Bulletin Articles

Rain

(January 29, 2012)

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 windshield 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 rainwater 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.

Author Unknown

Remember Those Who Serve

(January 22, 2012)

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 sunday?" he asked. "50 cents," replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled his 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. "35 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 begin to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickles and five pennies. You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.

Author Unknown

I Am The New Year

(January 15,2012)

I am the new year. I am an unspoiled page in your book of time.

I am your next chance at the art of living. I am your opportunity to practice what you have learned about life during the last twelve months.

All that you sought and didn't find is hidden in me, waiting for you to search it but with more determination.

All the good that you tried for and didn't achieve is mine to grant when you have fewer conflicting desires.

All that you dreamed but didn't dare to do, all that you hoped but did not will, all the faith that you claimed but did not have----these slumber ligtly, waiting to be awakened by the touch of a strong purpose.

I am your spportunity to renew your allegiance to Him who said, "Behold, I make all things new."

Bible Illustrator

A New Year's Prayer

(January 8,2012)

Dear Lord, please give me...

A few friends who understand me and remain my friends;

A work to do which has real value, without which the world would be the poorer;

A mind unfraid to travel, even though the trail be not blazed;

An understanding heart;

A sense of homor;

Time for quite, silent meditation;

A feeling of the presence of God;

The patience to wait for the coming of these things,
with the wisdom to recognize them when they come.

Amen.

Recipe For
A Happy New Year

(January 1, 2012)

Take twelve fine, full-grown months; see that these are thoroughly free from old memories of bitterness, rancor and hate, cleanse them completely from every clinging spite; pick off all specks of pettiness and littleness; in short, see that these months are freed from all the past-----have them fresh and clean as when they first came from the great storehouse of Time.

Cut these months into thirty or thirty-one equal parts. Do not attempt to make up the whole batch at one time
(so many persons spoil the entire lot this way) but prepare one day at a time.

Into each day put equal parts of faith, patience, courage, work (some people omit this ingredient an so spoil the flavor of the rest), hope, fidelity, liberality, kindness, rest (leaving this out is like leaving the oil out of the salad dressing-----don't do it), prayer, meditation, and one well-selected resolution.

Put in about one teaspoon of good spirits, a dash of fun, a pinch of folly, a sprinkling of play, and a heaping cupful of good humor.

Author Unknown

T'was the Night Before
Jesus Came

(December 25, 2011)

T'was the night before Jesus came and all through the house,
Not a creature was praying, not one in the house.
Their Bibles were lain on the shelf without care,
In hopes that Jesus would not come there.
The children were dressing to crawl into bed,
Not once ever kneeling or bowing a head.
And mom in her rocker with baby on her lap,
Was watching the Late Show while I took a nap.
When out of the East there arose such a clatter,
I sprang to my feet to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash!
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But angels proclaiming that Jesus was here.
With a light like the sun sending forth a bright light ray,
I knew in a moment this must be "THE DAY!"
The light of His face made me cover my head,
It was Jesus returning just like He had said.
And though I possessed worldly wisdom and wealth,
I cried when I saw Him in spite of myself.
In the Book of Life which He held in His hand,
Was written the names of every saved man.
He spoke not a word as He searched for my name,
When He said, "It's not here," my head hung in shame.
The people whose names had been written with love,
He gathered to take to His Father above.
With those who were ready, He rose with no sound.
While all the rest were left standing around.
I fell to my knees, but it was too late,
I had waited too long and thus sealed my own fate.
I stood and I cried as they rose out of sight,
Oh, if only I had been ready tonight!
In the words of this poem the meaning is clear,
The coming of Jesus is drawing near.
There's only one life and when comes the last call,
We'll find that the Bible was true after all!!

By Roger
(Bible Correspondent Student)

Christmas Quotes:
Part 3

(December 18, 2011)

Where there is faith, there is love;
Where there is love, there is peace;
Where there is peace, thre is God;
And where there is God; there is no need.
                                           -Leo Tolstoy

~~~~~

The flow of blessings in our life is directly related to our passing blessings along to some else.

                                                                                        -Thomas Kinkaid

~~~~~

The giving of gifts is not something man invented. God started the giving spree when he gave a gift beyond words, the unspeakable gift of His Son.
                                                                                -Robert Flatt

~~~~~

Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in conspiracy of love.

                                                                                                     -Hamiltn Wright Mabie

~~~~~

How many observe
Christ's birthday!
How few , his precepts!
O! 'tis easier to keep
Holidays than
Commandments.
                                                                                -Benjamin Franklin

~~~~~

This is Christmas: not the tinsel, not the giving and receiving, not even the carols, but the humble heart that recives anew the wondrous gift, the Christ.
                                                                              -Frank McKibben

~~~~~

GIVE THE FOLLOWING GIFTS:

To your enemy...forgiveness,
To your opponent...tolerance.
To a friend...your heart.
To a customer... service.
To all men...charity.
To every child... a good example.
To yourself...respect.

-Author Unknown

Christmas Quotes:

Part 2

(December 11, 2011)

JOY

Somehow, not only for Christmas,
but all the year through,
The joy that you give to others,
Is the joy that comes back to you.

~John Greenleaf Whittier

~~~~~

God sent a star ot light the night for
The WAy, The Truth, The Life-- His Son.
He sent the Light of Life to prove His heart
so we would invite His Son into our own.
God has given us all the light we'll ever
need to find peace on earth,
goodwill to men.

~ Pamela F. Dowd

~~~~~

PEACE IS

~gazing at the stars with the knowledge
that you know their Creator.

~closing your eyes in sleep without fear
of tomorrow.

~the stillness in your heart when trouble swirls
around you.

~a quite mind in a raging world.

~unknown

Christmas Quotes:

Part 1

(December 4, 2011)

The Son of God became a man to enable men to become the sons of God.

~C.S. Lewis (Mere Christianity)

~~~~~

What are we to of make of
Jesus Christ?...
The real question is not what
we are to make of Christ,
But what is He to make of us?

~C.S. Lewis

~~~~~

God's gifts
put man's best dreams
to shame.

