The following short stories are free to use as you see fit, all have a truth to them that deserves pondering and consideration.
Palm Monday A story to live by Put evolution in it's place A Shmily for you The Rock Two Babes in a Manger Vincent Story of the Eagle The Butterfly The Car The Golden Crane The Grandfather's Table The new Ten Commandments Moving Mountains New Prints in the Sand Rescue at Sea Mathematical Miracles For All of us in a Hurry An Amazing Story Angels, Once in a While Despise Not Small Beginnings Does God Still Speak to Us? Teacher is the Student Racial Prejudice A Soldier's Christmas
The donkey awakened, his mind still savoring the afterglow of the most exciting day of his life.
Never before had he felt such a rush of pleasure and pride.
He walked into town and found a group of people by the well. "I'll show myself to them" he thought.
But they didn't notice him. They went on drawing their water and paid him no mind.
"Throw your garments down," he said crossly. "Don't you know who I am?"
They just looked at him in amazement. Someone slapped him across the tail and ordered him to move.
"Miserable heathens!" he muttered to himself. "I'll just go to the market where the good people are. They will remember me."
But the same thing happened. No one paid any attention to the donkey as he strutted down the main street in front of the market place.
"The palm branches! Where are the palm branches!" he shouted.
"Yesterday, you threw palm branches!"
Hurt and confused, the donkey returned home to his mother.
"Foolish child," she said gently. "Don't you realize that without
Him, you are just an ordinary donkey?"
Just like the donkey who carried Jesus in Jerusalem, we are most fulfilled when we are in the service of Jesus Christ. Without him, all our best efforts are like "filthy rags" (Isaiah 64:6) and amount to nothing. When we lift up Christ, however, we are no longer ordinary people but key players in God's plan to redeem the world.
by Ann Wells (Los Angeles Times)
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package.
"This," he said, "is not a slip. This is lingerie." He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.
"Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion." He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. "Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion." I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death. I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives. I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done. I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life. I'm reading more and dusting less. I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the weeds in the garden. I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in committee meetings.
Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure. I'm not "saving" anything; we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom. I wear my good blazer to the market if I like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing. I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as my party-going friends.
"Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary. If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now. I'm not sure what my sister would've done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. I think she would have called family members and a few close friends. She might have called a few former friends to apologize and mend fences for past squabbles. I like to think she would have gone out for a Chinese dinner, her favorite food. I'm guessing - I'll never know.
It's those little things left undone that would make me angry if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom I was going to get in touch with - someday. Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write - one of these days. Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough how much I truly love them.
I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives. And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special. Every day, every minute, every breath truly is... a gift from God.
One day a 6 year old girl was sitting in the classroom. The teacher was going to explain evolution to the children. The teacher asked a little boy:
Teacher: Tommy do you see the tree out side?
Tommy: Yes.
Teacher: Tommy, do you see the grass out side?
Tommy: Yes.
Teacher: Go out side and look up and see if you can see the sky.
Tommy: OK. (He returned a few minutes later) Yes, I saw the sky.
Teacher: Did you see God?
Tommy: No.
Teacher: That's my point. We can't see God because he isn't there. A little girl spoke up and wanted to ask the boy some questions. Teacher agreed and she asked the boy:
Little Girl: Tommy, do you see the tree outside?
Tommy: Yes.
Little girl: Tommy do you see the grass outside?
Tommy: Yessssss (getting tired of the questions by this time)
Little girl Did you see the sky?
Tommy: Yessssss
Little Girl: Tommy, do you see the teacher?
Tommy: Yes
Little Girl: Do you see her brain?
Tommy: No
Little Girl: Does that mean she doesn't have one?
FOR WE WALK BY FAITH, NOT BY SIGHT II CORINTHIANS 5:7
My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.
They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. "Shmily" was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet.
There was no end to the places "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering wheels. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in the ashes of the fireplace. This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.
It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grandparents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents' relationship. They had love down pat. It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky experience.
Grandma and Grandpa held hands every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble. My grandma whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew "how to pick 'em." Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other.
But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life: my grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside.
Now the cancer was again attacking her body. With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone.
"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby.
Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love, I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.
S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.
A man was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light and the Savior appeared. The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might. The man did this, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might. Each night the man returned to his cabin sore, and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain. Since the man was showing signs of discouragement, Satan decided to enter the picture by placing thoughts into the man's mind:
"You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't budged. Why kill yourself over this? You are never going to move it."
Thus giving the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure, these thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man. "Why kill myself over this?" he thought.
"I'll just put in my time, giving just the minimum effort and that will be good enough."
Then he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord.
"Lord," he said, "I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock by half a millimeter.
What is wrong? Why am I failing?" The Lord responded compassionately:
"My child, when I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. Now you come to me, with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But, is that really so? Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back sinewed and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition you have grown much and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet, you haven't moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. This you have done. I will now move the rock. At times when we hear a word from God, we tend to use our own intellect to decipher what He wants, when actually what God wants is just simple obedience and faith in Him. By all means, exercise the faith that moves mountains, but it is still God who moves the mountains.
Two Babes in a Manger
In 1994, two Americans answered an invitation from the
Russian Department of Education to teach morals and ethics (based on
biblical principles) in the public schools. They were invited to teach
at prisons, businesses, the fire and police departments and a large
orphanage. About 100 boys and girls who had been abandoned, abused, and
left in the care of a government-run program were in the orphanage. They
relate the following story in their own words:
It was nearing the holiday season, 1994, time for our orphans to
hear, for the first time, the traditional story of Christmas. We told
them about Mary and Joseph arriving in Bethlehem. Finding no room in the
inn, the couple went to a stable, where the baby Jesus was born and
placed in a manger. Throughout the story, the children and orphanage staff
sat in amazement as they listened. Some sat on the edges of their stools,
trying to grasp every word. Completing the story, we gave the children
three small pieces of cardboard to make a crude manger. Each child was
given a small paper square, cut from yellow napkins I had brought with
me. No colored paper was available in the city. Following instructions, the
children tore the paper and carefully laid strips in the manger for straw.
