ONE SOLITARY LIFE
He was born in an obscure village. He worked in a carpenter shop
until he was about thirty. He then became an itinerant preacher.
He never held an office. He never had a family or owned a house.
He didn't go to college. He had no credentials but Himself.
After preaching three years, the public turned against Him. His
friends ran away. He was turned over to His enemies and went
through the mockery of a trial. He was nailed to a cross between
two thieves. While He was dying, His executioners gambled for His
clothing, the only property He had on earth. He was laid in a
borrowed grave.
Nineteen centuries have come and gone, and today He is the central
figure of the human race. All the armies tht ever marched, all
the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat,
and all the kings that ever reigned have not affected the life of
man on the earth as much as that One Solitary Life.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
From Lois Peterson From Millie Stackhouse
RECIPE FOR RAISING CHILDREN
Yesterday He helped me, 1 Cup Proverbs 22:6
Today, He did the same-- 2 T. Proverbs 19:18
How long will this continue? Dash Proverbs 23:13
Forever--"Praise His Name!" Pinch Ephesians 6:4
1 tsp. Proverbs 3:5,6
1/2 Cup Titus 2:3-7
1 pound persistence
1 Cup Love
Whip to right consistency
********************
POEMS BY RACHEL OLSON
THE BEE
A bee is engineered so badly
He shouldn't fly, but does so gladly.
The first bee doubtless looked around
And said, "I can't get off the ground!
With my small wings and all of me
I'll never make it to that tree!"
And God said, "Listen bee, to me.
Who said you had to reach that tree?
Just fly around among the flowers
Your business there will keep you hours.
And when you've learned to use your wings
Then you can fly to higher things!"
GOD'S CATHEDRAL
If birds and bees and flowers
Become so common place
They do not make you think of God,
Then meet Him face to face
In one of His great caverns
Where working with lone hand
And little drops of water,
He's fashioned fairyland.
A DREAM COME TRUE
Just toss a dream in your knapsack
And forget that you put it there.
Start over the hills on your journey
But cover your dream with a prayer.
And when you arrive where you're going
Remember--your dream has gone, too.
If your journey's been upward and onward
Behold! Your dream has come true!
HOUSECLEANING
I cleaned my house this morning
And found an awful mess.
I threw away a lot of things
I thought I loved the best:
A worn excuse I'd often use
When there were things to do,
Some plans of my own making
On how to muddle through;
A seat of hate, much used of late,
Some seeds of doubt I'd sown,
My vanity, a lot of sins,
Some fears that I'd outgrown.
And when I looked around the place
I thought it would seem bare,
But lo! my loveseat filled the space
And Christ was sitting there.
Rachel's contribution for a closing thought at the end of the
Morning Clock:
Is your religion your steering wheel or your spare tire?
---------------------------------------------------------------
A LOAF OF BREAD
(from the Joyful Noise, First Christian Reformed Church, Alameda)
Here is a story World Missions received from Ron, Lu, and Rachel
Vander Griend, one of your missionary families in The Philippines.
It's about a loaf of bread --something North Americans take for
granted.
We had whole-wheat bread for breakfast this morning! Not a
startling event for most of you, I'm sure, but let me explain how
it got to our table. My wife, Lu, wrote down her request for
three kilos of flour and gave it to our baby sitter, who went home
and gave it to her neighbor, who in turn took it to work and
dropped it off with the missionary's wife in the next town, who
gave it to her husband, who took it to Manila when he went to his
office on Friday, who gave it to his secretary, she passed it on
to her sister, who gave it to the lady she works for, who is a
member of a grain co-op. The woman graciously filled the order
and the flour came back along the same route. Amazing isn't it?!
Having whole-wheat bread for breakfast isn't really a matter of
availability, but of distribution. The flour is available. There
are just not enough people bringing it around.
After eating the bread we read the Bible. It's the same story,
isn't it!? Christ gave it to the disciples, who passed it on to
their neighbors, who gave it to the merchant who went to Rome, who
passed the news to his cousin, who visited the barbarians in
Flanders, who passed it down to my father--until, finally, it
ended up on my table. It is not a question of availability, but
of distribution. The Word has always been available. There are
just not enough people bringing It around.
Breakfast Greetings from the Vander Griends and from World
Missions! Pray for the Vander Griends the next time you break
bread. And pray that there will be more missionaries to
distribute the Bread of Life to a hungry world.
Compliments ofthe Christian Reformed World Missions 2850 Kalamazoo,
Grand Rapids, MI 49560 CHRIST i SERVE RBBS (616-891-8488)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
YOU CAN'T FOOL GOD!
(aired in June/85 on Omar Andeel's Morning Clock)
Oh, you can fool the hapless public.
You can be a subtle fraud.
You can hide your little meanness-
But you can't fool God!
You can advertise your virtues.
You can self-achievement laud.
You can load yourself with riches-
But you can't fool God!
You can criticize the Bible.
You can be a selfish clod.
You can lie, swear, drink and gamble-
But you can't fool God!
You can magnify your talent.
You can hear the world applaud.
You can boast yourself somebody-
But you can't fool God!!
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
FROM THE COLLECTIONS OF RAE SVEEN
(who, along with her husband, raised four daughters and one son)
SONNET TO A TEENAGE DAUGHTER
My Child, my child, where did I lose my way?