~Elizabeth Barrett Browning

~~~~~

Best of all, Christmas means a spirit of love,
a time when the love of God and love of our fellow men should prevail over all hatered and
bitterness, a time when our thoughts and deeds and the spirit of our lives
manifest the presence of God.

~George F. McDougall

~~~~~

Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, Love devine;
Love was born at Christmas; Star and angels gave the sign.

~Christina Rossetti

~~~~~

Thanksgiving Quotes:
Part 3

(November 27, 2011)

So while it's true that Thanksgiving only comes but once a year, we should actually celebrate thanks each and every day. It's just a matter of learning to live with a spirit of gratitude.

The Practice of Gratitude

Gratitude is a constant attitude of thanksfulness and appreciation for life as it unfolds. Living in the moment, we are open to the abundance around us and within us. We express appreciation freely. We contemplate the richness of our life. In life's trials, we seek to understand, to accept, to learn. Gratitude is a continual celebration of life.

~~~~~

Happiness cannot be travelled to, owned, earned, worn or consumed. Happiness is the spiritual experience of living every minute with love, grace, and gratitude.

~D. Waitley

~~~~~

Greed grabs, Gratitude receives.

~~~~~

Let our hearts overflow with thanksfulness...

Colossians 2:7

~~~~~

Thanksfulness is the "chief exercise of godliness" in which we ought to engage during the whole of our life. "Gratitude is the heart...of the Christian life."

~~~~~

To be grateful is to recognize the love of God in everything He has given us---and He has given us everything. Every breath we draw is a gife of His love, every moment of existence is a grace, for it brings with it immense graces from Him.

~Thomas Merton, Thoughts on Solitude

~~~~~

Our knowledge of God is perfected by gratitude: we are thankful and rejoice in the experience fo the truth that He is love...

~Thomas Merton, Thoughts on Solitude

Thanksgiving Quotes:
Part 2

(November 20,2011)

He who brings an offering of praise and thanksgiving honors and glorifies Me; and he who orders his way aright [who prepares the way that I may show him], to him I will demonstrate the salvation of God.

Psalm 50:23

Not what we say about our blessings, but how we use them, is the true measure of our thanksgiving.

W.T. Purkiser

--------

I will praise God's name in song and glorify him with thanksgiving.

Psalm 69:30

--------

Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.

Melody Beattie

~~~~~~

Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song.

Psalm 95:2

~~~~~~

On Thanksgiving Day we acknowledge our dependence.

~William Jennings Bryan

~~~~~

Enter his gates with thanksgiving; go into his courts with praise. Give thanks to him and praise his name.

Psalm 100:4

Thanksgiving Quotes:

Part 1

(November 13, 2011)

Thanksgiving Day is a jewel, to set in the hearts of honest men; but be careful that you do not take the day, and leave out the gratitude.

-E. P. Powell

----------

That I may make the voice of thanksgiving heard and may tell of all Your wondrous works.

Psalm 26:7

How wonderful it would be if we could help our children and grandchildren to learn thanksgiving at an early age. Thanksgiving opens the doors. It changes a child's personality. A child is resentful, negative, or thankful. Thankful children want to give, they radiate happiness, they draw people.

-Sir John Templeton

-------

The Lord is my strength and shield. I trust him with all my heart. He helps me, and my heart is filled with joy. I burst out in songs of thanksgiving.

Psalm 28:2

--------

The Pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts. No Americans have been more improverished than these who, nevertheless, set aside a day of thanksgiving.

--H.U. Westermayer

A Full Jar

(November 6, 2011)

One day an expert in time management was speaking to a group of business students and to drive home a point, he used an illustration those students will never forget.

As he stood in front of thegroup of high-powered overachievers he said, "okay, time for a quiz."
Following that , he pulled out a one-gallon, wide mouth mason jar and set it on the table in front of him. He took out about a dozen fist-sized rocks and carefully placed them, one at a time , into the jar. When the jar was filled to the top and no more rocks would fit inside, he asked, "Is the jar full?" Everyone in the class said, "Yes."

Then he said, "Really?"

He reached under the table and pulled out a bucket of gravel. He dumped some of the gravel in and shook the jar causing pieces of gravel to work themselves down into the space between the rocks.

Subsequently, he asked the group once more, "Is the jar full?"

By this time the class was on to him.

"Probably not." One of them answered.

"Good." He replied.

He reached under the table and brought out a bucket of sand. He started dumping the sand into the jar and it went into all of the spaces left between the rocks and the gravel.

Once more he asked the question, "Is the jar full?"

"No!" the class shouted.

Once again he said , "Good."

He grabbed a pitcher of water and began to pour it in until the jar was filled to the brim.

Then he looked at the class and asked, "What is the point of this illustration?"

One eager beaver raised his hand and said, "The point is no matter how full your schedule is; you can always fit more things in it if you try hard enough."

"No, that's not the point." The speaker replied.

"The illustration teaches us that if you don't put the big rocks in first, you'll never get them in at all."

What are the big rocks in your life? Time with your loved ones? Faith, education or your dreams? A worthy cause? Teaching or mentoring others? Remember to put these Big Rocks in first or you'll never get them in at all. Hench when you are rreflecting on this short story, ask yourself this question, "What are the big rocks in my life?" Then, put those in your jar first.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

818 Ministry

(October 30,2011)

