WHY SHOUT?

 

Dear loved one,

   

A professor was teaching his students about anger. He asked, why do people shout at each other in anger when they are upset?  The students reasoned, one said we shout because we lose our calm but the professor asked again, why shout when the other person is just next to you?  Isn't it possible to just speak with a soft voice? Why do we have to shout at others when we are angry?" The students gave some other answers but none satisfied the professor. Finally he explained whenever two people are angry at each other, their hearts have psychologically distanced themselves from each other and to cover such distance they must shout to be able to hear each other.  The angrier they become, the harder they will have to shout to hear each other through that great distance. The professor then further asked, what happens when two people fall in love?  They don't shout at each other but talk softly, why?  It is because their hearts are psychologically knitted.  The distance between them is very short.  The professor continued, when they love each other even more, what happens?  They do not speak, but only whisper and the closer they further become in love, they only look at each other to communicate.

So next time you shout at a loved one or a colleague, note that you are indirectly creating a distance between your hearts. The true test of growth in our lives is not always found in what we say, but largely in what we choose NOT to say.  Even though we may have every right to respond harshly to someone who has wronged us personally, please learn to recall how many times you have been spared in spite of your imperfections.  Grace empowers us to approach each day in reflection on things we may have taken for granted.  In appreciation for all that you have been given, choose to give up your right to hold offense against others.  Your capacity to thrive in life will be a direct reflection of your ability to forgive and forget because "Smart people know how to hold their tongue; their grandeur is to forgive and forget".

 

Have a great week!

Shalom!

Can You Sleep When The Wind Blows?

Author: Unknown

 

Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic . They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic , wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received nothing but refusals. Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer.

 

"Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him.

 

"Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man.

 

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.

 

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shook the little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!" The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows."

 

Enraged by the old man's response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired hand meant, and he returned to bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

 

The Moral of The Story Is This! : When you're prepared, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the wind blows through your life? The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he had secured the farm against the storm. We secure ourselves against the storms of life by accepting Jesus Christ as our Savior and by grounding ourselves firmly in the Word of God.

 

***A note from Sherry…

I have one thing to add to the preparation, we also prepare in prayer! I cannot stress how very important I believe prayer to be. The Lord will not say to you, “You didn’t pray yesterday so why bother praying today?” That is the enemy. The Lord just wants you to pray, no matter how long it has been.

 

“What prayer and supplication soever be made by any man, or by all thy people Israel, which shall know every man the plague of his own heart, and spread forth his hands toward this house: Then hear thou in heaven thy dwelling place, and forgive, and do, and give to every man according to his ways, whose heart thou knowest; (for thou, even thou only, knowest the hearts of all the children of men;)” -1 Kings 8:38-39

What Do Angels Look Like?

Author: Janet Seever

A gray blanket of haze hung over Manila . Although it was only 6:30 a.m., the day would be another hot, humid one my blouse was already sticking to me. Dreading the trip ahead, I wished I could make the nightmare of the past few days vanish by closing my eyes.

Weaving through traffic, the Filipino driver was taking my co-worker, Helena, and me to the bus station. Manila traffic was as unnerving now as it had been when our family had arrived in the Philippines five months earlier to do mission work.

I settled back against the seat, my mind whirling with recent events. I hadn't slept well for several nights and my body was running on adrenaline.

My husband, Dennis, had spent several days in the modern Manila Heart Hospital , undergoing tests for shortness of breath and chest pains. Doctors discovered that his previous damage from rheumatic fever twenty years earlier had now doubled.

The cardiologist's words ran through my mind like a continuous tape loop: Atrial fibrillation. Sixty percent leakage past the mitral valve. Congestive heart failure. Fluid in the lungs. A dangerously enlarged heart.

The cardiologist told Dennis he needed surgery within a month, or he would face certain death. Even now she didn't know if the surgery would be successful. She offered no promises, no guarantees.

Today's bus trip would take me back to the little barrio (community) of Lantap, 180 miles north of Manila where we had been learning Ilocano, one of the national languages, for the past five weeks. I needed to pack up all of the belongings we had left behind when we hurriedly came to Manila for Dennis's tests.

My thoughts drifted to Dennis, my husband of ten years, and our two children who were staying in the mission guest house in Manila while I was making my three-day trip. Dennis would be spending his time resting while other people watched Tim, six, and Rachel, three.

Lord, be with them today; keep Dennis safe.

Over the past few days I had looked at dozens of Bible verses on peace and comfort, but God's peace still eluded me. My one question was: would I be a widow at thirty-nine?

“Lord, I know You want me to trust You, but I'm finding it hard. I'm so afraid. Don't let Dennis die.”

 

"I recognize that corner," said Helena , jolting me back to the present. "The bus station will be on our right in about three blocks." She would be traveling back on the same bus with me.

True to Helena 's words, our driver soon pulled into the bus yard. As we got our suitcases out of the trunk, I turned to Helena . "I'm glad you'll be on the bus with me. "

"It's not really a difficult trip once you've made it as many times as I have," said Helena . "The Banaue bus is the one we want." She indicated one in a long line of buses.

Since we were early, we had our choice of seats and found two toward the back.

The 180-mile trip ahead of us would take about eight hours with many stops along the way. The road through the mountains of Luzon had numerous hairpin turns. All scenery along the way looked as if it could be made into picture postcards, but today I wasn't interested in sight seeing.

I closed my eyes, feeling exhausted. I was trying so hard to trust God, but the anxious thoughts kept crowding my mind. “Lord, show me that You are with me in a tangible way. Help me trust You.”

