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We have received some very nice forwards, some are
true stories and some are thoughts worth considering. We have posted them here
as we have received them, and have included as much information as we could find
about the sources. Hope you enjoy them as I have! If you have received any good
stories like these please forward them to us and we will try to post as many as
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Seed's E-Mail Stories
The Old Man and the Dog
by Catherine Moore
"Watch out! You nearly broad
sided that car!" My father yelled at me.
"Can't you do anything right?"
Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly
man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my
throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn't prepared for another battle.
"I saw the car, Dad. Please don't yell at me when I'm driving." My voice was
measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.
Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in
front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts. Dark, heavy
clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder
seemed to echo my inner turmoil.
What could I do about him?
Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon . He had enjoyed being
outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of
nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had
placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested
to
his prowess.
The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn't lift a heavy
log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone,
straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his
advancing age, or when he couldn't do something he had done as a younger man.
Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An
ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep
blood and oxygen flowing. At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating
room. He was lucky; he survived.
But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately
refused to follow doctor's orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned
aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally
stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.
My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We
hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust. Within a week
after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was
satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and
moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and
argue. Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The
clergyman set up weekly counseling
appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to
soothe Dad's troubled mind. But the months wore on and God was silent.
Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.
The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of
the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to
each of the sympathetic voices that answered. In vain. Just when I was giving up
hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, "I just
read something that might help you! Let me go get the article." I listened as
she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All
of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their
attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a
dog.
I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a
questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of
disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each
contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs,
spotted dogs They all jumped up, trying to reach me. I studied each one but
rejected one after the other for various reasons. Too big, too small, too much
hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled
to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one
of the dog world's aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed. Years
had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hipbones jutted out in
lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm
and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.
I pointed to the dog. "Can you tell me about him?" The officer looked, then
shook his head in puzzlement.
"He's a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We
brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two
weeks ago and we've heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow." He gestured
helplessly.
As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. "You mean you're going to
kill him?"
"Ma'am," he said gently, "that's our policy. We don't have room for every
unclaimed dog."
I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. "I'll
take him," I said.
I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house
I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled
onto the front porch.
"Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!" I said excitedly.
Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. "If I had wanted a dog I would
have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of
bones. Keep it! I don't want it" Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back
toward the house.
Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into
my temples.
"You'd better get used to him, Dad. He's staying!" Dad ignored me. "Did you
hear me, Dad?" I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands
clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed an d blazing with hate.
We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled
free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then
slowly, carefully, he raised his paw.
Dad's lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced
the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees
hugging the animal.
It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer
Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long
hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of
streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services
together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at his feet.
Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad's
bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I
was startled to feel Cheyenne 's cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He
had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke
Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father's room. Dad lay in his bed, his
face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.
Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying
dead beside Dad's bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on.
As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the
dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad's peace of mind.
The morning of Dad's funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like
the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for
family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made
filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was
a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life. And then the pastor
turned to Hebrews 13:2. "Be not forgetful to entertain strangers."
"I've often thanked God for sending that angel," he said.
For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen
before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article.
Cheyenne 's unexpected appearance at the animal shelter. . .his calm
acceptance and complete devotion to my father. . .and the proximity of their
deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after
all. Life is too short for drama & petty things, so laugh hard,
love truly and forgive quickly. Live While You Are Alive. Tell the people you
love that you love them, at every opportunity. Forgive now those who made you
cry. You might not get a second time.
How Much?
A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass
jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet.
She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times,
even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.
Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped
out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big
red Indian Chief sign above the door.
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was
too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise.
Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster.
No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass
counter. That did it!
"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. I'm
talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without
waiting for a reply to his question
"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Tess answered back in the same
annoyed tone. "He's really, really sick..and I want to buy a miracle."
"I beg your pardon?" said the pharmacist.
"His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my
Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?"
"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the
pharmacist said, softening a little
"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn't enough, I will get the
rest. Just tell me how much it costs."
The pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the
little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"
" I don't know," Tess replied with her eyes welling up. I just know he's really
sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I
want to use my money."
"How much do you have?" asked the man from Chicago
"One dollar and eleven cents," Tess answered barely audibly.
"And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to."
"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "A dollar and eleven cents---the
exact price of a miracle for little brothers. "
He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and
said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your
parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need."
That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in
neuro-surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long
until Andrew was home again and doing well.
Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to
this place.
"That surgery," her Mom whispered. "was a real miracle. I wonder how much it
would have cost?"
Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost...one dollar and eleven
cents....plus the faith of a little child.
The Heart
"Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began, "I'll open up your heart..."
"You'll find Jesus there," the boy interrupted .
The surgeon looked up, annoyed "I'llcut your heart open," he continued, to see
how much damage has been done..."
"But when you open up my heart, you'llfind Jesus in there," said the boy.
The surgeon looked to the parents, who Sat quietly. "When I see how much damage
has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up, and I'll plan what to do
next."
"But you'll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all
say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart."
The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart. I'll
find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I'll find out
if I can make you well."
"You'll find Jesus there too. He lives there."
The surgeon left.
The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery, "...damaged
aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for
transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis:,"
here he paused, "death within one year."
He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud.
"Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and
You've cursed him to an early death. Why?"
The Lord answered and said, "The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for
long, for he is a part of My flock , and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he
will feel no pain, and
will be comforted as you cannot imagine.
His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock
will continue to grow."
The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that
boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in months. Why?"
The Lord answered, "The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for He has Done
his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve
another lost lamb."
The surgeon wept.. The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat
across from him. The boy awoke and whispered , "Did you cut open my heart?"
"Yes," said the surgeon.
"What did you find?" asked the boy.
"I found Jesus there," said the surgeon .
