Sweet Sappies

Professor gives his final lecture

2008-03-05T12:07:00.001-08:00

I love watching the inspirational videos
on you-tube. But I just don't have a lot
of time to search for them. That's why I
LOVE how Kim Komando has added a
video of the day link on her emails she
sends out.

This one is a wonderfully inspiring one
given by a professor who is dying from
pancreatic cancer.

His outlook on life is admirable.

Life Lessons

Great men are they who see
that the spiritual is stronger
than any material force.
~Ralph Waldo Emerson~

Interested in Kim's emails for yourself? Well Sign up then!

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The World's Strongest Dad

2008-03-05T12:07:00.000-08:00

and the most LOVING one too!

World's Strongest Dad

Team Hoyt

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The donut master. A Fable

2007-11-27T21:07:00.000-08:00

There was a boy by the name of Steve who was
attending college where Brother Christianson taught
seminary.

One day, Brother Christianson asked Steve to stay
after class so he could talk with him.

After class, Bro. Christianson pulledSteve aside
and said, "You think you're pretty tough, don't you?"

Steve's answer was, "Yeah, I do."

Then Brother Christianson asked, "How many push
ups can you do?"

Steve said, "I do about 200 every night."

"200? That's pretty good, Steve," Brother Christianson
said. "Do you think you could do 300?"

Steve replied, "I don't know... I've never done 300
at a time."

"Do you think you could?" again asked Brother
Christianson.

"Well, I can try," said Steve.

"Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I need you to do
300 in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it?

I need you to tell me you can do it,"Brother
Christianson said.

Steve said, "Well... I think I can... yeah, I can
do it."

Brother Christianson said, "Good! I need you to
do this on Friday."

Friday came and Steve got to class early and
sat in the front.

When class started, Brother Christianson pulled
out a big box of donuts.

Now these weren't the normal kinds of donuts,
they were the extra fancy BIG kind with cream
centers and frosting swirls.

Everyone was pretty excited. It was Friday, the
last class of the day, and they were going to get
an early start on the weekend.

Bro. Christianson went to the first girl in the
first row and asked,"Cynthia, do you want a
donut?"

Cynthia said, "Yes."

Bro. Christianson then turned to Steve
and asked, "Steve, would you do ten pushups
so that Cynthia can have a donut?"

Steve said, "Sure," and jumped down from his
desk to do a quick ten.

Then Steve again sat in his desk. Bro. Christianson
put a donut onCynthia's desk.

Bro. Christianson then went to Joe, the next
person, and asked,"Joe, do you want a donut?"

Joe said, "Yes." Bro. Christianson asked, "Steve
would you doten pushups so Joe can have a donut?"

Steve did ten pushups, Joe got a donut. And so it went,
down the first aisle, Steve did ten pushups for every
person before they got their donuts and down
the second aisle, until Bro. Christianson came to
Scott.

Scott was captain of the football team and
center of the basketball team. He was very
popular and never lacking for female
companionship.

When Bro. Christianson asked, "Scott do you
want a donut?"

Scott's reply was, "Well, can I do my own
pushups?" Bro. Christianson said, "No, Steve
has to do them."

Then Scott said, "Well, I don't want one then."

Bro. Christianson then turned to Steve and
asked, "Steve, would you do ten pushups so Scott
can have a donut he doesn't want?"

Steve started to do ten pushups.

Scott said, "HEY! I said I didn't want one!"

Bro. Christianson said, "Look, this is my
classroom, my class, my desks, and my donuts.
Just leave it on the desk if you don'twant it."

And he put a donut on Scott's desk.

Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down
a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets
because it took too much effort to be getting up
and down.

You could start to see a little perspiration coming
out around his brow. Bro. Christianson started
down the third row.

Now the students were beginning to get a little
angry. Bro. Christianson asked Jenny, "Jenny,
do you want a donut?"Jenny said, "No."

Then Bro. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would
you do ten pushups so Jenny can have a donut that
she doesn't want?"Steve did ten, Jenny got a donut.

By now, the students were beginning to say "No"
and there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks.

Steve was also having to really put forth a lot of effort
to get these pushups done for each donut.

There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor
beneath his face; his arms and brow were beginning
to get red because of the physical effort involved.

Bro. Christianson asked Robert to watch Steve
to make sure he did ten pushups in a set because
he couldn't bear to watch all of Steve's work for all
of those uneaten donuts.

So Robert began to watch Steve closely. Bro. Christianson
started down the fourth row.

During his class, however, some students had
wandered in and sat along the heaters along the
sides of the room.

When Bro.Christianson realized this; he did a quick
count and saw 34 students in the room. He started
to worry if Steve would be able to make it.

Bro. Christianson went on to the next person and
the next and the next. Near the end of that row,
Steve was really having a rough time. He was
taking a lot more time to complete each set.

Steve asked Bro. Christianson, "Do I have to make my
nose touch on each one?" Bro. Christianson
thought for a moment,"Well, they're your pushups.
You can do them any way that you want."
And Bro. Christianson went on.

A few moments later, Jason came to the room
and was about to come in when all the students
yelled, "NO! Don't come in! Stay out!"

Jason didn't know what was going on. Steve picked
up his head and said, "No, let him come."

Bro. Christianson said, "You realize that if Jason
comes in you will have to do ten pushups for him."
Steve said, "Yes, let him come in." Bro. Christianson
said,"Okay, I'll let you get Jason's out of the way right now.

Jason, do you want a donut?"

"Yes."

"Steve, will you do ten pushups so that Jason can
have a donut?" Steve did ten pushups very slowly
and with great effort.

Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.

Bro. Christianson finished the fourth row, then started on
those seated on the heaters. Steve's arms were now
shaking with each pushup in a struggle to lift himself
against the force of gravity.

Sweat was dropping off of his face, and by this time,
there was not a dry eye in the room.

The very last two girls in the room were cheerleaders
and very popular. Bro. Christianson went to Linda,
the second to last, and asked, "Linda, do you want a
doughnut? Linda said, very sadly,"No, thank you."

Bro. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would you do ten
pushups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn't
want?"

Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow
pushups for Linda. Then Bro. Christianson turned to the
last girl, Susan.

"Susan, do you want a donut?" Susan, with tears
flowing down her face, asked, Bro. Christianson,
"Dr. Christianson, why can't I help him?"

Dr. Christianson, with tears of his own, said,"No, Steve
has to do it alone. I have given him this task and he
is in charge of seeing that everyone has an opportunity
for a donut whether they want it or not.

When I decided to have a party this last day of class,
I looked at my grade book. Steve here is the only student
with a perfect grade.

Everyone else failed a test, skipped class, or offered me
inferior work.

Steve told me that in football practice, when a
player messes up he must do push ups. I told
Steve that none of you could come to my party
unless he paid the price by doing your push ups.

He and I made a deal for your sakes.

Steve, would you do ten pushups so Susan can have
a donut?" As Steve very slowly finished his last
pushup, with the understanding that he had accomplished
all that was required of him, having done 350 pushups,
his arms buckled beneath him and he fell to the floor.

Brother Christianson turned to the room and said.

"And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, plead to
the Father, 'Into your hands I commend my spirit.'

With the understanding that He had done everything
that was required of Him, He collapsed on the cross and
died.

And like some of those in this room, many of us leave
the gift on the desk,

...uneaten."

~Art Nelson~
A MountainWings Moment #3325

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Woman

2007-08-18T09:07:00.000-07:00

By the time the Lord made woman, He was
into his sixth day of working overtime.

An angel appeared and said, "Why are
you spending so much time on this one?"
And the Lord answered, "Have you seen
my spec sheet on her? She has to be
completely washable, but not plastic,
have over 200 movable parts, all
replaceable and able to run on diet
coke and leftovers, have a lap that can
hold four children at one time, have
a kiss that can cure anything from a
scraped knee to a broken heart -and
she will do everything with only two
hands."