Other passengers were now beginning to fill the bus. I looked up just as two young men entered. One was carrying a guitar and both had a lapel pins. As they came closer, I could see one pin read "Trust God" and the other was a cross within a fish. Were they Christians?

Finding seats directly in front of us, the two men turned around to greet us. They knew English well.

"Are the two of you with SIL?" asked one of the men.

"Yes. How did you know?" I asked, shocked that we could be identified in a city of 20 million people. How had they even heard of SIL, the Bible translation organization with which Helena and I were working?

"You don't look like tourists because you don't have cameras," was the response. "You're not dressed like tourists."

One of the men, a Filipino of Chinese descent, explained he was Pastor Lim from a small church about forty miles beyond where we were going. He had met someone from SIL on a previous bus trip.

Pastor Lim's traveling companion introduced himself as Rogel. He worked with a mission in Banaue.

Helena settled back in her seat with a magazine, while I continued my conversation with Pastor Lim. He said he was the first in his Buddhist family to become a Christian. The rest of his family had rejected him and his choice of occupation.

In answer to his question about my family, I told him my husband and two children were staying in a mission guest house in Manila .

"Why are you traveling alone?" he asked.

"My husband has a serious heart condition. I need to go back and pack up our things." Conversation with this gentle man came easily. "God wants me to trust Him, but I'm afraid my husband might die," I said, wiping tears from my eyes with a tissue.

"God loves you very much and is watching over your family," Pastor Lim replied with certainty. "Your husband will be all right." For the next hour Pastor Lim turned around in his seat and lovingly shared Scripture and words of comfort with me. Then he prayed with me.

God's peace, which had been eluding me, flooded over me. I felt God's presence in this encounter with a stranger in a way I never had before.

Thanks, Lord, for showing me you care for me. I trust You. As I thought about this incident shortly afterward, questions rushed to my mind. Just who were these two men? How did they know who we were? A Bible verse came to mind. "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by doing so some have entertained angels without knowing it" (Hebrews 13:2 NIV). What do angels look like?

When I reached the bamboo house in Lantap, I repacked everything we owned into a crate. Then I returned to Manila by bus three days later.

Because Dennis might die, we returned to the U. S. for the surgery. There we were surrounded by our families.

Heart damage in the U.S. was rated 1 to 4, with 4 being the most serious. Doctors ranked Dennis as 4 plus. However, true to Pastor Lim's prediction, Dennis came through the surgery well. The mechanical heart valve is still working sixteen years later with no further problem.

Over the passing years, I've often thought about the incident on the bus. The strangers seemed as human as I am, but who understands God's ways? Of one thing I am certain it was a God-arranged encounter. My two "angels" came with God's message of love and comfort when I desperately needed it.

"The fear of man bringeth a snare: but whoso putteth his trust in the LORD shall be safe." - Proverbs 29:25

Behold the Birds

(They swooped into my life at the most amazing moments)

Author: Mary Ann O’Roark

Executive Editor - Guideposts

 

Gliding overhead they seemed almost magical to me—the birds of the air, as the Bible calls them. And often, at certain times in my life, they flew in to delight and comfort me when I needed them most. A little girl in West Virginia , I watched as the twittering wrens fluttered in their dust baths next to my grandmother’s porch, and when the first robins arrived in the spring, I crumbled toast for them in the yard. Sprawled under our huge oak tree, I’d gaze upward hoping to glimpse a flash of scarlet—a cardinal—among the leaves. During our summer family gatherings Aunt Marcella and I flipped through her bird books, and one day we both let out a whoop when a rose-breasted grosbeak landed on the porch.

 

You’d think that when I moved to New York City I would have given up having birds in my life. Yet the terrace of my seventeenth-floor apartment was visited by warbling purple finches, cooing mourning doves and an occasional raucous blue jay. Crows squawked on chimneys below, and seagulls sailed by from the Hudson River . City birds, you might say.

 

In 1988 friends and I bought a weekend house in the country. An amazing array of birds congregated at our feeders in the backyard. One incredible spring we looked out to see a gathering of goldfinches and indigo buntings, their colors bright as jewels.

 

It was the black-capped chickadees, though, that touched my heart the most, with their shining eyes, heads of soft black velvet and sweet natures. I’d go out to fill the bird feeder, and the chickadees would flutter down toward me calling “dee dee dee.” I sometimes stayed there for a while, even in the freezing cold, as they came closer and closer, perching on branches barely inches from my head.

 

At Guideposts, I’d often read stories from readers telling how God had sent birds to bring affirmation or peace or comfort just when they needed it. I’d hear from friends, who weren’t particularly sentimental, about how birds had appeared at times of high emotion, cruising by to bless a wedding or christening, or tapping at the window of a grieving mother. Every so often it crossed my mind-as much as I loved birds, why hadn’t I had such experiences?

 

When my friends and I decided to sell our country house in 1999, I knew I’d miss what I’d come to think of as my “country birds.” One of our last evenings there, I went walking at twilight down a path through a cornfield close to the Delaware River . I paused at the top of an incline as the sea of leaves below me began to rustle, then churn. With a mighty beating of wings, perhaps a hundred swallows rose from the field and swept in unison into the sky.

 

A swirling, graceful ballet began that lasted for more than 15 minutes. The swallows surged back and forth across the field, rising up, then skimming down, in elegant, pulsating waves. In the slanting golden light, the air seemed to vibrate along with my soul. Were these birds a congregation here for vespers? Finally, dusk settled, and so did the birds. The flock gave a final low turn, flew off across the river and was lost from sight. I took it as a beautiful benediction to my time spent in this country setting. Rather than regret at having to say good-bye to our house, I was filled with gratitude.