Small squares of flannel, cut from a worn~out nightgown an American lady was
throwing away as she left Russia, were used for the baby's blanket. A
doll~like baby was cut from tan felt we had brought from the United States.
The orphans were busy assembling their manger as I walked among them to see
if they needed any help. All went well until I got to one table where little
Misha sat. He looked to be about 6 years old and had finished his project. As
I looked at the little boy's manger, I was startled to see not one, but two
babies in the manger. Quickly, I called for the translator to ask the lad why
there were two babies in the manger. Crossing his arms in front of him andlooking at this completed
manger scene, the child began to repeat the story very seriously. For such a
young boy, who had only heard the Christmas story once, he related the
happenings accurately...until he came to the part where Mary put the baby
Jesus in the manger. Then Misha started to ad-lib. He made up his own ending
to the story as he said, "And when Maria laid the baby in the manger, Jesus
looked at me and asked me if I had a place to stay. I told him I have no
mamma and I have no papa, so I don't have any place to stay. Then Jesus told
me I could stay with him. But I told him I couldn't, because I didn't have a
gift to give him like everybody else did. But I wanted to stay with Jesus so
much, so I thought about what I had that maybe I could use for a gift. I
thought maybe if I kept him warm, that would be a good gift. So I asked
Jesus, "If I keep you warm, will that be a good enough gift?" And Jesus told
me, "If you keep me warm, that will be the best gift anybody ever gave me."
"So I got into the manger, and then Jesus looked at me and he told me I could
stay with him...for always." As little Misha finished his story, his eyes
brimmed full of tears
that splashed down his little cheeks. Putting his hand over his face, his head dropped to the table and his shoulders shook as he sobbed and
sobbed. The little orphan had found someone who would never abandon nor
abuse him, someone who would stay with him...FOR ALWAYS.
(THE FOLLOWING STORY HAS BEEN CONFIRMED)
While in the process of investigating two other incidents, I learned of this
next amazing one from a person in California, although it took place in
Tennessee. It happened just past midnight on March 26, 1993, to Vincent Tan, an
analytical chemist who works in Chattanooga. I spent weeks personally tracing
this incident and have confirmed it with two reputable Christian leaders, his
pastor and, finally, even Vincent himself. The following is a precisely recorded
account:
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Vincent was born "Tan Ban Soon" in Singapore of Chinese, Buddhist parents. A few
years ago as a young boy in Singapore, he was in the library reading a book on
nuclear physics and discovered an offer for a Bible course stuck between some
pages. He ordered the course and later became a Christian. He came to the U.S.
to attend a Christian college, then gave himself the western name of Vincent.
After four years, he graduated with a major in science. Vincent has been very
active in his church and in sharing his faith. On the night of Thursday, March
25, 1993, Vincent was working late in his laboratory to complete tests due on
Friday.
During the evening he moved his car close to the front door of the building,
since there had recently been criminal activity in the area. From time to time
he looked out the window into the almost empty parking lot to check on his car.
At 1:30 a.m. he finished working in his lab.
As Vincent was preparing to lock the door, he saw a person standing by the
passenger side of his car. Vincent assumed the man was trying to steal his car.
He noted that the stranger was of medium build with clean-cut, straight hair,
had on a T-shirt, blue jeans and white tennis shoes. Unsure what to do, he went
back into the lab and prayed, "Lord, help me to do what I have to do. Do I have
to use chi-sao?" Chi-sao (pronounced "chee'-sow-o") is a form of martial art in
which Vincent is proficient. To be extra safe, he looked around the lab and
picked up an 18-inch metal rod, held it behind him and stuck his head out the
door. "Hi, can I help you?" he asked.
The stranger answered, "Hi, Vincent."
Startled, Vincent asked, "Do I know you?"
The stranger replied, "Not really."
"What is your name? Who are you?" Vincent probed.
The stranger answered, "I have the name of your primary and secondary school."
He added, "I'm a friend. You don't have to use chi-sao or the rod on me." His
voice had unusual authority, and it seemed he knew the question before it was
asked.
Now Vincent was really startled. No one, not even his best friend in this
country, was familiar with 'chi-sao,' nor did anyone even know that he knew it.
Also, there was no way the stranger could have seen the rod behind his back.
Vincent later reflected that the stranger had used terminology ("primary and
secondary school") of Singapore and not the U.S., and that name
of his school back in Singapore was 'St. Gabriel.' The stranger was saying that
his name was Gabriel!
"How do you know that?" Vincent asked.
"I know," the stranger replied. "By the way, Mum is fine." Vincent was startled
again. Just the week before, his sister had called from Singapore saying that
his mother had heart complications, and Vincent had been quite worried about
her.
Gabriel continued, "You love the Lord very much, don't you?"
"That's right," Vincent replied.
"He loves you very much, too," Gabriel said. Then he added, "He is
coming very, very soon." He seemed to emphasize the "very soon."
Vincent answered, "That's great!"
Gabriel then asked, "Can I have a cup of water?"
Vincent replied, "Sure," and turned momentarily to get him the water.
Then he decided to invite the stranger inside to drink from the water fountain.
He turned back to invite him inside -- but Gabriel was not there. He had
suddenly and unexplainably vanished! Vincent had not turned his head for more
than three seconds. There was no place for the stranger to have gone.
Puzzled, and not wanting to go back into the lab, Vincent laid the metal rod
down by the front door and headed to his home outside of Chattanooga. When he
came back to work later that morning, he wondered if he had dreamed the whole
experience. As a scientist, he wanted to prove whether it had really happened.