UNEMPLOYED GRADUATE
An unemployed graduate woke up one morning and checked his pocket. All he had
left was $10. He decided to use it to buy food and then wait for death as
he was too proud to go begging. He was frustrated as he could find no job,
and nobody was ready to help him.
He bought food and as he sat down to eat, an old man and two little children
came along and asked him to help them with food as they had not eaten
for almost a week. He looked at them. They were so lean that he could
see their bones coming out. Their eyes had gone into the socket.
With the last bit of compassion he had, he gave them the food. The old
man and
children prayed that God would bless and prosper him and then gave him a
very old coin.
The young graduate said to them "you need the prayer more than I do".
With no money, no job, no food, the young graduate went under the
bridge to
rest and wait for death. As he was about to sleep, he saw an old
newspaper on
the ground. He picked it up, and suddenly he saw an advertisement for people
with old coins to come to a certain address.
He decided to go there with the old coin the old man gave him. On
getting to
the place, he gave the proprietor the coin. The proprietor screamed, brought
out a big book and showed the young graduate a photograph. This same
old coin was worth 3 million dollars. The young graduate was overjoyed
as the proprietor gave him a bank draft for 3 million dollars within
an
hour. He collected the Bank Draft and went in search of the old man
and little
children.
By the time he got to where he left them eating, they had gone. He
asked the
owner of the canteen if he knew them. He said no but they left a note for
you. He quickly opened the note thinking it would lead him to find them.
This is what the note said: "You gave us your all and we have rewarded
you back
with the coin" Signed God the Father, The Son and The Holy Ghost. 1 Kings
17:10-16; Matthew 11:28-30
The Little Soul Winner
Every Sunday afternoon, after the morning service at the church the Pastor and
his eleven year old son would go out into their town and hand out Gospel
Tracts.
This particular Sunday afternoon was very cold as well as pouring down rain.
When it came time for the Pastor and his son to go out, the boy bundled up in
his warmest and driest clothes and said; "OK dad, I'm ready."
His Pastor dad asked, "Ready for what?"
"Dad, it's time we gather our tracts together and go out."
Dad responds, "Son, it's very cold outside and it's pouring down rain."
The boy gives his dad a surprised look, asking "But Dad, aren't people still
going to Hell, even though it's raining?"
Dad answers, "Son, I am not going out in this weather."
Despondently, the boy ask, Dad, can I go? Please? His father hesitated for a
moment then said, "Son, you can go. Here are the tracts, be careful son."
"Thanks Dad!" And with that, he was off and out into the rain.
This eleven year old boy walked the streets of the town going door to door and
handing everybody he met in the street a Gospel Tract. After two hours of
walking in the rain, he was soaking, bone-chilled wet and down to his VERY
LAST TRACT. He stopped on a corner and looked for someone to hand the tract
to, but the streets were totally deserted. Then he turned toward the first
home he saw and started up the sidewalk He rang the bell but nobody answered.
He rang it again and again, but still no one answered. Finally, this eleven
year old trooper turned to leave, but something stopped him! Again, he turned
to the door and rang the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He
waited, something was holding him there on the front porch. He rang again and
this time the door slowly opened. There stood a sad looking elderly lady.
She softly asked "What can I do for you son?"
With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world, this little boy
said :"Ma'am, I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that
JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU and I came to give you my very last Gospel Tract
which will tell you all about JESUS and His great LOVE."
With that, he handed her his last tract and turned to leave. She called to him
as he departed. "Thank you, son! And God Bless You!"
The following Sunday morning in church Pastor Dad was in the pulpit. As the
service began, he asked, "Does anybody have testimony or want to say
anything?"
Slowly, in the back row of the church, an elderly lady stood to her feet. As
she began to speak, a look of glorious radiance came from her face, "No one in
this church knows me. I've never been her before. You see, before last Sunday
I was not a Christian. My husband passed on some time ago, leaving me totally
alone in this world. Last Sunday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, it
was even more so in my heart. I came to the end of the line and no longer had
any hope or will to live. So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the
stairway into the attic of my home. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter
in the roof, then stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope
around my neck.. Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted I was
about to leap off, when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs
startled me. I thought, "I'll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go away."
I waited and waited, but the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more
insistent, and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly. I thought
to myself again, "Who on earth could this be? Nobody ever rings my bell or
comes to see me." I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front
door, all the while the ringing and knocking continued. When I opened the door
and looked I could hardly believe my eyes, for there on my front porch was the
most radiant and angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life. His SMILE, oh,
I could never describe it to you! The words that came from his mouth caused my
heart that had long been dead, TO LEAP TO LIFE as he exclaimed with a
cherub-like voice, "
*Ma'am, I just came to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU." Then he gave
me this gospel Tract that I now hold in my hand. As the little angel
disappeared back out into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read every
word of the Gospel Tract. Then I went up to my attic to get my rope and chair.
I wouldn't be needing them any more. You see- "I am now a Happy Child of the
KING. Since the address of your church was on the back of this Gospel Tract; I
have come here to personally say THANK YOU TO God's little angel who came just
in the nick of time and by so doing, spared my soul from eternity in hell."
There was not a dry eye in the church. And as shouts of praise and honor to
THE KING resounded off the very rafters of the building. Pastor Dad descended
from the pulpit to the front pew where the little angel was seated. He took
his son in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably. Probably no church has had a
more glorious moment, and probably this universe has never seen a Papa that
was more filled with love and honor for his son... Except for One.
This Father also allowed His Son to go out into a cold and dark world. He
received His Son back with unspeakable, joy, as all of heaven shouted praises
and honor to The King. The Father sat His beloved Son on a throne far above
all principality and power and every name that is named.
Blessed are your eyes for reading this message. Don't let it die, read it
again and pass it to others......till we all meet in heaven!
Thanks Wolf for posting this.
The U in JesUs
Before U were thought of or time had begun,
God even stuck U in the name of His Son.