 

I’d read that 280 species of birds had been sighted over the years by devoted watchers peering through binoculars in Manhattan ’s Central Park . Back in the city, I kept hoping I’d see just one of my beloved country birds, but I never did.

 

And then came September 11. I stood numbly on my terrace that day. Above the drifting gulls I saw man-made birds on a darker mission-jet fighters patrolling the city sky.

 

In the weeks that followed, I felt a pervasive unease. I’d been thankful for my life of comfort-water pouring at the turn of a tap, fresh produce heaped in grocery stores, safe surroundings in which to work, opportunities to travel freely. Now my sense of security had been shaken. A dread undermined my joy in the city and the life I loved. I felt ashamed to ask God to help calm my anxiety—when so many others had lost loved ones, who was I to request any special comfort?

 

A month passed. Anthrax was found in Manhattan mailrooms, rumors of more danger circulated. As the weekend of October 13 approached, government officials announced the city was once again on “high alert” for possible terrorist attacks. Saturday morning dawned golden and mild enough for me to open one of my terrace doors. Still I felt almost physically sick with anxiety. I considered breaking a lunch date I had in the neighborhood with a business acquaintance. I could barely muster the energy to go out the door at all, much less carry on a conversation. I just wanted to huddle inside with my cats, Clarence and Sheila. What should I do?

 

Into my mind came a prayer I had taped close to my desk: “Open my heart to the gifts of this day.” Inexplicably, I opened wide my arms and spoke out loud. “Holy Spirit, I need your help. Put me in touch with the strength and joy that remain at the center of each day, no matter how disturbingly the world has been shaken and changed.”

 

There was a rush of air and a whoosh. Through my terrace door swooped a swallow, just like the ones I had seen in the cornfield that glorious twilight evening. The swallow shot across my living room, caromed off my ficus tree and dropped onto the rug. Clarence leaped from a chair, grabbed the swallow in his mouth and raced for the dining room, Sheila in hot pursuit.

 

“Clarence!” I shouted, fumbling to open some windows. In the next instant, just as astonishingly, Clarence opened his mouth and released the bird. For a moment all of us were still. Then the swallow spread its wings, rose from the floor in a graceful arc and swept out the narrow opening of the only window I’d managed to open. I watched as it sailed over the rooftops unhurt.

 

Within a half hour, I ventured out myself. I met my lunch date, blurted out what had happened, and we immediately started pouring out our hearts like old friends, sharing our fears about the future but laughing with the joyful surprises of life as well. When we parted, I impulsively turned down Amsterdam Avenue , a route I never take. Mid-block I paused at a florist shop and nursery. The sidewalk in front was filled with trees and hanging plants, a forest glade amid concrete and traffic.

 

I can’t believe this is here, I thought. Then I heard a delightful “dee dee dee.” It couldn’t be. I gasped as a small bright-eyed bird with a dark velvet head fluttered down on one of the hanging baskets and hopped its way toward me. “A black-capped chickadee!” I cried.

 

“It’s a sign, isn’t it?” a lilting voice said. I turned. The woman beside me came up to my shoulder, had a gentle wrinkly face and curly white hair. Although she wore not a trace of other makeup, under each of her twinkling eyes was painted a line of lovely bluebird blue.

 

“You never see chickadees on the streets of New York City ,” I said.

 

“I know,” she said. “It’s a sign for you, from God.” The chickadee gave a hop and flew up over a lamppost, toward Riverside Park . “Peace and blessings,” the woman said. She walked around the corner and was gone.

 

“Do not be anxious about your life,” Jesus said. “Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap . . . yet your Heavenly Father cares for them.” And in a transcendent flutter of wings, in spite of the world’s uncertainties, I knew that the timeless promise was true.

 

 

“Consider the ravens: for they neither sow nor reap; which neither have storehouse nor barn; and God feedeth them: how much more are ye better than the fowls?” - Luke 12:24

A Father's Blessing

by Dick Innes

 

“Joseph said to his father, "They are my sons, whom God has given me in this place." And he said, "Please bring them to me, and I will bless them" (Genesis 48:9, NIV).

 

Working with people in support groups over a number of years it amazed me how many participants--both men and women—had a father issue. That is, they felt that their father was never or rarely involved in their life either physically and/or emotionally when they were a child and/or a teenager. All of these people have a deep father wound because they never received their father’s affirmation or blessing.

 

Popular author and psychologist, Gary Smalley, lists some key answers received after asking one hundred people how they knew that they had received their father’s blessing. Following are some of the answers he received:

 

1. "My father would put his arm around me at church and let me lay my head on his shoulder."

 

2. "When my father was facing being transferred at work, he purposely took another job so that I could finish my senior year in high school at the same school."

 

3. "When I wrecked my parent's car, my father's first reaction was to hug me and let me cry instead of yelling at me."

 

4. "When I was thirteen, my dad trusted me to use his favorite hunting rifle when I was invited to go hunting with a friend and his father.

 

5. "My father went with me when I had to take back an ugly dress a saleswoman had talked me into buying."

 

6. "My father would let me practice pitching to him for a long time when he got home from work."

 

7. "Even though I had never seen him cry before, my father cried during my wedding because he was going to miss me no longer being at home."

 

For those of us who have had or still have an unresolved father issue we know the pain of missing out on our father’s blessing. For fathers of children/teens who are reading this article, I trust you will realize the crucial role you play in the emotional and spiritual development of your children. With your blessing they have a much greater chance of having a fulfilling life and a healthy marriage and family life. Without your blessing they may, like millions of others, spend the rest of their life seeking love in all the wrong ways and places albeit in an unconscious and desperate attempt to fill the empty place in their heart caused by a lack of their father’s blessing and their subsequent father wound.