When he got to the building, he found the metal rod lying by the door just where
he had left it. He knew he had not been dreaming. Upon entering the lab, the
first thing he did was to lock himself in the rest room and kneel in prayer.
"Show me what to do, Lord. I know what I
remember. If I'm supposed to share it, I must believe it myself," Vincent
pleaded. He then sat down at his computer and recorded every word said and
everything that had happened.
That night, March 26, 1993, in a dream Vincent relived the whole experience,
seeing himself, and word for word hearing the whole conversation.
He awoke at about 3:30 a.m. and wrote down every word in the dream and the
description of the stranger. What he wrote from the dream confirmed every detail
he had written earlier.
Also, a week after the experience, he learned that his mother had received
needed surgery and was recuperating nicely -- and that the medical decision
about her improved condition came a week earlier at about the very same hour as
he was talking with Gabriel!
On July 29, 1993 I asked Vincent what effect this experience has had on him. He
said he believes more strongly now that we should be ready every day for the
Lord's coming, and not worry about which day He will come. He said the
experience has intensified his dedication, causing him to spend more devotional
time than before.
I recently confirmed personally with Vincent that he has had another encounter,
this time with an unnamed angel, on Thursday, December 23, 1993. Like the
above, the following is an accurate record of exactly what happened and words
exchanged:
Two Significant Prior Events.
There are two events that have a bearing on this one.
First, in July, 1993, Vincent had a dream. He saw himself standing at the door
of a big room. He saw many candles, but not all of them were lit. He asked
himself in the dream why the unlit candles. Then he heard a sad voice behind him
saying, "If only all of them were lit." He turned around but didn't see anyone.
A week later he had the exact same dream. Vincent shared the dreams in his Bible
study and said he hoped someday the Lord would show him the meaning of the
dreams.
Second, three months later in October, 1993 a stranded motorist waved Vincent
down and asked him to jump start his car. Vincent stopped but did not have a
cable. However, Vincent asked the man if he believed in God. The man asked what
could God do. Vincent told him he believed that God could help in any situation
such as this if we ask Him. So Vincent prayed out loud for God's help. After he
prayed Vincent noticed a coat hanger on the road. Somehow, he figured out a way
to break the coat hanger in two and use one part to connect the positive
terminals and the other part to touch the two auto bodies together as ground.
The man's car started. He looked at Vincent and said, "You sure have a powerful
God!"
Vincent replied, "I sure do. All we have to do is believe in Him."
The man said, "I'll have to think about that," and left.
Two days later, Vincent got a jumper cable for his truck.
The December 23, 1993 Experience
Shortly after 11 p.m., December 23, 1993, Vincent was in his truck returning
home from visiting a friend near Chattanooga. About four miles away from the
friend's home, he saw a truck alongside the road with its hood up and with an
old man, estimated at about age 75, standing in front of it. Vincent was always
wary of stopping for strangers, and believed one must really be led of the Lord
in order to do so. He felt he should stop.
He walked up to the man and asked if anything was wrong, to which the man
replied that he had a dead battery. Vincent asked if he could help in any way.
The man asked that Vincent go get his jumper cable out of the truck. Vincent was
surprised that he said this, as if knowing that Vincent
had a jumper cable, especially since he had only recently obtained one. Vincent
himself had forgotten that he had the cable, but when the old man told him about
it he remembered.
It was very dark and Vincent had to use his flashlight to see to connect his end
of the cable.
Then he turned around to
discover that the man had already connected his end, even in the dark and with
no flashlight. That seemed impossible and startled Vincent.
Vincent said, "I need to do something first."
The man looked at him and said, "I did it already."
Vincent said, "Did what?"
The man responded, "I placed the bricks by your tires. That's what you want,
isn't it?"
The man had no way of knowing that Vincent had two bricks in his truck or that
Vincent wanted to block his tires with them because he didn't trust his hand
brake and because the gear would have to be in neutral to start the other truck.
Vincent checked and discovered that the man had
placed the bricks behind the exact same tires that Vincent wanted. At this
point, Vincent was convinced that this was not a natural person!
And after the experience in March, Vincent had decided that if the Lord ever
gave him the privilege of another encounter with an angel, he had many questions
he wanted to ask. But he had a sudden feeling come over him and some force
caused his mouth to be kept shut. He was not able to say anything except to
respond to whatever the old man wanted or said.
Vincent was now ready to start the truck, and the old man said, "Can we wait in
your truck and have my truck charged up?"
Vincent agreed and they sat in his truck.
The old man spoke first and said, "Can we pray? God can work miracles -- even
start a car with a coat hanger." (The previous incident with the coat hanger job
was a car and not a truck!) At this, Vincent said to himself that this stranger
must be an angel!
The old man prayed: "Oh most holy and powerful God in heaven, we know you are
coming very, very soon. Help us now in your own time and way. In Jesus' Name.
Amen." Vincent said the man's voice was so powerful and assuring that it sent
chills through him.
After the prayer the man asked Vincent, "Do you believe the Lord is coming
soon?"
Vincent replied, "Yes."
Then the man said, "He is coming very, very soon, and we need to be ready now
and always. Can I use your Bible?" Vincent agreed.
Then without any word from Vincent the man reached into the glove compartment
for the Bible, already knowing where it was located. He asked Vincent, "Do you
read your Bible?"
Vincent replied that he tried to read it every day.
The man said, "That's very
good. It's unfortunate that many do not do that. Having Bible studies is like
being in a big room with many candles lit." With that comment, Vincent knew he
had God's answer about his dreams six months earlier. The unlit candles meant
many people were not spending time studying God's Word! Now Vincent had
absolutely no doubt that this was
an angel!
It was very dark, but the man took Vincent's King James Bible and, without
searching, flipped immediately to the exact page, to Matthew, chapter 24.
Then Vincent shined the flashlight on the page as the man read verse 36: "But
of that day and hour knoweth no man, not the angels of heaven, but my Father
only."
