They he declared that from then on, fir trees should always be filled decorated with lights at Christmastime.

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Fun Christmas Facts: Christmas Lights

christmas_lightbulbs.jpgCandles were used on Christmas trees until Edward Johnson, an associate of Thomas Edison, first put electric lights on his own Christmas tree in 1882.

 

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Christmas Alphabet

christmas_wisemen.jpgA Christmas Alphabet

A is for Angels, appearing so bright, telling of Jesus that first Christmas night.
“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host.” Luke 2:13.

B is for Bethlehem, crowded and old, birthplace of Jesus by prophet foretold.
“But thou, Bethlehem Ephratah, out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be ruler in Israel.” Micah 5:2.

C is for Cattle, their manger His bed, there in the trough where He laid His head.
“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger.” Luke 2:7.

D is for David and his ancient throne promised forever to Jesus alone.
“He shall be great, and shall be called the Son of the Highest; and the Lord God shall give unto him the throne of his father David.” Luke 1:32.

E is for East, where shone the bright star which Magi on camels followed afar.
“Behold, there came wise men from the east asking ‘Where is the king of the Jews?'” Matthew 2:1,2.

F is for Frankincense, with myrrh and gold, brought by the Wise Men as Matthew has told.
“And when they had opened their treasurers, they presented unto him gifts gold, frankincense, and myrrh.” Matthew 2:11.

G is for God, who from heaven above sent down to mankind the Son of His love.
“For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in him should not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16.

H is for Herod, whose murderous scheme was told to Joseph in a nocturnal dream.
“The angel of the Lord appeared to Joseph in a dream, saying, Arise and take the young child and his mother and flee into Egypt… for Herod will seek the young child to destroy him.” Matthew 2:13.

I is for Immanuel, “God with us,” for Christ brought man back to the Father’s house.
“Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.” Isaiah 7:14.

J is for Joseph so noble and just, obeying God’s word with absolute trust.
“Then Joseph being raised from sleep did as the angel of the Lord had bidden him, and took unto him his wife.” Matthew 1:24.

K is for King. A true king He would be, coming in power and authority.
“Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion; shout, O daughter of Jerusalem; behold, the King cometh unto thee; he is just, and having salvation.” Zechariah 9:9.

L is for Love that He brought down to earth God enfleshed in lowly birth.
“In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him.” 1 John 4:9.

M is for Mary, His mother so brave, counting God faithful and mighty to save.
“And Mary said, Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.” Luke 1:38.

N is for Night, when the Savior was born for nations of earth and people forlorn.
“And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night.” Luke 2:8.

O is for Omega, meaning “the last;” He’s eternal present, future and past.
“I am the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end, the first and the last.” Revelation 22:13.

P is for Prophets, when living on earth foretold His redemption and blessed birth.
“I see him, but not now; I behold him, but not near. A star will come out of Jacob; a sceptre will rise out of Israel.” Numbers 24:17.

Q is for Quickly, as shepherds who heard hastened to act on that heavenly word.
“And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger.” Luke 2:16.

R is for Rejoice. The sorrow of sin is banished forever when Jesus comes in.
“And you will have joy and gladness; and many will rejoice at his birth.” Luke 1:14.

S is for Savior. To be this He came; the angel of God assigned Him His name.
“She will bring forth a son, and you will call his name JESUS, for he will save his people from their sins.” Matthew 1:21.

T is for Tidings of joy, not of danger, telling of Him who was laid in a manger.
“And the angel said unto them, Fear not for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.” Luke 2:10.

U is for Us, to whom Jesus was given to show us the way and take us to heaven.
“For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior, which is Christ the Lord.” Luke 2:11.

V is for Virgin, foretold by the sage, God’s revelation on prophecy’s page.
“Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a Son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.” Matthew 1:23.

W is for Wonderful, His works and His words, the King of all Kings, the Lord of all Lords.
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given… and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.” Isaiah 9:6.

X is for Christ. It’s X in the Greek, Anointed, Messiah, mighty, yet meek.
“God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power.” Acts 10:38.

Y is for Yes, called God’s Yes in His Word; God’s answer to all is Jesus the Lord.
“For all the promises of God in him are yea, and in him Amen, unto the glory of God by us.” 2 Corinthians 1:20.

Z is for Zeal as it burned in Christ’s heart. Lord, by thy Spirit to us zeal impart.
“And his disciples remembered that it was written, the zeal of your house has eaten me up.” John 2:1.

Source Unknown

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Games and Activities helping youth discover the Reason for the Season.

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A Single Color

Wouldn’t it be terrible? Wouldn’t it be sad?
If just one single color was the color that we had?
If everything was purple? Or red? Or blue? Or green?
If yellow, pink, or orange was all that could be seen?
Can you just imagine how dull world would be
If just one single color was all we got to see
?

A Cowboy’s Christmas Prayer

I ain’t much good at prayin’, and You may not know me, Lord
I ain’t much seen in churches where they preach Thy Holy Word.
But You may have observed me out here on the lonely plains.
A-lookin’ after cattle, feelin’ thankful when it rains.
Admirin’ Thy great handiwork, the miracle of grass.
Aware of Thy kind spirit in the way it comes to pass
That hired men on horseback and the livestock that we tend
Can look up at the stars at night and know we’ve got a Friend.

So here’s ol’ Christmas comin’ on, remindin’ us again
Of Him whose coming brought good will into the hearts off men.
A cowboy ain’t no preacher, Lord, but if You’ll hear my prayer.
I’ll ask as good as we have got for all men everywhere.
Don’t let no hearts be bitter, Lord: don’t let no child be cold.
Make easy beds for them that’s sick, and them that’s weak and old.
Let kindness bless the trail we ride, no matter what we’re after.
And sorter keep us on Your side, in tears as well as laughter.

I’ve seen old cows a-starvin’, and it ain’t no happy sight:
Please don’t leave no one hungry, Lord, on Thy, good Christmas night
No man. no child, no woman, and no critter on four feet
I’ll aim to do my best to help You find ’em chuck to eat.

I’m just a sinful cowpoke, Lord ain’t got no business prayin’
But still I hope You’ll ketch a word or two of what I’m sayin
We speak of Merry Christmas. Lord- I reckon You’ll agree
There ain’t no Merry Christmas for nobody that ain’t free.
So one more thing I’ll ask You. Lord: just help us what You can
To save some seeds of freedom for the future sons of man!

S. Omar Barker
Source Unknown

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Why Evergreen Trees Never Lose Their Leaves

christmas_tree.jpgA Christmas Legend

Winter was coming, and the birds had flown far to the south, where the air was warm and they could find berries to eat. Yet one little bird sat alone. It had broken its wing and could not fly to warmer weather with the others.

“Beautiful birch, may I live among your branches till spring?” it asked.
“We of the great forest only help our own. I can do nothing for you.” said the birch.

“Great oak, you are so strong, will you not let me live on your boughs till springtime?” “Springtime?” questioned the oak. “That is a long time. Birds are always looking for something to eat, and you might eat up some of my acorns.”

Its wing was not yet strong, but it in desperation it began to fly away as well as it could.

Before it had gone far a voice was heard.
“Little bird,” it said, “where are you going?”
“Indeed, I do not know,” answered the bird sadly.

“Come here, then,” said the spruce tree, for it was her voice that had called. “You shall live on my warmest branch all winter if you choose. I haven’t food, but here is the branch where my leaves are thickest and softest.”

“My branches are not very thick,” said the pine, “but I am big and strong, and I can keep the North Wind from you and the spruce.”

A small juniper tree was hardly of notice. “I can give you berries all winter long, and every bird knows that juniper berries are good.”

So the spruce gave the little bird a home; the pine kept the cold North Wind away; and the juniper gave it berries to eat.

The other trees looked on and talked together.
“I would not have strange birds on my boughs,” said the birch.
“I shall not give my acorns away for any one,” said the oak.
And the trees drew their leaves close about them.

In the morning all those leaves lay on the ground, for a cold North Wind had come in the night, and every leaf that it touched fell from the tree.

“May I touch every leaf in the forest?” asked the wind in its frolic.

“Yes,” said the Frost King. “But spare those trees that have given to one in need. For they will always have life in abundance.”

“The King will reply, ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.’”
– Matthew 25:40

Copyright 2005 by Ken Sapp

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William Bradford on Thanksgiving

William Bradford was governor of the Plymouth colony at the first American thanksgiving in 1621.

He wrote the following in “Of Plimoth Plantation”

“They begane now to gather in ye small harvest they had, and to fitte up their houses and dwellings against winter, being all well recovered in health & strenght, and had all things in good plenty; fFor as some were thus imployed in affairs abroad, others were excersised in fishing, aboute codd, & bass, & other fish, of which yey tooke good store, of which every family had their portion. All ye somer ther was no want. And now begane to come in store of foule, as winter approached, of which this place did abound when they came first (but afterward decreased by degrees). And besids water foule, ther was great store of wild Turkies, of which they tooke many, besids venison, &c. Besids, they had about a peck a meale a weeke to a person, or now since harvest, Indean corn to yt proportion. Which made many afterwards write so largly of their plenty hear to their freinds in England, which were not fained, but true reports.”

More Thanksgiving Quotes

 

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Leftovers

Lord, don’t let my attitude of gratitude be like leftover turkey. I don’t want to give you “recycled” thanks like turkey soup or turkey casserole. I don’t want to say the same old words without thinking, like turkey burgers or turkey salad. May I never pull cold words out of a freezer. May each day be a new day of thankfulness. May each day be a “holyday” to gather with family and friends–in thought and prayer. You said that Your mercies are new every morning. May my thankfulness be fresh and new and warm every morning, too. May I daily choose the ingredients of my thankfulness and spend as much time in preparation as carefully as I chose the ingredients and prepared the special dishes. May my thankfulness be a pleasing aroma to You, like the enticing odors of a Thanksgiving dinner.

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Be Thankful for

  • The mess to clean after a party because it means I have been surrounded by friends.
  • The taxes I pay because it means that I’m employed.
  • The clothes that fit a little too snug because it means I have enough to eat.
  • My shadow who watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine.
  • A lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home.
  • All the complaining I hear about our government because it means we have freedom of speech.
  • The space I find at the far end of the parking lot because it means I am capable of walking.
  • My huge heating bill because it means I am warm.
  • The lady behind me in church who sings off key because it means that I can hear.
  • The piles of laundry and ironing because it means I have clothes to wear.
  • Weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because it means I have been productive.
  • The alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means that I’m alive.
  • Getting too much email bogs me down but at least I know I have friends who are thinking of me.

Author Unknown

Be Thankful

Be thankful that you don’t already have everything you desire.
If you did, what would there be to look forward to?
Be thankful when you don’t know something,
for it gives you the opportunity to learn.

Be thankful for the difficult times.
During those times you grow.
Be thankful for your limitations,
because they give you opportunities for improvement.
Be thankful for each new challenge,
because it will build your strength and character.

Be thankful for your mistakes.
They will teach you valuable lessons.
Be thankful when you’re tired and weary,
because it means you’ve made a difference.

It’s easy to be thankful for the good things.
A life of rich fulfillment comes to those
Who are also thankful for the setbacks.
Gratitude can turn a negative into a positive.
Find a way to be thankful for your troubles,
and they can become your blessings.

Author Unknown

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Around the Thanksgiving Table

One Thanksgiving season a family was seated around their table, looking at the annual holiday bird. From the oldest to the youngest, they were to express their praise. When they came to the 5-year-old in the family, he began by looking at the turkey and expressing his thanks to the turkey, saying although he had not tasted it he knew it would be good. After that rather novel expression of thanksgiving, he began with a more predictable line of credits, thanking his mother for cooking the turkey and his father for buying the turkey. But then he went beyond that. He joined together a whole hidden multitude of benefactors, linking them with cause and effect.

He said, “I thank you for the checker at the grocery store who checked out the turkey. I thank you for the grocery store people who put it on the shelf. I thank you for the farmer who made it fat. I thank you for the man who made the feed. I thank you for those who brought the turkey to the store.”

Using his Columbo-like little mind, he traced the turkey all the way from its origin to his plate. And then at the end he solemnly said “Did I leave anybody out?”

His 2-year-older brother, embarrassed by all those proceedings, said, “God.”

Solemnly and without being flustered at all, the 5-year-old said, “I was about to get to him.”

Well, isn’t that the question about which we ought to think at Thanksgiving time? Are we really going to get to him this Thanksgiving?

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Samuel Adams – Thanksgiving Proclamation

samuel_adams.jpg
“That all the People may with united Hearts on that Day express a just Sense of His unmerited Favors:
–Particularly in that it hath pleased Him, by His over ruling Providence to support us in a just and necessary War for the Defense of our Rights and Liberties;
…by defeating the Councils and evil Designs of our Enemies, and giving us Victory over their Troops
–and by the Continuance of that Union among these States, which by his Blessing, will be their future Strength & Glory.”

Samuel Adams on behalf of the Continental Congress, November 3, 1778, calling for a day of Thanksgiving during the Revolutionary War of the future “United States of America”

More Thanksgiving Quotes

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When Jesus Looks

reflection.jpgWhen Jesus looks upon my life,
What picture does He see?
Does He see His own reflection,
Or does He just see me?

Does He see His likeness,
The product of His hand.
Or just another Christian,
Who never took a stand?

Does He see a child of God,
A child that He set free?
Living life to honor Him,
Or does He just see me?

What about the other folks,
I meet along the way.
Do I show them Jesus,
To brighten up their day?

When someone looks into my eyes,
Can they truly see.
That calm and gentle peace of God,
That dwells inside of me

When I reach out and shake a hand,
Is He right there in my grip?
Can they feel that strength from God,
That steadies when I slip?

When folks are in my presence,
Do they know His Spirit’s there?
Can they see that He’s the one,
Who guides me everywhere

When other people think of me,
What is on their mind?
Do they think of Jesus Christ,
So gentle and so kind?

I try to be like Jesus,
Every single day.
Spreading love and kindness,
All along my way.

I’m afraid that I have failed,
I could not pass the test.
Deep inside my heart I know,
I haven’t done my best.

I have had to fight my flesh,
Since the day that I was born.
It’s always causing trouble,
And being such a thorn.

That’s why His Spirit dwells in me,
He’s helping me to learn.
In every situation,
Where I need to turn.

He knew I’d never pass the test,
That’s why He took my place.
He gave His life to save my soul,
He suffered my disgrace.

Now I try to be like Him,
I must present Him well.
So other folks will want His gift,
And turn their backs on hell.

Other folks should see the joy,
That Christ has given me.
They should want to have it too,
Especially since it’s free.

They should begin to ask me,
What is it they must do.
Just how it is they go about,
Getting Jesus too.

Then I get to tell them,
This wondrous gift is free.
It only takes a humble heart,
A prayer on bended knee.

Someday when I’m face to face,
With the Lord who set me free.
Will He see His own reflection,
Or will He just see me?

Author: Chick Velasco

 


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A Matter of Comparison

The nine foot 400 lb Goliath challenged the children of Israel and blasphemed Almighty God. David, a 17 year old fuzzy-checked lad who came to visit his brothers demanded to know why they weren’t accepting the challenge.