 

Suggested prayer (if you have a father wound): “Dear God, thank you for helping me to see that I never received my father’s blessing. Please lead me to the help I need for the healing and recovery of my father wound. (If you are a father):  Please help me to be the father my children need so they will know without a shadow of a doubt that they have my full blessing. Thank you for hearing and answering my prayer. Gratefully, in Jesus’ name, amen.”

 

 

“A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation.” - Psalm 68:5

The Count Imprisoned at Glatz

By Spurgeon, Signs of the Times, February 25, 1936

During the reign of Frederick William III of Prussia , a count who plotted against the king's life was imprisoned in the fortress of Glatz. He was a very irreligious man, but, since the Bible was the only literature available in the dungeon, he began to read it.

The message of the Book touched his heart, and one night while there was a violent storm without, another severe tempest raged within the prisoner's breast. For the first time in his life the love of Christ appealed to the count; he repented of his sinful life, and turned to the Lord with tears of genuine repentance. Arising from his cot to open the Bible, his eyes fell upon the words: "Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me." Psalm 50:15. Kneeling down in his cell in that storm-beaten prison, he called upon the compassionate Saviour, and his troubled soul found peace and deliverance.

That same night in the royal palace at Berlin the king was suffering severe physical pain; and at length in his extremity he pleaded with God to grant him one hour of refreshing sleep. On awakening, he said to his wife: "God has looked upon me very graciously, and I am thankful to Him. Who in my kingdom has wronged me most? I will forgive him."

"The count who is imprisoned at Glatz," replied Queen Louise.

"You are right," said the sick monarch; "let him be pardoned." And with the dawn of day a swift courier was dispatched to Silesia , bearing to the now penitent Christian count the king's full pardon.-By Roy F. Cottrell, Signs of the Times, June 13, 1939.

Quote: "My son, if God has called you to be a missionary, your Father would be grieved to see you shrivel down into a king."

“And the heavens shall declare his righteousness: for God is judge himself. Selah.” –Psalm 50:6

 

Used By God

Author Unknown

There are many reasons why God shouldn't have called you.

But don't worry. You're in good company.

Moses stuttered.
David's armor didn't fit.
John Mark was rejected by Paul.
Timothy had ulcers.
Hosea's wife was a prostitute.
Amos' only training was in the school of fig-tree pruning.
Jacob was a liar.
David had an affair.
Solomon was too rich.
Abraham was too old.
David was too young.
Peter was afraid of death.
Lazarus was dead.
John was self-righteous.
Naomi was a widow.
Paul was a murderer.
So was Moses.
Jonah ran from God.
Miriam was a gossip.
Gideon and Thomas both doubted.
Jeremiah was depressed and suicidal.
Elijah was burned out.
John the Baptist was a loudmouth.
Martha was a worry-wart.
Mary was lazy.
Samson had long hair.
Noah got drunk.
Did I mention that Moses had a short fuse?
So did Peter, Paul--well, lots of folks did.

But God doesn't require a job interview. He doesn't hire and fire like most bosses, because He's more our Dad than our Boss. He doesn't look at financial gain or loss. He's not prejudiced or partial, not judging, grudging, sassy, or brassy, not deaf to our cry, not blind to our need. As much as we try, God's gifts are free. We could do wonderful things for wonderful people and still not be...Wonderful. Satan says, "You're not worthy." Jesus says, "So what? I AM." Satan looks back and sees our mistakes. God looks back and sees the cross. He doesn't calculate what you did in '78. It's not even on the record as long as it is under the Blood. Sure, there are lots of reasons why God shouldn't have called us. But if we are in love with Him, if we hunger for Him more than our next breath, He'll use us in spite of who we are, where we've been, or what we look like. I pray that as Christians, we will step out of our limitations into the limitless nature of who God is. Then our passion for God and our passion to communicate Him will make short work of our limitations.

“Jesus Christ the same yesterday, and to day, and for ever.” -Hebrews 13:8 

Dear God

Author: Bob Perks

 

He had never been away from home this long. The trip he was about to take would find him in cities and towns he had never seen and among perfect strangers.

In the past, if he would be away for even a night, he would always leave special notes and “I love you” cards for his wife to find. A “Sleep well, my love and dream about me!” note card would always grace her pillow.

“Eat a good meal and be careful driving!” would be tucked into her day planner the night before he left. He would always sign them, “Say a prayer for me! I will love you always, Jim”

You see, each night before going to sleep, Jim and Julie knelt beside their bed and would say their prayers together. This special moment was shared even during those times apart. At a designated time each night they would kneel beside the bed and although in two separate locations would say their prayers out loud.

Because he traveled often, on mostly one night stays, they decided to add a special companion to their family. “Buddy,” was a young mixed breed they rescued from the local dog pound. Bright, spirited and loving, Buddy made those overnights a little easier to take. But Buddy would play a very important role in their lives during this extended time away from home.

As usual, the night before he left, Jim wrote and placed his special notes throughout the house. Because of the extended length of time he also managed to mail a few special cards that would arrive almost daily.

On his first day when arriving at the airport, Jim called his wife at work to assure her that he had arrived safely. “I’m fine!” he said. “But I miss you already!” he continued with sadness in his voice.

“I miss you, too! I don’t like that fact that you are so very far away,” Julie told him. “The house will feel so empty without you!”