He then jumped down to verse 42: "Watch therefore, for ye know not what hour
your Lord doth come." Then again, as if knowing exactly where the page was,
without searching he flipped to John, chapter 14, and read verses 1-3: "Let not
your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. In my Father's
house are many mansions: if it were not so, I would have told you. I go to
prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come
again,
and receive you unto myself; that where I am, there ye may be also."
Then again, the man amazingly flipped directly to Revelation 3, Verse 11, and
read: "Behold, I come quickly: hold that fast which thou hast, that no man take
thy crown."
Vincent reflected that all three passages, and everything the man said was about
the Lord's return. After reading, the man put the Bible back in the glove
compartment and said, "The truck is ready." He started the truck and Vincent
said he would follow him for awhile to make sure everything was okay. The man
said, "Thank you very much for your help. By the way, I left a
small token for you. It will be enough to fill up your car tomorrow." That was
strange, because there was no way for the man to know that Vincent had a car in
addition to his truck.
Vincent followed him
about a mile with the man's tail lights clearly in view, then as they were going
around a curve, he suddenly vanished from view. He and his truck just
disappeared!
Thinking his vision may have been obstructed by trees or something, Vincent even
went back the next day during the daylight and retraced everything. There were
no trees or anything obstructing his view. There was no human explanation.
The next day, as he always does on Friday, Vincent took his car to the service
station to fill up the tank with gasoline, so it would be full for the weekend.
He had forgotten what the man had said about leaving a token "to fill up your
car tomorrow." Vincent put $2.32 worth of gas in his car, then tried to round it
off to $2.35 or $2.40. But he could only get it up to $2.34 and it stopped. It
just would not take more than exactly $2.34. Vincent then left to visit a
friend's house, but remembered that he had left the friend's Christmas gift in
his truck, so he went back home. When home, Vincent decided to clean his truck a
bit before leaving. While doing
so, he found some money on the front seat, passenger's side, underneath his
glove. The money consisted of two one-dollar bills, a quarter, a nickel, and
four pennies -- exactly $2.34!
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Editorial Comments
Incident # 3 above about "Gabriel" motivated me to review references in the
Bible to the angel Gabriel. By name, Gabriel appeared to three people. The
first was to the prophet Daniel in about 550 B.C. He gave Daniel a vision of the
future, including the timing of Christ's first coming. And similar to the
message to Vincent, he said to Daniel, "You are greatly beloved."
Later, as recorded in Luke, Gabriel appeared to Zechariah, saying these awesome
words, "I am Gabriel, who stands in the presence of God," as he announced the
birth of John the Baptist; then shortly thereafter he appeared to the virgin
Mary to announce the birth of Christ. Gabriel's main function in both Old and
New Testaments seems to be in connection with announcing the coming of the Son
of God to the world. Angels who appear as humans are not without biblical
precedent. For example, two angels came to Sodom to warn Lot before they
destroyed the city
(Genesis 19). They visited Lot's home, ate with him, and even spent the night!
They appeared as such "real people" that Sodom's homosexuals tried to accost
them and have sex with them, but the angels struck them blind. The next day,
because of its blatant wickedness, God destroyed the city by fire (an act that
would be considered "homophobic" and not "politically correct"
in America today).
Several years ago I received some
teaching about Eagles and their relationship to us as a Christians. So, now the
question was asked how does the life of an Eagle compare to
that of a Christian.. Well let's see.. In Alaska a few years back a road was
being built and as the engineers and surveyors were planning the course they
came upon an area that was next to a cliff and had a few trees around,
especially a large one. The general consensus was to cut the tree down and blow
through the cliff; however, as was later learned there was an Eagles nest in
the top of the tree and they were not allowed to build the road in that area.
Eagles build their nest near cliffs, which have running water near by.
Their nest can weigh up to 2500 LB...
Eagles mate for life. When a male Eagle sees a possible mate they both fly up to
about 3000 feet where the female Eagle wraps her wings (tremendous wing span)
around the male and they begin to fall out of the sky. When they reach a certain
height (only determined by them) she looses the male Eagle and they both fly
back up again to about 3000 feet and the male performs the same ritual with the
female. This develops trust between them, because if they wait too long to loose
each other, you guessed it, they would hit the ground.
The Eagle can fly higher than any other known bird. (At 10,000 feet the FAA
requires commercial pilots to go on Oxygen) It has been verified that a
commercial flight was at
35,000 when something hit the windshield and broke it in several pieces.
They landed and found a Salmon inside. They concluded that they had frightened an Eagle and (it) had dropped its meal.
The Indians love to watch the Eagles build their nest and to just watch them and record their activities. They tell a story about an Eagle that they saw (Eagles weigh about 14 lbs) which was flying to his nest carrying a small doe (100 lbs). After about 5 miles the load became to heavy and the Eagle dropped it. I call that strong!
They
work together to build their nest, they get sticks and stand them together,
something like a Teepee and then they take the skin of the animals that they
have killed and cover the nest making it warn and comfortable. When they have
babies, what do you call them Eaglets. After they
have been in the nest a while---it is time. The female Eagle begins to take some
of the skins from the nest which makes it very uncomfortable for the Eaglets and
they scream. The female Eagle then puts her wing out for the babies to get on.
They are so uncomfortable in the nest now that they agree. They get on the wing
and she takes them up to about 2500 feet and goes into what a pilot would call a
slip.
As the Eaglets fall off and begin to fall to the ground, just before they hit,
she swoops down and catches them on her wings and repeats this until they learn
to fly. Does not God do us the same way? The male Eagle is at 10000 feet
(approximately) guarding. He is watching over his children
to see that no harm comes to them from the Condor.
God watches over us, does He not? Scripture Deuteronomy 32:11 The only serious
enemy of the Eagle is the Condor which has a wingspread of 9 feet and is total
length of 3 1/2 feet. The Eagle usually does not fight, he has the ability to
fly closer to the sun than any other bird we know of, when he is attack, he
flies into the sun.