The brothers explained that you could easily get hurt by fighting fellows like Goliath. They felt certain Goliath was just too big to hit. David knew that Goliath was too big to miss with God’s help.

Next David wanted to know where the king was and his brothers explained that the King didn’t feel so good. When David told the brothers he would fight Goliath they figured he was crazy.

Obviously, the brothers were comparing their size to Goliath’s, and that made nine foot Goliath petty big. David was comparing Goliath’s size to God, and that quite obviously made Goliath petty small.

-Zig Ziglar


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Worry

Death was walking toward a city one morning and a man asked, “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to take 100 people,” Death replied. “That’s horrible!” the man said. “That’s the way it is,” Death said. “That’s what I do. “The man hurried to warn everyone he could about Death’s plan. As evening fell, he met Death again. “You told me you were going to take 100 people, “the man said. “Why did 1,000 die?” “I kept my word,” Death responded. “I only took 100 people. Worry took the others
.

Every Moment is Precious

dates.jpgTo realise the value of ONE YEAR
Ask a student who has failed his exam.

To realise the value of ONE MONTH
Ask a mother who has given birth to a pre-mature baby.

To realise the value of ONE WEEK
Ask an editor of a weekly.

To realise the value of ONE DAY
Ask a daily wage labour.

To realise the value of ONE HOUR
Ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.

To realise the value of ONE MINUTE
Ask a person who has missed the train.

To realise the value of ONE SECOND
Ask a person who has survived an accident.

To realise the value of ONE MILLI-SECOND
Ask the person who has won a silver medal in Olympics.

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You Can Trust Him

He is unparalleled and unprecedented.
He is the centerpiece of civilization.
He is the superlative of all excellence.
He is the sum of human greatness.
He is the source of divine grace.
His name is the only one able to save,
and his blood is the only power able to cleanse.
His ear is open to the sinner’s call.
His hand is quick to lift the fallen soul.
He’s the eternal lover of us all – every one,
And you can trust Him.

He supplies mercy for the struggling soul.
He sustains the tempted and the tried.
He sympathizes with the wounded and broken.
He strengthens the weak and the weary.
He guards and He guides the wanderer.
He heals the sick and cleanses the leper.
He delivers the captive and defends the helpless,
and he binds up the broken-hearted.
He’s for you … and you can trust Him.

Jesus is the key to all knowledge.
He’s the wellspring of wisdom.
He’s the doorway of deliverance,
and He’s the pathway of peace.
He’s the roadway of righteousness.
He’s the highway of holiness.
He’s the gateway to glory,
And yes-you can trust Him.

Jesus IS enough … He’s the all sufficient KING…
He’s the King of the Jews.
He’s the King of Israel.
He’s the King of Righteousness and He’s the King of the Ages.
He’s the King of Heaven.
He’s the King of Glory.
He’s the King of kings and He’s the Lord of lords.
And “yes” again, you can trust Him.

And rejoice in this, my friend … He is a Sovereign King.
There is no gauge to measure His limitless love.
There is no barrier to block His blessings outpoured.
He is enduringly strong and He is entirely supreme.
He is eternally steadfast. He is immortally faithful.
He is imperially powerful and He is impartially merciful.
He is Jesus-God’s Son-and you can trust Him.

I wish I could more accurately describe Him to you; but
He’s indescribable. He’s incomprehensible.
He’s invincible. He’s irresistible.

You can’t outlive Him and you can’t live without Him.’
The Pharisees couldn’t stand Him, but they found they couldn’t stop Him.
Pilate couldn’t fault Him. Herod couldn’t kill Him.
Death couldn’t conquer Him
and the grave couldn’t hold Him!

My friends…
He’s the Alpha and Omega, the first and the lost.
He’s the God of the future and the God of the past.
And we rise to speak His Name again and again … Jesus … Jesus
He is Jesus … He is for us … and WE CAN TRUST HIM!

Inspired by a prayer spontaneously offered by the late Dr. S.M. Lockridge

 


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More Important than basketball

A reporter once asked legendary U.C.L.A. basketball coach John Wooden who led his team to 7 consecutive national Championships he was able to remain so calm admidst all the pressure of the game?

Coach Wooden with a grin on face replied, “Well I carry a cross in my pocket. And when things get difficult and crazy in a game I reach into my pocket and feel that cross, and it reminds me that there is something much more important than basketball…”

In God All the Time

When H. B. Macartney, an Australian pastor, visited Hudson Taylor in China, he was amazed at the missionary’s serenity in spite of his many burdens and his busy schedule. Macartney finally mustered up the courage to say, “You are occupied with millions, I with tens. Your letters are pressingly important, mine of comparatively little value. Yet I am worried and distressed while you are always calm. Tell me, what makes the difference?” Taylor replied, “I could not possibly get through the work I have to do without the peace of God which passes all understanding keeping my heart and mind.”

Macartney later wrote, “He was in God all the time, and God was in him. It was the true abiding spoken of in John 15.”

 

The Father’s Eyes

Bob Richards, the former pole-vault champion, shares a moving story about a skinny young boy who loved football with all his heart.

Practice after practice, he eagerly gave everything he had. But being half the size of the other boys, he got absolutely nowhere.

At all the games, this hopeful athlete sat on the bench and hardly ever played.

This teenager lived alone with his father, and the two of them had a very special relationship. Even though the son was always on the bench, his father was always in the stands cheering. He never missed a game. This young man was still the smallest of the class when he entered high school. But his father continued to encourage him, but also made it very clear that he did not have to play football if he didn’t want to. But the young man loved football, and decided to hang in there.

He was determined to try his best at every practice, and perhaps he’d get to play when he became a senior. All through high school he never missed a practice nor a game, but remained a bench-warmer all four years. His faithful father was always in the stands, always with words of encouragement for him.

When the young man went to college, he decided to try out for the football team as a “walk-on.” Everyone was sure he could never make the cut, but he did. The coach admitted that he kept him on the roster because he always put his heart and soul to every practice, and at the same time, provided the other members with the spirit and hustle they badly needed.

The news that he had survived the cut thrilled him so much that he rushed to the nearest phone and called his father. His father shared his excitement and was sent season tickets for all the college games. This persistent young athlete never missed practice during his four years at college, but he never got to play in a game. It was the end of his senior football season, and as he trotted onto the practice field shortly before the big playoff game, the coach met him with a telegram.

The young man read the telegram and he became deathly silent. Swallowing hard, he mumbled to the coach, “My father died this morning. Is it all right if I miss practice today?” The coach put his arm gently around his shoulder and said, “Take the rest of the week off, son. And don’t even plan to come back to the game on Saturday.”

Saturday arrived, and the game was not going well. In the third quarter, when the team was ten points behind, a silent young man quietly slipped into the empty locker room, put on his football gear, and as he ran onto the sidelines, the coach and his players were astounded to see their faithful teammate back so soon. “Coach, please let me play. I’ve just got to play today,” said the young man. The coach pretended not to hear him. There was no way he wanted his worst player in this close playoff game.

But the young man persisted, and finally feeling sorry for the kid, the coach gave in. “All right,” he said. “You can go in.”

Before long, the coach, the players and everyone in the stands could not believe their eyes. This little unknown, who had never played before was doing everything right. The opposing team could not stop him. He ran, he passed, blocked, and tackled like a star.

His team began to triumph. The score was soon tied. In the closing seconds of the game, this kid intercepted a pass and ran all the way for the winning touchdown. The fans broke loose. His teammates hoisted him onto their shoulders. Such cheering you never heard.

Finally, after the stands had emptied, and the team had showered and left the locker room, the coach noticed that this young man was sitting quietly in the corner, all alone. The coach came to him and said, “Kid, I can’t believe it. You were fantastic! Tell me what got into you? How did you do it?”

He looked at the coach, with tears in his eyes, and said, “Well, you knew my dad died, but did you know that my dad was blind?” The young man swallowed hard and forced a smile, “Dad came to all my games, but today was the first time he could see me play, and I wanted to show him I could do it!”

Like the athlete’s father, God is always there cheering for us. He’s always reminding us to go on.

His eyes are always on us!

Source: Unknown


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Saved By The Cross

Back before the collapse of communism the government of Poland issued an order that all crucifixes were to be removed from classroom walls, just as they had been banned in factories, hospitals, and other public institutions. Many church leaders protested stirring waves of anger and resentment all across Poland.

Ultimately the government relented, insisting that the law remain on the books, but agreeing not to press for the removal of the crucifixes, particularly in the schoolrooms.

But one zealous Communist school administrator decided that the law was the law. So one evening he had seven large crucifixes removed from lecture halls where they had hung since the school’s founding in the twenties. Days later, a group of parents entered the school and hung more crosses. The administrator promptly had these crosses taken down as well.

The next day two-thirds of the school’s six hundred students staged a sit-in. When heavily armed riot police arrived, the students were forced into the streets. Then they marched, crucifixes held high, to a nearby church where they were joined by twenty-five hundred other students from nearby schools for a morning of prayer in support of the protest.

Soldiers surrounded the church. But the pictures from inside of students holding crosses high above their heads flashed around the world. So did the words of the priest who delivered the message to the weeping congregation that morning. “There is no Poland without a cross.”

Charles Colson, “Kingdoms In Conflict”
(Zondervan, ISBN 0-310-39770-7)

 


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The Prayer Stool

I leave aside my shoes
– my ambitions,
undo my watch
– my timetable,
take off my glasses
– my views,
unclip my pen
– my work,
put down my keys
– my security,
to be alone with You,
the only true God.

After being with You,
I take up my shoes
to walk in Your ways,
strap on my watch
to live in Your time,
put on my glasses
to look at Your world,
clip on my pen
to write up your thoughts,
pick up my keys
to open Your doors.

-Graham Kings
Source: Unknown

 


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The King Bearing Us in His Arms

There is a vivid picture of Christ’s sacrifice for sin in Mark Twain’s novel, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court.

The story tells the adventures of an ordinary man (the Connecticut Yankee) from the 19th century, who is transported back to the medieval world of King Arthur. At one point he convinces King Arthur to dress like a peasant and take a journey through his kingdom. The results are generally laughable as the king, completely oblivious to life in the trenches, tries to carry on with all the pomp of the court while those around him simply think he is crazy.

But there is a touching chapter titled “The Smallpox Hut” describing how the king and his companion happen upon a beggar’s hovel. The husband lies dead, and the wife tries to warn them away: “For the fear of God, who visits with misery and death such as be harmless, tarry not here, but fly! This place is under his curse….”

The woman asks the king to go into the loft and check on their child. “It was a desperate place for him to be in, and might cost him his life,” observes the Yankee, “but it was no use to argue with him.”
The king disappears up a ladder looking for the girl.

“There was a slight noise from the direction of the dim corner where the ladder was. It was the king descending. I could see that he was bearing something in one arm, and assisting himself with the other. He came forward into the light; upon his breast lay a slender girl of 15. She was but half conscious; she was dying of smallpox. Here was heroism at its last and loftiest possibility, its utmost summit; this was challenging death in the open field unarmed, with all the odds against the challenger, no reward set upon the contest, and no admiring world in silks and cloth-ofgold to gaze and applaud; and yet the king’s bearing was as serenely brave as it had always been in those cheaper contests where knight meets knight in equal fight and clothed in protecting steel. He was great now; sublimely great. The rude statues of his ancestors in his palace should have an addition-I would see to that; and it would not be a mailed king killing a giant or a dragon, like the rest. It would be a king in commoner’s garb bearing death in his arms.”

There is Jesus on the cross! A king in commoner’s garb bearing sinners in his arms.


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The Crayon Box that Talked

crayons.jpgWhile walking in a toy store,
The day before today……
I overheard a crayon box,
With many things to say.

“I don’t like Red!” said Yellow,
And Green said, “Nor do I!
And no one here likes Orange,
But no one knows just why.”

“We are a box of crayons
That doesn’t get along.”
Said Blue to all the others,
“Something here is wrong!”

Well, I bought that box of crayons,
And took it home with me,
And laid out all the colours
So the crayons could all see….

They watched me as I coloured,
With Red and Blue and Green,
And Black and White and Orange,
And every colour in between.

They watched as Green became the grass
And Blue became the sky.
The Yellow sun was shining bright
On White clouds drifting by.

Colours changing as they touched,
Becoming something new.
They watched me as I coloured.
They watched till I was through.

And when I’d finally finished,
I began to walk away.
And as I did, the crayon box
Had something more to say….

“I do like Red!” said Yellow.
And Green said, “So do I!”
And, Blue, you were terrific,
So high up in the sky!”

“We are a box of crayons,
Each one of us unique.
But when we get together…..
THE PICTURE IS COMPLETE.”

Author: Shane DeRolf
Source: Unknown

 


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The Lonely Ember

A member of a certain church, who previously had been attending services regularly, stopped going. After a few weeks, the pastor decided to visit him. It was a chilly evening. The pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire.

Guessing the reason for his pastor’s visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a big chair near the fireplace and waited. The pastor made himself comfortable but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the play of the flames around the burning logs.

After some minutes, the pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone. Then he sat back in his chair, still silent. The host watched all this in quiet fascination.
As the one lone ember’s flame diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more. Soon it was cold and “dead as a doornail.”

Not a word had been spoken since the initial greeting.

Just before the pastor was ready to leave, he picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Immediately it began to glow once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.

As the pastor reached the door to leave, his host said, “Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon. I shall be back in church next Sunday.”

Author: Dr. John MacArthur

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Working

I asked the Lord, “What shall I do?”
And my love flowed warm and free.
Then He pointed me out a tiny spot
And said, “Tend that for me.”

I quickly relied, “Oh no, not that.
“Why no one would ever see.
“No matter how well my work was done;
“Not that little place for me.”

The word He spoke, It was not stern,
He answered me tenderly;
“Ah, little one, search that heart of thine.
“Are you working for them or me?
“Nazareth was a little place, and so was Galilee.”

 


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Letter From a Friend

I am writing to say how much I care for you
and to say how much I want you to know me better.

When you awoke this morning,
I exploded a brilliant sunrise through your window,
hoping to get your attention,
but you rushed off without even noticing.

Later, I noticed you were walking with some friends,
so I bathed you in warm sunshine
and perfumed the air with nature’s sweet scent,
and still you didn’t notice me.

As you passed by,
I shouted to you in a thunderstorm
and painted a beautiful rainbow in the sky,
and you didn’t even look.

In the evening,
I spilled moonlight onto your face
and sent a cool breeze to rest you.

As you slept,
I watched over you and shared your thoughts,
but you were unaware that I was so near.

I have chosen you and hope you will talk to me soon.
Until then, I remain near.
I am your friend and love you very much.

~Your Friend, Jesus~

 


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God’s Boxes of Love

giftbox.jpgI have in my hands two boxes
Which God gave me to hold
He said, “Put all your sorrows in the black,
And all your joys in the gold.”

I heeded His words, and in the two boxes
Both my joys and sorrows I stored
But though the gold became heavier each day
The black was as light as before

With curiosity, I opened the black
I wanted to find out why
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole
Which my sorrows had fallen out by

I showed the hole to God, and mused aloud,
“I wonder where my sorrows could be.”
He smiled a gentle smile at me.
“My child, they’re all here with me.”