“Hey, at least you have Buddy!” Jim said laughing. “He has a special present for you. If all goes well, you’ll find out about it tonight when we say our prayers. I need to go now. I still need to drive the rest of the distance to the conference. It’ll take me about four hours to get there. Say a prayer for me, I will always love you!”

It was about 9 p.m. that night and Julie had not yet received a phone call from Jim. He had promised to call when he arrived. At about 9:15 the phone rang.

“Julie, this is Tom. I work with your husband.” the voice on the phone said.

“Is everything okay?” Julie asked.

“Julie, there’s been an accident. I’m with Jim here at the local hospital.” There was a pause. “He’s in bad shape,” Tom said.

“I need to be there!” she immediately responded.

“Julie, it would be best if you waited until morning. There is no way to get you here safely.”

“Will he be alright?” she asked. There was silence. “Will he be alright?” she shouted.

“God will take care of him,” was the reply. He went on to tell her that they had arranged for her to be flown directly to the area first thing in the morning.

As she hung up the phone, the silence was broken by a desperate plea.

“Dear God! Help us!” she screamed.

Buddy, who had been seated by her side, suddenly ran upstairs. Julie thought that she had frightened him. Glancing at the clock she noticed that it was 10 p.m. their designated time for prayer together. Feeling this to be more important than ever, she ran upstairs to say her prayers for his recovery.

As she entered the room, there along side the bed was Buddy. He was sitting with his head bowed and for as long as he could, he kept raising his right paw. He paused for a moment and looked at her. Wagging his tail he ran over to her barking. Julie took her place kneeling beside the bed. “Dear God,” she said. Buddy jumped up, ran over next to her, lowered his head and raised his right paw. Baffled by his response she continued her prayers.

As she pleaded for Jim’s life, Julie happened to glance up and there sticking out from under the covers was a note from Jim. It said, “If you said your prayers tonight with me, you might have noticed Buddy. It took a long time, but I taught him to respond to the words “Dear God.” That way you’d never be alone during our special time.” As always he signed it, “Say a prayer for me. I will always love you, Jim.”

Julie turned toward Buddy and once again repeated, “Dear God.” He returned to the same position, peaking up every once in a while looking for the loving approval he always got from Jim. If tears could make rivers, one would have flowed from that room.

Julie eventually fell asleep lying on the floor next to Buddy. It was about 6 a.m. when the phone rang awakening her abruptly.

“Julie, this is Tom,” she heard a voice say. “Julie, the doctors say Jim will be okay. They have no idea how this all turned around so quickly. It’s a miracle!”

“Dear God!” she said and Buddy, responding to the words, sat down, lowered his head and raised his right paw.

“Amen!”

“O thou that hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh come.” - Psalm 65:2 

What is Your Talent?

Author: Pastor Chuck

“To one he gave five talents [of money], to another two talents and to another one talent, each according to his ability” - Matthew 25:15 NIV

Seems that some people have all the great imagination, and the rest of us have to work hard at it.

Oh, to be like that classic comedian Red Skelton. Or remember the Walt Disney animators — what creativity! One former Disney illustrator is using his talents for Christian videos (his name is Norm McGary). I have a friend — every thing he says seems to be witty. I asked him if he stays up nights thinking about clever sayings. No, he says, it just comes to him. Then there is another friend who at 12 years old played piano with the Buffalo , NY Philharmonic. Yet, she can play contemporary Christian music with the same ease as a Mozart or Beethoven piece. A young woman with a beautiful voice, crystal clear – what a gift. Perfect pitch! Add to all this, the gifted radio preachers (seems like many of them have the first name “Chuck”, too.) What gifts of story telling, profound biblical insights and clear communication skills?

So many gifted people, so many talented, clever and creative. Why does God pick one over the other? How can one rise to the top while others stay in place?

Moses was hand picked by God. When God wanted to send him to do something significant, he had been lollygagging around the desert for 40 years tending sheep – not a real esteem builder by any means. A contemporary of his had risen to power in political circles, making quite a name. But, Moses? Who was he? 40 years, I imagine, leaves you with a bit of a self-image problem. Certainly, he was not like Pharaoh!

It took a couple of interesting "PowerPoint" presentations to get his attention. A burning bush for one! (Exodus 3:4) Then, with tremendous import, God asks the cowering, sniveling sheep - herder, “What’s in your hand?” (Exodus 4:2). Watch out when God asks a question like that. No amount of paranoid introspection can eclipse God when he begins to show His power. What you have within your ability, within reach may, like Moses’ staff, become something far more than you give credit for. That ordinary shepherd’s staff, at once like a snake, but ever like a scepter, became significant in the hands of a man moved by God.

Moses’ staff in his hand was nothing to write home about. The burning bush wasn’t the center - piece of the local arboretum. But, God can use whatever is in our hands if there is a burning in our hearts. It’s not about what you can do, but about what God can do. Why hold back just because you feel you are just plain “ordinary.” The only question Moses had to answer was, “Am I willing to be used by God with what I have and what I am?” Too many people waste their time worrying about what they are not, rather than offering themselves to God with who they are.

What about you? Can God do anything significant through you? Well, he can’t if you don’t offer yourself to him with your talents and skills (however small you think they may be). But, if you are willing, then like the boy with the few loaves and fish, God can meet the needs of many through you. All He wants is a willing heart. Does He have yours?

Prayer: Father, here are my talents please use them for your glory. In the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen!

“Take therefore the talent from him, and give it unto him which hath ten talents.” - Matthew 25:28 

The Horse, The Cow and The Farmer!