The angel was astounded at the
requirements. "Only two hands!?
No way! And that's just on the standard
model? That's too much work for one
day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."

But I won't," the Lord protested. "I am
so close to finishing this creation that
is so close to my own heart.

She already heals herself when she is
sick AND can work 18 hour days."

The angel moved closer and touched
the woman. "But you have made her so
soft, Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I
have also made her tough. You have
no idea what she can endure or
accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?", asked
the angel.

The Lord replied, "Not only will she
be able to think, she will be able to
reason and negotiate."

The angel then noticed something, and
reaching out, touched the woman's
cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a
leak in this model. I told you that you
were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected,
"that's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way
of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her
pain, her disappointment, her love,
her loneliness, her grief and her pride."

The angel was impressed. "You are a
genius, Lord. You thought of everything!
Woman is truly amazing."

And she is! Women have strengths
that amaze men.

They bear hardships and they carry
burdens, but they hold happiness, love
and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.
They sing when they want to cry. They
cry when they are happy and laugh
when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in.
They stand up to injustice. They don't
take "no" for an answer when they
believe there is a better solution.

They go without so their family can have.

They go to the doctor with a frightened
friend.

They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel
and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about a
birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.

They grieve at the loss of a family
member, yet they are strong when
they think there is no strength left.

They know that a hug and a kiss can
heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and
colors. They'll drive, fly, walk, run or
e-mail you to show how much they care
about you. The heart of a woman is
what makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love. They
have compassion and ideals. They give
moral support to their family and
friends. Women have vital things to
say and everything to give.

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE
FLAW IN WOMEN, IT IS THAT
THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.

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God Lives Under the Bed

2007-08-13T23:37:00.000-07:00

I envy Kevin. My brother Kevin
thinks God lives under his bed.
At least that's what I heard him
say one night.

He was praying out loud in his
dark bedroom, and I stopped to
listen, 'Are you there, God?' he
said. 'Where are you? Oh, I see.
Under the bed...'

I giggled softly and tiptoed off
to my own room. Kevin's unique
perspectives are often a source of
amusement. But that night
something else lingered long after
the humor.

I realized for the first time the
very different world Kevin lives in.

He was born 30 years ago,
mentally disabled as a result of
difficulties during labor. Apart from
his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are
few ways in which he is an adult.

He reasons and communicates with
the capabilities of a 7-year-old,
and he always will. He will probably
always believe that God lives under
his bed, that Santa Claus is the one
who fills the space under our tree every
Christmas and that airplanes stay up
in the sky because angels carry them.

I remember wondering if Kevin
realizes he is different. Is he ever
dissatisfied with his monotonous
life?

Up before dawn each day, off to
work at a workshop for the disabled,
home to walk our cocker spaniel,
return to eat his favorite
macaroni-and-cheese for dinner,
and later to bed.

The only variation in the entire
scheme is laundry, when he hovers
excitedly over the washing machine
like a mother with her newborn child.

He does not seem dissatisfied.
He lopes out to the bus every
morning at 7:05, eager for a day
of simple work.

He wrings his hands excitedly
while the water boils on the stove
before dinner, and he stays up late
twice a week to gather our dirty
laundry for his next day's laundry
chores.

And Saturdays-oh, the bliss of
Saturdays! That's the day my Dad
takes Kevin to the airport to have
a soft drink, watch the planes land,
and speculate loudly on the destination
of each passenger inside. 'That one's
goin' to Chi-car-go!' Kevin shouts as
he claps his hands.

His anticipation is so great he
can hardly sleep on Friday nights.
And so goes his world of daily
rituals and weekend field trips.
He doesn't know what it means to
be discontent. His life is simple.

He will never know the entanglements
of wealth of power, and he does
not care what brand of clothing he
wears or what kind of food he eats.

His needs have always been met, and
he never worries that one day they
may not be.

His hands are diligent. Kevin is
never so happy as when he is working.
When he unloads the dishwasher or
vacuums the carpet, his heart is
completely in it.

He does not shrink from a job when
it is begun, and he does not leave a
job until it is finished. But when
his tasks are done, Kevin knows
how to relax.

He is not obsessed with his work
or the work of others.

His heart is pure.

He still believes everyone tells
the truth, promises must be kept,
and when you are wrong, you
apologize instead of argue.

Free from pride and unconcerned
with appearances, Kevin is not
afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry
or sorry. He is always transparent,
always sincere.

And he trusts God.

Not confined by intellectual
reasoning, when he comes to
Christ, he comes as a child.
Kevin seems to know God - to
really be friends with Him in a way
that is difficult for an 'educated'
person to grasp. God seems like
his closest companion.

In my moments of doubt and
frustrations with my Christianity
I envy the security Kevin has in
his simple faith. It is then that I
am most willing to admit that he
has some divine knowledge that rises
above my mortal questions.

It is then I realize that perhaps
he is not the one with the handicap .

I am.

My obligations, my fear, my pride,
my circumstances - they all become
disabilities when I do not trust
them to God's care .

Who knows if Kevin comprehends
things I can never learn? After all,
he has spent his whole life in that
kind of innocence, praying after dark
and soaking up the goodness and love
of God.

And one day, when the mysteries of
heaven are opened, and we are all
amazed at how close God really is to our
hearts, I'll realize that God heard the
simple prayers of a boy who
believed that God lived under his bed.

Kevin won't be surprised at all!

When you receive this, say a prayer.
That's all you have to do. This is powerful.

FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US
TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS
HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW
TO FLY

~Author Unknown~

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The Smell of Rain

2007-08-13T23:36:00.000-07:00

A cold March wind danced around
the dead of night in Dallas as
the doctor walked into the hospital
room of Diana Blessing.

Still groggy from surgery, her
husband David held her hand.
That afternoon, complications
had forced Diana, only 24-weeks
pregnant, to undergo an emergency
cesarean to deliver the couple's
new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing
only one pound and nine ounces,
they knew she was perilously
premature. Still, the doctor's
soft words dropped like bombs.
"I don't think she's going tomake
it," he said. "There's only a
10-percent chance she will live
through the night, and even then,
her future could be avery cruel one."

Numb with disbelief, David and
Diana listened as the doctor
described the devastating problems
Danae would likely face if she
survived. She would never walk;
she would never talk; she would
probably be blind; she would
certainly be prone to other
catastrophic conditions from
cerebral palsy to complete mental
retardation; and on and on.

"No! No!" was all Diana could say.
She and David with their 5 year-old
son Dustin, had dreamed of the day
they would become a family of four.

Now, in a matter of hours, that
dream was slipping away. "David
said that we needed to talk about
making funeral arrangements,"
Diana remembers, "I felt so bad for
him because he was doing everything,
trying to include me, but I just
couldn't listen." I said, "No, that
is not going to happen, no way!
I don't care what the doctors say.
Danae is not going to die! One day she
will be just fine, and she will be
coming home with us!"

Danae clung to life with the help of
every medical machine and marvel
her miniature body could endure
but as those first days passed, a new
agony set in for David and Diana.
Because Danae's underdeveloped
nervous system was essentially "raw,"
the lightest kiss or caress only
intensified her discomfort - so they
couldn't even cradle their tiny baby
girl against their chests. All they
could do was to pray that God would
stay close to their precious little girl.

As the weeks went by, she slowly
gained weight and strength. When
Danae turned two months old, her
parents were able to hold her.

Two months later, though doctors
continued to warn that her chances
of survival-much less living a normal
life-were next to zero, Danae went
home, just as her mother had predicted.

Five years later, Danae is a petite
but feisty young girl. She shows
no signs of any mental or physical
impairments. But this happy ending
is far from the end of her story.
One blistering summer afternoon,
Danae was sitting in her mother's lap
watching her brother's baseball team
practice. As always, Danae was
chattering non-stop with her mother.
Hugging her arms across her chest,
Danae asked, "Do you smell that?"