The work of Ronald and Caidy Quilaton
in Cebu, Philippines

Lilia's Place Ministry
As of October 2, 2011, Lilia's Place is now a church. We have partnered with Doug and Lisa Simpson (the founders of Lilia's Place organiation) and have aided in a church plant for all of the families that they minister to on a daily basis. On our first Sunday we had about 23 adults and 30 kids. We also realized that our facility is a little too small for the amount of people we have....what a great problem to have! This unique church is mainly made up of new disciples and people who haven't yet made the decision to follow Christ. Because of the spiritul newness fo the church, over the next year Ronald will be sharing the basic stories of the Bible stating in Genesis and making his way through to Revelation. Caidy and Lisa will be going at the same pace as the teach the children. Our hope is that we will be able to create opportunities for the parents and children to talk about these stories together and grow in their relationship with God. Along with the normal Sunday worship time, we also have a Wednesday afternoon bible study. Two CBC students, BenJoseph and Joreil, have been leading the mothers in this bible study for the past year. It is a growing group of people as the fathers are now starting to join. During this time we take care of the kids, playing games, reading books, coloring and watching movies. We have big goals for this church and know that with God's blessings He will make it happen. In the near future we hope to have a new facility to worship at as we are quickly outgrowing the small space we are currently in. We also pray that God will send us more people to love! Lilia's Place is a very unique church; our members are poor families---families that other churches reject and families that have never been respected in Philippine society. Our only hope is that we would show these people God's love asn He has shown us love. Because of the make up of this congregation, Lilia'S Place church is not self-supporting. 818 Ministry and Lilia's Place organization are the only two contributors to this fastly growing new church. Because we are growing at rapid rates, we are unable to keep up with the financial responibilities and will be unable to move to a new location if we don't receive additional funds for this ministry. God is truly active here in Cebu and we wish that one day you all could see and experience His work here.

Acts of Kindness

(October 23, 2011)

This young man was driving home one evening, on a two lane country road. Work in this small mid-western community was almost as slow as his beat-up Pontiac, but he never quit looking. Ever since the factory closed, he'd been unemployed, and with winter coming on, the chill had finally hit home.

It was a lonely road. Not very many people had a reason to be on it, unless they were leaving. Most of his friends had already left. They had families to feed and dreams to fulfill, but he stayed on. After all, this was where he buried his mother and father. He was born here and he knew the country. He could go down this road blind, and tell you what was on either side, and with his headlights not working, this came in handy.

It was starting to get dark and light snow flurries were coming down. He'd better get a move on. You know, he almost didn't see the old lady, stranded on the side of the road. But even in the dim light of day, he could see she needed help. So he pulled in front of her Mercedes and got out. His Pontiac was still sputtering when he approached her.

Even with the smile on his face, she was worried. No one had stopped to help, for the last hour or so. Was he going to hurt her? He didn't look safe. He looked poor and hungry. He could see that she was frightened, standing out there in the cold. He knew how she felt. It was that chill which only fear can put in you. He said," I'm here to help you Ma'am. Why don't you wait in the car where it's warm? By the way, my name is Bryan."

Well, all she had was a flat tire, but for an old lady, that was bad enough. Bryan crawled under the car looking for a place to put the jack, skinning his knuckles a time or two. Soon he was able to change the tire. But he had to get dirty and his hands hurt. As he was tightening up the lug nuts, she rolled down the window and began to tlak to him. She told him that she was from St. Louis and was only just passing through.

She couldn't thank him enough for coming to her aid. Bryan just smiled as he closed the trunk. She asked him how much she owed him. Any amount would have been all right with her. She had already imagined all the awful things that could have happened had he not stopped.

Bryan never thought twice about the money. This was not a job to him. This was helping someone in need, and God knows there were plenty who had given him a hand in the past. He had lived his whole life that way, and it never occurred to him to act any other way. He told her if she really wanted to pay him back, the next time she saw someone who needed help, she could give that person the assistance that they needed, and Bryan added"...and think of me." He waited until she started her car and drove off.

It had been a cold and depressing day, but he felt good as he headed for home, disappearing into the twilight.

A few miles down the road the lady saw a small cafe. She went in to grab a bite to eat, and take the chill off before she made the last leg of her trip home. It was dingy looking restaurant. Outside were two gas pumps. The whole scene was unfamiliar to her. The cash register was like the telephone of an out of work actor---it didn't ring much.

Her waitress came over and brought a clean towel to wipe her wet hair. She had a sweet smile, one that even being on her feet for the whole day couldn't erase.

The lady noticed that the waitress was nearly eight months pregnant, but she never let the strain and aches change her attitude. The old lady wondered how someone who had so little could be so giving to a stranger.

The she remembered Bryan. . .

After the lady finished her meal, and the waitress went to get change for a hundred dollar bill, the lady slipped right out the door. She was gone by the time the waitress came back. She wondered where the lady could be, then she noticed something written on the napkin under which were 4 one-hundred
dollar bills. There were tears in her eyes when she read what the lady wrote. It said: "You don't owe me anything, I have been there too. Somebody once helped me out the way I'm helping you. If you really want to pay me back, here is what you do: Do not let this chain of love end with you."

Well, there were tables to clear , sugar bowls to fill and people to serve, but the waitress made it through another day. That night when she got home from work and climbed into bed, she was thinking about the money and what the lady had written. How could the lady have known how much she and her husband needed it? With the baby due next month, it was going to be hard.

She knew how worried her husband was, and as he lay sleeping next to her, she gave him a soft kiss and whispered soft and low,"Everything's gonna be all right- I love you, Bryan."

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Grandfather's Table

(October 16, 2011)

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."

So the husband and wife set a small table in the cornor. 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, he sometimes 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 Momma to eat your food from 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 words were 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 message they absorb. If they see us patiently provide a happy home atmosphere for the 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.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Church Football

(October 9, 2011)

Quarterback Sneak: Church mambers quitely leave during the invitation.

Halftime: The period between Bible class and worship when many choose to leave while others choose to arrive.

Bench Warmer: Those who do nothing but just sit and act bored.

Backfield in Motion: Making a trip to the back (restroom or water fountain) during the service. They forgot they are supposed to do this before the service begins.

Staying Put in the Pocket: What happens to a lot of money that should be given to the Lord's work.

Two Minute Warning: The point at which you realize the sermon is almost over and you begin to gather your children and belongings.

Sudden Death: What happens to the attention span of the congregation if the preacher goes "overtime."

End Run: Getting out of the church building quick, without speaking to any guest or fellow member.

Flex Defense: The ability to allow absolutely nothing said during the sermon to affect your life in any way.

Halfback Option: The decision of 50% of the congregation not to return for the evening service.

Carl's Garden

(October 2, 2011)

Carl was quite a man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in WWII. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs and drug activity.

When he saw the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for cring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," whit a malevolent little smile. As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.

Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running out to help him. Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet. Carl just passed a hand over his brow and signed, shaking his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?" "I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply. Satisfying himself that Carl really was alright, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before, their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done. Carl watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on watering.