Dear loved one,

   

There was a farmer who collects horses and only needed one more breed to complete his collection. One day he discovered that his neighbour had the particular breed. He persuaded him till he sold it. A month later the horse became ill, called the veterinarian, who told him the horse had a virus and must be put on medication for three days. He said if he is not better after those days, we are going to put him to sleep.
 

The cow nearby listened closely to their conversation. They gave the horse the dosage but the cow approached the horse and said be strong my friend, get up or else you are going to put you to sleep after three days! The dosage was given for the second day and the cow came back again and said, come on buddy, get up or else you're going to die. Come on, I will help you get up! One, two, three he encouraged the horse. On the third day after the dosage was administered, the vet said to the owner, unfortunately we are going to have to put him down tomorrow otherwise the virus might spread and infect the other horses. After they left, the cow approached the horse and said, listen pal, it's now or never! Get up! Come on! Have courage! Come on! Get up! That is it, slowly! Great! Come on, one, two, three.  Good! Fantastic! Run! Yes! You did it, you are a champion! All of a sudden, the owner showed up, saw the horse running around in the field and began shouting, this is wonderful, and my horse is cured. This deserves a party. Let's kill the cow!
 

Another Classics but in life, this is no difference we may not truly know who deserves the merit of success in the workplace parlance. The person who actually contributed to make things happen may sometimes not be given due recognition but this Monday morning our focus should be on God who sees in the secret and rewards openly. The appraisal and recommendation may not have favour you but you due date is coming. 'Let us not be weary in well doing, for in due season we will reap only if we refuse to give up'. Life may not be fair but God who rewards is faithful, just and fair in all His affairs. Keep sowing the inherent seeds of goodness, justice in your time, talent, treasure and relationships, the harvest is guaranteed!

Have a great week!

Shalom!

Seize the Moment

Author: Unknown

 

I have a friend who lives by a three-word philosophy: Seize the moment.  Just possibly she may be the wisest woman on this planet. Too many people put off something that brings them joy just because they haven't thought about it, don't have it on their schedule, didn't know it was coming or are too rigid to depart from their routine.

 

I got to thinking one day about all those women on the Titanic who passed up dessert at dinner that fateful night in an effort to cut back. From then on, I've tried to be a little more flexible.

 

How many women out there will eat at home because their husband didn't suggest going out to dinner until after something had been thawed?

 

Does the word "refrigeration" mean nothing to you?

 

How often have your kids dropped in to talk and sat in silence while you watched Jeopardy!  On television?

 

I cannot count the times I called my sister and said, "How about going to lunch in a half hour?" She would gasp and stammer, "I can't." Check one:

     "I have clothes on the line."

     "My hair is dirty."

     "I wish I had known yesterday,"

     "I had a late breakfast".

     "It looks like rain".

     And my personal favorite: "It's Monday".

 

She died a few years ago. We never did have lunch together.

 

Because Americans cram so much into their lives, we tend to schedule our headaches. We live on a sparse diet of promises we make to ourselves when all the conditions are perfect:

 

We'll go back and visit the Grandparents when we get Stevie toilet trained. We'll entertain, when we replace the living room carpet.  We'll go on a second honeymoon, when we get two more kids out of college. Life has a way of accelerating, as we get older. The days get shorter, and the list of promises to ourselves gets longer. One morning, we awaken, and all we have to show for our lives is a litany of “I'm going to", "I plan on" and "Someday, when things are settled down a bit."

 

When anyone calls my 'seize the moment' friend, she is open to adventure and available for trips. She keeps an open mind on new ideas. Her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You talk with her for five minutes, and you're ready to trade your bad feet for a pair of Rollerblades and skip an elevator for a bungee cord.

 

My lips have not touched ice cream in 10 years. I love ice cream. It's just that I might as well apply it directly to my hips with a spatula and eliminate the digestive process.

 

The other day, I stopped the car and bought a double-decker. If my car had hit an iceberg on the way home, I would have died happy.

 

Now...go on and have a nice day. Do something you WANT to ....not something on your SHOULD DO list.

 

“In a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed.” -1 Corinthians 15:52 

The Keeper Of The Bridge

Author: © Joan Clifton Costner

It was on the Mississippi ,
Where the great draw-bridge was known,
And the keeper had great honor -
Far from his Oklahoma home.

It was in the dark depression days.
He'd headed toward the east,
But, found this most prestigious post
To feed his family.

When the ships came down the river
Then, he pulled the lever hard
And the bridge split in the middle,
Raised and stood like giant guards ...

Letting pass the ships of cargo,
Going north and south each day,
The captains highly trusted him -
This keeper of the way.

Now, the trains that crossed the river
Sounded out a whistle shrill.
The engineers had confidence
In the keeper, down the hill.

So, they bustled on, so speedily.
They knew this bridge would hold
All their merchandise and passengers,
All their many forms of gold.

It happened on a sunny day,
The keeper took his only son -
Let him watch him do his duty,
Let him see a job well done.

They had lunch down on the walkway,
Jutting out into the deep.
For from there, the bridge looked awesome,

Like a giant he must keep.

They saw the cogs and pins,
The gears all polished bright.
The keeper pointed out the turns they made,
To make the bridge raise right.

Then, engrossed in their discussion,
Came a sound of great alarm!
'Twas the whistle of the engineer'
Signaling to keep from harm.

The keeper leapt to scale the wall
And pull the lever fast!
He dare not waste a moment, for
The train, too soon, would pass!

So, he ran and grabbed the lever -
Just glancing up to see
His son, not waiting on the dock
Where he was told to be.

His eyes fell on the gear box,
His son, in agony,
Had fallen there and caught up tight
In the gears of that machine!