Detecting the approach of a
thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it
smells like rain." Still caught in the
moment, Danae shook her head,
patted her thin shoulders with her
small hands and loudly announced,
"No, it smells like Him. It smells like
God when you lay your head on His
chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae
then hopped down to play. Her
daughter's words confirmed what
the Blessing family had known all along.
During the first two months of life, when
her nerves were too sensitive for them
to touch her, God was holding Danae
on His chest, and it is His loving
scent that she remembers so well.

~A true story originally entitled
"Heaven Scent" from the book,
"Miracles In Our Midst~

Mountain Wings #7219

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Bruised Apples

2007-08-11T21:56:00.000-07:00

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to
a regional sales convention in Chicago.
They had assured their wives that they
would be home in plenty of time for Friday
night's dinner.

Well, as such things go, one thing led to
another.

The sales manager went longer than anticipated
and the meeting ran overtime. Their flights
were scheduled to leave out of Chicago's
O'Hare Airport, and they had to race
frantically to the airport. With tickets in
hand, they barged through the terminal
to catch their flight back home.

In their rush, with tickets and brief cases,
one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked
over a table which held a display of baskets
of apples.

Apples flew everywhere.

Without stopping or looking back, they
all managed to reach the plane in time for
their nearly-missed boarding.

All but one.

He paused, took a deep breath, got in
touch with his feelings, and experienced a
twinge of compassion for the girl whose
applestand had been overturned.

He told his buddies to go on without him,
waved goodbye, told one of them to call
his wife when they arrived at their home
destination and explain his taking a later
flight. Then here turned to the terminal
where the apples were all over the terminal
floor.

He was glad he did. The 16 year old girl
was totally blind! She was softly crying,
tears running down her cheeks in frustration,
and at the same time helplessly groping for
her spilled produce as the crowd swirled
about her; no one stopping, and no one to
care for her plight.

The salesman knelt on the floor with her,
gathered up the apples, put them into the
baskets, and helped set the display up
once more.

As he did this he noticed that many of
them had become battered and bruised;
these he set aside in another basket.

When he had finished, he pulled out his
wallet and said to the girl, "Here, please
take this $20 for the damage we did.
Are you okay?" She nodded through
her tears. He continued on with,"I
hope we didn't spoil your day too badly."

As the salesman started to walk away,
the bewildered blind girl called out to him,
"Mister...."

He paused and turned to look back into
those blind eyes.

She continued, "Are you Jesus?"

He stopped in mid-stride, and he
wondered. Then slowly he made his
way to catch the later flight with that
question burning and bouncing about
in his soul:

"Are you Jesus?"

Do people mistake you for Jesus? That's
our destiny, is it not? To be so much like
Jesus that people cannot tell the difference
as we live and interact with a world
that is blind to His love, life and grace.

If we claim to know Him, we should live,
walk and act as He would. Knowing
Him is more than simply quoting Scripture
and going to church. It's Actually living
the Word as life unfolds day to day.

You are the apple of His eye even though
we, too, have been bruised by a fall.
He stopped what He was doing and picked
you and me up on a hill called Calvary
and paid in full for our damaged fruit.

Let's start living like we are worth the price
He paid.

~Author Unknown~

from Mountain Wings
#7211 Wings Over The Mountains of Life

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The Competition

2007-06-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a bunch of tiny frogs.... who arranged a running competition. The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower.

A big crowd had gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contestants....

The race began....

Honestly: No one in crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower.

You heard statements such as: "Oh, WAY too difficult!!"

"They will NEVER make it to the top."

or: "Not a chance that they will succeed. The tower is too high!"

The tiny frogs began collapsing.

One by one....

Except for those, who in a fresh tempo, were climbing higher and higher....

The crowd continued to yell, "It is too difficult!!! No one will make it!"

More tiny frogs got tired and gave up....

But ONE continued higher and higher and higher....

This one wouldn't give up!

At the end everyone else had given up climbing the tower. Except for the one tiny frog who, after a big effort, was the only one who reached the top!

THEN all of the other tiny frogs naturally wanted to know how this one frog managed to do it?

A contestant asked the tiny frog how he had found the strength to succeed and reach the goal?

It turned out....

That the winner was DEAF!!!!

The wisdom of this story is: Never listen to other people's tendencies to be negative or pessimistic.... because they take your most wonderful dreams and wishes away from you -- the ones you have in your heart!

Always think of the power words have.

Because everything you hear and read will affect your actions!

Therefore: ALWAYS be....POSITIVE!

And above all: Be DEAF when people tell YOU that you cannot fulfill your dreams!

Always think: God and I can do this!

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Nail in the Fence

2007-05-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

There once was a little boy who had a bad
temper. His Father gave him a bag of nails
and told him that every time he lost his
temper, he must hammer a nail into the back
of the fence.

The first day the boy had driven 37 nails
into the fence. Over the next few weeks,
as he learned to control his anger, the
number of nails hammered daily
gradually dwindled down.

He discovered it was easier to hold his
temper than to drive those nails into the
fence.

Finally the day came when the boy didn't
lose his temper at all. He told his father
about it and the father suggested that the
boy now pull out one nail for each day that
he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was
finally able to tell his father that all the
nails were gone.

The father took his son by the
hand and led him to the fence He said,
"You have done well, my son, but look at the
holes in the fence. The fence will never be
the same.

When you say things in anger,
they leave a scar just like this one. You
can put a knife in a man and draw it out.

It won't matter how many times you say I'm
sorry, the wound is still there. "

A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one.

Please forgive me if I have ever left a hole.

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20 bucks

2007-02-24T04:52:00.000-08:00

A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up
a $20.00 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like
this $20 bill?" Hands started going up.

He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first,
let me do this. He proceeded to crumple up the $20 dollar bill.

He then asked, "Who still wants it?" Still the hands were
up in the air.

Well, he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on
the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.

He picked it up, now crumpled and dirty. "Now, who still
wants it?" Still the hands went into the air.

My friends, we have all learned a very valuable lesson.
No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it
because it did not decrease in value.

It was still worth $20.

Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and
ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the
circumstances that come our way.

We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what
has happened or what will happen, you will never lose
your value.

Dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still
priceless to those who DO LOVE you. [Especially God!]

The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who
we know [or what we own], but by WHO WE ARE.

You are special- Don't EVER forget it."

Count your blessings, not your problems.

And remember: amateurs built the ark ... professionals built the Titanic.

† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †

I just liked this one....
C~B~N

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Sand and Stone

2007-02-23T04:52:00.000-08:00

Via email~~~~

Two friends were walking through the desert. During some
point of the journey, they had an argument; and one friend
slapped the other one in the face.

The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything,
wrote in the sand: Today my Best Friend slapped me in the face.

They kept on walking, until they found an oasis where they
decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck
in the mire and started drowing, but the friend saved him.

After he recovered from the near drowing, he wrote on a stone:
Today My Best Friend saved my life.

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked
him, "after I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write
on a stone, why?"

The friend replied "when someone hurts us, we should
write it down in sand, where winds of forgiveness can erase
it away.

But, when someone does something good for us, we
MUST engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Learn to write YOUR hurts in the sand and to carve your
Blessings in stone.

Do not value the THINGS you have in your life, but value
WHO you have in your life!

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The Duck and the devil

2007-01-12T22:52:00.000-08:00

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

2007-01-12T22:21:00.000-08:00

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

2007-01-06T07:00:00.000-08:00

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

2007-01-06T05:59:00.000-08:00

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

2007-01-06T05:58:00.000-08:00

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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Life Lessons

2006-05-17T02:58:00.000-07:00

Lesson 1

The Cleaning Lady.

During my second month of college, our professor gave us a pop quiz.
I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions
until I read the last one: "What is the first name of the woman who
cleans the school?"

Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman
several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s,
but how would I know her name?

I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before
class ended, one student asked if the last question would count
toward our quiz grade.

"Absolutely," said the professor. "

In your careers, you will meet many people.
All are significant. They deserve your
attention and care, even if all you do is smile
and say "hello."