The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him. He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches. As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack. "Don't worry old man. I'm not going to hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scared hand to Carl.

As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl. "What's this?" Carl asked. "It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet." "I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked on you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attened his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular, the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quitely in a distanct conor of the church. The minister spoke of Carl's gaarden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."

The following spring another flyer went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flyer went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flyer. " I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said. The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said,"Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."

The man went to work and , over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful and he tought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for te garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday." " Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That wonderful! What's the baby's name?" "Carl" he replied.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Who Packed Your Parachute Today?

(September 25, 2011)

Charles Plumb, a U.S. Navel Academy graduate, was a jet pilot in Vietnam. After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed by a surface-to-air missle. Plumb ejected and parachuted into enemy hands. He was captured and spent 6 years in a communist Vietnamese prison. He survived the ordeal and now lectures on lessons learned from that experience.

One day, when Plumb and his wife were sitting in a restaurant, a man at another table came up and said, " You're Plumb! You flew jet fighters in Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk. You were shot down!" "How in the world did you know that?" asked Plumb. "I packed your parachute," the man replied.

Plumb gasped in surprise and gratitude. The man pumped his hand and said, "I guess it worked!" Plumb assured him, "It sure did . If your chute hadn't worked, I wouldn't be here today."

Plumb couldn't sleep that night, thinking about that man. Plumb says, "I kept wondering what he might have looked like in a Navy uniform: a white hat, a bib in the back, and bell-bottom trousers. I wonder how many times I might have seen him and not even said 'Good morning, how are you?' or anything because, you see, I was a fighter pilot and he was a sailor." Plumb thought of the many hours the sailor had spent on a long wooden table in the bowels of the ship, carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks of each chute, holding in his hands each time the fate of someone he didn't know.

Now, Plumb asks his audience, "Who's packing your parachute?" Everyone has someone who provides what they need to make it through the day. Plumb also points out that he needed many kinds of parachutes when his plane was shot down over enemy territory--he needed his physical parachute, his mental parachute, his emotional parachute, and his spiritual parachute. He called on all these supports before reaching safety.

Sometimes in the daily challenges that life gives us, we miss what is really important. We may fail to say hello, please, or thank you, congratulate someone on something wonderful that has happened to them, give a compliment, or just do something nice for no reason. As you go through this week, this month, this year, recognize people who pack your parachute.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

A Thousand Marbles

(September 18, 2011)

The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the quite solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first few hours of a Saturday morning are the most enjoyable.

A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the basement shack with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a typical Saturday morning, turned into one of those lessons that life seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it. I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net.

Along the way, I came across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice. You know the kind; he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting business. He was telling whomever he was talking with something about "a thousand marbles." I was intrigued and stopped to listen to what he had to say.

"Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure they pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or seventy hours a week to make ends meet. Too bad you missed your daughter's dance recital." He continued, "Let me tell you something Tom, something that has helped me keep a good perspective on my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of a "thousand marbles."

"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average person lives about sevent-five years. I know, some live more and some live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years. Now then, I multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900, which is the number of Saturdays that the average person has in their lifetime." "No, stick with me, Tom, I'm getting to the important part." "It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in any detail"; he went on, "and by the time I had lived through over twenty-eight hundred Saturdays. I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five, I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy." "So I went to a toy store and bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to round up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside of a large, clear plastic container right here in the sack next to my gear. Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it away." "I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focus more on the really important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this earth run out to help get your priorities straight."

"Now let me tell you one last thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure that if I make it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing we can all use is a little more time." "It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and I hope to meet you again here on the band. 75 year Old Man, this is K9NZQ, clear and going QRT, good morning!"

You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about. I had planned to work on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work on the next club newsletter. Instead, I went up stairs and woke my wife with a kiss. "C'mom honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast." "What brought this on?" she asked witha smile. "Oh, nothing special, it's just been along time since we spent Saturday together with the kids . Hey, can we stop at a toy store while we're out? I need to buy some marbles.....

The Folded Napkin

(September 11, 2011)

       I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react to Stevie. He was short, a little dumpy with the smooth facial features and thick tongued speech of Downs Syndrone.

       I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers because truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the meatloaf platter is good and the pies are homemade. The four-wheel drivers were the ones who concerned me; the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreded "truck stop germ"; the pairs of white shirted business men on expence accounts who think every truck stop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie, so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.

       I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wraped around his stubby little finger, and within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truck stop mascot.

       After that, I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought of him. He was like a 21-year-old in blue jeans abd Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place. Not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table.

       Our only problem was persuading him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus dishes and glasses onto the cart and meticulously wipe the table up with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration.

       He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

       Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in plblic housing two miles from the truck stop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight , and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home. That's why the restraurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work.

       He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down Syndrome often had heart problems at an early age so this wasn't unexpected, and there was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months.

       A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came tha he was out of sergery, in recovery, and doing fine.

       Frannie, hedwaitress, let out a war hoop and did a little dance in the asile when she heard the good news. Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, stared at the sight of the 50-year-old grandmother of four doing a victory shimmy beside table.
Frannie blushed, smoothed her apron and shot Belle Ringer a withering look.

       He grinned. "OK, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be ok."

       I was wondering where he was. I had a new joke to tell him. What was the surgery about?" Frannie quickly told Belle Ringer and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed: "Yeah, I'm glad he is going to be ok" she said. "But I don't know how he and his Mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barly getting by as it is."

       Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables. Since I hadn't had time to round up a busboy to replace Stevie and really didn't want to replace him, the girls were busing their own tables that day until we decided what to do.

       After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand and a funny look on her face.

       "What's up?" I asked.

       " I didn't get that table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting cleared off after they left, and Pony Pete and Tony Tipper were sitting there when I got back to clean it off" she said. "This was folded and tuched under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed "Something for Stevie."

       "Pony Pete asked me what that was all about ," she said, "so I told him about Stevie and his Mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up and gave me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something fro Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds.

       Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply: "truckers."

       That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving , the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement counselor said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him of that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his Mother bring him to work, met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.

       Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting.