Hummm runs to the SON when he has a problem. We all should. Here is the
interesting part. When the eagle reaches a certain age (I understand it is about
50 years) his feathers began to fall out and his beak becomes hard and it is
impossible for him to eat. All he can do is drink. His
mate flies out and kills food for him and brings it back to the nest and rips it
open for him to eat. Here a decision is made by some of the Eagles, if they
elect to drink the blood, they will never fly above about 1500 feet and they
will eat only things that have been killed by others;
however some Eagles decide to do it different. They leave the nest and go to the
cliff, in this cliff is running water and also honey where bees have built
nests. Scripture..Deuteronomy 32:13 . They break their beaks on the rock and
they fast for 40 days, the time it takes for the beaks
to grow back. They stand under the water and let the water wash the old
feathers and dirt away. You can see the scars of the Condor on them. They stand
under the water and it washes them clean. Somewhere in this time frame, under one of their wings a little pouch
begins to form.
This pouch produces an oil which they take with their beaks and begin to
(anoint) themselves with it. After the 40 days have passed, the Eagle comes out
from the cliff where he has been kept, his beak has grown back, his feathers
are back and they are brand new (a new creature,
if you will). He climbs to the top of the cliff and stands on the rock and
then.....
He turns his head into the sun and stretches his wings to the full span, as the
wind begins to blow he lifts himself up, up and begins to fly toward the Sun.
At this point the Eagle can fly closer to the Sun than he ever has before, he
can see better than he has ever seen before for you see he is a new creature.
"The Butterfly"
A man found a
cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the
butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force its body through that
little hole.
Then it seemed to stop making any progress. It appeared as if it had
gotten as far as it could, and it could go no further.
So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped
off the remaining bit of the cocoon.
The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small,
shriveled wings.
The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any
moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which
would contract in time.
Neither happened! In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life
crawling around with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It never was able to
fly.
What the man, in his kindness and haste, did not understand was that the
restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through
the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly
into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom
from the cocoon.
Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. If God
allowed us to go through our lives without any obstacles, it would cripple us.
We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly!
I asked for Strength.........
And God gave me Difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for Wisdom.........
And God gave me Problems to solve.
I asked for Prosperity.........
And God gave me Brain and Brawn to work.
I asked for Courage.........
And God gave me Danger to overcome.
I asked for Love.........
And God gave me Troubled people to help.
I asked for Favors.........
And God gave me Opportunities.
I received nothing I wanted ...
I received everything I needed!
A young man was getting ready to graduate
from college. For many
months he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom;
and knowing his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.
As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his
father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation,his father called him into his private study. His father told him how
proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him.
He handed his son a beautiful wrapped gift box.
Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the
young man opened the box and found
a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold.
Angrily, he raised his voice to his father and said, "With all your money,
you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.
Many years passed, and the young man was very successful in business.
He had a beautiful home and wonderful family; but one day realized his
father was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not
seen him since that graduation day.
Before he could make arrangements, he
received a telegram telling him
his father had passed away, and willed all of his possessions to his son.
He needed to come home immediately and take care of things.
When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his
heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and spied
the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago.
With tears, he opened the Bible and began
to turn the pages. His father
had carefully underlined a verse, Matt 7:11 "And if ye, being evil, know
how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Heavenly
Father which is in heaven, give to those who ask Him?"
As he read those words, a car key dropped
from the back of the Bible.
It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports
car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the
words... PAID IN FULL.
How many times do we miss God's blessings because they are not packaged as we
expected?
The Golden Crane
As a teacher of origami (the ancient Japanese art of paper folding) at
the LaFarge Lifelong Learning Institute in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Art
Beaudry was asked to represent the school at an exhibit at a large
mall in Milwaukee.
He decided to take along a couple hundred folded paper cranes to pass
out to people who stopped at his booth.
Before that day, however, something strange happened - a voice told
him to find a piece of gold foil paper and make a gold origami crane.
The strange voice was so insistent that Art actually found himself
rummaging through his collection of origami papers at home until he
found one flat, shiny piece of gold foil.
"Why am I doing this?" he asked himself. Art had never worked with
the shiny gold paper; it didn't fold as easily or neatly as the crisp
multicolored papers. But that little voice kept nudging. Art
harrumphed and tried to ignore the voice. "Why gold foil anyway?
Paper is much easier to work with," he grumbled.
The voice continued. "Do it! And you must give it away tomorrow to a
special person."
By now Art was getting a little cranky. "What special person?" he
asked the voice."You'll know which one," the voice said.
That evening Art very carefully folded and shaped the unforgiving gold
foil until it became as graceful and delicate as a real crane about to
take flight. He packed the exquisite bird in the box along with about
200 colorful paper cranes he'd made over the previous few weeks.
The next day at the mall, dozens upon dozens of people stopped by
Art's booth to ask questions about origami. He demonstrated the art.
He folded, unfolded and refolded. He explained the intricate details,
the need for sharp creases.
Then there was a woman standing in front of Art. The special person.
Art had never seen her before, and she hadn't said a word as she
watched him carefully fold a bright pink piece of paper into a crane
with pointed, graceful wings.
Art glanced up at her face, and before he knew what he was doing, his
hands were down in the big box that contained the supply of paper
cranes. There it was, the delicate gold-foil bird he'd labored over
the night before. He retrieved it and carefully placed it in the
woman's hand.
"I don't know why, but there's a very loud voice inside me telling me
I'm supposed to give you this golden crane. The crane is the ancient
symbol of peace," Art said simply.
The woman didn't say a word as she slowly cupped her small hand around
the fragile bird as if it were alive. When Art looked up at her face,
he saw tears filling her eyes, ready to spill out.