Lesson 2

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old
boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a
glass of water in front of him.

"How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked. "Fifty cents," replied
the waitress. The little boy pulled is hand out of his pocket and
studied the coins in it. "Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?"
he inquired. By now more people were waiting for a table and the
waitress was growing impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she brusquely replied.

The little boy again counted his coins. "I'll have the plain
ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put
the bill on the table and walked away. The boy finished the ice
cream, paid the cashier and left.

When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down
the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two
nickels and five pennies..

You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he had to have
enough left to leave her a tip. {Although, a 15 cent tip was pretty
darn good for a 35 cent item back then! 10% would have been 3.5
cents......but still a very important lesson to remember!~~~~}

Always remember those who serve.

Lesson 3

The obstacle in Our Path.

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway.
Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the
huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and
courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed
the King for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything
about getting the stone out of the way. Then a peasant came
along carrying a load of vegetables.

Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and
tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing
and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his
load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the
boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note
from the King indicating that the gold was for the person who
removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what
many of us never understand!

Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve
our condition.

Lesson 4

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to
know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare & serious
disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a
blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously
survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies
needed to combat the illness.

The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked
the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister.
I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath
and saying, "Yes I'll do it if it will save her."

As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister
and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheek.
Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the
doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die
right away"?

Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he
thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in
order to save her.

Giving When it Counts...

† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †

If you snopes this one, you'll find most are not true; but then
whoever said fables had to be true in order to learn from them?
Because these are simply modern day fables~~~meant to
enlighten and inform in a pleasant and yes, sappy way!

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I Wish You Enough

2006-04-26T05:50:00.000-07:00

Recently I overheard a mother and daughter in their last moments together at the airport. They had announced the departure.

Standing near the security gate, they hugged and the mother said, "I love you and I wish you enough".

The daughter replied, "Mom, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Mom".

They kissed and the daughter left. The mother walked over to the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see she wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on her privacy but she welcomed me in by asking, "Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?"

Yes, I have," I replied. "Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?"

"I am old and she lives so far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is - the next trip back will be for my funeral," she said.

"When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, 'I wish you enough'. May I ask what that means?"

She began to smile. "That's a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone". She paused a moment and looked up as if trying to remember it in detail and she smiled even more. "When we said , 'I wish you enough', we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with just enough good things to sustain them". Then turning toward me, she shared the following as if she were reciting it from memory.

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how gray the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

She then began to cry and walked away.

† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †
To all my friends and loved ones, I WISH YOU ENOUGH
c~b~n

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Answered Prayers

2006-04-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

Came to me via email; as most do. Didn't "snopes" this as I didn't really care how "true" it was. I liked it and know that our Lord can and does miracles like this all the time.......He knows what we need before we even pray!
† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †

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 that 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, and that 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 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 hot water bottle today. 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, "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 22-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 doubted! Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?"

"Of course", I replied!

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)

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AND GOD SAID...

2006-04-11T13:10:00.000-07:00

I said, "God, I hurt."
And God said, "I know."

I said, "God, I cry a lot."
And God said, "That's why I gave you tears."

I said, "God, I am so depressed."
And God said, "That's why I gave you sunshine."

I said, "God, life is so hard."
And God said, "That's why I gave you loved ones."

I said, "God, my loved one died."
And God said, "So did mine."

I said, "God, It is such a loss."
And God said, "I saw mine nailed to a cross."

I said, "God, where are they now?"
And God said, "Mine is on my right and yours is in the light."

I said, "God it hurts."
And God said, "I know."

~by K.C. and Myke Kuzmic~
Posted on the wall at the Oklahoma City bombing site.

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My Attorney

2006-02-27T22:31:00.000-08:00

After living what I felt was a "decent" life, my time on earth came to the end.

The first thing I remember is sitting on a bench in the waiting room of what I thought to be a court house.The doors opened and I was instructed to come in and have a seat by the defense table.

As I looked around I saw the "prosecutor."

He was a villainous looking gent who snarled as he stared at me.

He definitely was the most evil person I have ever seen.

I sat down and looked to my left and there sat My Attorney, a kind
and gentle looking man whose appearance seemed so familiar to me,
I felt I knew Him.

The corner door flew open and there appeared the Judge in
full-flowing robes. He commanded an awesome presence as
He moved across the room Icouldn't take my eyes off of Him.

As He took His seat behind the bench, He said, "Let us begin."

The prosecutor rose and said, "My name is Satan and I am here to show you why this man belongs in hell." He proceeded to tell of lies that I told, things that I stole, and in the past when I cheated others.

Satan told of other horrible perversions that were once in my life and the more he spoke, the further down in my seat I sank.

I was so embarrassed that I couldn't look at anyone, even my own Attorney, as the Devil told of sins that even I had completely forgotten about.

As upset as I was at Satan for telling all these things about me, I was equally upset at My Attorney who sat there silently not offering any form of defense at all.

I know I had been guilty of those things, but I had done some good in my life - couldn't that at least equal out part of the harm I'd done?

Satan finished with a fury and said, "This man belongs in hell, he is guilty of all that I have charged and there is not a person who can prove otherwise.

When it was His turn, My Attorney first asked if He might approach the bench.

The Judge allowed this over the strong objection of Satan, and beckoned Him to come forward.

As He got up and started walking, I was able to see Him in His full splendor and majesty.

I realized why He seemed so familiar; this was Jesus representing me, my Lord and my Savior.

He stopped at the bench and softly said to the Judge, "Hi,Dad," and then He turned to address the court.

"Satan was correct in saying that this man had sinned, I won't deny any of these allegations. And, yes, the wage of sin is death, and this man deserves to be punished."

Jesus took a deep breath and turned to His Father with outstretched arms and proclaimed, "However, I died on the cross so that this person might have eternal life and he has accepted Me as his Savior, so he is Mine.

My Lord continued with, "His name is written in the Book of Life, and no one can snatch him from Me.

Satan still does not understand yet. This man is NOT to be given justice, but rather mercy."

As Jesus sat down, He quietly paused, looked at His Father and said,"There is nothing else that needs to be done."

"I've done it all."

The Judge lifted His mighty hand and slammed the gavel down. The following words bellowed from His lips.

"This man is free.

The penalty for him has already been paid in full.

Case dismissed."

As my Lord led me away, I could hear Satan ranting and raving,"I won't give up, I will win the next one."

I asked Jesus as He gave me my instructions where to go next, "Have you ever lost a case?

Christ lovingly smiled and said,
"Everyone that has come to Me and asked Me to represent them has received the same verdict as you."

~Paid In Full~

"Stop telling God how big your storm is. Instead, tell the storm how big your God is!"

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A Baby's Hug

2006-02-18T10:10:00.000-08:00

We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a highchair and noticed everyone was quietly sitting and talking.

Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi." He pounded his fat baby hands on the high chair tray. His eyes were crinkled in laughter and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin, as he wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment.

It was a man whose pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair! was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map.

We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists. "Hi there, baby. Hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.

My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?"

Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi."

Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby.

Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, Do ya patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo?

Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo." Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk.

My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments.

We finally got through the meal and headed for the door. My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot.

The old man sat poised between me and the door.

"Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed.

As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's "pick-me-up" position.

Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love and kinship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder.

The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck.

The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms and his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby." Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone.

He pried Erik from his chest, lovingly and longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift." I said nothing more than a muttered thanks.

With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me."

I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not.

I felt it was God asking, "Are you willing to share your son for a moment?" when He shared His for all eternity.

The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children."

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Just Checking In

2006-02-11T15:59:00.000-08:00

A minister passing through his church in the middle of the day,
Decided to pause by the altar and see who had come to pray.

Just then the back door opened, a man came down the aisle,
The minister frowned as he saw the man hadn't shaved in a while.
His shirt was kind a shabby and his coat was worn and frayed,
the man knelt, he bowed his head, Then rose and walked away.