       "Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast," I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you and your mother is on me." I led them toward a large conor booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dinning room. Glancing over my sholder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers wmpty and join the procession. We stopped in front of the big table. Its surface was covered with coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting slightly crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins.

       "First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said. I tried to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell on to the table.

       Stevie stared at the money, then at all the napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it. I turned to his mother.

       "There's more than $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. "Happy Thanksgiving."

       Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, as well. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a bug smile on his face, was busy cleaning all the cups and dishes from the table.

       Best worker I ever hired.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

God's Under the Bed

(September 4, 2011)

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 outside his closed door 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 6'2"), 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 probaly 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, returning to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed. The only variation in the entire scheme are laundry days, when he hovers excitely 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 on 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.

I don't think Kevin knows anything exists outside 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 or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. He recognizes no differences in people, treating each person as an equal and a friend. 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 monents 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 fears, my pride, my circumstances--they all become disabilities when I do not submit to Christ.

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 the Lord. 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 suprised at all.

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

Come As You Are

(August 28, 2011)

He opened His arms and said with a smile, " Son, all of this is yours if you just come unto me. Ask me to clean you up and I will. Ask me to allow you to feast at my table and you will eat. Remember, the table is reserved in your name. All you must do is accept this gift that I offer you."
Astonished, I fell at His feet and said, "Please, Jesus. Please clean up my life. Please change me and sit me at your table and give me new life." Immediately, I heard the words, "It is finished."

I looked down and white robes adorned my body. Something strange and wonderful had happened. I felt new, like a weight had been lifted and I found myself seated at His table. "The 'Special of the Day'
has been served," the Lord said to me. "Salvation is yours."

We sat and talked for a great while and I so enjoyed the time that I spent with Him. He told me, me of all people, that He would like for me to come back as often as I liked for another helping of God's Grace. He made it clear that He wanted me to spend as much time with Him as possible.

As it drew near time for me to go back outside into the "real world," He whispered to me softly, "And lo, I am with you always." And then, He said...."My child, do you see these empty tables?" "Yes, Lord. I see them. What do they mean?" I replied.

"These are reserved tables.....But the individuals whose names are on each place-card have not accepted their invitations yet. Would you be so kind as to hand out these invitations to those who have not joined us as yet?" Jesus asked. "Of course," I said with excitement as I picked up the invitations. " Go ye therefore into all nations." He said as I turned to leave.

I walked into God's Grace dirty and hungry. Stained in sin. My righteousness as filty rags. And Jesus cleaned me up. I walked out a brand new man.....robed in white, His righteousness. And so, I'll keep my promise to my Lord. I'll go. I'll spread the Word.

I'll share the Gospel....I'll hand out the invitations. And I'll start with you. Have you been to God's Grace? There's a table reserved in your name, and here's your invitation....."Come as you are. No jacket required."

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

The Quilt

(August 21, 2011)

As I faced my Maker at last judgement, I knelt before the Lord along with the other souls. Before each of us laid our lives, like the squares of a quilt. An angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life.

But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life. I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.

I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and all the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened. My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty like binding air.

Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of the truth...
The others rose, each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been.

My angel looked at me, and nodded for me to rise. My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness and death, an false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it.

I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I had spent many lonely nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully: each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.

And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it had been....I rose and slowly lifted the combined aquares of my life to the light. An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with eyes opened wide.

Then I looked upon the tapestry before me.

Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, The Face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with love and warmth in his eyes. He said: "Every time you gave over your life to me, it became my life, my hardships, and my struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let me shine thru, until there was more of me than there was of you."

AUTHOR UNKNOWN

40 Rules for Living

(August 14, 2011)

1. Give people more than they expect and do it cheerfully.

2. Memorize your favorite poem.

3. Don't believe all you hear, spend all you have or sleep all you want.

4. When you say "I love you," mean it.

5. When you say "I'm sorry," look the person in the eye.

6. Never laugh at anyone's dreams.

7.Love deeply and passionately. You might get hurt but it's the only way to live life completely.

8. Don't judge people by their relatives.

9. Talk slow but think quick.

10. When someone asks you a question you don't want to answer, smile and ask, "Why do you want to
       know?"

11. Remember that great love and great achievements involve great risk.

12. Call your mom.

13. Say "Bless you" when you hear someone sneeze.

14. When you lose, don't lose the lesson.

15. Remember the three R's: Respect for self; Respect for others; Responsibility for all your actions.

16. Don't let a little dispute injure a great friendship.

17. When yo realize you've made a mistake, take immediate steps to correct it.

18. Smile when picking up the phone. The caller will hear it in your voice.

19. Marry someone you love to talk to. As you get older, conversational skills will be as important as
       any other.

20. Spend some time alone.

21. Open your arms to change, but don't let go of your values.

22. Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.

23. Read more books and watch less TV.

24. Live a good, honourable life. Then when you get older and think back, you'll get to enjoy it a
       second time.

25. Trust in God but lock your car.

26. A loving atmosphere in your home is so important. Do all you can to create a tranquil harmonious
       home.

27. In disagreements with loved ones, deal with the current situation. Don't bring up the past.

28. Read between the lines.

29. Share your knowledge. It's a way to achieve immortality.

30. Be gentle with the earth.

31. Pray---there;s immeasurable power in it.

32. Never interrupt when you are being flattered.

33. Mind your own business.

34. Don't trust a lover who doesn't close his /her eyes when you kiss them.

35. Once a year, go someplace you've never been before.

36. If you make a lot of money, put it to use helping others while you are living. That is wealth's greatest
       satisfaction.

37. Learn the rules then break some.

38. Remember that the best relstionship is one where your love for each other is greater than your
       need for each other.

39. Judge your success by what you had to give up in order to get it.

40. Remember that your charactor is your destiny.

Author Unknown

Childre Learn
What They Live

(August 7, 2011)

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.

If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.

If children live with ridicule, they learn to be shy.

If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.

If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.

If children live with tolerance, they learn to be patient.

If children live with praise, they learn to appreciate.

If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.

If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.

If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.

If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and others.

If children live with friendiness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

(copyright 1972/1975 by Dorothy Law Nolte.
This is the author-approved short version.)