I asked, “God, why give me the boxes,
Why the gold, and the black with the hole?”
“My child, the gold is for you to count your blessings,
the black is for you to let go.”

Author Unknown

 


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Morning Paper

newspaperboy.jpgMany years ago, a newsboy, thinly clad and drenched by the soaking rain, stood shivering in a doorway one cold day in November. First one bare foot and then the other was lifted for a moment and pressed against his leg to get a little warmth. Every few minutes his shrill cry could be heard, “Morning paper! Morning paper!”

A man who was well protected by his coat and umbrella stopped to buy the early edition. Noting the boy’s discomfort, he said, “This kind of weather is pretty hard on you, isn’t it?”

Looking up with a smile, the youngster replied, “I don’t mind too much, Mister. The sun will shine again.”

What a picture of the Christian life! Chilling winds of adversity and grey skies of a sinful environment can easily discourage us. But we can always count on better days because we know God is working in our lives.

The First Requisite for Success

thomas_edison.jpgWhen interviewed by Success Magazine in 1898 Thomas Edison was asked, “What”s the first requisite for success?” And Edison answered this way: “The ability to apply your physical and mental energies to one problem incessantly without growing weary. You do something all day long, don”t you? Everyone does. If you get up at 7 A.M. and go to bed at 11 P.M., you have put in 16 good hours, and it is certain with most men that they have been doing something all the time. The only trouble is that they do it about a great many things and I do it about one. If they took the time in question and applied it in one direction, to one object they would succeed.

Committed to Jesus

russian_flag.jpgBaptists in Russia tell the story about a group of Christians meeting in secret for Bible study in a village near Moscow. Suddenly the door of their meeting room burst open, and there stood two communist soldiers, their rifles with bayonets pointed at the Christians. One of the soldiers said, “We want to be fair about this, so if you are not really committed to this Jesus stuff and you don’t really believe the Bible, we give you a chance to leave. Now get up and go if that’s you.”

All but six of the more than twenty left the room for fear of their lives. Then the soldiers went to each of the two doors that led to the room and locked them. They listened with their ears pressed against the doors for a moment to make sure the insincere ones had gone. Then they took their rifles and leaned them up against the wall and said, “We are Christians too! We just couldn’t take a chance. Let’s study God’s word!”

Author: Bailey Smith
Source: REAL EVANGELISM, p. 140

Wendy’s Gift

sandpiper.jpgShe was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I live. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four miles, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea. “Hello,” she said.
I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
“I’m building,” she said.
“I see that. What is it?” I asked, not caring.
“Oh, I don’t know, I just like the feel of sand.”
That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes.
A sandpiper glided by. “That’s a joy,” the child said.
“It’s a what?”
“It’s a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy.”
The bird went gliding down the beach. “Good-bye joy,” I muttered to myself, “hello pain,” and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance.
“What’s your name?”
She wouldn’t give up. “Robert,” I answered. “I’m Robert Peterson.”
“Mine’s Wendy … I’m six.”
“Hi, Wendy.”
She giggled. “You’re funny,” she said.
In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.
“Come again, Mr. P,” she called. “We’ll have another happy day.”
The days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater. “I need a sandpiper,” I said to myself, gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.
“Hello, Mr. P,” she said. “Do you want to play?”
“What did you have in mind?” I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.
“I don’t know… you say.”
“How about charades?” I asked sarcastically. The tinkling laughter burst forth again.
“I don’t know what that is.”
“Then let’s just walk.” Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face.
“Where do you live?” I asked.
“Over there.” She pointed toward a row of summer cottages. Strange, I thought, in winter. “Where do you go to school?”
“I don’t go to school. Mommy says we’re on vacation.”
She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.
Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. “Look, if you don’t mind,” I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, “I’d rather be alone today.”
She seemed unusually pale and out of breath. “Why?” she asked.
I turned to her and shouted, “Because my mother died!” and thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child?
“Oh,” she said quietly, “then this is a bad day.”
“Yes,” I said, “and yesterday and the day before and — oh, go away!”
“Did it hurt? ‘she inquired.
“Did what hurt?” I was exasperated with her, with myself.
“When she died?”
“Of course it hurt!!!!” I snapped, misunderstanding, wrapped up in myself. I strode off.
A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn’t there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-colored hair opened the door.
“Hello,” I said. “I’m Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I’m afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please, accept my apologies.”
“Not at all-she’s a delightful child,” I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. “Where is she?”
“Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukemia. Maybe she didn’t tell you.”
Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught.
“She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn’t say no. She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly…” her voice faltered. “She left something for you. If only I can find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?”
I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope, with MR. P printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues-a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy’s mother in my arms. “I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” I muttered over and over, and we wept together.
The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my study. Six words — one for each year of her life — that speak to me of harmony, courage, undemanding love. A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the color of sand-who taught me the gift of love.
True story by Robert Peterson. 


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Life’s but a Flash

Life is but a flash in an eternity of time
Controlled by the master’s Perfect design
Easily snuffed out in the blink of an eye
Ours not to question, nor to ask “why”

How much time does my hourglass hold
How much time till I see streets of gold.
I know not the hour, not even the day.
So, what shall I do? What shall I say?

Live each moment like there won’t be another
Sharing God’s love, serving each other
Working the harvest, watering seeds sown
Knowing Gof better and making God known.

Copyright ©1989 by Ken Sapp. All Rights reserved!

 

Tempered

I once heard a story about a startling exhibit in Del Mar, California. A man took a glass beaker which had a small neck, but was enlarged to about seven inches in diameter below the neck. The beaker would hold about a quart. The demonstrator used the glass beaker as a hammer to drive a spike into a wooden plank. The glass was so well tempered that the beaker did not break. The man then took a small steel marble or bearing the size of a pea, and holding it at the neck of the beaker, dropped it inside. When it struck the bottom the glass was shattered and the beaker was broken from within.

The Church of our Lord, when perfectly united and tempered together with love, can resist the heaviest of blows from the outside. But just a small force on the inside can destroy this unity and harmony.

Author Unknown
PULPIT HELPS, Sept., 1990

 

Birdies

Throughout our lives we are blessed with spiritual experiences, some of which are very sacred and confidential, and others, although sacred, are meant to be shared. Last summer my family had a spiritual experience that had a lasting and profound impact on us, one we feel must be shared.

It’s a message of love. It’s a message of regaining perspective, and restoring proper balance and renewing priorities. In humility. I pray that I might, in relating this story, give you a gift my little son, Brian gave our family one summer day last year.

This is proported to be a true story that occurred in 1994 and was told by Lloyd Glen.

Throughout our lives we are blessed with spiritual experiences, some of which are very sacred and confidential, and others, although sacred, are meant to be shared. Last summer my family had a spiritual experience that had a lasting and profound impact on us, one we feel must be shared.

It’s a message of love. It’s a message of regaining perspective, and restoring proper balance and renewing priorities. In humility. I pray that I might, in relating this story, give you a gift my little son, Brian gave our family one summer day last year.

On July 22nd I was en route to Washington DC for a business trip. It was all so very ordinary, until we landed in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the overhead bin, an announcement was made for Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative immediately. I thought nothing of it until I reached the door to leave the plane and I heard a gentleman asking every male if they were Mr. Glenn. At this point I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk.

When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me and said, “Mr. Glenn there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency is, or who is involved, but I will take you to the phone so you can call the hospital.” My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant telephone where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma center where I learned that my three-year-old son had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several minutes, and that when my wife had found him he was dead.

CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor, and the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital. By the time of my call, Brian was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain, nor to his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart. He had been severely crushed.

After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her calmness. The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage door had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little son laying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere.

He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed like a terrible dream. I was filled in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live, and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was ok — two miracles, in and of themselves. But only time would tell if his brain received any damage.

Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right. I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before. Finally at two o’clock that afternoon, our son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken, He said, “Daddy hold me,” and he reached for me with his little arms.

By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine our gratitude and joy.

As we took Brian home we felt a unique reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to those who brush death so closely. In the days that followed there was a special spirit about our home. Our two older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other, and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.

Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon nap and said, “Sit down mommy. I have something to tell you.” At this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed and he began his sacred and remarkable story.

“Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I called to you, but you couldn’t hear me. I started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then the ‘birdies’ came. “The birdies?” my wife asked puzzled. Yes,” he replied. “The ‘birdies’ made a whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me.” “They did?” “Yes, he said.” “One of the ‘birdies’ came and got you. She came to tell you I got stuck under the door.”

A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized that a three year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from beyond as “birdies” because they were up in the air like birds that fly.

“What did the birdies look like?” she asked.

Brian answered. “They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white all white. Some of them had green and white. But some of them had on just white.”

“Did they say anything?” “Yes” he answered. “They told me the baby would be alright.” “The baby?” my wife asked confused. And Brian answered. “The baby laying on the garage floor.” He went on, “You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not leave.”

My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian’s body and seeing his crushed chest and unrecognizable features, knowing he was already dead, she looked up around her and whispered, “Don’t leave us Brian, please stay if you can.”

As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left his body and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form. “Then what happened?” she asked. “We went on a trip,” he said, “far, far away..” He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn’t seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort him, and let him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that obviously was very important to him, but finding the words was difficult.

“We flew so fast up in the air.” “They’re so pretty Mommy.” he added. “And there is lots and lots of ‘birdies’. My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known.

Brian went on to tell her that the ‘birdies’ had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the ‘birdies’. He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were there. A man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man the baby would be okay, but the man couldn’t hear him. He said, ‘birdies’ told him he had to go with the ambulance, but they would be near him. He said, they were so pretty and so peaceful, and he didn’t want to come back. And then the bright light came. He said that the light was so bright and so warm, and he loved the bright light so much. Someone was in the bright light and put their arms around him, and told him, “I love you but you have to go back.”

You have to play baseball, and tell everyone about the birdies.” Then the person in the bright light kissed him and waved bye-bye. Then whoosh, the big sound came and they went into the clouds.”

The story went on for an hour. He taught us that “birdies” were always with us, but we don’t see them because we look with our eyes and we don’t hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there, you can only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is right because they love us so much. Brian continued, stating, “I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all live our plan and keep our promises.

The “birdies help us to do that cause they love us so much.” In the weeks that followed, he often came to us and told all, or part of it again and again.

Always the story remained the same. The details were never changed or out of order. A few times he added further bits of information and clarified the message he had already delivered. It never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he spoke of his “birdies.”

Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the “birdies”. Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him strangely when he did this. Rather, they always get a softened look on their face and smiled.

Needless to say, we have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be.

Author: Bob Richards
Source: Unknown


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The Lord’s Baseball Game

Bob and the Lord stood by to observe a baseball game. The Lord’s team was playing Satan’s team. The Lord’s team was at bat, the score was tied zero to zero, and it was the bottom of the 9th inning with two outs.

They continued to watch as a batter stepped up to the plate whose name was Love. Love swung at the first pitch and hit a single, because Love never fails.

The next batter was named Faith, who also got a single because Faith works with Love.

The next batter up was named Godly wisdom. Satan wound up and threw the first pitch. Godly Wisdom looked it over and let it pass: Ball one. Three more pitches and Godly Wisdom walked, because Godly wisdom never swings at what Satan throws. The bases were loaded.

The Lord then turned to Bob and told him He was now going to bring in His star player. Up to the plate stepped Grace. Bob said, “He sure doesn’t look like much!” Satan’s whole team relaxed when they saw Grace. Thinking he had won the game, Satan wound up and fired his first pitch. To the shock of everyone, Grace hit the ball harder than anyone had ever seen.

But Satan was not worried; his center fielder let very few get by. He went up for the ball, but it went right through his glove, hit him on the head and sent him crashing on the ground; then it continued over the fence for a home run! The Lord’s team won.

The Lord then asked Bob if he knew why Love, Faith, and Godly Wisdom could get on base but could not win the game. Bob answered that he did not know why.

The Lord explained,” If your love, faith and wisdom had won the game you would think you had done it by yourself. Love, faith and wisdom will get you on base, but only My Grace can get you home.”


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The Vessel

The Master was searching for a vessel to use:
Before Him were many,
Which one would He choose?
“Take me,” cried the gold one.
“I’m shiny and bright;
I’m of great value and I do things just right.
My beauty and luster will outshine the rest,
And for someone like you, Master, Gold would be best.”
The Master passed on with no word at all,
And looked at a silver urn, grand and tall.
“I’ll serve you dear Master, I’ll pour out your wine;
I’ll be on your table whenever you dine.
My lines are so graceful, my carving so true,
And silver will always complement you.”
Unheeding, the Master passed on to the brass,
Wide-mouthed and shallow and polished like glass.
“Here, here!” cried the vessel, “I know I will do;
Place me on your table for all men to view.”
“Look at me,” called the goblet of crystal so clear,
“My transparency shows my contents so dear.
Though fragile am I, I will serve you with pride,
And I’m sure I’ll be happy in your house to abide.”
Then the Master came next to a vessel of wood;
Polished and carved, it solidly stood.
“You may use me, dearest Master,” the wooden bowl said.
“But I’d rather you used me for fruit, not for bread.”
Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay.
Empty and broken it helplessly lay.
No hope had the vessel that the Master might choose,
To cleanse, and make whole, to fill and to use.
“Ah! Now This is the vessel I’ve been hoping to find.
I’ll mend it and use it and make it all mine.
I need not the vessel with pride of itself,
Nor one that is narrow to sit on the shelf;
Nor one that is big-mouthed and shallow and loud;
Nor one that displays his contents so proud;
Nor the one who thinks he can do things just right;
But this plain earthen vessel filled with power and might.”
Then gently He lifted the vessel of clay,
Mended and cleansed it and filled it that day;
Spoke to it kindly – “There’s work you must do…
Just pour out to others as I pour into you.”

B.V. Cornwall


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Family Treasure

A family had a very beautiful vase that was a family heirloom. Their little girl had been told that “it is our family treasure.” One day there was a loud crash. The little girl began to wail. Her mother ran into the room and found her daughter crying and the vase broken. She asked her daughter, “what is wrong?”. “I broke the family treasure”, she cried. Her mother picked her up and said, “Yes, but you are alright.” When the girl became a woman she said, “I found out that day that I was the real family treasure.

Did Jesus Use a Modem at the Sermon on the Mount?

Did Jesus use a modem,
At the Sermon on the Mount?
Did He ever try a broadcast fax,
To send His message out?
Did the disciples carry beepers,
As they went about their route?
Did Jesus use a modem,
At the Sermon on the Mount?

Did Paul use a Laptop,
With lots of RAM and ROM?
Were his letters posted on a BBS,
At Paul.Rome.Com?
Did the man from Macedonia,
Send an E-Mail saying “Come?”
Did Paul use a Laptop,
With lots of RAM and ROM?

Did Moses use a joystick,
At the parting of the Sea?
And a Satellite Guidance Tracking System,
To show him where to be?
Did he write the law on tablets,
Or are they really on CD?
Did Moses use a joystick,
At the parting of the Sea?