In the days that followed, each noon time came this chap,
each time he knelt just for a moment, A lunch pail in his lap.

Well, the minister's suspicions grew, with robbery a main fear,
He decided to stop the man and ask him, "What are you doing here?"

The old man said, he worked down the road. Lunch was half an hour.
Lunchtime was his prayer time, For finding strength and power.
"I stay only moments, see, because the factory is so far away;
as I kneel here talking to the Lord, This is kind a what I say:

"I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD, HOW HAPPY I'VE BEEN, SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHER'S FRIENDSHIP AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN. DON'T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY, BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY. SO, JESUS, THIS IS JIM CHECKING IN TODAY."

The minister feeling foolish, told Jim, that was fine.
He told the man he was welcome To come and pray just anytime.
Time to go, Jim smiled, said "Thanks." He hurried to the door.

The minister knelt at the altar, he'd never done it before.
His cold heart melted, warmed with love, and met with Jesus there.
As the tears flowed, in his heart, he repeated old Jim's prayer:

"I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD, HOW HAPPY I'VE BEEN, SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHER'S FRIENDSHIP AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN. I DON'T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY, BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY. SO, JESUS, THIS IS ME CHECKING IN TODAY."

Past noon one day, the minister noticed that old Jim hadn't come.
As more days passed without Jim, he began to worry some.
At the factory, he asked about him, learning he was ill.

The hospital staff was worried, But he'd given them a thrill.
The week that Jim was with them, Brought changes in the ward.
His smiles, a joy contagious. Changed people, were his reward.

The head nurse couldn't understand why Jim was so glad, when no flowers,
calls or cards came, Not a visitor he had.
The minister stayed by his bed, He voiced the nurse's concern:
No friends came to show they cared. He had nowhere to turn.

Looking surprised, old Jim spoke up and with a winsome smile;
"the nurse is wrong, she couldn't know, that in here all the while everyday at noon
He's here, a dear friend of mine, you see, He sits right down, takes my hand, Leans over and says to me:

"I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, JIM, HOW HAPPY I HAVE BEEN, SINCE WE FOUND THIS FRIENDSHIP, AND I TOOK AWAY YOUR SIN. ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR YOU PRAY, I THINK ABOUT YOU EACH DAY, ! AND SO JIM, THIS IS JESUS CHECKING IN TODAY."

† † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † † †
Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart. May God hold you in the palm of His hand and Angels watch over you. But for those of us who are already His, He not only holds us in the palm of His hand, but has engraved our names there, and we are continually in His sight (Isaiah 49:16)

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The Wanderer

2006-01-19T20:00:00.000-08:00

I sat, with two friends, in the picture window of a quaint restaurant just off the corner of the town-square. The food and the company were both especially good that day.

As we talked, my attention was drawn outside, across the street. There, walking into town, was a man who appeared to be carrying all his worldly goods on his back. He was carrying a well-worn sign that read, "I will work for food." My heart sank.

I brought him to the attention of my friends and noticed that others around us had stopped eating to focus on him. Heads moved in a mixture of sadness and disbelief. We continued with our meal, but his image lingered in my mind.

We finished our meal and went our separate ways. I had errands to do and quickly set out to accomplish them. I glanced toward the town square, looking somewhat halfheartedly for the strange visitor. I was fearful, knowing that seeing him again would call for some response. I drove through town and saw nothing of him. I made some purchases at a store and got back in my car.

Deep within me, the Spirit of God kept speaking to me: "Don't go back to the office until you've at least driven once more around the square."Then, with some hesitancy, I headed back into town. As I turned the square's third corner, I saw him. He was standing on the steps of the store front church, going through his sack.

I stopped and looked, feeling both compelled to speak to him, yet wanting to drive on. The empty parking space on the corner seemed to be a sign from God: an invitation to park. I pulled in, got out and approached the town's newest visitor.

"Looking for the pastor?" I asked.

"Not really," he replied, "just resting."

"Have you eaten today?"

"Oh, I ate something early this morning."

"Would you like to have lunch with me?"

"Do you have some work I could do for you?"

"No work," I replied. "I commute here to work from the city, but I would like to take you to lunch."

"Sure," he replied with a smile.

As he began to gather his things, I asked some surface questions. Where you headed?"

"St. Louis."

"Where you from?"

"Oh, all over; mostly Florida."

"How long have you been walking?"

"Fourteen years," came the reply.

I knew I had met someone unusual. We sat across from each other in the same restaurant I had left earlier. His face was weathered slightly beyond his 38 years. His eyes were dark, yet clear, and he spoke with an eloquence and articulation that was startling. He removed his jacket to reveal a bright red T-shirt that said, "Jesus is The Never Ending Story."

Then Daniel's story began to unfold. He had seen rough times early in life. He'd made some wrong choices and reaped the consequences. Fourteen years earlier, while backpacking across the country, he had stopped on the beach in Daytona.

He tried to hire on with some men who were putting up a large tent and some equipment. A concert, he thought.He was hired, but the tent would not house a concert but revival services, and in those services he saw life more clearly. He gave his life over to God.

"Nothing's been the same since," he said, "I felt the Lord telling me to keep walking, and so I did, some 14 years now."

"Ever think of stopping?" I asked.

"Oh, once in a while, when it seems to get the best of me. But God has given me this calling. I give out Bibles. That's what's in my sack. I work to buy food and Bibles, and I give them out when His Spirit leads."

I sat amazed. My homeless friend was not homeless. He was on a mission and lived this way by choice. The question burned inside for a moment and then I asked: "What's it like?"

"What?"

"To walk into a town carrying all your things on your back and to show your sign?"

"Oh, it was humiliating at first. People would stare and make comments. Once someone tossed a piece of half-eaten bread and made a gesture that certainly didn't make me feel welcome. But then it became humbling to realize that God was using me to touch lives and change people's concepts of other folks like me."

My concept was changing, too. We finished our dessert and gathered his things. Just outside the door, he paused. He turned to me and said, "Come Ye blessed of my Father and inherit the kingdom I've prepared for you. For when I was hungry you gave me food, when I was thirsty you gave me drink, a stranger and you took me in."I felt as if we were on holy ground.

"Could you use another Bible?" I asked.He said he preferred a certain translation. It traveled well and was not too heavy. It was also his personal favorite. "I've read through it 14 times," he said.

"I'm not sure we've got one of those, but let's stop by our church and see." I was able to find my new friend a Bible that would do well, and he seemed very grateful" Where are you headed from here?" I asked." Well, I found this little map on the back of this amusement park coupon."

"Are you hoping to hire on there for awhile?"

"No, I just figure I should go there. I figure someone under that star right there needs a Bible, so that's where I'm going next."He smiled, and the warmth of his spirit radiated the sincerity of his mission. I drove him back to the town square where we'd met two hours earlier, and as we drove, it started raining. We parked and unloaded his things."Would you sign my autograph book?" he asked. "I like to keep messages from folks I meet."

I wrote in his little book that his commitment to his calling had touched my life.

I encouraged him to stay strong. And I left him with a verse of scripture from Jeremiah, "I know the plans I have for you, declared the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you; Plans to give you a future and a hope."

"Thanks, man," he said. "I know we just met and we're really just strangers, but I love you."

"I know," I said, "I love you, too."

"The Lord is good!"

"Yes, He is."

"How long has it been since someone hugged you?" I asked."A long time," he replied. And so on the busy street corner in the drizzling rain, my new friend and I embraced, and I felt deep inside that I had been changed. He put his things on his back, smiled his winning smile, and said, "See you in the New Jerusalem."

"I'll be there!" was my reply.

He began his journey again. He headed away with his sign dangling from his bedroll and pack of Bibles. He stopped, turned, and said, "When you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?"

"You bet," I shouted back, "God bless."

"God bless." And that was the last I saw of him.