Twelve Guideposts for Living

(July 31, 2011)

I will do morre than belong-----I will participate.

I will do more than care-----I will help.

I will do more than believe-----I will practice.

I will do more than forgive-----I will forget.

I will do more than dream-----I will work.

I will do more than teach-----I will inspire.

I will do more than earn-----I will enrich.

I will do more than give-----I will serve.

I will do more than live-----I will grow.

I will do more than be friendly-----I will be a friend.

I will do more than be fair-----I will be kind.

Author Unknown

Joseph the Carpenter

(July 24, 2011)

Matthew 16:5-12 AMP

⁵When the disciples rreached the other side of the sea, they found that they had forgotten to bring any bread.

⁶Jesus said to them, Be careful and on your guard against the leaven (ferment) of the Pharisees and Sadducees.

⁷And they rreasoned among themselves about it, saying, It is because we did not bring any bread.

⁸But Jesus, aware of this, asked, Why are you discussing among yourselves the fact that you have no bread? O you [men, how little trust you have in Me, how] little faith!

⁹Do you not yet discern (preceive and understand)? Do you not remember the five loaves of the five thousand, and how many [small hand] baskets you gathered?

¹⁰Nor the seven loavesfor the four thousand, and how many [large provision] baskets you took up?

¹¹How is it that you fail to understand that I was not talking to you about bread? But beware of the leaven (ferment) of the Pharisees and Sadducees.

¹²Then they discerned that He did not tell them to beware of the leaven of the bread, but the teaching of the Pharisees and Sadducees.

Joseph the Carpenter

(July 17, 2011)

Matthew 1:18-25 KJV

Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost. Then Joseph her husband, being a just man, and not willing to make her a public example, was minded to put her away privily.

But while he thought on these things, behold, the angle of the Lord appeared unto him in a dream, saying, Joseph, thou son of David, fear not to take unto thee Mary thy wife: for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Ghost. And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS: for he shall save his poeple from their sins.

Now all this was done, that it might be fulfilled which was spoken of the Lord by the prophet, saying, Behold, a virgin shall be with child, and shall bring forth a son, and they shall call his name Emmanuel, which being interpreted is, God with us.

Then Joseph being raised from sleep did as the angle of the Lord had bidden him, took unto him his wife: And knew her not till she had brought forth her firstborn son: and he called his name JESUS.

Stop Complaining

(July 10, 2011)

From the King James Version(KJV)
Philippians 2:14-16

¹⁴Do all things without murmurings and disputings:
¹⁵That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine as lights in the world;
¹⁶holding forth the word of life; that I may rejoice in the day of Christ, that I have not run in vain, neither laboured in vain.

1 Corinthians 10:5-6, 10 KJV

⁵But with many of them God was not well pleased: for they were overthrown in the wilderness.
⁶Now these things were our examples....
¹⁰Neither murmur ye, as some of them also murmured, and were destroyed of the destroyer.

Now from the New International Version of the Bible (NIV)

Philippians 2:15-15 NIV

¹⁴Do everything without complaining or arguing,
¹⁵so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe.

1 Corinthians 10:5-6, 10-11 NIV

⁵God was not pleased with most of them; their bodies were scattered over the desert.
⁶Now these things occured as examples to keep us from setting our hearts on evil things as they did.
¹⁰And do not grumble, as some of them did-- and were killed by the destroying anglel.
¹¹These things happened to them as examples and were written down as warnings for us, on whom the fulfillment of the ages has come.

Faith Without Action Is Empty

(July 3, 2011)

James 2:14-22,24 NIV
¹⁴What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save

him? ¹⁵Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. ¹⁶If one of you says to him,
"Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?¹⁷ In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.¹⁸But someone will say,"You have faith; I have deeds." Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.
¹⁹You believe that there is one God. Good! Eventhe demons believe that ---and shudder.
²⁰You foolish man, do you want evedence that faith without deeds is useless? ²¹Was not our ancestor Abraham considered rightous for what he did when he offered his son Isaac on the altar? ²²You see that his faith and his actions were working together, and his faith was made complete by what he did.
²⁴You see that a person is justified by what he does and not by faith alone.

The Test

(June 26,2011)

A successful business man was growing old and knew it was time to choose a successor to take over the business.

Instead of choosing one of his Directors or his children, he decided to do something different. He called all the young executives in his company together.

He said,"It is time for me to step down and choose the next CEO. I have decided to choose one of you." The young executives were Shocked, but the boss continued. "I am going to give each one of you a SEED today- one very special SEED. I want you to plant the seed, water it, and come back here one year from today with what you have grown from the seed I have given you. I will then judge the plants that you bring, and the one I choose will be the next CEO.

One man, named Jim, was there that day and he, like the others, received a seed. He went home and excitedly, told his wife the story. She helped him get a pot, soil and compost and he planted the seed. Everyday, he would water it and watch to see if it had grown. After about three weeks, some of the other executives began to talk about their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow.

Jim kept checking his seed, but nothing ever grew.

Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went by, still nothing.

By now, others were talking about their plants, but Jim didn't have a plant and he felt like a failure.

Six months went by--still nothing in Jim's pot. He just knew he had killed his seed. Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing. Jim didn't say anything to his colleagues, however, he just kept watering and fertilizing the soil- He so wanted the seed to grow.

A year finally went by and all the young executives of the company brought their plants to the CEO for inspection.

Jim told wife that he wasn't going to take an empty pot. But she asked him to be honest about what had happened. Jim felt sick to his stomach, it was going to be the most embarrassing moment of his life, but he knew that his wife was right. He took his empty pot to the board room. When Jim arrived, he was amazed at the variety of plants grown by the other executives. They were beautiful--in all shapes and sizes. Jim put his empty pot on the floor and many of his colleagues laughed, a few felt sorry for him!

When the CEO arrived, he surveyed the room and greeted his young executives.

Jim just tried to hide in the back. "My, what great plants, trees and flowers you have grown," said the CEO. "Today one of you will be appointed the next CEO!"

All of a sudden, the CEO spotted Jim at the back of the room with his empty pot. He ordered the Financial Director to bring him to the front. Jim was terrified. He thought, "The CEO knows I'm a failure! Maybe he will have me fired!"