How can I bridge this unexpected gap
Between our lives--when only yesterday
You sought my answers as you sought my lap.
But now you seek the knowledge of your peers--
You seem a stranger I have never known--
Retreating to your diary and your tears,
Insisting you prefer to be alone.
Yet, looking back, I'm sure I turned aside
From my own mother's wisdom at your age;
Not till the day when I became a bride
Did I suspect my mother was a sage...
My child, my child, it's time to realize
That I must let you grow...if I am wise.
-Nova Trimble Ashley
YOU
You got it from your father,
It was all he had to give.
So it's yours to use and cherish,
For as long as you may live.
If you loose the watch he gave you,
It can always be replaced,
But a Black Mark on your Name, Son,
Can never be erased.
It was clean the day you took it,
And a worthy name to bear.
When he got it from his father,
There was no dishonor there.
So make sure you guard it wisely,
After all is said and done,
You'll be glad the name is spotless,
When you give it to your son.
THE LOVELY ALIENS
Oh, Lord, please bless these lovely aliens, my children. They
seem so strange to me at times, not even resembling me in face or
traits or body.
It is sometimes hard to believe that I had anything to do with
producing then--these vigorous strangers going their own way with
such vigor and independence. The fact that I even clothe and care
for them seems an anomaly, as if I am just some loving outsider
attending their needs.
At times I protest this, Lord, I don't want to be an outsider. I
am lonely for the deeper attachments we had when they were small.
I feel a hungry desire to know more truly what they think, to
share their lives.
A kind of righteous indignation rises up, demanding, "See here,
if it weren't for me you wouldn't be here! Pay attention to me,
draw me in. Darn it, I'm your mother."
Then I am reminded of my own blithe, often inconsiderate, youth.
You help me to see that this is nature's way, however cruel, of
cutting natal strings. I cannot carry them forever in my womb, or
on my lap (only in my heart). The burden of it would be
intolerable. For my sake as well as theirs, I've got to let them
alone, let them go.
So bless them as they make these fierce, sometimes foolish,
sometimes faltering strides toward independence. Give them
strength--they're going to need it! Don't let my self-pity sap
their progress. God bless these lovely aliens, my children.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Some of the following poems/thoughts have no known authors to us.
They have been shared from the favorite collections of our
listener/users. Some were cut from newspapers, or seen "some-
where", or told to them by relatives or friends, etc. If anyone
out there can tell us the name of any missing author, we will
happily acknowledge same and add to the end of the poem. And if
you have any poem or thought to leave, please do! We at Family
Radio practice the biblical principal from Matthew 10:8b "Freely
ye have received, freely give."
THANKFULNESS
True gratitude cannot be held
Like water in a cup.
It just flows out in words and deeds
To answer hungry people's needs
And thus it fills them up.
Rachel Olson
RECOMPENSE
Trouble, worry, sorrow, pain-
To cherish these seems odd
Except I know they stretch my soul
And fill it up with God.
Rachel Olson
IN THE SANCTUARY
Dear Lord, you have imposed on me
A grave responsibility.
For how can one be in this place
And not have looked upon your face.
And having seen and learned your way
Then I must live it every day.
Rachel Olson
BLESSINGS
I used to rail against a fate
That overturned my plans;
I'd waste my energy and time
With wails and wringing hands.
But now I look expectantly
When things I'd plan to do
Are changed or even set aside
And do not carry through.
I know that God is telling me
To keep myself in tune
For bigger things He has for me,
Which He can't do alone.
Rachel Olson
RECIPE FOR PRAYER
I made a lovely prayer this week
And had the best results.
It's been a foolproof recipe
For children and adults.
First take what faith you have on hand
A little or a lot.
Now if you find you're out of it
You might as well just stop.
You'll need at least a cup of love
To make the texture right.
Without it prayers are heavy,
and they should be very light.
Now season with humility
Use with a heavy hand.
I once used ego by mistake-
My prayer was pretty bland.
Leaven with expectancy-
You can't get in too much.
The more you use, the better.
It gives that extra touch.
When everything is blended
And ready for the pan
Just drop in the petitions
As quickly as you can.
The secret of this recipe-
And this you must include,
Just as the prayer is rising
You frost with gratitude.
A lot of people that I know
Use all these little tricks.
We're going to have it patented
And call it "Quick Prayer Mix."
Rachel Olson
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Seen on the refrigerator at Carole Ackerman's home: Even if you
are on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there!
(by James Baldwin)
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Jackie Eaton saw this thought posted in the window of a Sonora
shop: If your life is hemmed with prayer, it's less likely to
become unraveled.
THIS PROGRAM HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU BY MINISTRY OF:
SOUTHERN MARYLAND CHRISTIAN INFORMATION SERVICE BBS (SMCIS)
SMCIS
P.O. BOX 463
CALIFORNIA, MD 20619
301/862-3160
300 - 2400 BAUD
24 HOURS DAILY
SYSOP: BUGGS BUGNON
FOR THE WAGES OF SIN IS DEATH, BUT THE GIFT
OF GOD IS ETERNAL LIFE THROUGH JESUS CHRIST,
OUR LORD. ROMANS 6:23
Return to Previous Page