Late that evening as I left my office, the wind blew strong. The cold front had settled hard upon the town. I bundled up and hurried to my car. As I sat back and reached for the emergency brake, I saw them... a pair of well-worn brown work gloves neatly laid over the length of the handle. I picked them up and thought of my friend and wondered if his hands would stay warm that night without them.

Then I remembered his words: "If you see something that makes you think of me, will you pray for me?"

Today his gloves lie on my desk in my office. They help me to see the world and its people in a new way, and they help me remember those two hours with my unique friend and to pray for his ministry.

"See you in the New Jerusalem," he said. Yes, Daniel, I know I will..."
I shall pass this way but once. Therefore, any good that I can do or any kindness that I can show, let me do it now, for I shall not pass this way again."

This prayer is powerful. Prayer is one of the best gifts we receive. There is no cost, but a lot of rewards. Let's continue to pray for one another.

"Father, I ask you to bless my guests, friends, & relatives reading this right now. Show them a new revelation of your love and power. Holy Spirit, I ask you to minister to their spirit at this very moment.

Where there is pain, give them your peace and mercy. Where there is self-doubt, release a renewed confidence through your grace, in Jesus' precious Name.

Amen."

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The Hospital Window

2006-01-19T19:56:00.000-08:00

Every afternoon when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene.

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

Days and weeks passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed.

It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you."

Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.

Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy.

"Today is a gift, that's why it is called the present."

The origin of this letter is unknown.

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The Whipping

2006-01-19T19:36:00.000-08:00

There was a school with a class of students that no teacher had been able to handle. Two or three teachers had been run off from this school in one year by the unruly students.

A young man, just out of college, heard about the class and applied to the school.

The principal asked the young man, "Do you know what you are asking for? No one else has been able to handle these students. You are just asking for a terrible beating."

After a few moments of silent prayer, the young man looked at the principal and said, "Sir, with your consent I accept the challenge. Just give me a trial basis."

The next morning the young man stood before the class. He said to the class, "Young people, I came here today to conduct school. But I realize I can't do it by myself. I must have your help."

One big boy, they called Big Tom, in the back of the room whispered to his buddies, "I won't need any help. I can lick that little bird all by myself."

The young teacher told the class that if they were to have school, there would have to be some rules to go by. But he also added that he would allow the students to make up the rules and that he would list them on the blackboard.

This was certainly different, the students thought!

One young man suggested "NO STEALING." Another one shouted "BE ON TIME FOR CLASS." Pretty soon they had 10 rules listed on the board.

The teacher then asked the class what the punishment should be for breaking these rules? "The rules are no good unless they are enforced", he said. Someone in the class suggested that if the rules were broken, they should receive 10 licks with a rod across their back with their coat off. The teacher thought that this was pretty harsh, so he asked the class if they would stand by this punishment?

The class agreed. Everything went along pretty good for two or three days. Then Big Tom came in one day very upset. He declared that someone had stolen his lunch.

After talking with the students, they came to the conclusion that little Timmy had stolen Big Tom's lunch. Someone had seen little Timmy with Big Tom's lunch! The teacher called little Timmy up to the front of the classroom. Little Timmy admitted he had taken Big Tom's lunch. So the teacher asked him, "Do you know the punishment?" Little Timmy nodded that he did.

"You must remove your coat," the teacher instructed. The little fellow had come with a great big coat on. Little Timmy said to the teacher,"I am guilty and I am willing to take my punishment, but please don't make me take off my coat!"

The teacher reminded little Timmy of the rules and punishments and again told him he must remove his coat and take his punishment like a man. The little fellow started to unbutton that old coat. As he did so, the teacher saw he did not have a shirt on under the coat.

And even worse, he saw a frail and bony frame hidden beneath that coat. The teacher asked little Timmy why he had come to school without a shirt on? Little Timmy replied, "My daddy's dead and my mother is very poor. I don't have but one shirt, and my mother is washing it today. I wore my big brother's coat so that I could keep warm."

That young teacher stood and looked at the frail back with the spine
protruding against the skin, and his ribs sticking out. He wondered how
he could lay a rod on that little back, and without even a shirt on.

Still, he knew he must enforce the punishment or the children would not obey the rules. So he drew back to strike little Timmy. Just then Big Tom stood up and came down the aisle. He asked, "Is there anything that says that I can't take little Timmy's whipping for him?"

The teacher thought about it and agreed. With that, Big Tom ripped his coat off and stooped, and stood over little Timmy at the desk. Hesitatingly the teacher began to lay the rod on that big back. But for some strange reason after only five licks that old rod just broke in half.

The young teacher buried his face in his hands and began to sob. He heard a commotion and looked up to find not even one dry eye in the classroom. Little Timmy had turned and grabbed Big Tom around the neck apologizing to him for stealing his lunch.

Little Timmy begged Big Tom to forgive him. He told Big Tom that he would love him till the day he died for taking his whipping for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aren't you glad that Jesus took our whipping for us? That He shed His precious blood on Calvary so that you and I can have eternal life in Paradise with Him.

We are unworthy of the price He paid for us, but aren't you glad He loves us that much?

God bless you, and keep you safe.

Most people's troubles come from too much time on their hands - and not enough on their knees. For the Christian - Prayer is not an option but an opportunity.

"In prayer; expect setbacks, but refuse retreat."

Don't tell the Lord how big the problem is, tell the problem how Great the Lord is!

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Opening our Hearts

2006-01-07T21:11:00.000-08:00

Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and is rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.

Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.

Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job!) is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.

Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together.

Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not to just those who are close to us, but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judge and quick to forgive, show patience, empathy and love.

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SLOW DANCE

2006-01-06T21:11:00.000-08:00

by David L. Weatherford

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 neve r 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.

Interview with God

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The Interview With God

2006-01-06T20:03:00.000-08:00

God has created a BEAUTIFUL world! Thank you to the video artists for these two gorgeous presentations! They touched my heart very much, and I hope they will touch yours as well.

Video Presentation: Interview With God

Home Page: Interview With God Home Page

Pathways to Peace video presentation: Pathways to Peace

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Want to subscribe to many different types of Christian newsletters? Go here: Hundred-Acre-Woods

Beautiful new links to view: Andies Isle by Andie from Arizona

I Can Only Imagine

New 2006:

So Many Roads

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The Brick

2006-01-02T21:11:00.000-08:00

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.

The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?"

The young boy was apologetic. "Please, mister...please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do," He pleaded. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop..."

With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car. "It's my brother, "he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."

Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me." Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts. A quick look told him everything was going to be okay.

"Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the stranger. Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.

It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar. The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message:

"Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!"

God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts. Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.

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The Living Bible

2005-12-29T21:05:00.000-08:00

This is such a great example of The Living Bible.

His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college.

He is brilliant. Kind of profound and very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college. Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about it.

One day Bill decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair.

The service has already started and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat. The church is completely packed and he can't find a seat.

By now, people are really looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet.

By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick. About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill.

Now the deacon is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walks with a cane and, as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do.

How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor? It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy.

The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's cane. All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear anyone breathing. The minister can't even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do.

And now they see this elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With great difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill and worships with him so he won't be alone.

Everyone chokes up with emotion.

When the minister gains control, he says, "What I'm about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget."

"Be careful how you live. You may be the only Bible some people will ever read!"

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Merry Christmas!

2005-12-20T17:15:00.000-08:00

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Time is Too Short

2005-11-12T21:04:00.000-08:00

Tommy

Father John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago, writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy: Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith.That was the day I first saw Tommy.

My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn't what's on your head but what's in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under "S" for strange. . .very strange.

Tommy turned out to be the "atheist in residence" in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God.

We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew.

When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, "Do you think I'll ever find God?"

I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. "No!" I said very emphatically.

"Why not?" he responded, "I thought that was the product you were pushing."

I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out, Tommy! I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!"

He shrugged a little and left my class and my life. I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line --- He will find you! At least I thought it was clever.

Later I heard that Tommy had graduated and I was duly grateful. Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer.

Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm,for the first time, I believe.