Finally, the woman took a deep breath and said, "My husband died three
weeks ago. This is the first time I've been out. Today...." She
wiped her eyes with her free hand, still gently cradling the golden
crane with the other.
She spoke very quietly. "Today is our golden wedding anniversary."
Then this stranger said in a clear voice, "Thank you for this
beautiful gift. Now I know that my husband is at peace. Don't you
see? That voice you heard, it's the voice of God and this beautiful
crane is a gift from Him. It's the most wonderful 50th wedding
anniversary present I could have received. Thank you for listening to
your heart."
And that's how Art learned to listen very carefully when a little
voice within him tells him to do something he may not understand at
the time.
THE GRANDFATHER'S
TABLE
A frail old man went to live with his son,
daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his
eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the
table, but the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating
difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass,
milk spilled on the tablecloth.
The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do
something about Grandfather," said the son. "I've had enough of his spilled
milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor." Therefore, the husband and wife set
a small table in the corner. There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the
family enjoyed dinner. Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was
served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction,
sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone. Still, the only words the
couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled
food.
The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the
father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child
sweetly, "What are you making?"
Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and
Mama to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back
to work.
The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears
started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both
knew what must be done.
That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the
family table. For the remainder of his days, he ate every meal with the family.
And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a
fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.
Children are remarkably perceptive. Their eyes ever observe, their ears ever
listen, and their minds ever process the messages they absorb. If they see us
patiently, provide a happy home atmosphere for family members, they will imitate
that attitude for the rest of their lives. The wise parent realizes that every
day the building blocks are being laid for the child's future. Let us be wise
builders and role models.
THE NEW TEN COMMANDMENTS
1. Thou shall not worry, for worry is the most unproductive of all human
activities.
2. Thou shall not be fearful, for most of the things we fear never come to pass.
3. Thou shall not cross bridges before you come to them, for no one yet has
succeeded in accomplishing this.
4. Thou shall face each problem as it comes. You can only handle one at a time
anyway.
5. Thou shall not take problems to bed with you, for they make very poor
bedfellows.
6. Thou shall not borrow other people's problems. They can better care for them
than you can.
7. Thou shall not try to relive yesterday for good or ill, it is forever gone.
Concentrate on
what is happening in your life and be happy now!
8. Thou shall be a good listener, for only when you listen do you hear different
ideas from your own. It is hard to learn something new when you are talking, and
some people do know more than you do.
9. Thou shall not become "bogged down" by frustration, for 90% of it is rooted
in self-pity and will only interfere with positive action.
10. Thou shall count thy blessings, never overlooking the small ones, for a lot
of small blessings add up to a big one.
Moving Mountains
A small
congregation in the foothills of the Great Smokies built a new sanctuary on a
piece of land willed to them by a church member. Ten days before the new church
was to open, the local building inspector informed the pastor that the parking
lot was inadequate for the size of the
building. Until the church doubled the size of the parking lot, they would not
be able to use the new sanctuary. Unfortunately, the church with its undersized
lot had used every inch of their land except
for the mountain against which it had been built. In order to build more parking
spaces, they would have to literally move the mountain out of the back yard.
Undaunted, the pastor announced the next Sunday morning that he would meet that
evening with all members who had "mountain moving faith." They would hold a
prayer session asking God to remove the mountain from the back yard and to
somehow provide enough money to have it
paved and painted before the scheduled opening dedication service the following
week.
At the appointed time, 24 of the congregation's 300 members assembled for
prayer. They prayed for nearly three hours. At ten o'clock the pastor said the
final "Amen".
"We'll open next Sunday as scheduled," he assured everyone. "God has never let
us down before, and I believe He will be faithful this time too."
The next morning as he was working in his study there came a loud knock at his
door. When he called "come in", a rough looking construction foreman appeared,
removing his hard hat as he entered. "Excuse me, Reverend. I'm from the Daniel
Boone Construction Company over in the next county. We're building a huge
shopping mall. We need some fill dirt. Would you be willing to sell us a chunk
of that mountain behind the church?
We'll pay you for the dirt we remove and pave all the exposed area free of
charge, if we can have it right away. We can't do anything else until we get the
dirt in and allow it to settle properly."
The little church was dedicated the next Sunday as originally planned and there
were far more members with "mountain moving faith" on opening Sunday than there
had been the previous week! Would you have shown up for that prayer meeting?
Some people say faith comes from miracles. But others know: MIRACLES COME FROM
FAITH!
"I tell you the truth, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say
to this mountain,
`Move from here to there' and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you."
[Matthew 17:20]
NEW
PRINTS IN THE SAND
One night, I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there were seen,
The footprints of my precious Lord;
But mine were not along the shore.
But then some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?
Those prints are large and round and neat;
But, Lord, they are too big for feet."
"My child," He said, in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused, and made Me wait.
You disobeyed - you would not grow,
The walk of faith, you would not know.
So I got tired; I got fed up,
And there I dropped you on your butt!"
"Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt-prints in the sand."
Rescue at Sea
Years ago, in a small fishing village in Holland, a young man taught the world
about the rewards of unselfish service. Because the entire village revolved
around the fishing industry, a volunteer rescue team was needed in cases of
emergency. One night the winds raged, the clouds burst and a gale force storm
capsized a fishing boat at sea. Stranded and in trouble, the crew sent out the
S.O.S. The captain of the rescue rowboat team sounded the alarm and the
villagers assembled in the town square overlooking the bay. While the team
launched their rowboat and fought their way through the wild waves, the
villagers waited restlessly on the beach, holding lanterns to light the way
back.
An hour later, the rescue boat reappeared through the fog, the cheering
villagers ran to greet them. Falling exhausted on the sand, the volunteers
reported that the rescue boat could not hold any more passengers and they had to
leave one man behind. Even one more passenger would have surely capsized the
rescue boat and all would have been lost.