And each time U pray, you'll see it's true
You can't spell out JesUs and not include U.
You're a pretty big part of His wonderful name,
For U, He was born; that's why He came.
And His great love for U is the reason He died.
It even takes U to spell crUcified.
Isn't it thrilling and splendidly grand
He rose from the dead, with U in His plan?
The stones split away, the gold trUmpet blew,
and this word resUrrection is spelled with a U.
When JesUs left earth at His upward ascension,
He felt there was one thing He just had to mention.
"Go into the world and tell them it's true
That I love them all - Just like I love U."
So many great people are spelled with a U,
Don't they have a right to know JesUs too?
It all depends now on what U will do,
He'd like them to know,
But it all starts with U.
Will yoU pass it on.
A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door.
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man.
College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved
clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his
busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to
spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could
stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral
is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he
sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him.
I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing.
He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as
he put it," Mom told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr Belser stepped in to make sure you
had a man's influence in your life," she said
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this
business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he
thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his
hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of
his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the
old house next door one more time.
Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over
into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as
he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of
furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said
"What box?" Mom asked.
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must
have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was
'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it,
except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get
some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work
one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a
package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next
three days," the note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and
looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was
difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold
Belser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package.
There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read
the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's
the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His
heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box.
There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the
cover. Inside he found these words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your time! -Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...my time"
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his
appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!"
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that
take our breath away,"
Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.
1. At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.
2. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.
3. A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like
you.
4. Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.
5. You mean the world to someone.
6. If not for you, someone may not be living.
7. You are special and unique.
8. When you think you have no chance of getting what you want, you probably
won't get it, but if you trust God to do what's best, and wait on His time,
sooner or later, you will get it or something better.
9. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from
it.
10. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most
likely turned your back on the world.
11. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.
12. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude
remarks.
13. Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better
when they know and you'll both be happy.
14.If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are
great.
††† ††† †††
Send this letter to all the people you care about, if you do so, you will
certainly brighten someone's day and might change their perspective on
life...for the better.
To everyone I sent this to "Thanks for your time"
Faith Diversity?
This was
forwarded to me - I thought it was very
Last month I attended
my annual training
During the
training
I
was particularly interested in what the
After the presentations, time was provided for
The
expression on his face changed from one of
He
sheepishly replied, "Yes."
I then
stated, "Well, sir, I have a real
The Imam was
speechless. I continued, "I also have
You could
have heard a pin drop as the Imam hung
This is a
true story and the author, Rick Mathes,
Please pass this on to all your email
contacts
Subject: Caller ID
God works in mysterious
ways, doesn't He?
Isn't it amazing how God works in our lives! On a Saturday
night several weeks ago, this pastor was working late, and decided to call his
wife before he left for home. It was about 10:00 PM, but his wife didn't
answer the phone.
The pastor let the phone ring many times. He
thought it was odd that she didn't answer, but decided to wrap up a few things
and try again in a few minutes. When he tried again she answered right
away. He asked her why she hadn't answered before, and she said that it
hadn't rung at their house. They brushed it off as a fluke and went on their
merry ways.
The following Monday, the pastor received a call at the
church office, which was the phone that he'd used that Saturday
night. The man that he spoke with wanted to know why he'd called on
Saturday night.
The pastor couldn't figure out what the man was talking
about. Then the man
said, "It rang and rang, but I didn't answer." The
pastor remembered the mishap and apologized for disturbing him, explaining that
he'd intended to call his wife.
The man said, "That's, OK. Let me
tell you my story.
You see, I was planning to commit suicide on Saturday
night, but before I did, I prayed, 'God if you're there, and you don't want me
to do this, give me a sign now.' At that point my phone started to ring. I
looked at the caller ID, and it said, 'Almighty God'. I was afraid to
answer!"
The reason why it showed on the man's caller ID that the call
came from "Almighty God" is because the church that the pastor attends is called
Almighty God Tabernacle!
Who say's that God
doesn't answers prayers. God bless!
This story is of something that was alleged to have happened just a few years ago at USC.
There was a professor of philosophy who was a
deeply committed atheist. His primary goal for the required class was to spend
the entire semester attempting to prove that God couldn't exist. His students
were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable logic. For twenty
years, he had taught this class and no one had the courage to go against him.
Sure, some had argued in class at times, but no one had ever really gone against
him because of his reputation. At the end of every semester on the last day, he
would say to his class of 300 students, "If there is anyone here who still
believes in Jesus, stand up." In twenty years, no one had ever stood up. They
knew what he was going to do next. He would say, "Because anyone who believes in
God is a fool. If God existed, he could stop this piece of chalk from hitting
the ground and breaking. Such a simple thing to prove that He is God, and yet He
can't do it." And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile of the
classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces. All of the students would
do nothing but stop and stare. Most of
the students thought that God couldn't
exist. Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through, but for 20 years,
they had been too afraid to stand up. Well, a few years ago there was a freshman
who happened to enroll. He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about his
professor. He was required to take the class for his major, and he was afraid.
But for three months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have
the courage to stand up no matter what the professor
said, or what the class
thought. Nothing they said could ever shatter his faith....he hoped. Finally,
the day came. The professor said, "If there is anyone here who still believes in
God, stand up!" The professor and the class of 300 people looked at him,
shocked, as he stood up at the back of the classroom. The professor shouted,
"You FOOL!!! If God existed he would keep
this piece of chalk from breaking
when it hit the ground!" He proceeded to drop the chalk, but as he did, it
slipped out of
his fingers, off his shirt cuff, onto the pleat of his pants,
down his leg, and off his shoe. As it hit the ground, it simply rolled
away
unbroken. The professor's jaw dropped as he stared at the chalk. He
looked up at the young man, and then ran out of the lecture hall.