"Tommy, I've thought about you so often; I hear you are sick," I blurted out.

"Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It's a matter of weeks."

"Can you talk about it, Tom?" I asked.

"Sure, what would you like to know?" he replied.

"What's it like to be only twenty-four and dying?"

"Well, it could be worse."

"Like what?"

"Well, like being fifty and having no values or ideals, like being fifty and thinking that booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies' in life."

I began to look through my mental file cabinet under 'S' where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)

But what I really came to see you about," Tom said, "is something you said to me on the last day of class." (He remembered!) He continued, "I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, 'No!' which surprised me. Then you said, 'But He will find you.' I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time.

(My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)

"But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that's when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened.

Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit.

"Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn't really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable.

I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: 'The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.'"

"So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him.

"Dad."
"Yes, what?" he asked without lowering the newspaper.

"Dad, I would like to talk with you."

"Well, talk."

"I mean . It's really important."

The newspaper came down three slow inches. "What is it?"

"Dad, I love you I just wanted you to know that."

Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him.

"The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me "

"It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years.

"I was only sorry about one thing --- that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.

"Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, C'mon, jump through. C'mon, I'll give You three days, three weeks."

"Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him."

"Tommy," I practically gasped, "I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need,but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He said: 'God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.'

Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn't be half as effective as if you were to tell it."

"Ooh . I was ready for you, but I don't know if I'm ready for your class."

"Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call."

In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date. However, he never made it.

He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed.

He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined.

Before he died, we talked one last time."I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.

"I know, Tom."

"Will you tell them for me? Will you tell the whole world for me?"

"I will, Tom. I'll tell them. I'll do my best"

So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God's love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven --- I told them, Tommy as best I could.

If this story means anything to you, please pass it on to a friend or two. It is a true story and is not enhanced for publicity purposes.

With thanks,
Rev. John Powell, Professor Loyola University in Chicago

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The Date

2005-11-12T20:52:00.000-08:00

After 21 years of marriage, my wife wanted me to take another woman out to dinner and a movie. She said, "I love you, but I know this other woman loves you and would love to spend some time with you."

The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my MOTHER, who has been a widow for 19 years, but the demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.

That night I called to invite her to go out for dinner and a movie.

"What's wrong, are you well," she asked?

My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.

"I thought that it would be pleasant to spend some time with you," I responded, "Just the two of us."

She thought about it for a moment, and then said, "I would like that very much."

That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.

When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our date. She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was as radiant as an angel's.

"I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting."

We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy.

My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady.

After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entries, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. "It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.

"Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor,"I responded. During the dinner, we had an agreeable conversation---nothing extra- ordinary but catching up on recent events of each other's life.

We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed.

"How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.

"Very nice; much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.

A few days later, my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.

Some time later, I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place mother and I had dined.

An attached note said: "I paid this bill in advance. I wasn't sure that I could be there; but nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife.

You will never know what that night meant for me.

I love you, son."

At that moment, I understood the importance of saying in time:

"I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve.

Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time."

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Psalm 23

2005-11-09T02:34:00.000-08:00

A new perspective....

The Lord is my Shepherd

~That's Relationship!

I shall not want

~That's Supply!

He maketh me to lie down in green pasture

~That's Rest!

He leadeth me beside the still waters

~That's Refreshment!

He restoreth my soul

~That's Healing!

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness

~That's Guidance!

For His name sake

~That's Purpose!

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death

~That's Testing!

I will fear no evil

~That's Protection!

For Thou art with me

~That's Faithfulness!

Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me

~That's Discipline!

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies

~That's Hope!

Thou annointest my head with oil

~That's Consecration!

My cup runneth over

~That's Abundance!

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life

~That's Blessing!

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord

~That's Security!

Forever

~That's Eternity!

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A perfect mistake

2005-11-09T02:28:00.000-08:00

Grandpa Nybakken loved life—especially when he could play a trick on somebody. At those times, his large Norwegian frame shook with laughter while he feigned innocent surprise, exclaiming, “Oh, forevermore!” But on a cold Saturday in downtown Chicago, Grandpa felt that God played a trick on him, and Grandpa wasn’t laughing.

Mother’s father worked as a carpenter. On this particular day, he was building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to an orphanage in China. On his way home, he reached into his shirt pocket to find his glasses, but they were gone. He remembered putting them there that morning, so he drove back to the church. His search seemed fruitless.

When he mentally replayed his earlier actions, he realized what had happened. The glasses had slipped out of his pocket unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had nailed shut. His brand new glasses were heading for China!

Times were hard, and Grandpa had six children. He had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning. “It’s not fair,” he told God as he drove home in frustration. “I’ve been very faithful in giving of my time and money to your work, and now this.”

Several months later, the director of the orphanage was on furlough in the United States, so he came to speak one Sunday night at my grandfather’s small church in Chicago. Grandpa and his family sat in their customary seats among the sparse congregation.

The missionary began by thanking the people for their faithfulness in supporting the orphanage.

But most of all,” he said, “I must thank you for the glasses you sent last year. You see, the Communists had just swept through the orphanage, destroying everything, including my glasses. I was desperate.

“Even if I had the money, there was simply no way of replacing those glasses. Along with not being able to see well, I experienced headaches every day, so my co-workers and I were much in prayer about this. Then your crates arrived. When my staff removed the covers, they found a pair of glasses lying on top.”

The missionary paused long enough to let the words sink in. Then, still gripped with the wonder of it all, he continued, “Folks, when I tried on those glasses, it was as though they had been custom-made just for me! I want to thank you for being a part of that.”

The people listened, happy for the miraculous glasses. But the missionary surely must have confused their church with another, they thought. There were no glasses on their list of items to be sent overseas.

But sitting quietly in the back, with tears streaming down his face, an ordinary carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used him in an extraordinary way.

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Via Email.....

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Before I was a Mom

2005-11-09T02:15:00.000-08:00

Before I was a Mom I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby. I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous. I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom - I had never been puked on. Pooped on. Chewed on. Peed on. I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts. I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom I never held down a screaming child so doctors could do tests. Or give shots. I never looked into teary eyes and cried. I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin. I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down. I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt. I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much. I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom - I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body. I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby. I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child. I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom - I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay. I had never known the warmth, The joy, The love, The heartache, The wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom. I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom.

And before I was a Grandma, I didn't know that all those "Mom" feelings more than doubled when you see that little bundle being held by "your baby"...

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Eye of God

2005-11-09T01:53:00.000-08:00

Email example contributed by A. Lieb, 27 July 2003

This is indeed an authentic photograph — or rather, composite of photos — taken by NASA's Hubble Space Telescope and the Kitt Peak National Observatory in Arizona. It was featured on NASA's Website as an Astronomy Picture of the Day in May 2003 and thereafter posted on a number of Websites under the title "The Eye of God" (though I couldn't find evidence that NASA has ever referred to it as such). The awe-inspiring image has also been featured on magazine covers and in articles about space imagery.

The image depicts the so-called Helix Nebula, described by astronomers as "a trillion-mile-long tunnel of glowing gases." At its center is dying, Sun-like star which has ejected masses of dust and gas to form tentacle-like filaments stretching toward an outer rim composed of the same material. The Sun itself may look like this in several billion years.

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It's the power of prayer

2005-10-20T16:40:00.000-07:00

For where two or three are gathered together
in my name,there am I in the midst of them.

Matthew 18:20

Does this count?

It doesn't matter how many people you send this to, just remember if it made you smile, your friends will smile, too.

It's the power of prayer

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Daddy's Empty Chair

2005-10-19T11:20:00.000-07:00

A man's daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her father.

When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows. An empty chair sat beside his bed. The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit.

"I guess you were expecting me, he said.

'No, who are you?" said the father.

The minister told him his name and then remarked,
"I saw the empty chair and I figured you knew I was going to show up,"

"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man.
"Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the minister shut the door.