Frantically, the captain called for another volunteer team to go after the lone
survivor. Sixteen-year-old Hans stepped forward. His mother grabbed his arm,
pleading, "Please don t go. Your father died in a shipwreck 10 years ago and
your older brother, Paul, has been lost at sea for three weeks. Hans, you are
all I have left."
Hans replied, "Mother, I have to go. What if everyone said, I can’t go, let
someone else do it? Mother, this time I have to do my duty. When the call for
service comes, we all need to take our turn and do our part." Hans kissed
his mother, joined the team and disappeared into the night.
Another hour passed, which seemed to Hans mother like an eternity. Finally, the
rescue boat darted through the fog with Hans standing up in the bow. Cupping his
hands, the captain called, "Did you find the lost man?" Barely able to
contain himself, Hans excitedly yelled back, "Yes, we found him. Tell my
mother it’s my older brother, Paul!"
By Dan Clark
One of the biggest
mathematical miracles in the world centers around
Moses and the people of Israel. Moses and the people of Israel were in the
desert, but what was he going to do with them? They had to be fed, and
feeding
3 or 3 1/2 million people would require a lot of food.
According to the Quartermaster General of the Army, it is reported that
Moses would have to have 1500 tons of food each day. Did you know that to
bring that amount of food each day, two freight trains, each a mile long,
would be required?
Besides, you must remember, they were out in the desert, and they would
have to have firewood to cook the food. This would take 4000 tons of wood and a few more freight trains, each a mile long, for one day. And just to
think, they were forty years in transit.
Oh, yes, they would have to have water. If they only had enough to drink
and wash a few dishes, it would take 11,000,000 gallons each day, and a
freight train with tank cars 11.8 miles long, just to bring water. They
had no lakes, and only a few wells. How were they to get water?
And then another thing . . . ! They had to get across the Red Sea in one
night. Now if they went on a narrow path, double file, the line would be
800 miles long and would require 35 days and nights to get through. So,
there had to be space in the Red Sea 3 miles wide so they could walk 5000
abreast to get over in one night.
But, then, another problem. .. Every time they camped at the end of the
day, a campground 2/3's the size of Rhode Island, or a total of 750 square
miles, was needed. That comprises an area 25 miles wide and 30 miles long.
Think of it! This space just for nightly camping.
Do you think Moses figured all this out before he left? I think not. You
see, Moses believed in God, and that God was going to take care of these
things for him.
Let us take courage, we have the same God! We think our problems are so
big. Remember what God can do! Just team up with God, and your problems
will be in His care. Let him run your life, and as the old song says: "He
will take care of you."......
FOR ALL OF US IN A
HURRY
As the flashing lights blinked in his rear view mirror, Jack took a long look at
his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many
months. How could a guy get caught so often?
When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but
only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe
some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping
out of his car, the big pad in hand.
Bob? Bob From Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse
than the coming ticket. A Christian cop catching a guy from his own church. A
guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at
the office. Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday,
a man he'd never seen in uniform.
"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."
"Hello, Jack." No smile.
"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a
bit-just this once."
Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement."Diane said something about roast beef
and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"
"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct."
Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.
"What'd you clock me at?"
"Seventy-one. Would you sit back in your car, please?"
"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was
barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.
"Please, Jack, in the car."
Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut,
he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes
ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's
license?
Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever
sat near this cop again.
A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in
hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to
pass him the slip.
"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.
Bob returned to his car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror.
Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost? Wait a
minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to
read:
Dear Jack,
Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car.
You guessed it---a speeding driver. A fine and
three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three
of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until heaven before I
can ever hug her again.
A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I
had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be
careful. My son is all I have left.
Bob
Jack twisted around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road.
Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he, too, pulled away
and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and
kids when he arrived.
An Amazing Story
A young man who had been raised as an atheist was training to be an Olympic
diver. The only religious influence in his life come from his outspoken
Christian friend. The young diver never really paid much attention to his
friend's sermons, but he heard them often…
One night the diver went to the indoor pool at the college he attended. The
lights were all off, but as the pool had big skylights and the moon was bright,
there was plenty of light to practice by.
The young man climbed up to the highest diving board and as he turned his back
to the pool on the edge of the board and extended his arms out, he saw his
shadow on the wall.
And at that
moment, his heart was touched. For the shadow of his body was in the shape of a
cross.
Instead of diving, he knelt down and asked God to come into his life. As the
young man stood, a maintenance man walked in and turned the lights on…The pool
had been drained for repairs.
Angels, Once in a While
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
dollars 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 homemade
dress. I 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 another 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
owner of 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
I 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 the Big Wheel.
These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper 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 I hurried to the car. I
was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the
presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a
small cedar tree
by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I couldn't see
much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car-or was that just a
trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to
tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows.
Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full-full to the top
with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door,
scrambled 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 were 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.
Despise Not Small Beginnings
A sobbing little girl
stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it 'was
too crowded'. "I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he
walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason
and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the
Sunday school class. The child was so touched that she went to bed that night
thinking of the children who have no
place to worship Jesus.
Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings
and the parents called for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their
daughter, to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being
moved, a worn and crumpled purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged
from some trash dump. Inside was found 57
cents and a note scribbled in childish handwriting which read, "This is to help
build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday school." For
two years she had saved for this offering of love. When the pastor tearfully
read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the
cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love
and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for
the larger building. But the story does not end there!
A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a realtor who
offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church
could not pay so much, he offered it for a 57-cent payment. Church members made
large donations. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little
girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00 - a
huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century). Her unselfish love had
paid large dividends.
When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300, and Temple University, where hundreds of students are trained. Have a look; too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday school building which houses hundreds of Sunday scholars, so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside at Sunday school time.
In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face
of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable
history.
Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russel H. Conwell, author
of the book, "Acres of Diamonds." - a true story.
Does God still speak to us?