The
young man who had stood, proceeded to walk to the front of the room and shared
his faith in Jesus for the next half hour. 300 students stayed and listened as
he told of God's love for them and of His power through Jesus.
One day a while back, a man, his heart heavy with grief, was walking in the woods. As he thought about his life this day, he knew many things were not right. He thought about those who had lied about him back when he had a job.
The man, crying now, answered yes Lord.
The power of prayer From: Bonnie and Kiyoshi Nishakawa
This story was written by a doctor who worked in South Africa.
One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator. (We had no electricity to run an incubator.) We also had no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts.
One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst.
Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed.
As in the West it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.
"All right," I said, "put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. "Your job is to keep the baby warm."
The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby.
I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. "Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon."
While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of a corollary, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?"
As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, "Amen?"! I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything. The Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland.
I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!
Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting.
Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored.
Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas-that would make a batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the..... Could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out -- yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of, the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!"
Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubt it. Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?"
That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child-five months before -- in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon."
"Before they call, I will answer!" Isaiah 65:24
Please share this amazing story with as many others as you can. Our God really IS AN AWESOME GOD!
1 minute prayer
Father, I ask you to bless my friends reading this right now. I am asking You to minister to their spirit at this very moment. Where there is pain, give them Your peace and mercy. Where there is self-doubting, release a renewed confidence in Your ability to work through them. Where there is tiredness, or exhaustion, I ask You to give them understanding, guidance, and strength as they learn submission to your leading.
Where there is spiritual stagnation, I ask You to renew them by revealing Your nearness, and by drawing them into greater intimacy with You. Where there is fear, reveal Your love, and release to them Your courage. Where there is a sin blocking them, reveal it!, and break its hold over my friend's life.
Bless their finances, give them greater vision, and raise up leaders and friends to support and encourage them. Give each of them discernment to recognize the evil forces around them, and reveal to them the power they have in You to defeat it.
I ask You to do these things in Jesus' name.
P.S. Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both. Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something Christ would do.
Lord, let me make a difference for you
that is utterly disproportionate to who I am.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN EASTER?
THE STORY OF EDITH
BURNS...
Edith Burns
was a wonderful Christian who lived in San Antonio, Texas. She was the patient
of a doctor by the name of Will Phillips. Dr. Phillips was a gentle doctor who
saw patients as people. His favorite patient was Edith Burns.
One morning he went to his office with a
heavy heart and it was because of Edith Burns. When he walked into that waiting
room, there sat Edith with her big black Bible in her lap earnestly talking to a
young mother sitting beside her.
Edith Burns had a habit of introducing
herself in this way: "Hello, my name is Edith Burns. Do you believe in Easter?"
Then she would explain the meaning of Easter, and many times people would be
saved.
Dr.
Phillips walked into that office and there he saw the head nurse, Beverly.
Beverly had first met Edith when she was taking her blood pressure. Edith began
by saying, "My name is Edith Burns. Do you believe in
Easter?"
Beverly said, "Why yes I do." Edith said, "Well, what do you believe
about Easter?" Beverly said, "Well,
it's all about egg hunts, going to church, and dressing up." Edith kept pressing
her about the real meaning of Easter, and finally led her to a saving knowledge
of Jesus Christ.
Dr. Phillips said, "Beverly, don't call
Edith into the office quite yet. I believe there is another delivery taking
place in the waiting room.
After being called back in the doctor's
office, Edith sat down and when she took a look at the doctor she said, "Dr.
Will, why are you so sad? Are you reading your Bible? Are you
praying?"
Dr. Phillips said gently, "Edith, I'm
the doctor and you're the patient." With a heavy heart he said, "Your lab report
came back and it says you have cancer, and Edith, you're not going to live very
long."
Edith said, "Why Will Phillips, shame on
you. Why are you so sad? Do you think God makes mistakes? You have just told me
I'm going to see my precious Lord Jesus, my husband, and my friends. You have
just told me that I am going to celebrate Easter Forever, and here you are
having difficulty giving me my ticket!"
Dr. Phillips thought to himself, "What a
magnificent woman this Edith Burns is!" Edith continued coming to Dr. Phillips.
Christmas came and the office was closed through January 3rd. On the day the
office opened, Edith did not show up. Later that afternoon, Edith called Dr.
Phillips and said she would have to be moving her story to the hospital and
said, "Will, I'm very near home, so would you make sure that they put women in
here next to me in my room who need to know
about
Easter."
Well, they did just that and women began
to come in and share that room with Edith. Many women were saved. Everybody on
that floor from staff to patients were so excited about Edith, that they started
calling her Edith Easter; that is everyone except Phyllis Cross, the head
nurse.
Phyllis made it plain that she wanted
nothing to do with Edith because she was a "religious nut". She had been a nurse
in an army hospital. She had seen it all and heard it all. She was the original
G.I. Jane. She had been married three times, she was hard, cold, and did
everything by the book.
One morning the two nurses who were to
attend to Edith were sick. Edith had the flu and Phyllis Cross had to go in and
give her a shot.
When she walked in, Edith had a big
smile on her face and said, "Phyllis, God loves you and I love you, and I have
been praying for you."
Phyllis Cross said, "Well, you can quit
praying for me, it won't work. I'm not interested."
Edith said, "Well, I will pray and I
have asked God not to let me go home until you come into the
family."
Phyllis
Cross said, "Then you will never die because that will never happen," and curtly
walked out of the room.
Every day Phyllis Cross would walk into
the room and Edith would say, "God
loves you Phyllis and I love you, and I'm praying for
you."
One
day Phyllis Cross said she was literally drawn to Edith's room like a magnet
would draw iron. She sat down on the bed and Edith said, "I'm so glad you have
come, because God told me that today is your special
day."
Phyllis Cross said, "Edith, you have
asked everybody here the question, 'Do you believe in Easter?' but you have
never asked me."