Did Jesus really die for us,
One day upon a tree?
Or was it just a Hologram,
Or Technical Wizardry?
Can you download the Live Action Video Clip,
To play on your PC?
Did Jesus really die for us,
One day upon a tree?

Have the wonders of this modern age,
Made you question what is true?
How a single man, in a simple time,
Could offer life anew?
How a sinless life, a cruel death,
Then a glorious life again,
Could offer more to a desperate world,
Than all the inventions of man?

If in your life, the voice of God,
Is sometimes hard to hear.
With other voices calling,
His doesn’t touch your ear.
Then set aside your laptop and modem,
And all your fancy gear.
And open your Bible, open your heart,
And let your Father draw near.

Author: Ellis Bush
e-mail: ellisbush@compuserve.com

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Not Yet

A man and wife who are both fanciers of antiques, pottery and china enter a little china shop in Sussex, England. Their eyes single out a little teacup on the top shelf.
“May I see that?” he asked. “I’ve never seen a teacup like it. Its beautiful!”
But suddenly the teacup spoke! “You don’t understand…I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time that I was red…and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me…and patted me over…and over…and over. I yelled out, ‘Let me alone!’ But he only smiled and said: ‘Not yet.'”
“Then I was placed on a spinning wheel,” the teacup said. “Suddenly I was spun around…and around…and around. ‘Stop it…I’m getting dizzy!’ I screamed.”
“The master only nodded and said: ‘Not yet.'”
“Then he put me in an oven…I’ve never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me…and I yelled…and I knocked on the door. I could see him through the opening…and I could read his lips as he shook his head: ‘Not yet.'”
“Finally the door did open…whew! He put me up on the shelf…and I began to cool. ‘There…that’s better, I said.'”
“Then suddenly he brushed me…and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible…and I thought I would gag: ‘Stop it…stop it!’ I cried. He only nodded: ‘Not yet.'”
“Then suddenly he put me back into an oven…not the first one…but one twice as hot. I knew I would suffocate. I begged…I pleaded…I screamed…I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening…nodding his head and saying: ‘Not yet.'”
“Then I knew there was no hope…and I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened…and he took me out…and he placed me on a shelf. One hour later…he handed me a mirror and said: ‘Look at yourself.'”
“And I did…and I said: ‘That’s not me…it couldn’t be me! I’m beautiful!'”
“‘I want you to remember’, he then said, ‘I know it hurt to be rolled and patted…but if I had left you…you would have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin you around on the wheel…but if I had stopped…you would have crumbled. I know it hurt…and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven…but if I hadn’t put you there…you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed you…and painted you all over, but you see…if I hadn’t done that…you would never have hardened. There would have been no color to your life. And if I hadn’t put you back in the second oven…you would not have survived for very long…and the hardness would not have held. Now you’re a finished product…. You’re what I had in mind when I first began with you!'”

Source: Ben Haden, Changed Lives (Chattanooga, Tennessee: Ben Haden Evangelical Association, Inc., 1973), pp. 15-16.


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The Weight of A Prayer

A PARABLE

A poorly dressed woman approached the owner of the store in a most humble manner and asked if he would let her charge a few groceries.

She softly explained that her husband was very ill and unable to work, they had seven children and they needed food. John Longhouse, the grocer scoffed at her and requested that she leave his store.

Visualizing the family needs, she said: ‘Please, sir! I will bring you the money just as soon as I can.”

John told her he could not give her credit, as she did not have a charge account at his store.

Standing beside the counter was a customer who overheard the conversation between the two. The customer walked forward and told the grocer that he would stand good for whatever she needed for her family.

The grocer said in a very reluctant voice, “Do you have a grocery list?

Louise replied, “Yes sir”

“O.K.” he said, “put your grocery list on the scales and whatever your grocery list weighs, I will give you that amount in groceries.”

Louise, hesitated a moment with a bowed head, then she reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. She then laid the piece of paper on the scale carefully with her head still bowed.

The eyes of the grocer and the customer showed amazement when the scales went down and stayed down.

The grocer, staring at the scales, turned slowly to the customer and said begrudgingly, “I can’t believe it.”

The customer smiled and the grocer started putting the groceries on the other side of the scales. The scale did not balance so he continued to put more and more groceries on them until the scales would hold no more.

The grocer stood there in utter disgust. Finally, he grabbed the piece of paper from the scales and looked at it with greater amazement.

It was not a grocery list, it was a prayer, which said:
“Dear Lord, you know my Needs and I am leaving this in your hands”.

The grocer gave her the groceries that he had gathered and stood in stunned silence. Louise thanked him and left the store.

The customer handed a fifty-dollar bill to the grocer and said,
“It was worth every penny of it.”

Only God Knows how much a prayer weighs.

Source unknown

 


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When God Created Fathers

When the good Lord was creating fathers, He started with a tall frame. And a female angel nearby said, “What kind of father is that? If you’re going to make children so close to the ground, why have you put fathers up so high? He won’t be able to shoot marbles without kneeling, tuck a child in bed without bending, or even kiss a child without a lot of stooping.”

And God smiled and said, “Yes, but if I make him child size, who would children have to look up to?”

And when God made a father’s hands, they were large and sinewy.

And the angel shook her head sadly and said, “Do You know what You’re doing? Large hands are clumsy. They can’t manage diaper pins, small buttons, rubber bands on pony tails or even remove splinters caused by baseball bats.”

God smiled and said, “I know, but they’re large enough to hold everything a small boy empties from his pockets at the end of a day…yet small enough to cup a child’s face.”

Then God molded long, slim legs and broad shoulders.

The angel nearly had a heart attack. “Boy, this is the end of the week, all right,” she clucked. “Do You realize You just made a father without a lap? How is he going to pull a child close to him without the kid falling between his legs?”

God smiled and said, “A mother needs a lap. A father needs strong shoulders to pull a sled, balance a boy on a bicycle or hold a sleepy head on the way home from the circus.”

God was in the middle of creating two of the largest feet anyone had ever seen when the angel could contain herself no longer. “That’s not fair. Do You honestly think those large boats are going to dig out of bed early in the morning when the baby cries? Or walk through a small birthday party without crushing at least three of the guests?”

And God smiled and said, “They’ll work. You’ll see. They’ll support a small child who wants to “ride a horse to Banbury Cross” or scare off mice at the summer cabin, or display shoes that will be a challenge to fill.”

God worked throughout the night, giving the father few words, but a firm authoritative voice; eyes that see everything, but remain calm and tolerant.

Finally, almost as an afterthought, He added tears. Then He turned to the angel and said, “Now are you satisfied that he can love as much as a mother?”

And the angel shutteth up!

Author: By Erma Bombeck

 

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An Old Question

“Can I be a Christian without joining the church?”
Answer: Yes, it is as possible as being:

A student who will not go to school.
A soldier who will not join an army.
A citizen who does not pay taxes or vote.
A salesman with no customers.
An explorer with no base camp.
A seaman on a ship without a crew.
A business man on a deserted island.
An author without readers.
A tuba player without an orchestra.
A parent without a family.
A football player without a team.
A politician who is a hermit.
A scientist who does not share his findings.
A bee without a hive.

– Robert G. Lee, SERMONIC LIBRARY, pp. 115-16.


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Father’s Are Wonderful People

Fathers are wonderful people too little understood,
And we do not sing their praises as often as we should …
For, somehow, Father seems to be the man who pays the bills,
While Mother binds up little hurts and nurses all our ills …
And Father struggles daily to live up to ‘HIS IMAGE’
As protector and provider and ‘hero of the scrimmage’
And perhaps that is the reason we sometimes get the notion
That Fathers are not subject to the thing we call emotion,
But if you look inside Dad’s heart, where no one else can see,
You’ll find he’s sentimental and as ‘soft’ as he can be …
But he’s so busy every day in the gruelling race of life,
He leaves the sentimental stuff to his partner and his wife …
But Fathers are just WONDERFUL in a million different ways,
And they merit loving compliments and accolades of praise,
For the only reason Dad aspires to fortune and success
Is to make the family proud of him and to bring them happiness …
And like our Heavenly Father, he’s a guardian and a guide,
Someone that we can count on to be always on our side.

Source: Unknown

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The Ballad of the Oyster

There once was an oyster
Whose story I tell,
Who found that some sand
Had got into its shell.

It was only a grain,
But it gave him great pain;
For oysters have feelings
Although they’re so plain.

Now, did he berate
The harsh workings of fate
That had brought him
To such a deplorable state?

Did he curse at the government,
Cry for election,
And claim that the sea should
Have given him protection?

No! He said to himself
As he lay on a shell,
“Since I cannot remove it,
I’ll try to improve it.”

Now the years have rolled by,
As the years always do,
And he came to his ultimate
Destiny–stew.

And the small grain of sand
That had bothered him so
Was a beautiful pearl
All richly aglow.

Now the tale has a moral;
For isn’t it grand
What an oyster can do
With a small grain of sand?

What couldn’t we do
If we’d only begin
With some of the things
That get under our skin.

Author Unknown

 


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Value in Disaster

Thomas Edison invented the microphone, the phonograph, the incandescent light, the storage battery, talking movies, and more than 1000 other things. December 1914 he had worked for 10 years on a storage battery. This had greatly strained his finances. This particular evening spontaneous combustion had broken out in the film room. Within minutes all the packing compounds, celluloid for records and film, and other flammable goods were in flames. Fire companies from eight surrounding towns arrived, but the heat was so intense and the water pressure so low that the attempt to douse the flames was futile. Everything was destroyed. Edison was 67. With all his assets going up in a whoosh (although the damage exceeded two million dollars, the buildings were only insured for $238,000 because they were made of concrete and thought to be fireproof), would his spirit be broken? The inventor’s 24-year old son, Charles, searched frantically for his father. He finally found him, calmly watching the fire, his face glowing in the reflection, his white hair blowing in the wind. “My heart ached for him,” said Charles. “He was 67–no longer a young man–and everything was going up in flames. When he saw me, he shouted, ‘Charles, where’s your mother?’ When I told him I didn’t know, he said, Find her. Bring her here. She will never see anything like this as long as she lives.'” The next morning, Edison looked at the ruins and said, “There is great value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew.” Three weeks after the fire, Edison managed to deliver the first phonograph.

Author: Charles Swindoll
Source: Hand Me Another Brick, Thomas Nelson, 1978, pp. 82-3

 


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The Window

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room’s only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color of the rainbow. Grand old trees graced the landscape, and a fine view of the city skyline
could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn’t hear the band, he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window.

The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it for himself. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, “Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.”

Epilogue
There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all of the things you have that money can’t buy.

 


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Letting Go

There was once a lonely girl who longed desperately for love. One day while she was walking in the woods she found two starving song birds. She took them home and put them in a small glided cage. She nurtured them with love and the birds grew strong. Every morning they greeted her with a marvellous song. The girl felt great love for the birds. She wanted their singing to last forever.

One day the girl left the door to the cage open. The larger and stronger of the two birds flew from the cage. The girl watched anxiously as he circled high above her. She was so frightened that he would fly away and she would never see him again that as he flew close, she grasped at him wildly. She caught him in her fist. She clutched him tightly within her hand. Her heart gladened at her sucess in capturing him. Suddenly she felt the bird go limp. She opened her hand stared in horror at the dead bird. Her desperate clutching love had killed him.

She noticed the other bird teteering on the edge of the cage. She could feel his great need for freedom. His need to soar into the clear, blue sky. She lifted him from the cage and tossed him softly into the air. The bird circled once, twice, three times.

The girl watched delighted at the bird’s enjoyment. Her heart was no longer concerned with her loss. She wanted the bird to be happy. Suddenly the bird flew closer and landed softly on her shoulder. It sang the sweetest melody, she had ever heard.

The fastest way to lose love is to hold on too tight, the best way to keep love is to give it — WINGS!

Author: Dee Edgett
Source: Unknown


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Waldorf Astor

One stormy night an elderly couple entered the lobby of a small hotel and asked for a room. The clerk said they were filled, as were all the hotels in town. “But I can’t send a fine couple like you out in the rain,” he said. “Would you be willing to sleep in my room?” The couple hesitated, but the clerk insisted.

The next morning when the man paid his bill, he said, “You’re the kind of man who should be managing the best hotel in the United States. Someday I’ll build you one.” The clerk smiled politely.

A few years later the clerk received a letter from the elderly man, recalling that stormy night and asking him to come to New York. A round-trip ticket was enclosed. When the clerk arrived, his host took him to the corner of 5th Avenue and 34th Street, where stood a magnificent new building. “That,” explained the man, “is the hotel I have built for you to manage.”

The man was William Waldorf Astor, and the hotel was the original Waldorf-Astoria. The young clerk, George C. Boldt, became its first manager.

 


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I want to be possible

The teacher asked her class what each wanted to become when they grew up. A chorus of responses came from all over the room. “A football player,” “A doctor,” “An astronaut,” “The president,” “A fireman,” “A teacher,” “A race car driver.”

Everyone that is, except Tommy. The teacher noticed he was sitting there quiet and still. So she said to him, “Tommy, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Possible” Tommy replied.
“Possible?” asked the teacher.

“Yes,” Tommy said. “My mom is always telling me I’m impossible. So when I get to be big, I want to be possible.”


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Beggar King

crown.jpgOnce there was a time, according to legend, when Ireland was ruled by a king who had no son. The king sent out his couriers to post notices in all the towns of his realm. The notices advised that every qualified young man should apply for an interview with the king as a possible successor to the throne. However, all such candidates must have these two qualifications: They must (1) love God and (2) love their fellow human beings.

The Young man about whom this legend centers saw a notice and reflected that he loved God and, also, his neighbors. One thing stopped him, he was so poor that he had no clothes that would be presentable in the sight of the king. Nor did he have the funds to buy provisions for the long journey to the castle. So the young man begged here, and borrowed there, finally managing to scrounge enough money for the appropriate clothes and the necessary supplies.

Properly attired and well-suited, the young man set out on his quest, and had almost completed the journey when he came upon a poor beggar by the side of the road. The beggar sat trembling, clad only in tattered rags. His extended arms pleaded for help. His weak voice croaked, “I’m hungry and cold. Please help me… please?”

The young man was so moved by this beggar’s need that he immediately stripped off his new clothes and put on the tattered threads of the beggar. Without a second thought he gave the beggar all his provision as well. Then, somewhat hesitantly, he continued his journey to the castle dressed in the rags of the beggar, lacking provisions for his return trek home. Upon his arrival at the castle, a king’s attendant showed him in to the great hall. After a brief respite to clean off the journey’s grime, he was finally admitted to the throne room of the king.

The young man bowed low before his majesty. When he raised his eyes, he gaped in astonishment. “You… it’s you! You’re the beggar by the side of the road.”

“Yes,” the king replied with a twinkle, “I was that beggar.”

“But…bu…bu… you are not really a beggar. You are the king for real. Well, then, why did you do this to me?” the young man stammered after gaining more of his composure.