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

"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued,
"until one day four years ago, my best friend said to me,
"Johnny, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus.
Here is what I suggest."

"Sit down in a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because He promised, 'I will be with you always'.

"Then just speak to Him in the same way you're doing with me right now."

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

The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and returned to the church.

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

Did he die in peace?" he asked.

Yes, when I left the house about two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me how much he loved me and kissed me on the cheek.

When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead.

But there was something strange about his death.

Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside the bed.

What do you make of that?"

The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said,

"I wish we could all go like that."

~~Author Unknown~~

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The Puppy

2005-10-16T01:12:00.000-07:00

A farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. He painted a sign advertising the 4 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 some what 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 dogs would.

"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.

"With tears in his eyes, the farmer reached down and picked up the little pup.

Holding it carefully he handed it to the little boy. "How much?" asked the little boy. "No charge," answered the farmer, "There's no charge for love."

The world is full of people who need someone who understands and loves so unconditionally!

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Ok, if you haven't wiped away at least one tear, your heart is too hard!

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The Christmas Miracle

2005-10-16T00:56:00.000-07:00

The Big Wheel

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two.

Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings,but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best home made dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.

Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night.

I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep.

This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job.

And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money--fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage.The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana ? I wondered.

I made a deal with the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in theBig Wheel. These were the truckers: Les, Frank, and Jim, and a statetrooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.

The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full tothe top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.

I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans.

Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.

As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.

Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop....

THE POWER OF PRAYER.

I believe that God only gives three answers to prayer:
1. "Yes!"
2. "Not yet."
3. "I have something better in mind.

"God still sits on the throne, the devil is a liar.

You may be going through a tough time right now but God is getting ready to bless you in a way that you cannot imagine!

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Ok, you crying yet?

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In God We Trust

2005-10-16T00:44:00.000-07:00

You always hear the usual stories of pennies on the sidewalk being good luck, gifts from angels, etc. This is the first time I've ever heard this twist on the story. Gives you something to think about.

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

The first day and evening went well, and Arlene was delighted to have this rare glimpse into how the very wealthy live. The husband's employer was quite generous as a host, and took them to the finest restaurants.

Arlene knew she would never have the opportunity to indulge in this kind of extravagance again, so was enjoying herself immensely. As the three of them were about to enter an exclusive restaurant that evening, the boss was walking slightly ahead of Arlene and her husband.

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

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

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

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

"Look at it." He said.

"Read what it says." She read the words "United States of America."

"No, not that; read further."

"One cent?"

"No, keep reading."

"In God we Trust?"

"Yes!"

"And?"

"And if I trust in God, the name of God is holy, even on a coin. Whenever I find a coin I see that inscription. It is written on every single United States coin, but we never seem to notice it!

God drops a message right in front of me telling me to trust Him? Who am I to pass it by? When I see a coin, I pray, I stop to see if my trust IS in God at that moment. I pick the coin up as a response to God; that I do trust in Him. For a short time, at least, I cherish it as if it were gold.

I think it is God's way of starting a conversation with me. Lucky for me, God is patient and pennies are plentiful!

When I was out shopping today, I found a penny on the sidewalk. I stopped and picked it up, and realized that I had been worrying and fretting in my mind about things I cannot change. I read the words, "In God We Trust," and had to laugh.

Yes, God, I get the message. It seems that I have been finding an inordinate number of pennies in the last few months, but then, pennies are plentiful!

And, God is patient...

Have a blessed day!!

The best mathematical equation I have ever seen:
1 cross
3 nails
--------
4 given

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Tuna on Highway 81

2005-10-16T00:35:00.000-07:00

**I cannot attest to the truth of this....it came to me via email. Real or fiction, I don't think it matters. The message is what is important....

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I just returned from New Jersey. While en route there, I was stuck in traffic on Interstate 81, just below the Virginia state line, (Bristol,Tennessee), due to a traffic accident with a fatality involved.

This accident involved a tanker truck hauling a hazardous material load that developed a leak, which meant that we weren't going anywhere for several hours. After being told by the Tennessee state troopers that we would be sitting still until the clean up was completed, I set my brakes on the truck and got out to stretch my legs. Other truck drivers did the same, and at one point there were 5 of us standing there by my truck, complaining.

Sitting right beside me in the left lane, were two elderly people in a Silverado pick up truck, which was loaded quite well. The man, (Joe), lowered his window and asked what was going on regarding the traffic situation.

Soon we were all talking with this couple. I mentioned that if I had known about this, I would have bought something to drink, (water), for I was becoming thirsty. The lady, (Anna), said that they had plenty of water, and sodas in the cooler in the bed of the truck, and offered everyone present something. While she was back there, she said that she had plenty of tuna salad made up, and asked if we would be interested in a sandwich. After some urging from Joe, we agreed to a sandwich. While Anna was making the sandwiches on the tailgate of the truck, she was singing like a songbird. To be close to 70, (I guess), she had a remarkable voice.

When she finished making the sandwiches, and putting everything up, Joe raised the tailgate of the truck to close it. I noticed a Mississippi license plate on it. I inquired as to what part of Mississippi they were from. Joe said Biloxi. Knowing that Biloxi had been ravaged also by hurricane Katrina, I asked if they sustained any damage. Joe said that they lost everything but what they had on and what was in the pickup. All of us drivers tried unsuccessfully to pay them for their drinks and the sandwiches. They would have nothing to do with it. Joe said that their son was living around Harrisonburg, Virginia and that they were going there. He was in the real estate business and that there was a home that became open, and that they were going to start all over there. Starting over at their age would not be easy.

I will soon be 48 years old, and I have say that I have never eaten a tuna sandwich with side orders of reality and humility. These people lost everything except the pictures, important documents, and some clothes. Joe had managed to get their antique heirloom grandfathers clock into the bed of the truck and Anna got her china and silverware, but that was all. These wonderful people lost practically everything they owned and still would not accept any money for their food and drinks. Joe said that "it was better to give than it is to receive." They sought refuge behind a block wall that he had built years ago, and they watched their belongings and their home disappear in the winds of Hurricane Katrina. Joe said that during all this he had one hand holding onto Anna and the other holding on to God. Their truck and themselves came out of Katrina unscathed.

As I stated before, Anna was singing a song while making the sandwich. The song is titled "I know who holds tomorrow," an old gospel song. She knew every word, and was quite a gifted singer of it. Have you ever heard it?

The chorus of this song is, " Many things, about tomorrow, I don't seem to understand. But I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand."

There is no doubt, in my mind, who was holding both their hands. I know there have been many, many email that have circulated over the years about things that will touch your heart, but this one I personally was involved in.

Forget all of the politics that the news is striving on, and think about people just like Joe and Anna. If you can, help out with the victims relief funds. If you cannot, at least offer a prayer for everyone.

Do what you wish with this email, forward it, delete it, whatever. I know that these two elderly people got to this old boy. I will always remember them. Joe and Anna, if by some strange way you, or someone you know gets this, and shows it to you, God Bless you!

Mike Dowdy
Hartselle, Alabama

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Sweet Sappies

Professor gives his final lecture

The World's Strongest Dad

The donut master. A Fable

Woman

God Lives Under the Bed

The Smell of Rain

Bruised Apples

The Competition

Nail in the Fence

20 bucks

Sand and Stone

The Duck and the devil

Windshield thoughts of a 6 year old

Grandma's Hands

Night Watch

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER

Life Lessons

I Wish You Enough

Answered Prayers

AND GOD SAID...

My Attorney

A Baby's Hug

Just Checking In

The Wanderer

The Hospital Window

The Whipping

Opening our Hearts

SLOW DANCE

The Interview With God

The Brick

The Living Bible

Merry Christmas!

Time is Too Short

The Date

Psalm 23

A perfect mistake

Before I was a Mom

Eye of God

It's the power of prayer

~~Daddy's Empty Chair~~

The Puppy

The Christmas Miracle

In God We Trust

Tuna on Highway 81

Daddy's Empty Chair