Edith said, "Phyllis, I wanted to many
times, but God told me to wait until you asked, and now that you have
asked.."
Edith Burns took her Bible and shared
with Phyllis Cross the Easter Story of the death, burial and resurrection of
Jesus Christ. Edith said, "Phyllis, do you believe in Easter? Do you believe
that Jesus Christ is alive and that He wants to live in your
heart?"
Phyllis Cross said, "Oh I want to
believe that with all of my heart, and I do want Jesus in my life." Right there,
Phyllis Cross prayed and invited Jesus Christ into her heart. For the first time
Phyllis
Cross
did not walk out of a hospital room, she was carried out on the wings of
angels.
Two
days later, Phyllis Cross came in and Edith said, "Do you know what day it is?" Phyllis Cross said,
"Why Edith, it's Good Friday." Edith said, "Oh, no, for you every
day is Easter. Happy Easter Phyllis!"
Two days later, on Easter Sunday,
Phyllis Cross came into work, did some of her duties and then went down to the
flower shop and got some Easter lilies because she wanted to go up to see Edith
and give her some Easter lilies and wish her a Happy
Easter.
When she walked into Edith's room, Edith
was in bed. That big black Bible was on her lap. Her hands were in that Bible.
There was a sweet smile on her face. When Phyllis Cross went to pick up Edith's
hand, she realized Edith was dead. Her left hand was on John 14: "In my Father's
house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and
receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be
also."
Her
right hand was on Revelation 21:4, " And God will wipe away every tear from
their eyes, there shall be no more death nor sorrow, nor crying; and there shall
be no more pain, for the former things have passed
away."
Phyllis Cross took one look at that dead
body, and then lifted her face toward heaven, and with tears streaming down here
cheeks, said, "Happy Easter, Edith - Happy Easter!"
Phyllis Cross left Edith's body, walked
out of the room, and over to a table where two student nurses were sitting. She
said, "My name is Phyllis Cross. Do you believe in
Easter?"
If
you believe in Easter, forward this on. God works in wonderful ways, and to
believe in his power is to truly be free. If Jesus had email, he'd do the same
for you. : )
Saying Grace
Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year- old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!" Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice- cream! Why, I never!" Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer." "Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart," the man replied. Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes." Naturally, I bought my kid's ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word, walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her: "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes; and my soul is good already." I loved this story! Please keep it moving
Cocoon and Butterfly
A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could, and it could go no further. So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily, but it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.
The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time.
Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings..
IT WAS NEVER ABLE TO FLY!
What the man, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If God allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us.
We would not be as strong as we could have been. We could never fly!
I asked for strength......... And God gave me difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for wisdom......... And God gave me problems to solve.
I asked for prosperity......... And God gave me brain and brawn to work.
I asked for courage......... And God gave me danger to overcome.
I asked for love......... And God gave me troubled people to help.
I asked for favors......... And God gave me opportunities.
I received nothing I wanted........ but I received everything I needed!
May God Bless you with unspeakable joy May your path be bright and full of light everywhere you go! May God tell darkness that it must flee at your command. And, I pray your feet will never stumble out of God's plan.
May the desires of your heart come true, And may you experience peace in everything you do May goodness, kindness, and mercy come your way. And, may you gain wisdom and grow everyday.
Space Scientist's Get Answer From The Bible
For all the scientists out there and for all the students who have a
hard time convincing these people regarding the truth of the Bible...here's something that shows God's awesome creation and shows that He is till in control.Did you know that the space program is busy proving that what has
been called "myth" in the Bible is true? Mr. Harold Hill, President of the Curtis Engine Company in Baltimore Maryland and a consultant in the Space Program relates the following development:I think one of the most amazing things that God has for us today
happened recently to our astronauts and space scientists at Greenbelt, Maryland. They were checking the position of the sun, moon, and planets out in space where they would be 100 years ago 1000 years from now.We have
to know this so we won't send a satellite up and have it bump into something later on in its orbits. We have to lay out the orbits in terms of the life of the satellite, and where the planets will be, so the whole thing will not bog down.They ran the computer measurement back and forth over the
centuries and it came to a halt. The computer stopped and put up a red signal, which meant that there was something wrong, either with the information fed into it or with the results as compared to the standards.They called in the service department to check it out and they said,
"What's wrong?" Well, they found there is a day missing in space in elapsed time. They scratched their heads and tore their hair.There was no answer. Finally, a Christian man on the team said,
"You know, one time I was in Sunday School and they talked about the sun standing still." While they didn't believe him, they didn't have an answer either, so they said,"Show us." He got a Bible and went back to the book of Joshua where they found a pretty ridiculous statement for anyone with "common sense."There they found the Lord saying to Joshua, "Fear them not, I have
delivered them into thy hand; there shall not a man of them stand before thee." Joshua was concerned because he was surrounded by the enemy and if darkness fell they would overpower them. So Joshua asked the Lord to make the sun stand still!That's right, "The sun stood still and the moon stayed, and hasted
not to go down about a whole day!" (Joshua 10:12-13) The astronauts and scientists said, "There is the missing day!"They checked the computers going back into the time it was
written and found it was close but not close enough. The elapsed time that was missing back in Joshua's day was 23 hours and 20 minutes--not a whole day. They read the Bible and there it was--"about (approximately) a day." These little words in the Bible are important, but they were still in trouble because if you cannot account for 40 minutes you'll still be in trouble 1,000 years from now.Forty minutes had to be found because it can be multiplied many
times over in orbits. As the Christian employee thought about it, he remembered somewhere in the Bible where it said the sun went BACKWARDS.The scientists told him he was out of his mind, but they got out the
Book and read these words in Second Kings that told of the following story: Hezekiah, on his deathbed, was visited by the prophet Isaiah who told him that he was not going to die. Hezekiah asked for a sign as prophet Isaiah said, "Do you want the sun to go ahead 10 degrees?" Hezekiah said" it is nothing for the sun to go ahead 10 degrees, but let the shadow return backward 10 degrees." Isaiah spoke to the Lord and the Lord brought the shadow ten degrees BACKWARD! Ten degrees is exactly 40 minutes!Twenty-three hours and 20 minutes in Joshua, plus 40 minutes in
Second Kings make the missing day in the universe!" Isn't it amazing?References: Joshua 10:8 and 12,13 and 2 Kings 20:9-11.