When Jim got to the front, the CEO asked him what happened to his seed- Jim told him the story.

The CEO asked everyone to sit down except Jim. He looked at Jim, and then announced to the young executives, "Behold your next Chief Executive Officer!His name is Jim!" Jim couldn't believe it. Jim couldn't even grow his seed.

"How could he be the new CEO?" the others said.

Then the CEO said, "One year ago today , I gave everyone in this room a seed. I told you to take the seed, plant it, water it , and bring it back to me today. But I gave you all boiled seeds; they were dead- it was not possible for them to grow.

All of you, execpt Jim, have brought me trees and plants and flowers. When you found that the seed would not grow, you substituted another seed for the one I gave you. Jim was the only one with the courage and honesty to bring me a pot with my seed in it. Therefore, he is the one who will be the new Chief Executive Officer."

* If you plant honesty, you will reap trust
* If you plant goodness, you will reap friends
* If you plant humility, you will reap greatness
* If you plantperseverance, you will reap contentment
* If you plantconsideration, you will rreap perspective
* If you plant hard work, you will reap success
* If you plant forgiveness, you will rap reconciliation

So, be careful what you plant now; it will determine what you will reap later.

Author Unknown

Deciding What is Important

(June 19, 2011)

                      The news media shifts their attention based on the urgency of reporting particular breaking news events. A story suddenly emerges and is broadcast as the top news of the day or printed as the major front-page headline. Then, within a matter of days or even hours, another event occurs, the headlines change, and today's top news story is tomorrow's back-page news, if reported at all.

                       Depending on your situation in life, the determination of what is exigent (urgent) by an editorial committee choosing the top news story of latest headline may or may not capture your attention. Good news breaks every day as well, but seldom makes the headlines. Headkines will change and producers of news programs will decide to "interrupt this broadcast" with a breaking story. The normalcy and mundane of life also remain. At other times, heroic efforts will be made by many to save lives, to rescue the hurting, to comfort the despairing, and to lend a helping hand or a cup of cold water.

                      Individually, every day has an urgency and importance of its own. Purchasing that first home, deciding that salary is not the most crucial issue in determining whether or not to accept a job offer, or listening to a friend's heart are all significant events that most likely will not be the lead report on this evening's news or links near the top of an Internet's search enging's results of the most important events of the day.

                     Headlines and the top news stories have some inherent relativity to them. Sometimes the exigent truly is important, while at other times the urgent may need to be ignored. Each and every day, you will decide what is important to you personally and in the grand scheme of life. It is a challenge to choose wisely, bat a challenge that is worth the effort. Read Joshua 24:15.

                     Thanks for your generous gifts totaling more than $3,200 to Disaster Relief.

Gary Dodd

Jesus Sent Out the Twelve
(June 12, 2011)

Matthew 10: 1-16

¹He called his twelve disciples to him and gave them authority to drive out evil spirits and to heal every disease and sickness.

²These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon (who is called Peter) and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John, ³Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; ⁴Simon the Zealot and Judas Iscariot, who betrayed him.

⁵These twelve Jesus sent out with the following instructions:"Do not go amoung the Gentiles or enter any town of the Samaritans. ⁶Go rather to the lostsheep of Israel. ⁷As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.' ⁸Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give. ⁹ Do not take along any gold or silver or copper in your belts; ¹⁰ take no bag for the journey, or extra tunic, or sandles or a staff; for the worker is worth his keep.

¹¹Whatever town or village you enter, search for some worthy person there and stay at his house until you leave. ¹²As you enter the home, give it your greeting.¹³If the home is deserving, let your peace rest on it; if it is not, let your peace return to you.¹⁴If anyone will not welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet when you leave that home or town. ¹⁵I tell you the truth, it will be more bearable for Sodom and Gomorrah on the day of judgment than for that town.¹⁶I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be as shrewd as snakes and as innocent as doves.

Matthew 12: 1-14 KJV

(June 5, 2011)

¹ At that time Jesus went on the sabbath day through the corn; and his disciples were hungred, and began to pluck the ears of corn and to eat.

² But when the Pharisees saw it, they said unto him, Behold, thy disciples do that which is not lawful
do upon the sabbath day.

³But he said unto them, Have ye not read what David did, when he was hungered, and they that were with him,

⁴How he entered into the house of God, and did eat the shewbread, which was not lawful for him to eat, neither for them which were with him, but only for the priests?

⁵Or have ye not read in the law, how that on the sabbath days the priests in the temple profane the sabbath, and are blameless?

⁶But I say unto you, That in this place is one greater than the temple.

⁷But if ye had known what this meanth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice, ye would not have condemned the guiltless.

⁸For the Son of man is Lord even of the sabbath day.

⁹And when he was departed thence, he went into their synagogue:

¹⁰And, behold, there was a man whichhad his hand withered. And they asked him, saying, Is it lawful to heal on the sabbath days? that they might accuse him.

¹¹And he said unto them, What man shall there be among you, that shall have one sheep, and if it fall into a pit on the sabbath day, will he not lay hold on it, and lift it out?

¹²How much then is a man better than a sheep? Wherefore it is lawful to do well on the sabbath days.

¹³Then saith he to the man, Stretch forth thine hand. And he stretched it forth; and it was restored whole, like as the other.

¹⁴Then the Pharisees went out, and held a council against him, how they might destroy him.

HOW TO GET TO HEAVEN

(May 22, 2011)

I was testing the children in my Sunday school class to see if they understood the concept of getting to heaven.

I asked them,"If I sold my house and my car, had a big garage sale and gave all my money to the church, would that get me into heaven?"

"NO!" the children answered.

"If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept everything neat and tidy, would that get me into Heaven?"

Again, the answer was "NO!"

By now I was starting to smile. Hey, this was fun!

"Well, then, If I was kind to animals and gave candy to all the children, and loved my husband, would that get me into Heaven?" I asked them again.

Again, they all answered, "NO!"

I was just bursting with pride for them.

"Well," I continued, "then how can I get into Heaven?"

A five-year-old boy shouted out,

"YOU GOTTA BE DEAD."