“Because I had to find out if you genuinely love God and your fellow human beings,” said the king. “I knew that if I came to you as king, you would have been impressed by my gem-encrusted golden crown and my royal robes. You would have done anything I asked of you because of my regal character. But that way I would never have known what is truly in your heart. So I used a ruse. I came to you as a beggar with no claims on you except for the love in your heart. And I discovered that you sincerely do love God and your fellow human beings. You will be my successor,” promised the king. “You will inherit my kingdom.”

Author: Unknown
Source: The Sower’s Seeds


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The Cross Room

cross.jpgThe young man was at the end of his rope. Seeing no way out, he dropped to his knees in prayer. “Lord, I can’t go on,” he said. “I have too heavy a cross to bear.” The Lord replied, “My son, if you can’t bear it’s weight, just place your cross inside this room. Then open another door and pick any cross you wish.” The man was filled with relief. “Thank you, Lord,” he sighed, and did as he was told. As he looked around the room he saw many different crosses; some so large the tops were not visible. Then he spotted a tiny cross leaning against a far wall. “I’d like that one, Lord,” he whispered. And the Lord replied, “My son, that’s the cross you brought in.


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24 Things To Always Remember

Your presence is a present to the world.
You are unique and one of a kind.
Your life can be what you want it to be.
Take the days just one at a time.

Count your blessings, not your troubles.
You will make it through whatever comes along.
Within you are so many answers.
Understand, have courage, be strong.

Do not put limits on yourself.
So many dreams are waiting to be realized.
Decisions are too important to leave to chance.
Reach for your peak, your goal and your prize.

Nothing wastes more energy than worrying.
The longer one carries a problem the heavier it gets.
Do not take things too seriously.
Live a life of serenity, not a life of regrets.

Remember that a little love goes a long way.
Remember that a lot, goes forever.
Remember that friendship is a wise investment.
Life’s treasure are people together.

Realize that it is never too late.
Do ordinary things in an extraordinary way.
Have hearth and hope and happiness.
Take the time to wish upon a star.

AND DO NOT EVER FORGET.
FOR EVEN A DAY
HOW VERY SPECIAL YOU ARE !
Author Unknown
Source Unknown


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Poison

A long time ago, a girl named Li-Li got married and went to live with her husband and mother-in-law. In a very short time, Li-Li found that she couldn’t get along with her mother-in-law at all. Their personalities were very different, and Li-Li was angered by many of her mother-in-law’s habits. In addition, she criticized Li-Li constantly.

Days passed days, and weeks passed weeks. Li-Li and her mother-in-law never stopped arguing and fighting. But what made the situation even worse was that, according to ancient Chinese tradition, Li-Li had to bow to her mother-in-law and obey her every wish. All the anger and unhappiness in the house was causing the poor husband great distess.

Finally, Li-Li could not stand her mother-in-law’s bad temper and dictatorship any longer, and she decided to do something about it.

Li-Li went to see her father’s good friend, Mr. Huang, who sold herbs. She told him the situation and asked if he would give her some poison so that she could solve the problem once and for all. Mr. Huang thought for awhile, and finally said, Li-Li, I will help you solve your problem, but you must listen to me and obey what I tell you. Li-Li said, “Yes, Mr. Huang, I will do whatever you tell me to do.” Mr. Huang went into the back room, and returned in a few minutes with a package of herbs. He told Li-Li, “You can’t use a quick-acting poison to get rid of your mother-in-law, because that would cause people to become suspicious. Therefore, I have given you a number of herbs that will slowly build up poison in her body. Every other day prepare some pork or chicken and put a little of these herbs in her serving. Now, in order to make sure that nobody suspects you when she dies, you must be very careful to act very friendly towards her. Don’t argue with her, obey her every wish, and treat her like a queen.” Li-Li was so happy. She thanked Mr. Huang and hurried home to start her plot of murdering her mother-in-law.

Weeks went by, and months went by, and every other day, Li-Li served the specially treated food to her mother-in-law. She remembered what Mr. Huang had said about avoiding suspicion, so she controlled her temper, obeyed her mother-in-law, and treated her like her own mother. After six months had passed, the whole household had changed. Li-Li had practiced controlling her temper so much that she found that she almost never got mad or upset. She hadn’t had an argument in six months with her mother-in-law, who now seemed much kinder and easier to get along with.

The mother-in-law’s attitude toward Li-Li changed, and she began to love Li-Li like her own daughter. She kept telling friends and relatives that Li-Li was the best daughter-in-law one could ever find. Li-Li and her mother-in-law were now treating each other like a real mother and daughter. Li-Li’s husband was very happy to see what was happening.

One day, Li-Li came to see Mr. Huang and asked for his help again. She said, “Dear Mr. Huang, please help me to keep the poison from killing my mother-in-law! She’s changed into such a nice woman, and I love her like my own mother. I do not want her to die because of the poison I gave her.” Mr. Huang smiled and nodded his head. “Li-Li, there’s nothing to worry about. I never gave you any poison. The herbs I gave you were vitamins to improve her health. The only poison was in your mind and your attitude toward her, but that has been all washed away by the love which you gave to her.”

MORAL : Friends, have you ever realized that how you treat others is exactly how they will treat you? In China it is said: The person who loves others will also be loved.

Author Unknown, Source Unknown

 


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Wealth, Success, and Love

A woman came out of her house and saw 3 old men with long white beards sitting in her front yard. She did not recognize them. She said “I don’t think I know you, but you must be hungry. Please come in and have something to eat.”

Is the man of the house home?”, they asked.

“No”, she said. “He’s out.”

“Then we cannot come in,” they replied.

In the evening when her husband came home, she told him what had happened. “Go tell them I am home and invite them in!” The woman went out and invited the men in.

“We do not go into a house together,” they replied.

“Why is that?” she wanted to know.

One of the old men explained: “His name is Wealth,” he said pointing to one of his friends, and said pointing to another one, “He is Success, and I am Love.” Then he added, “Now go in and discuss with your husband which one of us you want in your home.”

The woman went in and told her husband what was said. Her husband was overjoyed. “How nice!!,” he said. “Since that is the case, let us invite Wealth. Let him come and fill our home with wealth!”

His wife disagreed. “My dear, why don’t we invite Success?”

Their daughter-in-law was listening from the other corner of the house. She jumped in with her own suggestion: “Would it not be better to invite Love? Our home will then be filled with love!”

“Let us heed our daughter-in-law’s advice,” said the husband to his wife. “Go out and invite Love to be our guest.”

The woman went out and asked the 3 old men, “Which one of you is Love? Please come in and be our guest.”

Love got up and started walking toward the house. The other 2 also got up and followed him. Surprised, the lady asked Wealth and Success:

“I only invited Love, Why are you coming in?” The old men replied together: “If you had invited Wealth or Success, the other two of us would’ve stayed out, but since you invited Love, wherever He goes, we go with him. Wherever there is Love, there is also Wealth and Success!”

Author Unknown, Source Unknown


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Walking the Walk

cannon.jpgA Civil War chaplain approached a wounded soldier on the battlefield and asked if he’d like to hear a few verses from the Bible. The wounded man said, “No, I’m so thirsty, I’d rather have some water.” The chaplain gave him a drink, then repeated his question. “No sir, not now — but could you put something under my head?” The chaplain did so, and again repeated his question. “No,” said the soldier, “I’m cold. Could you cover me up?” The chaplain took off his inside coat and wrapped the soldier. Afraid to ask, he did not repeat his question. He made to go away, but the soldier called him back. “Look, Chaplain, if there’s anything in that book of yours that makes a person do for another what you’ve done for me, then I want to hear it.”

Source: Carlos Wilton, via PresbyNet, “Sermonshop 04 17 1994,” #5, 4/12/94

 


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The Onion

I was an onion before Christ set me free;
Layers upon layers of iniquity.
An ugly old onion whose fragrance was strong;
That my Jesus bought and loved all along.

Unknown to me what He was going to do;
Of what He was planning, I had not a clue.
Pulling each layer off one by one,
In order to make me more like Jesus the Son.

The first layer, wasn’t so bad,
I saw all the sins that I knew I had.
They were easy to fix, just change the way I talk,
And learn more of how He wanted me to walk.

Reading His Word, and learning again;
How to put aside my life of sin.
But the next layer was pulled which hurt more,
He was getting closer to the core.

Unknown what He would find there,
I simply gave it to Him in prayer.
As another layer was removed, He started to cry;
Pulling this layer brought pain to my Father on High.

And I was crying over the sadness I felt;
The brokenness and all of the guilt.
Past memories that I thought were gone;
But they were buried under layers disguised in a fragrance so strong.

As onions are peeled more and more,
They put tears in our eyes as we get close to the core;
So my Father wept over my pain;
Giving me a balm of comfort and strength to sustain.

“NO MORE LAYERS!” I would scream,
As He continued to peel each layer off of me.
“I’ll have nothing left, my Lord, what will I do?
I’ll be nothing but a worthless core to You.”

But He simply said “Trust Me,” continuing to peel,
I believed He was blinded to my pain that was so real.
Year after year I shrunk more and more;
Until all that was left of this onion was a core.

It was then that I began to understand;
As the Lord embraced me in His loving hand.
He said, “Now, and only now, can you be;
The creation that will minister before Me.

“Clothed with the righteousness, only from above;
one are your layers of, self, so you can be filled with My love.”
He look my layers of sin, hurt and pain
And clothed me with love, truth and mercy in His name.

Yes, we are all onions, learning with each day
How to overcome as each layer is taken away.
Some layers tear and pull at our heart;
While others grieve us to our innermost part.

But we are nothing but an ugly onion without Christ.
Layers upon layers of pride, sin and strife.
Only God can take those layers away.
And clothe us with His righteousness in that Final Day.

[Author Unknown]


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A Penny

penny.jpgSeveral years ago, a friend of mine and her husband were invited to spend the weekend at the husband’s employer’s home. My friend, Arlene, was nervous about the weekend. The boss was very wealthy, with a fine home on the waterway, and cars costing more than her house.

The first day and evening went well, and Arlene was delighted to have this rare glimpse into how the very wealthy live. The husband’s employer was quite generous as a host, and took them to the finest restaurants. Arlene knew she would never have the opportunity to indulge in this kind of extravagance again, so was enjoying herself immensely.

As the three of them were about to enter an exclusive restaurant that evening, the boss was walking slightly ahead of Arlene and her husband.

He stopped suddenly, looking down on the pavement for a long, silent moment. Arlene wondered if she was supposed to pass him. There was nothing on the ground except a single darkened penny that someone had dropped, and a few cigarette butts.

Still silent, the man reached down and picked up the penny. He held it up and smiled, then put it in his pocket as if he had found a great treasure. How absurd! What need did this man have for a single penny? Why would he even take the time to stop and pick it up? Throughout dinner, the entire scene nagged at her.

Finally, she could stand it no longer. She causally mentioned that her daughter once had a coin collection, and asked if the penny he had found had been of some value.

A smile crept across the man’s face as he reached into his pocket for the penny and held it out for her to see. She had seen many pennies before! What was the point of this?

“Look at it.” He said. “Read what it says.”

She read the words “United States of America.”

“No, not that; read further.”

“One cent?”

“No, keep reading.”

“In God we Trust?”

“Yes!”

“And?”

“And if I trust in God, the name of God is holy, even on a coin. Whenever I find a coin I see that inscription. It is written on every single United States coin, but we never seem to notice it! God drops a message right in front of me telling me to trust Him? Who am I to pass it by? When I see a coin, I pray, I stop to see if my trust IS in God at that moment. I pick the coin up as a response to God; that I do trust in Him. For a short time, at least, I cherish it as if it were gold. I think it is God’s way of starting a conversation with me. Lucky for me, God is patient and pennies are plentiful!

When I was out shopping today, I found a penny on the sidewalk. I stopped and picked it up, and realized that I had been worrying and fretting in my mind about things I cannot change. I read the words, “In God We Trust,” and had to laugh. Yes, God, I get the message. It seems that I have been finding an inordinate number of pennies in the last few months, but then, pennies are plentiful!

And, God is patient…

Author: Unknown
Source Unknown


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Easter Eggs

easter_egg3.jpgBackground of the Easter Egg

Of all the symbols associated with Easter the egg, the symbol of fertility and new life, is the most identifiable. The customs and traditions of using eggs have been associated with Easter for centuries.

Originally Easter eggs were painted with bright colors to represent the sunlight of spring and were used in Easter egg rolling contests or given as gifts.

After they were colored and etched with various designs the eggs were exchanged by lovers and romantic admirers, much the same as valentines.

In medieval time eggs were traditionally given at Easter to the servants. In Germany eggs were given to children along with other Easter gifts

Different cultures have developed their own ways of decorating Easter eggs. Crimson eggs, to honor the blood of Christ, are exchanged in Greece. In parts of Germany and Austria green eggs are used on Maundy Thursday (Holy Thursday). Slavic peoples decorate their eggs in special patterns of gold and silver. Austrian artists design patterns by fastening ferns and tiny plants around the eggs, which are then boiled. The plants are then removed revealing a striking white pattern. The Poles and Ukrainians decorate eggs with simple designs and colors. A number of eggs are made in the distinctive manner called pysanki. Pysanki eggs are a masterpiece of skill and workmanship. Melted beeswax is applied to the fresh white egg. It is then dipped in successive baths of dye. After each dip wax is painted over the area where the preceding color is to remain. Eventually a complex pattern of lines and colors emerges into a work of art.

In Germany and other countries eggs used for cooking were not broken, but the contents were removed by piercing the end of each egg with a needle and blowing the contents into a bowl. The hollow eggs were died and hung from shrubs and trees during the Easter Week. The Armenians would decorate hollow eggs with pictures of Christ, the Virgin Mary, and other religious designs.

The Romans celebrated the Easter season by running races on an oval track and giving eggs as prizes.

In many places, on Easter morning the children of the house join in a search to locate the eggs that the mythical Easter Bunny has hidden while they were asleep. The searching might continue though out the house with the older children helping the youngest. Sometimes prizes of candy are awaiting the child finding the most eggs

Others have an “Easter Egg Roll.” The rules of an Easter Egg Roll are to see who can roll an egg the greatest distance or can make the egg roll without breaking it, usually down a grassy hillside or slope.

Source: unknown

 

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Tale of Three Trees

easter_tree.jpg

A traditional American Folktale

Long ago in the far away land of Palestine, three trees stood on a hillside overlooking a seaport town.

Each three had great hopes and dreams of what it would be when fully grown. The first tree boasted that it’s lumber would be used to make a great and beautiful treasure chest. The chest would be decorated with bright golden hinges and polished to a fine and shiny finish. Inside it would hold great riches, jewels which were the colors of the rainbow and gold and silver coins.

The second tree claimed that it would be fashioned into a fine sailing ship. The ship would sail the high seas and travel to far and exotic places. The passengers would be kings and soldiers and statesmen who would marvel at the beauty of such a wonderful ship and the smooth and safe voyages it gave them.

The third tree declared that it would not be cut down and used by man for any of his needs. This tree would be left standing because of its beauty and strength. People would look at the reach of this tree’s branches and would think of God and all His glory as they gazed upward to the sky.