Forward this to as many people who you believe would think this is
equally as cool. Never be afraid to try something new. Remember, amateurs built the ark; professionals built the Titanic.
The power of prayer!!
Here's a message that will bring you chills. Have you ever felt the urge to pray for someone and then just put it on a list and said, "I'll pray for them later?" Or has anyone ever called you and said, "I need you to pray for me, I have this need?" Read the following story that was sent to me and may it change the way that you may think about prayer and also the way you pray. You will be blessed by this. A missionary on furlough told this true story while visiting his home church in Michigan....."While serving at a small field hospital in Africa, every two weeks I traveled by bicycle through the jungle to a nearby city for supplies. This was a journey of two days and required camping overnight at the halfway point. On one of these journeys, I arrived in the city where I planned to collect money from a bank, purchase medicine and supplies, and then begin my two-day journey back to the field hospital. Upon arrival in the city, I observed two men fighting, one of whom had been seriously injured. I treated him for his injuries and at the same time talked to him about the Lord Jesus Christ. I then traveled two days, camping overnight, and arrived home without incident. Two weeks later I repeated my journey. Upon arriving in the city, I was approached by the young man I had treated, he told me that he had known I carried money and medicines. He said, 'Some friends and I followed you into the jungle, knowing you would camp overnight. We planned to kill you and take your money and drugs. But just as we were about to move into your camp, we saw that you were surrounded by 26 armed guards." At this I laughed and said that I was certainly all alone in that jungle campsite. The young man pressed the point, however, and said, 'No sir, I was not the only person to see the guards. My five friends also saw them, and we all counted them. It was because of those guards that we were afraid and left you alone.' " At this point in the sermon, one of the men in the congregation jumped to his feet and interrupted the missionary and asked if he could tell him the exact day this happened. The missionary told the congregation the date, and the man who interrupted told him this story: "On the night of your incident in Africa, it was morning here and I was preparing to go play golf. I was about to putt when I felt the urge to pray for you. In fact, the urging of the Lord was so strong, I called men in this church to meet with me here in the sanctuary to pray for you. Would all of those men who met with me on that day stand up?" The men who had met together to pray that day stood up. The missionary wasn't concerned with who they were, he was too busy counting how many men he saw. There were 26. This story is an incredible example of how the Spirit of the Lord moves in mysterious ways. If you ever hear such prodding, go along with it. Nothing is ever hurt by prayer except the gates of hell. I encourage you to forward this to as many people as you know. If we all take it to heart, we can turn this world toward Christ once again. As the above true story clearly illustrates, "with God all things are possible" and more importantly, how God hears and answer the prayers of the faithful. After you read this, please pass it on and give God thanks for the beautiful gift of your faith, for the powerful gift of prayer, and for the many miracles He works in your own daily life... and then pass it on.
THE CENTER OF THE BIBLE:
Did you know that:
1) Psalm 118 is the middle chapter of the entire bible?
2) Psalm 117, before Psalm 118 is the shortest chapter in the bible?
3) Psalm 119, after Psalm 118 is the longest chapter in the bible?
4) The Bible has 594 chapters before Psalm 118 and 594 chapters after
Psalm 118?
5) If you add up all the chapters except Psalm 118, you get a total of
1188 chapters.
6) 1188 or Psalm 118 verse 8 is the middle verse of the entire bible?
Should the central verse not have a fairly important message?
"It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in man." Psalm118:8
Is this central verse not also the central theme of the entire Bible?
You Say, God Says
You say: It's impossible
God says: All thing are possible (Luke
18:27)
You say: I'm too tired
God says: I will give you rest (Matthew
11:28-20)
You say: Nobody really loves me
God says: I love you (John 3:16
& John 13:34)
You say: I can't go on
God says: My grace is sufficient
(IICor.12:9 & Psalm 91:15)
You say: I can't figure things out
God
says: I will direct your steps (Proverbs 3:5-6)
You say: I can't do it
God
says: You can do all things (Phil 4:13)
You say: I'm not able
God says: I
am able (II Cor.9:8)
You say : It's not worth it
God says: It will be
worth it (Romans 8:28)
You say: I can't forgive myself
God says: I forgive
you (I John 1:9 & Romans 8:1)
You say: I can't manage
God says: I will supply all your needs (Phil 4:19)
You say: I'm
afraid
God says: I have not given you a spirit of fear (II Tim.1:7)
You
say: I'm always worried and frustrated
God says: Cast all your cares on ME (I
Peter 5:7)
You say: I don't have enough faith
God says: I've given
everyone a measure of faith (Romans 12:3)
You say: I'm not smart
enough
God says: I give you wisdom (I Cor 1:30)
You say: I feel all
alone
God says: I will never leave you or forsake you (Heb.13:5)
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. It was a cowboy's life, a life for someone who wanted no boss. What I didn't realize was that it was also a ministry. Because I drove the night shift, my cab became a moving confessional. Passengers climbed in, sat behind me in total anonymity, and told me about their lives. I encountered people whose lives amazed me, ennobled me, and made me laugh and weep. But none touched me more than a woman I picked up late one August night. I was responding to a call from a small brick fourplex in a quiet part of town. I assumed I was being sent to pick up some partyers, or someone who had just had a fight with a lover, or a worker heading to an early shift at some factory for the industrial part of town. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware. Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated". "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?" "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly. Oh, I don't mind," she said. I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice." I looked in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long." I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked. For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing. As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, I'm tired. Let's go now." We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair. How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse. "Nothing," I said. "You have to make a living," she answered. "There are other passengers," I responded. Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you." I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life. I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware - beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one. What lies ahead of you and what lies behind you are nothing compared to what lies within you.......
