The Duck and the devil

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target. Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck.

Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved

In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see his sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch the next day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes." But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen." Then she whispered to him, "Remember the duck?" So Johnny did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, "I'm sorry but I need Sally to help make supper." Sally just smiled and said," Well that's all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help." She whispered again, "Remember the duck?" So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer.

He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck. Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug, and said, "Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you."

Thought for the day and every day thereafter?

Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done... and the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt,fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc.)... whatever it is... You need to know that God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing... He has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven.

He's just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.


The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness, He not only forgives you, but He forgets .. It is by God's grace and mercy that we are saved.

Remember:

God is at the window




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Windshield thoughts of a 6 year old

One rainy afternoon I was driving along one of the main

streets of town, taking those extra precautions necessary when

the roads are wet and slick. Suddenly, my daughter, Aspen,

spoke up from her relaxed position in her seat.

"Dad, I'm thinking of something."

This announcement usually meant she had been pondering

some fact for a while, and was now ready to expound

all that her six-year-old mind had discovered.

I was eager to hear.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.

"The rain" she began, "is like sin, and the wind shield wipers

are like God wiping our sins away." After the chill

bumps raced up my arms I was able to respond.

"That's really good, Aspen."

Then my curiosity broke in. How far would this

little girl take this revelation?

So I asked... "Do you notice how the rain keeps on coming?

What does that tell you?"


Aspen didn't hesitate one moment with her answer:

"We keep on sinning, and God just keeps on forgiving us."

I will always remember this whenever I turn my wipers on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True? Probably not. But the moral of this fable is timely and accurate.

C~B~N

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Grandma's Hands

I'll never look at my hands the same.

Grandma, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands.

When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if she was OK.

Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled.

"Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," she said in a clear strong voice.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here looking at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK, " I explained to her.

"Have you ever looked at your hands," she asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?"

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.

Grandma smiled and related this story:

"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years.

These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.

"They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.

As a child my mother taught me to fold them in prayer.

They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.

They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war.

They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.

They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.

Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.

They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse.

They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.

They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.

And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life.

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.

And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."


"I will never look at my hands the same again.

But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of grandma.

I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God.

I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

Go with God, Joe Eiben

~~~~~~~~~~~~
Came via email. I cannot attest to its authenticity that Joe Eiben is the
author of this. But I loved the sentiment and it is that I wish to share.

May God hold YOU in HIS hands this day.....

C~B~N


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Night Watch

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside.

"Your son is here," she said to the old man. She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened.

Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed Green Beret standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The Green Beret wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the elite fighter could sit beside the bed. All through the night the young warrior sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength.

Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Green Beret move away and rest awhile. He refused.

Whenever the nurse came into the ward, he was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital - the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night.

Along towards dawn, the old man died. The rugged paratrooper released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse. While she did what she had to do, he waited.

Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the uniformed warrior interrupted her.

"Who was that man?" he asked.

The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.

"No, he wasn't," the Green Beret replied. "I never saw him before in my life."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"

"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me...... I stayed."

The next time someone needs you ... just be there.

Stay.

We are not human beings going through a temporary spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings going through a temporary human experience.

Walk in peace! Take Care and God Bless.


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IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

by Irma Bombeck

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day.

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded.

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.

I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner."

There would have been more "I love you's" More "I'm sorry's."

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it ... live it and never give it back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Death can really put things into perspective. We all should live each day as if it were OUR LAST.

What would you want YOUR last words to be to a loved one? Words of anger or LOVE?

What would you want YOUR last action to be? One blaspheming God; showing weak faith; showing hatred to mankind? Or one honoring God, your faith and mankind?

Thanks again to a wonderul woman who shared her thoughts as she faced death.

You are missed Irma....hoping to meet you someday in Heaven!

C~B~N


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