A young man had been to
Wednesday night Bible Study. The Pastor had shared about listening to God and
obeying the Lord's voice. The young man couldn't help but wonder, "Does God
still speak to people?"
After service he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they
discussed the message. Several different ones talked about how God had led them
in different ways. It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving
home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, "God. If you still speak to
people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey."
As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought, to
stop and buy a gallon of milk. He shook his head and said out loud, "God is that
you?" He didn't get a reply and started on toward home. But again, he had the
thought to buy a gallon of milk. The young man thought about Samuel and how he
didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli. "Okay,
God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk." It didn't seem like too hard a
test of obedience. He could always use the milk.
He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home. As he
passed Seventh Street, he again felt the urge, "Turn down that street." "This
is crazy," he thought and drove on past the intersection. Again, he felt that
he should turn down Seventh Street. At the next intersection, he turned back and
headed down Seventh. Half jokingly, he said out loud, "Okay, God, I will."
He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled
over to the curb and looked around. He was in semi-commercial area of town. It
wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either. The businesses
were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in
bed.
Again, he sensed something, "Go and give the milk to the people in the house
across the street." The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it
looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started
to open the door and then sat back in the car seat. "Lord, this is insane.
Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I
will look stupid." Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk. Finally,
he opened the door, "Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will
give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to
be obedient. I guess that will count for something but if they don't answer
right away, I am out of here."
He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise
inside. A man's voice yelled out, "Who is it? What do you want?" Then the door
opened before the young man could get away. The man was standing there in his
jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he just got out of bed. He had a strange look
on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his
doorstep. "What is it?" The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, "Here, I
brought this to you."
The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway speaking loudly in Spanish.
Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The
man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears
streaming down his face. The man began speaking and half crying, "We were just
praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't
have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to
get some milk." His wife in the kitchen yelled out, "I ask him to send an Angel
with some. Are you an Angel?"
The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him
and put it in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car and the
tears were streaming down his face. He knew that God still answers prayers.
There was a story many years ago of an
elementary teacher.
Her name was Mrs. Thompson. And as she stood in front of her 5th grade class on
the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers,
she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. But that
was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a
little boy named Teddy Stoddard.
Mrs.Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he didn't play
well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly
needed a bath. And Teddy could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs.
Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen,
making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers. At the
school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past
records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file,
she was in for a surprise.
Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh.
He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around."
His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well-liked by
his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and
life at home must be a struggle."
His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been very hard on him. He
tries to do his best but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life
will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken. "
Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much
interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and sometimes sleeps in class."
By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She
felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in
beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily
wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson
took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children
started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones
missing and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume.
But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the
bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist.
Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs.
Thompson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to."
After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she
quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach
children. Mrs.Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with
him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she
encouraged him, the faster he responded.
By the end of the year,
Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie
that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her
"teacher's pets."
A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she
was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he
had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher
he ever had in his whole life.
Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been
tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon
graduate from college with the
highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and
favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life.
Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained
that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The
letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had.
But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed,
Theodore F. Stoddard, M.D.
The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring.
Teddy said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his
father had died a couple
of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit in the
place at the wedding that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom. Of
course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what?
She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made
sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on
their last Christmas together. They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard
whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear,
"Thank you, Mrs. Thompson,
for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing
me that I could make a difference."
Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back and said, "Teddy, you
have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a
difference. I didn't know how
to teach until I
met you"
Having her hair done at a West Hempstead, NY, beauty parlor, a Woman told a
cautionary tale about racial prejudice. The story deserves wider audience.
On a recent weekend in Atlantic City, the woman related, she won a bucketful
of quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner with
her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she would stash the quarters in
her room. I'll be right back and we'll go to eat," she told her husband and she
carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator. As she was about to walk into the
elevator she noticed two men already aboard. Both were black. One of them was
big... Very big... An intimidating figure.
The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two are going to rob me. Her next thought was: Don't be a bigot, they look like perfectly nice gentlemen, even if one of them is awfully black. But racial stereotypes are powerful, and fear immobilized her. She stood and stared at the two men. She felt anxious, flustered, ashamed. She hoped they didn't read her mind but knew they surely did; her hesitation about joining them on the elevator was all too obvious. Her face burned. She couldn't just stand there, so with a mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and followed with the other foot and was on the elevator.
Avoiding eye contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they closed. A second passed, and then another second, and then another. The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her. My God, she thought, I'm trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted.
Perspiration poured from every pore. Then one of the men said, "Hit the floor." Instinct told her: Do what they tell you. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the elevator carpet. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and spare me, she prayed. More seconds passed.
She heard one of the men say politely, "Ma'am, if you'll just tell us what floor you're going to, we'll push the button." The one who said it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily to hold in a belly laugh.
She
lifted her head and looked up at the two men.
They reached down to help her up. Confused, she struggled to her feet. "When I
told my man here to hit the floor," one of the men, the average sized one, told
her, "I meant that he should hit the elevator button for our floor. I didn't
mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am. He spoke genially. He bit his lip. It was
obvious he was having a hard time not laughing. She thought: My Gosh, what a
spectacle I've made of myself.
She was too humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words failed her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable gentlemen for behaving as though they were robbing you? She didn't know.
The 3 of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket. When the elevator arrived at her floor they insisted on walking her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them laughing while they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner with her husband.
The
next morning flowers were delivered to her room ~ a dozen roses. Attached to
each rose was a crisp one hundred dollar bill. A card said: "Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years." It
was signed, Eddie Murphy and Bodyguard.
TWAS THE NIGHT
BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.
I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE.
NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND.
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.
WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED?
I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.
SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.
THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.
I COULDN'T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.
THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY.
THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
"SANTA DON'T CRY, THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."
THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN'T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP.
I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.
I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT.
THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, "CARRY ON SANTA, IT'S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."
ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."
This poem was written by a Marine stationed in Okinawa Japan.
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