Forwarded to me from a brother - author unknown at this
time
The unexpected package
A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted. As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box.
Curious, and somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold.Angry, he rose his voice to his father and said "With all your money you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of the house.
Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family, but realized his father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him since that graduation day. Before he could make arrangements, he received a telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son.
He needed to come home immediately and take care of things. When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago.
With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. His father had carefully underlined a verse, Matt.7: 11. "If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask Him!"
As he read those words, a set of car keys dropped from the back of the Bible.It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words PAID IN FULL
How many times do we miss our blessings because they are not packaged as we expected ???
E-MAIL FROM Our Daily Bread September 20, 2000
Keeping Track Of Prayers Read: Matthew 7:7-11
We also pray always for you that our God would count you worthy of this calling. 2 Thessalonians 1:11
Bible In One Year: Ecclesiastes 4-6; 2 Corinthians 12 Shortly before Margaret Koster died in 1997, I wrote an article about her, telling of her diligence in prayer. Despite her age, she set an example of faithfulness in prayer-continuing to spend hours each day speaking with the Lord she loved. Now she's reaping the rewards of that faithfulness.
But there's another story about Margaret that needs to be told-a story of how seriously she took her prayer-life. When she was younger, Margaret would pray each day for missionaries she knew about. She also kept a journal of her prayers-complete with answers.
One time when one of "her" missionaries was home from his overseas ministry, Margaret approached him, showed him her journal, and said, "I have recorded every prayer request you made as a missionary. And I have put down every answer that I know of. But I also have some prayers for which I don't know the answers. You need to sit down with me and tell me how God answered those prayers so I can write them down."
Now that's taking prayer seriously! We learn from Margaret not only the importance of prayer but also the reality of God's answers. Remember, "If we ask anything according to His will, He hears us" (1 John 5:14). -JDB
We must call on the Lord with reverence, When we go to Him in prayer; In His time He will send the answers To show us His love and care. -Fitzhugh
If we take God seriously we'll be serious about prayer.
This was written by a teen in
Bagdad, Arizona. This is incredible !!!
Now I sit me down in
school
Where praying is against the rule
For this great nation under God
Finds mention of Him very odd.
If Scripture now the class recites,
It violates the Bill of Rights.
And anytime my head I bow
Becomes a Federal matter now.
Our hair can be purple,
orange or green,
that's no offense; it's a freedom scene.
The law is specific, the law is
precise.
Prayers spoken aloud are a serious vice.
For praying in a public hall
Might offend someone with no faith at
all.
In silence alone we must meditate,
God's name is prohibited by the state.
And pierce our noses, tongues and
cheeks.
They've outlawed guns, but FIRST the
Bible.
To quote the Good Book makes me
liable.
We can elect a pregnant Senior Queen,
And the 'unwed daddy,' our Senior
King.
It's "inappropriate" to teach right from
wrong,
We're taught that such judgments" do not
belong.
Study witchcraft, vampires and totem
poles.
But the Ten Commandments are not
allowed,
It's scary here I must confess,
When chaos reigns the school's a mess.
So, Lord, this silent plea I make:
Should I be shot;
My soul please take!
Amen
WAKE
UP AMERICA
I couldn't believe it. Of all times for this to happen...a flat
tire. But when is a good time for a flat tire? Not when you are wearing a
suit and you have been traveling for nearly five hours and, adding to this bleak
picture, nightfall is approaching. Wait did I mention that I was on a country
road? Okay, now you have the picture. There was only one thing to
do. Call AAA. Yeah, right. The cell phone I bought for security and protection
from moments like this isn't in range to call anyone. "No Service" is
says. No kidding! I sat for a few minutes moaning and
complaining. It's a male thing. Then I began emptying my trunk so that I could
get at the tire and tools needed to get the job done. I carry a large plastic
container filled with what I call "Just-in-case-stuff". When I am training or
speaking I love to have props with me. I hate leaving anything home so I bring
everything...just in case. Cars buzz by me. A few beep sarcastically. I
hear the horn saying "ha ha!" I say, "You'll get yours!" Darkness begins
to settle in. It's becoming a bit difficult to see. The tire is on the passenger
side, thank God, away from all the traffic, but making it difficult to
benefit from the headlights of passing cars. Suddenly a car pulls off the
road behind me. In the blinding light I see a male figure approaching me.
"Hey, do you need any help?" "Well, it certainly isn't easy doing this
with a white dress shirt and suit on," I said. Then he steps into the
light. I literally was frightened. This young guy was dressed in black. Nearly
everything imaginable was pierced and tattooed. His hair was cropped and poorly
cut. He had leather bracelets with spikes on each wrist. "How about I give
you a hand?" he said. "Well, I don't know...I think I can.." "Come
on, it will only take me a few minutes." He took right over. While
watching him I happened to look back at his car and noticed for the first time
someone sitting in the passenger seat. That concerned me. I suddenly felt
outnumbered. Thoughts of car jackings and robberies flashed through my mind. I
really just wanted to get this over and survive it. Then, without warning,
it began to pour. The night sky had hidden the approaching clouds. It hit like a
waterfall and made it impossible to finish the tire change. "Look, my
friend, just stop what you're doing. I appreciate all your help. You better get
going. I'll finish after the rain stops," I said. "Let me help you put
your stuff back in the trunk. It will get ruined," he insisted. "Then get in my
car. We'll wait with you." "No, really. I'll take care of everything," I
said. "You can't get in your car with the jack up like that. It will fall.