Four hundred souls are racing,
To crash into the bridge!
Four hundred people, he would choose,
To sacrifice or live!

There was no time to warn the train,
Nor rescue safe his son,
And so he did the only thing ...
And wept when it was done.

The train sped by, unheeding
The keeper weeping there.
He looked up, saw the faces
Of passengers, so fair ...

A little girl with ice cream,
A man in tall grand hat.
A woman, with companion,
Engaged in friendly chat.

They never knew, as they swept by,
The sacrifice it cost.
The keeper, weeping bitterly,
So loved the boy he lost!

I cannot help but think the day
That God gave up His Son ...
The world, goes rushing on its way,
Unaware of what He's done.

He built a bridge that spans the gulf
From here to Heaven's shore.
He sacrificed His Only Son.
He opened Heaven's door!

Oh, Keeper, how can I repay
That Heart that loves us true?
Dear Keeper of the Bridge of Love ,
I give my life to You!“And all that dwell upon the earth shall worship him, whose names are not written in the book of life of the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world.” - Revelation 13:8

Joy in the Journey

Author: Steve Goodier ©

If you have ever been discouraged because of failure, please read on. For often, achieving what you set out to do is not the important thing. Let me explain.

Two brothers decided to dig a deep hole behind their house. As they were working, a couple of older boys stopped by to watch.

“What are you doing?” asked one of the visitors.

“We plan to dig a hole all the way through the earth!” one of the brothers volunteered excitedly. The older boys began to laugh; telling the younger ones that digging a hole all the way through the earth was impossible. After a long silence, one of the diggers picked up a jar full of spiders, worms and a wide assortment of insects. He removed the lid and showed the wonderful contents to the scoffing visitors. Then he said quietly and confidently, “Even if we don’t dig all the way through the earth, look what we found along the way!”

Their goal was far too ambitious, but it did cause them to dig. And that is what a goal is for – to cause us to move in the direction we have chosen; in other words, to set us to digging! But not every goal will be fully achieved. Not every job will end successfully. Not every relationship will endure. Not every hope will come to pass. Not every love will last. Not every endeavor will be completed. Not every dream will be realized. But when you fall short of your aim, perhaps you can say, “Yes, but look at what I found along the way! Look at the wonderful things which have come into my life because I tried to do something!”

It is in the digging that life is lived. And I believe it is joy in the journey, in the end, that truly matters.

 
“Then he said unto them, Go your way, eat the fat, and drink the sweet, and send portions unto them for whom nothing is prepared: for this day is holy unto our Lord: neither be ye sorry; for the joy of the LORD is your strength.” - Nehemiah 8:10 

Wall of Resentment...

 

Dear loved one,

  

A merchant in a small town had an identical twin son. The boys worked for their father in his department store and when he died, they took over the store. Everything went well until the day a twenty-dollar bill disappeared. One of the brothers had left the bill on the cash register to attend to a customer but when he returned, the money was gone. He asked his brother probing with a subtle accusation in his voice. Temper rose and before long, a bitter chasm separated the young men. They refused to speak, decided they could no longer work together and erected a dividing wall from the centre of the store. For twenty years the hostility grew, spreading to their families and the community. Then one day, a man from another state stopped by, walked in and asked the clerk, "How long have you been here?" The clerk replied 'all my life'. The man then said, "I must share something with you. Twenty years ago I rode into this town in a boxcar. I hadn't eaten for three days. I came into this store from the back door and saw a twenty-dollar bill on the cash register, put it in my pocket and walked out. All these years I haven't been able to forget that. I know it wasn't much money, but I had to come back to ask your forgiveness." The man was amazed to see tears well up in the eyes of this middle-aged man. "Would you please go next door and tell that same story to the man in the store?" he said. Then the customer was amazed to see two middle-aged men, who looked very much alike, embracing each other and weeping together in the front of the store. After twenty years, their brokenness was mended and the wall of resentment that divided them came down.

This classic is straight up for us this week. Life is too short for experiment that can blow up the laboratories of our relationships. Insignificant disagreements if not handled with care can lead us into resentments, bitterness, depression and breakdown of communication in relationships. People have been fired from work, partnerships broken in business because of relationship management. There is no offence grievous that shouldn't be forgiven anyone. It is often the little foxes that spoil the vine. The solution which may not be of a popular consensus, but it is simply to let people go when they hurt us. This week, refuse to harbour bitterness and you will be amazed at how much energy you have to build bonds with those you love.

Have a great week!

Shalom!

More Than A Pay Check

By Irene Budzynski 

 

My husband had lost his job the week before and we were in shock, unable to clearly assess the financial damage. With three sons to raise, I was also a new nursing school student, so my mind was focused on studies and keeping a tight schedule.

 

Then began the night which turned our lives upside down, I drove to the school where my 12 year old son was finishing swim team practice. Pulling up to the driveway, flashing lights on an emergency vehicle signaled that there was a problem. Waving her arms wildly, a woman shouted to me, "There's been an accident. Your son needs you."

 

Cooling down after practice, Daniel had taken one last dive and his neck had struck the bottom of the concrete pool. Now he was being strapped onto a board, his neck in a brace, paramedics readying him for the ambulance ride to the hospital. Our son had sustained damage to C-3, C-4, and C-5 vertebrae of his spine. Two fusion operations followed and the surgeon was successful in preventing paralysis, but we were overwhelmed! Months had passed, unemployment was still our companion, and we needed to make a decision.