Then one day three men with axes came to the hill where the trees stood tall and full. As each tree stood in anticipation of their fate, the first man approached the first tree. He examined it and decided it was a good tree for his uses and so he cut it down. The second man looked at the second tree and assessing its sturdiness and good quality proceeded to chop it down. The third man stood looking at the third tree who reached its branches ever upward, hoping he would leave the tree alone to live its days on that hill. However, the third man judged the tree to be perfect for his needs, and cut it down.

Now the first tree that had dreamed of being a beautiful treasure chest was instead made into a manger. It was sold to a farmer who used it in his cave where he kept and fed his animals. From this manger the animals of the farm ate the hay that lay in it. Until one night a young woman and her husband came to the cave looking for shelter for themselves and their newborn baby. In that manger, they laid their infant son. It was at that moment that the tree knew that it held the greatest treasure in the world, God’s gift to mankind. And as the child lay sleeping in the manger, the angels sang and the stars shown brightly in the sky.

Sometime later, the second tree was made into a small fishing boat. Its dreams of becoming a great sailing ship were gone. Now it carried fishermen and the quantities of fish that they caught each day from a small sea. Suddenly a great storm arose and waves rocked the boat back and forth as it tried to steady itself to keep from being wrecked. The man who led the others had no fear. He admonished His friends for being frightened and having so little faith. Then He stood in the boat and raised his hand saying, “Peace.” As suddenly as the storm had come up, it went away and all was calm around them. At that moment the second tree knew that it carried a man greater than any worldly king, soldier or statesman and that it sailed a greater adventure than it could ever have dreamed of.

The third tree spent many years in a lumber yard until one Friday morning it was yanked out of the pile of lumber it had lain in. It was made into a crucifix and put on the shoulders of a tired man who had been badly beaten. The man was forced to carry the crucifix to a mountain top and there it was planted into the ground. The man was then put upon the cross and his hands and feet were nailed to it. The tree shuddered with fear and sorrow as it felt the man’s pain. The tree was filled with shame at what it had become a part of. Then as the man died upon the cross a great storm descended from heaven and the earth shook. At that moment the tree felt the power of God radiating through it.

Two days later, on Sunday morning the sun rose and joy and warmth filled the air as God’s love changed all that had gone before.

God’s love made the first tree beautiful.
It made the second tree strong.
And each time people looked upon the third tree they thought of God.

 

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Keep Your Fork

fork.jpgThere was a woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. As she was getting things “in order,” she contacted her pastor for him to come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes. She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. The woman also requested to be buried with her favorite Bible.

Everything was done and the pastor was leaving when the woman suddenly exclaimed, “There’s one more thing,” The pastor asked, “What’s that?” As he turned, he saw that she had left the living room and was in the kitchen. He heard her rummaging around as she called, “This is…” she came back in to the living room,…“very important.” with a fork in her right hand!

“I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.” she proclaimed. All the pastor could say was a slow, “Well…” “That surprises you, doesn’t it?” the woman asked, smiling. “Does it show?” the pastor asked. She nodded. The pastor said, “Well, it does seem strange.”

The woman explained. “In all my years of attending church social and potluck dinners, I always remember when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming…like velvety chocolate cake or deep dish
apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!”

The lady said, “I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder, ‘What’s with the fork?’ Then I want you to tell them, ‘Keep your fork…The best is yet to come.”’

The pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged her good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She KNEW that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the woman’s casket and they saw the pretty dress she was wearing and her favorite Bible and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the pastor heard the question, “What’s with the fork?”

And he just smiled. During his message, he told the people of the conversation he had with the woman shortly before she died and what the fork symbolized to her. The pastor told the people how he could not stop thinking about the fork and told them that they probably would not be able to stop thinking about it either. So the next time you reach down for your fork, let it gently remind you that the best is yet to come…

Source:Unknown

 

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The Carpenter

dramashare.jpgMonologue about the builder of the cross on which Jesus was crucified. Can be used at any time of year, including Easter. Based on the ideas in a script written by Kate Rothacker.

“This script is made available through a special arrangement with Dramashare. If you are looking for free scripts for VBS, summer camps, youth meetings, mime, Children’s sermons, puppetry, clowning, human video, choral reading, interpretive movement, or a sermon starter, then DramaShare is one of the best Drama Ministry resources I have ever found. It is the world’s most visited Christian drama ministry web site. Purchase an annual membership to DramaShare ministry at the link http://dramashare.org/item.php?id=2959 to get free access to over 1,500 royalty free scripts on-line.” -Ken


Staging Information

Keywords

cross, carpenter, remorse

Cast

Monologue, likely male

Costumes

either traditional or contemporary

Sound and Lighting

Mic for actor
a tight spot on the actor would be useful, with the balance of the acting area in shadow.

Props

a few very large nails and a carpenter’s belt, hammer

Run Time – (approx)

5 minutes


Script



Actor comes on stage, looks down at mimed cross upstage, speaks

It is finished! My work completed. I delivered as was contracted, six stout cross beams, strong enough to hold the weight of a full grown dying man.
I’m always pleased to see a job completed. Pleased with the feeling of accomplishment. And also with the financial rewards as well, no reason to deny that.
I am a carpenter, . . . a fine carpenter, like my father . .and his father before him. A carpenter, an honorable profession.
I have made the things that the people of Jerusalem take for granted. Things on which they sit, or lie, or eat, . . . . . . sometimes those on which they die.
Once delivered I no longer think of these articles, or the people who pay me handsomely for supplying them. Should I worry about the thoughts or character of the one seated on the chair I have made? Should I lay awake wondering if the meals served on my tables tonight were healthy and nourishing?
The very thought is preposterous.
Well, I do admit to some discomfort when first the Roman guard gave me this task, but honestly more than I chaffed at this work, I chaffed at having to perform services for the Romans. Overbearing fools! And at any rate, the crimes committed by those who will die on these works of art were done in full knowledge that retribution would be swiftly and painfully accomplished. And further, Roman gold buys food as well as any other gold!

looks over shoulder, upstage

Yet when I saw my handiwork on hillside of Golgotha, great chills ran throughout my body.

moves downstage as though begging audience to understand

What have I done?
What have I done?

more confident

Look, it is surely nothing to be ashamed of. I did my job, nothing more, nothing less. I did as I was expected, and I did it well.

less self-assured

Why, then, is it strangely different this time? I see the three in the holding pen there, that they deserve their fate I have no doubt. That one, Elishua, one of the most feared robbers in the nation. No highway was safe by night or day with the likes of him about. Yet I heard he had some miraculous conversion when the prisoner yonder entered Jerusalem some days ago. In fact, I’ve heard it was the letting down of his guard that allowed the Romans to capture Elishua.
Nonetheless, who am I to judge whether the crimes of these men were sufficient to merit death on the cross? That weighty matter is Pilate’s domain. My role is simply to find a strong tree out of which to fashion the beams, which will bear the broken bodies high that all might see the shame of sin.

quieter
They say that the Nazarene was also a carpenter. A man like me. Could that be why my soul seems ill at ease?

annoyed

I could not know that. For all I know dozens of carpenters have found cruel support from the work of my hands… (holds hands up, looking at them closely) My hands. . . I have used these hands, as likely he used his, to make something useful out of nothing. These hands of mine have given new life to that which was dead, an ugly, useless old log became a stool on which a mother could sit with her child. These hands have shaped and molded old pieces of wood until they became utilitarian tools, even works of art, in use and on display in homes throughout the area. With these hands, many times I have cut and hammered. My hands, a hammer and a handful of nails fashion great works.
. . . hammer.
. . . . .and a handful of nails.
They hammer a nail through the hands of the crucified, you know. And the feet!

(throws nails to the floor, loudly, begins pacing)
But what was I to do? Was it not their choice to commit their crimes? I did not place any man upon the cross; it is their offense, not mine, which hangs them there.
And yet, in how many ways we are alike!
We worked the same trade, he and I, but I go on with my craft while he hangs on my cross.
I don’t know who this man was. I have no way of knowing what he did to receive this punishment. But this I know; I can no longer continue my trade.
I will inform the Romans immediately they can find somebody else to make these cruel instruments of death.
I did that which I had contracted for . . . and now. . . ., my work . . .it. . . . is . . . .finished.

actor off stage


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The Rich Family in Church

I’ll never forget Easter 1946. I was 14, my little sister Ocy was 12,and my older sister Darlene 16. We lived at home with our mother, and the four of us knew what it was to do without many things. My dad had died five years before, leaving Mom with seven school kids to raise and no money.

By 1946 my older sisters were married and my brothers had left home. A month before Easter the pastor of our church announced that a special Easter offering would be taken to help a poor family. He asked everyone to save and give sacrificially.

When we got home, we talked about what we could do. We decided to buy 50 pounds of potatoes and live on them for a month. This would allow us to save $20 of our grocery money for the offering. When we thought that if we kept our electric lights turned out as much as possible and didn’t listen to the radio, we’d save money on that month’s electric bill. Darlene got as many house and yard cleaning jobs as possible, and both of us babysat for everyone we could. For 15 cents we could buy enough cotton loops to make three pot holders to sell for $1.

We made $20 on pot holders. That month was one of the best of our lives.

Every day we counted the money to see how much we had saved. At night we’d sit in the dark and talk about how the poor family was going to enjoy having the money the church would give them. We had about 80 people in church, so figured that whatever amount of money we had to give, the offering would surely be 20 times that much. After all, every Sunday the pastor had reminded everyone to
save for the sacrificial offering.

The day before Easter, Ocy and I walked to the grocery store and got the manager to give us three crisp $20 bills and one $10 bill for all our change.

We ran all the way home to show Mom and Darlene. We had never had so much money before.

That night we were so excited we could hardly sleep. We didn’t care that we wouldn’t have new clothes for Easter; we had $70 for the sacrificial offering.

We could hardly wait to get to church! On Sunday morning, rain was pouring. We didn’t own an umbrella, and the church was over a mile from our home, but it didn’t seem to matter how wet we got. Darlene had cardboard in her shoes to fill the holes. The cardboard came apart, and her feet got wet.

But we sat in church proudly. I heard some teenagers talking about the Smith girls having on their old dresses. I looked at them in their new clothes, and I felt rich.

When the sacrificial offering was taken, we were sitting on the second row from the front. Mom put in the $10 bill, and each of us kids put in a $20.

As we walked home after church, we sang all the way. At lunch Mom had a surprise for us. She had bought a dozen eggs, and we had boiled Easter eggs with our fried potatoes! Late that afternoon the minister drove up in his car. Mom went to the door, talked with him for a moment, and then came back with an envelope in her hand. We asked what it was, but she didn’t say a word. She opened the envelope and out fell a bunch of money. There were three crisp $20 bills, one $10 and seventeen $1 bills.

Mom put the money back in the envelope. We didn’t talk, just sat and stared at the floor. We had gone from feeling like millionaires to feeling like poor white trash. We kids had such a happy life that we felt sorry for anyone who didn’t have our Mom and Dad for parents and a house full of brothers and sisters and other kids visiting constantly. We thought it was fun to share silverware and see whether we got the spoon or the fork that night.

We had two knifes that we passed around to whoever needed them. I knew we didn’t have a lot of things that other people had, but I’d never thought we were poor.

That Easter day I found out we were. The minister had brought us the money for the poor family, so we must be poor. I didn’t like being poor. I looked at my dress and worn-out shoes and felt so ashamed–I didn’t even want to go back to church. Everyone there probably already knew we were poor!

I thought about school. I was in the ninth grade and at the top of my class of over 100 students. I wondered if the kids at school knew that we were poor. I decided that I could quit school since I had finished the eighth grade. That was all the law required at that time. We sat in silence for a long time. Then it got dark, and we went to bed. All that week, we girls went to school and came home, and no one talked much. Finally on Saturday, Mom asked us what we wanted to do with the money. What did poor people do with money? We didn’t know. We’d never known we were poor. We didn’t want to go to church on Sunday, but Mom said we had to. Although it was a sunny day, we didn’t talk on the way.

Mom started to sing, but no one joined in and she only sang one verse. At church we had a missionary speaker. He talked about how churches in Africa made buildings out of sun dried bricks, but they needed money to buy roofs. He said $100 would put a roof on a church. The minister said, “Can’t we all sacrifice to help these poor people?” We looked at each other and smiled for the first time in a week.

Mom reached into her purse and pulled out the envelope. She passed it to Darlene. Darlene gave it to me, and I handed it to Ocy. Ocy put it in the offering.

When the offering was counted, the minister announced that it was a little over $100. The missionary was excited. He hadn’t expected such a large offering from our small church. He said, “You must have some rich people in this church.”

Suddenly it struck us! We had given $87 of that “little over $100.”

We were the rich family in the church! Hadn’t the missionary said so? From that day on I’ve never been poor again. I’ve always remembered how rich I am because I have Jesus!

Author: Eddie Ogan
Source: Unknown

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On the Physical Death of Jesus Christ

crucifixion.jpgOriginally printed in the Journal of the American Medical Association (JAMA) this is a medically and historically accurate account of the physical death of Jesus Christ. It contains illustrations and walks through the events of the crucifixion from a medical perspective. Don’t miss it!

Click here to download the adobe acrobat PDF file [1.25 megabytes in size] from the website

Source:
“On the Physical Death of Jesus Christ”
William D. Edwards, MD; Wesley J. Gabel, MDiv; Floyd E Hosmer, MS, AMI
Reprinted from JAMA – The Journal of the American Medical Association
March 21, 1986, Volume 256
Copyright 1986, American Medical Association

If you don’t have Adobe Acrobat Reader, you can get it for free from here:
Download Acrobat reader

 

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Empty Chair, The

chair2.jpgA man’s daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. “I guess you were expecting me,” he said.

“No, who are you?”

“I’m the new associate at your local church,” the pastor replied. “When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up.”

“Oh yeah, the chair,” said the bedridden man. “Would you mind closing the door?”

Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.

“I’ve never told anyone this, not even my daughter,” said the man. “But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head..”

“I abandoned any attempt at prayer,” the old man continued, “until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, ‘Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here’s what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It’s not spooky because he promised, ‘I’ll be with you always.’ Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you’re doing with me right now.”

“So, I tried it and I’ve liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I’m careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she’d either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm.”

The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church.

Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon.

“Did he seem to die in peace?” he asked.

“Yes, when I left the house around two o’clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange–kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed.”

Author: Unknown
Source: Unknown


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Twas the Night Before Easter

Twas the day before Easter and all through the woods,
The bunnies were busy packing their goods.

The eggs were all colored so pretty and bright,
All things were “go” for the big, special night.

The baskets were waiting, all decorated with care,
In hopes that the Bunny soon would be there.

My little brother Sam was asleep in his bed,
While visions of Easter eggs rolled round his head.

And I in my pajamas with the cat on my lap,
I had just settled down for a quick little nap.

When outside the window I heard a great noise,
I sprang from my chair and jumped over some toys.

As quick as a flash to the window I flew,
I pulled up the shade and, OH, what a view.

The moon on the meadow cast a bright golden glow
And the wind blew the flowers to and then fro.

Then all of a sudden from out of nowhere,
Came some lively bunnies, hopping here, hopping there!

Leading the group with ears long and funny
Was a plump all-white rabbit…
That’s right…the EASTER BUNNY!