Come on. Get in," he said as he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the
car. "Crack! Boom!" Lightening and thunder roared like a freight train. I
literally jumped in his car. "Oh, God protect me!," I thought to
myself. Wet and tired I settled into the back seat. Suddenly a small frail
voice came from the front seat of the car. "Are you alright?", she said as
she turned around to face me. "Yes, I am," I replied with much relief
seeing the old woman there. It must be his Mom. "My name is Beatrice and
this is my neighbor Joey," she said. "He insisted on stopping when he saw you
struggling with the tire." "I am grateful for his help," I said.
"Me, too!" she said with a laugh. "Joey takes me to visit my husband. We had to
place him in a nursing home and it's about 30 minutes away from where I live.
So, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, we have a date." She laughed and shook
her head. "We're the remake of the Odd Couple," Joey said as he joined in
laughing. "Joey, that's incredible what you do for her. I would never have
guessed, well, ah, you know I..." I stumbled with the words. "I know.
People who look like me don't do nice things." he said. Silence. I really
felt uncomfortable. I never believed that I judged people by the way
they dressed. I was angry with myself for being so stupid.
"Joey is a great kid. I'm not the only one he helps. He's a volunteer at our
church. He also works with the kids in the learning center at the low income
housing unit in our town," said Beatrice. "I'm a tutor" Joey said quietly
as he stared at my car. Silence again played a part now in a moment of
reflection rather than the uncomfortable feeling that I had insulted someone. He
was right. What he wore on the outside was a reflection of the world as he saw
it. What he wore on the inside was the spirit of giving, caring and loving the
world he wanted to see. The rain stopped and Joey and I changed the tire.
I tried to offer him money and of course he refused it. As we shook hands
I began to apologize for my stupidity. He said, "I experience that same reaction
often. I actually thought about changing the way I look. But then I saw this as
an opportunity to make a point. So I'll leave you with the same question I ask
everyone who takes time to know me. If Jesus returned tomorrow and walked among
us again would you recognize Him by what He wore or by what He did?" He
walked to his car and as they drove off Beatrice smiled and waved as she began
to laugh again. I could almost hear her saying, "You got another one Joey.
You got another one."
A young man who had been raised as an atheist was
training to be an Olympic diver. The only religious influence in his life came from his outspoken Christian friend. The young diver never really paid much attention to his friend's sermons, but he heard them often.One night the diver went to the indoor pool at the college, he attended. The lights were all off, but as the pool had big skylights and the moon was bright, there was plenty of light to practice by. The young man climbed up to the highest diving board and as he turned his back to the pool on the edge of the board and extended his arms out, he saw his shadow on the wall.
The shadow of his body was in the shape of a cross.
Instead of diving, he knelt down and finally asked God to come into his life.
As the young man stood, a maintenance man walked in and turned the lights on. The pool had been drained for repairs.
Funny
Funny how simple it is
for people to
trash God ...
and then wonder why the
world's going to hell.
Funny how we believe
what the newspapers say,
but
question what
the Bible says.
Funny how everyone
wants to go to heaven
provided
they do not have to believe,
think, say, or do anything the Bible says.
Or
is it scary?
Funny how someone can say
"I believe in God"
but
still follow Satan (who, by
the way, also "believes" in God).
Funny how you can send a thousand
'jokes' through
e-mail
and they spread like wildfire,
but when you start
sending
messages regarding the Lord,
people think twice about
sharing.
Funny how the lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene
pass
freely through
cyberspace,
but the public discussion of Jesus
is
suppressed in the school and workplace.
Funny,
isn't it?
Funny how someone can be so
fired up for Christ on
Sunday,
but be an invisible Christian
the rest of the week.
Are you laughing?
Funny how when you go to
forward this message,
you
will not sent it to many
on your address list because
you're not sure what
they believe,
or what they will think of you
for sending it to
them.
Funny how I can be more worried
about what other
people think of me
than what God thinks of me.
Are you thinking?
Puppies
A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard.
As he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. He looked down into the eyes of a little boy. "Mister," he said, "I want to buy one of your puppies."
"Well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."
The boy dropped his head for a moment. Then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "I've got thirty-nine cents. Is that enough to take a look?" "Sure," said the farmer. And with that he let out a whistle, "Here, Dolly!" he called. Out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran Dolly followed by four little balls of fur.
The little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. His eyes danced with delight.
As the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse.
Slowly another little ball appeared; this one noticeably smaller. Down the ramp it slid. Then in a somewhat awkward manner the little pup began hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up...."I want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt.
The farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "Son, you don't want that puppy. He will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogswould."
With that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers.
In doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe.
Looking back up at the farmer, he said, "You see sir, I don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands."
The world is full of people who need someone who understands.
Take this to heart
(And they call some of these people "retarded")
A few years ago, at the Seattle Special Olympics, nine contestants, all physically or mentally disabled, assembled at the starting line for the 100-yard dash. At the gun, they all started out, not exactly in a dash, but with a relish to run the race to the finish and win. All, that is, except one little boy who stumbled on the asphalt, tumbled over a couple of times, and began to cry. The other eight heard the boy cry. They slowed down and looked back. Then they all turned around and went back. Every one of them. One girl with Down's Syndrome bent down and kissed him and said: "This will make it better." Then all nine linked arms and walked together to the finish line. Everyone in the stadium stood, and the cheering went on for several minutes. People who were there are still telling the story. Why? Because deep down we know this one thing: What matters in this life is more than winning for ourselves. What matters in this life is helping others win, even if it means slowing down and changing our course. Pass it on...we need to change our hearts. rusty63@webtv.net
All Things Work Together For Good - A True Story
The brand new pastor and his wife, newl