 

Daniel would be recuperating at home for months. If I left school my loans would have to be repaid, immediately increasing our debt. If my husband stayed with him I could continue my studies as well as work at three part time jobs to offset some of the staggering bills. We opted for the latter, and the blessings followed. Our headstrong son and his impatient father developed an unshakeable bond which had eluded them in the years of "making a living." My husband learned how to wash the hair of a child who wore a neck brace, cooked meals, and helped Daniel with his studies.

 

Daniel 's behavior changed as he was forced to become dependent, and he learned to discuss problems without the inevitable argument. Father and son cemented their relationship with mutual respect and love.

 

Our financial situation was scary, but the overwhelming goodness of friends and strangers prevailed. When there was no wood to heat the house, a cord of oak for the woodstove appeared on our driveway the next day. Groceries were delivered, and we became innovative in "making do" with what we had. At the end of a long winter, my husband found a job. We had spent every available dollar and there wasn't enough food to last the week. As we had throughout the period of trial and tribulation, we thanked God for His goodness, knowing He wouldn't abandon us.

 

The mail that day included a check for $100. Attached was a note stating, "I wrote this check to you several months ago, but put it into a book by mistake. It fell out of the book when I was dusting the shelf and I had the feeling that you might be needing it. God bless you."

 

Yes, He did indeed bless us in the form of all the good people who had come into our life. Unemployment gave my husband the time to care for his beloved child, a time when he was able to become the father which he so dearly wanted to be.

 

“For the LORD will not forsake his people for his great name’s sake: because it hath pleased the LORD to make you his people.” -1 Samuel 12:22 

The Station

Tucked away in our subconscious minds is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long, long trip that almost spans the continent. We’re traveling by passenger train, and out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hills, of biting winter and blazing summer and cavorting spring and docile fall.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. There sill be bands playing, and flags waving. And once we get there so many wonderful dreams will come true. So many wishes will be fulfilled and so many pieces of our lives finally will be neatly fitted together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering … waiting, waiting, waiting, for the station.

However, sooner or later we must realize there is no one station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.
“When we reach the station, that will be it !” we cry. Translated it means, “When I’m 18, that will be it ! When I buy a new 450 SL Mercedes Benz, that will be it ! When I put the last kid through college, that will be it ! When I have paid off the mortgage, that will be it ! When I win a promotion, that will be it ! When I reach the age of retirement, that will be it ! I shall live happily ever after !”
Unfortunately, once we get it, then it disappears. The station somehow hides itself at the end of an endless track.

“Relish the moment” is a good motto, especially when coupled with Psalm 118:24: “This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.” It isn’t the burdens of today that drive men mad. Rather, it is regret over yesterday or fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who would rob us of today.
So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot oftener, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more and cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough

Slow Dance

Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round
Or listened to the rain slapping on the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly’s erratic flight
Or gazed at the sun into the fading night?
You better slow down
Don’t dance so fast
Time is short
The music won’t last
Do you run through each day on the fly
When you ask “How are you?” do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed
With the next hundred chores running through your head?
You’d better slow down
Don’t dance so fast
Time is short
The music won’t last
Ever told your child, We’ll do it tomorrow
And in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch, Let a good friendship die
‘Cause you never had time to call and say “Hi”?
You’d better slow down
Don’t dance so fast
Time is short
The music won’t last
When you run so fast to get somewhere
You miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,
It is like an unopened gift….
Thrown away…
Life is not a race.
Do take it slower
Hear the music
Before the song is over.
-Author Unknown

A Tribute To The Bible

Author: Unknown

The Bible is not an amulet, a charm, a fetish or a book that will work wonders by its very presence. It is a book that will work wonders in every life, here and hereafter, if acted upon and obeyed in faith and sincerity. It is God's inspired revelation of the origin and destiny of all things, written in the simplest human language possible so that the most unlearned can understand and obey its teachings. It is self-interpreting and covers every subject of human knowledge and need now and forever.

As a literary composition, the Bible is the most remarkable book ever made. It is a divine library of 66 books, some of considerable size, and others no larger than a tract. These books include various forms of literature - history, biography, poetry, proverbial sayings, hymns, letters, directions for elaborate ritualistic worship, laws, parables, riddles, allegories, prophecy, drama, and others. They embrace all manner of literary styles in human expression.

It is the book that reveals the mind of God, the state of man, the way of Salvation, the doom of sinners, and the happiness of believers. Its doctrines are Holy, its precepts binding, its histories true, and its decisions immutable.

Read it to be wise, believe it to be safe, and practice it to be holy. The Bible contains light to direct you, food to support you, and comfort to cheer you. It is the traveler's map, the pilgrim's staff, the pilot's compass, the soldier's sword, and the Christians charter. Here heaven is opened, and the gates of hell disclosed. Christ is its grand subject; our good is its design, and the Glory of God its end. It should fill your memory, rule your heart, and guide your feet in true righteousness and true holiness.

Read it slowly, frequently, prayerfully, meditatively, searchingly, devotionally, and study it constantly, perseveringly, and industriously. Read it through and through until it becomes a part of your being and generates faith that will move mountains.

The Bible is a mine of wealth, the source of health, and a world of pleasure. It is given to you in this life, will be opened at the judgment, and will stand forever. It involves the highest responsibility, will reward the least to the greatest of labor, and will condemn all who trifle with its sacred contents.

 

“For I testify unto every man that heareth the words of the prophecy of this book, If any man shall add unto these things, God shall add unto him the plagues that are written in this book: And if any man shall take away from the words of the book of this prophecy, God shall take away his part out of the book of life, and out of the holy city, and the things which are written in this book.” –Revelation 22:18-19