The bunnies hopped past, one, two , three, four,
The rabbit called out and then there were more.

“Come Peter! Come, Flopsy! Come, Benny! Come, Joe!
Now hop along! Hop along! Hop along! GO!”

So up on each doorstep the bunnies did hop,
With baskets of eggs. (Let’s hope they don’t drop)!

Just at that moment, on the porch down below,
Came the stomping of feet ‘Twas the rabbit I know!

As I stepped from my window I heard a loud sound.
Through the door came the rabbit with a leap and a bound.

He was furry and soft from his head to his feet.
To see him so close was really quite neat.

He was surrounded by eggs that had been carefully dyed.
Easter eggs galore he soon would hide.

His eyes were all twinkles, His nose was so pink,
And I can’t be too sure but I think he did wink.

He had a kind face and a big fluffy tail
That bobbed up and down like a boat with a sail.

A twitch of his nose and a flick of his ear
Was his way of saying “You’ve nothing to fear.”

He uttered no sound as he hopped all about,
Hiding the eggs and leaving no doubt,

That the Easter Bunny had come like he does every year…
Bringing baskets of happiness to children so dear.

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Take Off the Grave Clothes

alarmclock2.jpg
Her name was Carol. She was the organist at her church. She was an outstanding musician, but she did something no organist should ever do. She overslept on Easter morning and missed the sunrise service. She was so embarrassed. Of course, the minister and the church forgave her. They teased her about it a little, but it was done lovingly and in good fun.

However, the next Easter, her phone rang at 5:O0 in the morning. Jolted awake by the loud ringing, she scrambled to answer it. It was the minister, and he said, “Carol, its Easter morning The Lord is risen! . . . And I suggest you do the same!”

The message is clear: We too can be resurrected. Christ shares his resurrection with us. He rises, and so can we. We too can have new life. We too can make a new start. We too can rise out of those tombs that try to imprison us!

Source: James W. Moore, Some Things Are Too Good Not To Be True, Dimensions, 1994, p. 74.

 

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What if

What if,
GOD couldn’t take the time to bless us today because
we couldn’t take the time to thank Him yesterday?

What if,
GOD decided to stop leading us tomorrow because
we didn’t follow Him today?

What if,
we never saw another flower bloom because
we grumbled when GOD sent the rain?

What if,
GOD didn’t walk with us today because
we failed to recognize it as His day?

What if,
GOD took away the Bible tomorrow because
we would not read it today?

What if,
GOD took away His message because
we failed to listen to the messenger?

What if,
GOD didn’t send His only begotten Son because
He wanted us to be prepared to pay the price for sin.

What if,
the door of the church was closed because
we did not open the door of our heart?

What if,
GOD stopped loving and caring for us because
we failed to love and care for others?

What if,
GOD would not hear us today because
we would not listen to Him yesterday?

What if,
GOD answered our prayers the way
we answer His call to service?

What if,
GOD met our needs the way
we give Him our lives???


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The Weaver

My life is but a weaving
Between my Lord and me,
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.
Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I, the underside.
Not till the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.
The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver’s skillful hand
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.


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Watch His Ways

When God wants to drill a man,
And thrill a man, And skill a man,
When God wants to mold a man
To play the noblest part;
When He yearns with all His heart
To create so great and bold a man
That all the world shall be amazed,
Watch His methods, watch His ways!
How He ruthlessly perfects
Whom He royally elects!
How He hammers him and hurts him,
And with mighty blows converts him
Into trial shapes of clay which
Only God understands;
While his tortured heart is crying
And he lifts beseeching hands!
How He bends but never breaks
When his good He undertakes;
How He uses whom He chooses,
And with every purpose fuses him;
By every act induces him
To try His splendor out–
God knows what He’s about.


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The Water Jar

“Then the woman left her water jar and went back into the city. She told the people, ‘Come with me, and meet a man who told me everything I’ve ever done. Could he be the Messiah?’ ”
-John 4:28,29

“Don’t miss the drama of the moment. Look at her eyes, wide with amazement. Listen to her as she struggles for words…And watch as she scrambles to her feet, takes one last look at the grinning Nazarene, turns and runs right into the burly chest of Peter…

Did you notice what she forgot? She forgot her water jar. She left behind the jug that had caused the sag in her shoulders. She left behind the burden she brought.

Suddenly the shame of the tattered romances disappeared. Suddenly the insignificance of her life was swallowed by the significance of the moment. ‘God is here! God has come! God cares…for me!’

That is why she forgot her water jar. That is why she ran to the city. That is why she grabbed the first person she saw and announced her discovery, ‘I just talked to a man who knows everything I ever did…and he loves me anyway!’

The disciples offered Jesus some food. He refused it–he was too excited! He had just done what he does best. He had taken a life that was drifting and given it direction.”

Author: Max Lucado
Source: “Six Hours One Friday”


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Church Bells

Massena, one of Napoleon’s generals, suddenly appeared with 18,000 soldiers before an Austrian town which had no means of defending itself. The town council met, certain that capitulation was the only answer. The old dean of the church reminded the council that it was Easter, and begged them to hold services as usual and to leave the trouble in God’s hands. They followed his advice. The dean went to the church and rang the bells to announce the service. The French soldiers heard the church bells ring and concluded that the Austrian army had come to rescue the town. They broke camp, and before the bells had ceased ringing, vanished.

Source: Unknown

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The Empty Egg

eastereggs.jpgSpring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg. “Now,” she said to them “I want you to take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do you understand?” “Yes, Miss Miller!” the children responded enthusiastically – all except for Jeremy. He just listened intently, his eyes never left her face. He did not even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about Jesus’ death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them.

That evening, Doris’ kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy’s parents.

The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller’s desk. After they completed their Math lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In the first egg, Doris found a flower. “Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life,” she said. “When plants peek through the ground we know that spring is here.” A small girl in the first row waved her arms. “That’s my egg, Miss Miller,” she called out. The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. “We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes that is new life, too” Little Judy smiled proudly and said, “Miss Miller, that one is mine.” Next Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that the moss, too, showed life. Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom. “My Daddy helped me!” he beamed.

Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty! Surely it must be Jeremy’s, she thought, and, of course, he did not understand her instructions. If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another. Suddenly Jeremy spoke up. “Miss Miller, aren’t you going to talk about my egg?” Flustered, Doris replied, “but Jeremy – your egg is empty!” He looked into her eyes and said softly, “Yes, but Jesus’ tomb was empty, too!”

Time stopped. When she could speak again. Doris asked him, ” Do you know why the tomb was empty?” “Oh yes!” Jeremy exclaimed. “Jesus was killed and put in there. Then his Father raised him up!” The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the school yard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away.

Three months later Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket, all of them empty.

Source: Unknown

 

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Joseph’s Tomb

“WHY?” No doubt this was the questions Jesus’ disciples asked when He was arrested, tried, and crucified. And it was probably the question Joseph of Arimathea asked himself as he approached Pilate and requested the Lord’s body (v.58). It must have nagged at him as he wrapped the body in a linen cloth, carried it to his own freshly hewn tomb, and rolled the massive stone into its groove over the tomb’s mouth. In the face of his grief, Joseph carried on. He did what he knew he had to do. None of Jesus’ relatives were in a position to claim His body for burial, for they were all Galileans and none of them possessed a tomb in Jerusalem. The disciples weren’t around to help either.But there was another reason for Joseph’s act of love. In Isaiah 53:9, God directed the prophet to record an important detail about the death of His Messiah. The One who had no place to lay His head would be buried in a rich man’s tomb. Joseph probably didn’t realize that his act fulfilled prophecy. The full answer to the why of Jesus’ death was also several days away for Joseph and the others. All he knew was that he was now a disciple of Jesus — and that was enough to motivate his gift of love.

Source: Today in the Word, April 18, 1992


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If You Think

“If you think you are beaten, you are.
If you think you dare not, you don’t!
If you want to win, but think you can’t,
It’s almost a cinch you won’t.

If you think you’ll lose, you’re lost;
For out in the world we find
Success begins with a person’s will;
It’s all in the state of mind.”

Author: Walter Winkle
Source: Unknown

 


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I Can’t

tuna.jpgMy one and a half year old daghter has picked up a new phrase “I can’t” which really means I won’t. Often times in our lives we are called upon by the Lord to display a committment that doesn’t say I can’t but how can I?

I read this story in our local newpaper a few years ago. In the seaside town of Provincetown, MA, on Cape Cod a man and his wife were sitting on their porch over looking the ocean when the man noticed a disturbence in the water just a few feet from their house. At first he assumed it was a school of blues that had traveled to close to shore and were in a feeding frenzy.

 

But upon closer examination he noticed it was actually one large fish, a shark perhaps, since they are not uncommon in these waters. But as he stared he made out the distinct shape of a large Tuna with it’s characteristic forked tail. Knowing that these fish weigh hundreds of pounds and can fetch thousands of dollars, he wondered how he might catch it. He returned to his porch and found an old rope from a lobster pot. He fashioned the rope into a lasso and set out for the water. On his second attempt he was able to throw the lasso around the forked tail of the Tuna and drag it into shore. A few phone calls later and the fish was off to market.

How diligently we sieze the opportunities that God sends our way inlarge amount will determine what we accomplish while on this earth and what praise we will recieve from His lips in heaven.

Author: Ben Feldott
Source: Unknown

 


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Egg or Potato?

potato.jpgBillie Wilcox, on the lessons of a disaster: While my husband Frank and I were living in Pakistan many years ago, our six-month-old baby died. An old Punjabi who heard of our grief came to comfort us. “A tragedy like this is similar to being plunged into boiling water,” he explained. “If you are an egg, your affliction will make you hard-boiled and unresponsive. If you are a potato, you will emerge soft and pliable, resilient and adaptable.” It may sound funny to God, but there have been times when I have prayed, “O Lord, let me be a potato.”

Source: Guideposts Magazine

 


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Who’s in Control

door.jpgOnce there was this very wealthy young man. He lived in a great, elaborate house with dozens of rooms. Each room was more comfortable and more beautiful than the one before it. There were paintings and sculptures. Crystal chandeliers, golden, ornate railings on the stairs. More beauty that most have ever seen.

One day he decided to invite the Lord to home and stay with him. When the Lord arrived, this young man offered him the very best room in the house. The room was upstairs and at the end of the hall.

“This room is yours, Jesus! Stay as long as you like and you can do whatever you want to in this room, remember Jesus, its all yours.”

“Thank you” the Lord replied, and with that the man shut the door and went about his daily business. That evening after he had retired for the night there came a loud knocking at the front door. The young man pulled on his robe and made his way downstairs.

When he opened the door he found that the devil had sent three of his demons to attack the man. He quickly tried to close the door but none of the demons kept sticking his foot in the door.

Sometime later, after a great struggle, he managed to slam the door shut and returned to his room totally exhausted.

Can you believe that! The man thought. Jesus is upstairs in my very best room sleeping while I am down here battling demons.

Oh, well, maybe he just didn’t hear. He slept fitfully that night.

The next day things went along as normal and, being tired as he was, the young man retired early that evening.

Along about midnight, there came such a terrible ruckus at the front door that the young man was sure that whatever it was would tear the door down. He stumbled down the stairs once again and opened the door to find that there were dozens of demons now trying to get into his beautiful home.

For more than three hours he fought and struggled against the demons from hell and finally overtook them enough to shut the door against their attack. All energy seemed to fail him.

I really don’t understand this at all. Why won’t the Lord come to my rescue? Why does he allow me to fight all by myself? I feel so alone. Troubled he found his way to the sofa and fell into a restless sleep.

The next morning he decided to inquire of the Lord about the happenings of the last two evenings. Quietly he made his way to the elegant bedroom where he had left Jesus. “Jesus,” he called as he tapped at the door. “Lord, I don’t understand what is happening. For the last two nights I have had to fight the demons away from my door while you laid up here sleeping. Don’t you care about me?

Did I not give you the very best room in house? He could see the tears building in Jesus’ eyes but continued on, “I just don’t understand. I really thought that once I invited you in to live with me that you would take care of me and I gave you the best room in my house and everything.

What more can I do?” “My precious child,” Jesus spoke so softly. ” I do love and care for you. I protect all that you have released into my care. But when you invited me to come here and stay, you brought me to this lovely room and you shut the door to the rest of your house.

I am Lord of this room but I am not Master of this house I have protected this room and no demon may enter here.”

“Oh, Lord, please forgive me. Take all of my house – it is yours I am so sorry that I never offered you all to begin with. I want you to have control of everything.”

With this he flung open the bedroom door and knelt at Jesus’ feet. “Please forgive me Lord for being so selfish.” Jesus smiled and told him that He had already forgiven him and that He would take care of things from now on.

That night the young man prepared for bed he thought to himself, ” I wonder if those demons will return. I am so tired of fighting them each and every night.” But he knew that Jesus said that he would take care of things from now on..

Along about midnight the banging on the door was frightening. The young man slipped out of his room in time to see Jesus going down the stairs. He watched in awe as Jesus swung open the door, no need to be afraid.

Satan stood at the door this time demanding to be let in. “What do you want, satan?” the Lord asked. The devil bowed low in the presence of the Lord, “So sorry, I seem to have gotten the wrong address.” And with that, he and the demons all ran away.

There is a moral to this tale. Jesus wants all of you, not just a part. He will take all that you give Him but nothing more. How much of your heart have you given to the Lord? Are you keeping a portion of it away from Him? Perhaps the attacks are coming more and more each day. Why not let the Lord fight the battles for you. He is always victorious.


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Worry Box

J. Arthur Rank, an English executive, decided to do all his worrying on one day each week. He chose Wednesdays. When anything happened that gave him anxiety and annoyed his ulcer, he would write it down and put it in his worry box and forget about it until next Wednesday. The interesting thing was that on the following Wednesday when he opened his worry box, he found that most of the things that had disturbed him the past six days were already settled. It would have been useless to have worried about them.


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Wings of Eagles

eagles.jpg“The strength of those who wait with hope in the Lord will be renewed. They will soar on wings like eagles.” — Isaiah 40:31a

“Our souls were made to ‘mount up with wings’ and can never be satisfied with anything short of flying. Like the captive-born eagle that feels the instinct of flight, and chafes and frets at its imprisonment, hardly knowing what it longs for, so do our souls cry out for freedom. We can never rest on earth, and long to ‘fly away’ from all that so holds and hampers and imprisons us here.

We might name our wings Surrender and Trust. By these, we are carried into a spiritual plane of the ‘life hid with Christ in God,’ a life utterly independent of circumstances, that no cage can imprison and no shackles bind…

Why do not all Christians always triumph? They do not ‘mount up with wings,’ but live on the same low level with their circumstances, powerless against trials and sorrows, overcome by and crushed under them…

The largest wings cannot lift a bird one inch upward unless they are used. We must use the wings we already have: Surrender and Trust, or they will avail us nothing. From high places we shall see things through the eye of Christ that change our lives! Instead of stirring up strife and bitterness, we will escape by simply spreading our wings and mounting up to where our eyes see all things covered with a mantle of Christian love and pity.

The mother eagle teaches her little ones to fly by making their nest so uncomfortable they are forced to leave and commit themselves to the unknown world of air outside. God stirs up our comfortable nests and pushes us over the edge, forcing us to use our wings to save ourselves from fatal falling…

The promise is sure: ‘They that wait upon the Lord SHALL mount up with wings as eagles.’ Not ‘may perhaps mount up’ but ‘SHALL’…

Author: Hannah Whitall Smith
Source: The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life


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Dear Mommy

[Caution: This is a somewhat graphic look at abortion through the eyes of the aborted child]

Dear Mommy,

I am in Heaven now, sitting on God’s lap. He loves me and cries with me; for my heart has been broken.
I so wanted to be your little girl. I don’t quite understand what has happened. I was so excited when I began realizing my existence.

I was in a dark, yet comfortable place. I saw I had fingers and toes. I was pretty far along in my developing, yet not near ready to leave my surroundings. I spent most of my time thinking or sleeping. Even from my earliest days, I felt a special bonding between you and me. Sometimes I heard you crying and I cried with you. Sometimes you would yell or scream, then cry. I heard Daddy yelling back. I was sad,and hoped you would be better soon. I wondered why you cried so much. One day you cried almost all of the day. I hurt for you. I couldn’t imagine why you were so unhappy.

That same day, the most horrible thing happened. A very mean monster came into that warm, comfortable place I was in. I was so scared, I began screaming, but there was no sound. I guess they had you all pinned down because you never once tried to help me. Maybe you never heard me. The monster got closer and closer as I was screaming and screaming, “Mommy, Mommy, help me please; Mommy, help me.” Complete terror is all I felt. I screamed and screamed until I thought I couldn’t anymore.

Then the monster started ripping my arm off. It hurt so bad; the pain I can never explain. It didn’t stop. Oh, how I begged it to stop. I screamed in horror as it ripped my leg off. Though I was in such complete pain, I realized I was dying. I knew I would never see your face or hear you say how much you love me. I wanted to make all your tears go away. I had so many plans to make you happy. Now I couldn’t; all my were shattered. Though I was in utter pain and horror, I felt the pain of my heart breaking, above all.

I wanted more than anything; to be your daughter. No use now, for I was dying a painful death. I could only imagine that terrible things they had done to you. I wanted to tell you that I love you before I was gone, but I didn’t know the words you could understand. And soon no longer I had the breath to say them; I was dead.

I felt myself rising. I was being carried by a huge angel into a big, beautiful place. I was still crying, but the physical pain was gone. The angel took me to Jesus and set me on His lap. He said :”He loved me, and He was my Father.” Then I was happy. I asked Him what the thing was that killed me. He answered, “Abortion. I am sorry, my child; for I know how it feels.”

I don’t know what abortion is; I guess that’s the name of the monster. I’m writing to say that I love you and to tell you how much I wanted to be your little girl. I tried very hard to live. I wanted to live. I had the will, but I couldn’t; the monster was too powerful. It sucked my arms and legs off and finally got all of me. It was impossible to live. I just wanted you to know I tried to stay with you. I didn’t want to die.

Also, Mommy, please watch out for that abortion monster. Mommy, I love you and I would hate for you to go through the kind of pain I did. Please be careful.

Love,
Your baby girl

Source: circulating email


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10 Little Christians

cross.jpg10 little Christians standing in line.
1 disliked the preacher, then there were 9.

9 little Christians stayed up very late.
1 overslept Sunday, then there were 8.

8 little Christians on their way to Heaven.
1 took the low road and then there were 7.

7 little Christians chirping like chicks.
1 disliked music, then there were 6.

6 little Christians seemed very much alive,
but one lost his interest then there was 5.

5 little Christians pulling for Heaven’s Shore,
but one stopped to rest, then there were 4

4 little Christians each busy as a bee.
1 got his feelings hurt, then there were 3

3 little Christians knew not what to do.
1 joined the sporty crowd, then there were 2

2 little Christians, our rhyme is nearly done,
differed with each other, then there was 1

1 little Christian can’t do much ’tis true,
brought his friend to bible study, then there were 2

2 earnest Christians, each won one more.
That doubled the number, then there were 4

4 sincere Christians worked early and late.
Each won another then there were 8

8 splendid Christians if they doubled as before.
In just so many Sundays, we’d have 1,024

In this little jingle, there is a lesson true,
you belong either to the building or to the wrecking crew!


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Baby Rules

baby_bottles.jpgA person who is “born again” starts a new life similar to that of a newborn infant. Seven rules that promote good health in babies can be adapted and applied to a Christian’s spiritual growth.

1. Daily Food.
Take in the “pure milk of the word” through study and meditation.

2. Fresh Air.
Pray often or you will faint. Prayer is the oxygen of the soul.

3. Regular Exercise.
Put into practice what you learn in God’s Word.

4. Adequate Rest.
Rely on God at all times in simple faith.

5. Clean Surroundings.
Avoid evil company and whatever will weaken you spiritually.

6. Loving Care.
Be part of a church where you will benefit from a pastor’s teaching and Christian fellowship.

7. Periodic Checkups.
Regularly examine your spiritual health.


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Carrying the Burden

A young Buddhist monk walked with an elder monk on their way back to their temple after several days of travel. On the way, they came to a creek bed, the banks of which had softened to a wet, slushy mess. At the edge of the creek stood an attractive young woman dressed in traditional gowns, who was obviously wanting to cross the water but had no idea how to contend with the mud. If she attempted to traverse it, her legs would surely sink shin-deep into the muck.

As they approached the young lady, the younger monk averted his eyes and looked down, for theirs was a stern discipline, and monks were not allowed to gaze upon a woman, let alone speak to or interact with her, particularly when the woman was as fetching and young as this one. To his horror, however, the older monk walked straight toward the woman and asked her if she needed to cross. The woman shyly said yes, and without another word, he hoisted her piggy-style onto his back and carried the woman across the creek. The younger monk followed them
across the creek, stunned. Once on the other side, the woman thanked her new friend profusely, shook his hand, and resumed her journey, disappearing into the trees.

The young man was aghast, but respectful of his elder, he held his tongue. For three hours they walked side by side, all the while the student confused as to how his companion could so flagrantly violate one of the most cardinal rules of their temple. The older one had, after all, not only engaged the woman, he had spoken to her, and then not only did he touch her, he carried her on his back! How could such a thing be justified?!

For another hour they walked in total silence, and finally came the point when the young man could stand it no longer. He stepped forward two paces and then whirled on his walking companion to face him in anger. “How could you do that?!” he shouted.

“Do what?” asked the older monk, looking at him.

He rolled his eyes. “It is a sin to touch a woman, a violation to even gaze upon her, and yet you spoke with her. You you shook her hand!” He sputtered in his anger. “You carried her across the creek! YOU CARRIED HER!!”

“And you still carry her,” said his older friend, smiling the faintest of smiles and bowing slightly. “I left her back at the river.”


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Burning Heart

“We need to learn this secret of the burning heart. Suddenly Jesus appears to us, fires are set ablaze, and we are given wonderful visions; but then we must learn to maintain the secret of the burning heart–a heart that can go through anything. It is the simple, dreary day, with its commonplace duties and people, that smothers the burning heart–unless we have learned the secret of abiding in Jesus…”

“When He was at the table with them, He took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized Him, and He disappeared from their sight. They asked each other, ‘Were not our hearts burning within us while He talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?’ – Luke 24:13-33

 


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Girl with the Rose

valentine_rose.jpgJohn Blanchard stood up from the bench, straightened his Army uniform, and studied the crowd of people making their way through Grand Central Station. He looked for the girl whose heart he knew, but whose face he didn’t, the girl with the rose. His interest in her had begun thirteen months before in a Florida library.

Taking a book off the shelf he found himself intrigued, not with the words of the book, but with the notes penciled in the margin. The soft handwriting reflected a thoughtful soul and insightful mind. In the front of the book, he discovered the previous owner’s name, Miss Hollis Maynell.

With time and effort he located her address. She lived in New York City. He wrote her a letter introducing himself and inviting her to correspond. The next day he was shipped overseas for service in World War II. During the next year and one month the two grew to know each other through the mail. Each letter was a seed falling on a fertile heart. A romance was budding.

Blanchard requested a photograph, but she refused. She felt that if he really cared, it wouldn’t matter what she looked like. When the day finally came for him to return from Europe, they scheduled their first meeting – 7:00 PM at the Grand Central Station in New York.

“You’ll recognize me,” she wrote, “by the red rose I’ll be wearing on my lapel.” So at 7:00 he was in the station looking for a girl whose heart he loved, but whose face he’d never seen.

I’ll let Mr. Blanchard tell you what happened:

A young woman was coming toward me, her figure long and slim. Her blonde hair lay back in curls from her delicate ears; her eyes were blue as flowers. Her lips and chin had a gentle firmness, and in her pale green suit she was like springtime come alive. I started toward her, entirely forgetting to notice that she was not wearing a rose. As I moved, a small, provocative smile curved her lips. “Going my way, sailor?” she murmured.

Almost uncontrollably I made one step closer to her, and then I saw Hollis Maynell. She was standing almost directly behind the girl. A woman well past 40, she had graying hair tucked under a worn hat. She was more than plump, her thick-ankled feet thrust into low-heeled shoes. The girl in the green suit was walking quickly away.

I felt as though I was split in two, so keen was my desire to follow her, and yet so deep was my longing for the woman whose spirit had truly companioned me and upheld my own. And there she stood. Her pale, plump face was gentle and sensible, her gray eyes had a warm and kindly twinkle.

I did not hesitate. My fingers gripped the small worn blue leather copy of the book that was to identify me to her. This would not be love, but it would be something precious, something perhaps even better than love, a friendship for which I had been and must ever be grateful. I squared my shoulders and saluted and held out the book to the woman, even though while I spoke I felt choked by the bitterness of my disappointment.

“I’m Lieutenant John Blanchard, and you must be Miss Maynell I am so glad you could meet me; may I take you to dinner?” The woman’s face broadened into a tolerant smile. “I don’t know what this is about, son,” she answered, “but the young lady in the green suit who just went by, she begged me to wear this rose on my coat. And she said if you were to ask me out to dinner, I should go and tell you that she is waiting for you in the big restaurant across the street. She said it was some kind of test!

“It’s not difficult to understand and admire Miss Maynell’s wisdom. The true nature of a heart is seen in its response to the unattractive.

“Tell me whom you love,” Houssaye wrote, “And I will tell you who you are.”

Source: Unknown


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Games and Activities in Celebration of common Holidays.

Creative Holiday Ideas has over 300 pages of ideas to help you plan your next New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Halloween or Fall Festival, and Thanksgiving event. If you’ve ever wondered what you’re going to do for all these holidays and how you’re going to do it, this resource is for you.

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Roses

rosebud.jpgRed roses were her favorites, her name was also Rose.
And every year her husband sent them, tied with pretty bows.
The year he died, the roses were delivered to her door.
The card said, “Be my Valentine”, like all the years before.
Each year he sent her roses, and the note would always say,
“I love you even more this year, than last year on this day.
My love for you will always grow, with every passing year.”
She knew this was the last time that the roses would appear.
She thought, he ordered roses in advance before this day.
Her loving husband did not know, that he would pass away.
He always liked to do things early, way before the time.
Then, if he got too busy, everything would work out fine.
She trimmed the stems, and placed them in a very special vase.
Then, sat the vase beside the portrait of his smiling face.
She would sit for hours, in her husband’s favorite chair.
While staring at his picture, and the roses sitting there.
A year went by, and it was hard to live without her mate.
With loneliness and solitude, that had become her fate.
Then, the very hour, as on Valentines before,
The doorbell rang, and there were roses, sitting by her door.
She brought the roses in, and then just looked at them in shock.
Then, went to get the telephone, to call the florist shop.
The owner answered, and she asked him, if he would explain,
Why would someone do this to her, causing her such pain?
“I know your husband passed away, more than a year ago,”
The owner said, “I knew you’d call, and you would want to know.
The flowers you received today, were paid for in advance.
Your husband always planned ahead, he left nothing to chance.
There is a standing order, that I have on file down here,
And he has paid, well in advance, you’ll get them every year.
There also is another thing, that I think you should know,
He wrote a special little card…he did this years ago.
Then, should ever I find out that he’s no longer here,
That’s the card…that should be sent, to you the following year.”
She thanked him and hung up the phone, her tears now flowing hard.
Her fingers shaking, as she slowly reached to get the card.
Inside the card, she saw that he had written her a note.
Then, as she stared in total silence, this is what he wrote…
“Hello my love, I know it’s been a year since I’ve been gone,
I hope it hasn’t been too hard for you to overcome.
I know it must be lonely, and the pain is very real.
For if it was the other way, I know how I would feel.
The love we shared made everything so beautiful in life.
I loved you more than words can say, you were the perfect wife.
You were my friend and lover, you fulfilled my every need.
I know it’s only been a year, but please try not to grieve.
I want you to be happy, even when you shed your tears.
That is why the roses will be sent to you for years.
When you get these roses, think of all the happiness,
That we had together, and how both of us were blessed.
I have always loved you and I know I always will.
But, my love, you must go on, you have some living still.
Please…try to find happiness, while living out your days.
I know it is not easy, but I hope you find some ways.
The roses will come every year, and they will only stop,
When your door’s not answered, when the florist stops to knock.
He will come five times that day, in case you have gone out.
But after his last visit, he will know without a doubt,
To take the roses to the place, where I’ve instructed him,
And place the roses where we are, together once again.

 


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Games and Activities in Celebration of common Holidays.

Creative Holiday Ideas has over 300 pages of ideas to help you plan your next New Year’s Day, Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Halloween or Fall Festival, and Thanksgiving event. If you’ve ever wondered what you’re going to do for all these holidays and how you’re going to do it, this resource is for you.

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Acting As if

Newspaper columnist and minister George Crane tells of a wife who came into his office full of hatred toward her husband. “I do not only want to get rid of him, I want to get even. Before I divorce him, I want to hurt him as much as he has me.”

Dr. Crane suggested an ingenious plan “Go home and act as if you really love your husband. Tell him how much he means to you. Praise him for every decent trait. Go out of your way to be as kind, considerate, and generous as possible. Spare no efforts to please him, to enjoy him. Make him believe you love him. After you’ve convinced him of your undying love and that you cannot live without him, then drop the bomb. Tell him that your’re getting a divorce. That will really hurt him.” With revenge in her eyes, she smiled and exclaimed, “Beautiful, beautiful. Will he ever be surprised!” And she did it with enthusiasm. Acting “as if.” For two months she showed love, kindness, listening, giving, reinforcing, sharing. When she didn’t return, Crane called. “Are you ready now to go through with the divorce?”

“Divorce?” she exclaimed. “Never! I discovered I really do love him.” Her actions had changed her feelings. Motion resulted in emotion. The ability to love is established not so much by fervent promise as often repeated deeds.

Source: Unknown

 


MORE IDEAS? See “Creative Object Lessons”

200 page e-book that explains everything you need to know when planning your very own object lessons. It contains 90 fully developed object lesson ideas and another 200 object lesson starter ideas based on Biblical idioms and Names / Descriptions of God.

Learn More…