Author Unknown

A Child's Song

(May 15, 2011)

When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, a mother returned to her seat and discovered that her child was missing. Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage.

In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star." At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit." "Keep playing."

Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic, "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.

The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit" "Keep playing." May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true Masterpieces.

Author Unknown

A Mother's Love

(May 8, 2011)

A little boy came up to his mother in the kitchen one evening while she was fixing supper, and handed her a piece of paper that he had been writing on. After his Mom dried her hands on an apron, she read it, and this is what it said:

For cutting the grass: $5.00
For cleaning up my room this week: $1.00
For going to the store for you: $.50
Baby-sitting my kid brother while you went shopping: $.25
Taking out the garbage: $1.00
For getting a good report card: $5.00
For cleaning up and raking the yard: $2.00
Total owed: $14.75

Well, his mother looked at him standing there, and the boy could see the momories flashing through her mind. She picked up the pen, turned over the paper he'd written on, and this is what she wrote:

For the nine months I carried you while you were growing inside me:
No Charge

For all the nights that I'vesat up with you, doctored and prayed for you:
No Charge

For all the trying times, and all the tears that you've caused through the years:
No Charge

For all the nights that were filled with dread, and for the worries I knew were ahead:
No charge

For the toys, food, clothes, and even wiping your nose:
No Charge

Son, when you add it up, the cost of my love is:
No Charge.

When the boy finished rreading what his mother had written, there were big tears in his eyes, and he looked straight at his mother and said, "Mom, I sure do love you." and then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote: "PAID IN FULL".

Lessons:
You will never know how much your parents are worth untill you become a parent.
Be a giver not an asker, especially with your parents. There is a lot to give, besides money.

Author Unknown

The Storm

(May 1, 2011)

Years ago, I was enthralled as I listened to a minister who for several years had faithfully served the church. His executive responsibilities had taken him all over the country. As he concluded his message, he told of one of the most frightening yet thought-provoking experiences of his life.

He had been on a long flight from one place to another. The first waring of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten your seat belts. Then, after a while, a calm voice said," We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened."

As he looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive. Later, the voice of the announcer said,"We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us."

And then the storm broke. The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightening lit up the darkening skies, and within monents that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One monent the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air, the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.

The minister confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him. He said,"As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some weree praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm.

Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and every thing within her small world was calm and orderly. Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world. When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm, when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid."
The minister could hardly believe his eyes.

It was not suprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurring to disembark, our minister lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time. Having commented about the storm and behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.

The sweet child replied,"Sir, my Dad is the pilot, and he is taking me home."

There are many kinds of storms that buffet us.

Physical, mental, financial, domestic, and many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrolable movement. We have all known such times, and let us be honst and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the groud than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky.

Author Unknown

My Last Tract

(April 24,2011)

Every Sunday afternoon, after the morning service at their church, the Minister and his eleven year old son would go out into their town and hand out Gospel Tracts. This particular Sunday afternoon, as it came time for the Minister and his son to go to the streets with their tracts, it was very cold outside as well as pouring down rain.

The boy bundled up in his warmest and driest clothes and said- "Ok Dad, I'm ready."

His Minister dad asked- "Ready for what?"

"Dad, it's time we gather our tracts together and go out."

Dad responds- "Son, it's very cold outside and it's pouring down rain."

The boy gives his dad a surprised look, asking- "But, Dad, aren't people still going to Hell, even though it's raining?"

Dad answers- "Son, I am not going out in this weather."

Despondently the boy asks- "Dad, can I go, Please?"

His father hesitated for a moment then said-"Son , you can go. Here are the tracts. Be careful, son."

"Thanks Dad!!!" And with that he was off and out into the rain.

This eleven year ole boy walked the streets of the town going dood to door and handing everybody he met in the street a Gospel Tract. After two hours of walking in the rain he was soaking bone chilled wet and down to his Very Last Tract. He stopped on a corner and looked for someone to hand a react to but the streets were totally deserted. Then he turned towared the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the door bell.

He rang the bell-but nobody answered. He rang it again and again but, still no one answered. He waited but still no answer. Finally this eleven year old trooper turned to leave but something stopped him. Again, he turned to the door and rang the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He waited, something holding him there on the front porch. He rang again, and this time the door slowly opened.

Standing in the dorrway was a very sad looking elderly lady. She softly asked- "What can I do for you son?"

With radiant eyes and a Smile that lit up the world this little boy said- "Ma'am, I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU, and I came to give you my very last Gospe Tract which will tell you all about JESUS and His great LOVE." With that he handed her his last tract, and turned to leave.

She called to him as he departed- "Thank you, son! And God Bless You!

Well, the following Sunday Morning in Church, Minister Dad was in the Pulpit and as the service began he asked-"Does anybody have a testimony or want to say anything?"

Slowly, in the back row of the Church, an elderly lady stood to her feet.

As she beganto speak a look of glorious radiance came from her face as she said- "None of you in this church know me. I've never been here before. You see, before last Sunday I was not a Christian. My husband passed on, some time ago, leaving me totally alone in this world.

Last Sunday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, it was even more so in my heart as I came to the end of the line where I no longer had and hope or will to live. So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic of my home. I fastened the rope securly to a rafter in the roof then stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted, I was about to leap off when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell startled me.

I thought- I'll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go away. I waited and waited, but the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly. I thought to myself again- "who on earth could this be?! Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me." I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the bell rang louder and louder.

When I opened the door and looked I could hardly believe my eyes for there on my front porch was the most radiant and Angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life. His SMILE, Oh, I could never describe it to you!!! And the words that came from his mouth caused my heart, that had long been dead, to LEAP TO LIFE as he exclaimed with cherub like voice-"Mam, I just came tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU." Then he gave me this Gospel Tract that I now hold in my hand. As the little Angel disappeared back out, into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read slowly every word of this Gospel Tract.

Then I went up tomy attic to get my rope and chair. I wouldn't be needing them any more. You see, I am now a Happy Child of the KING, and since the address of your Church was on the back of this Gospel Tract I have come here to personally say THANK YOU TO GOD'S LITTLE ANGLE WHO CAME JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME AND , BY SO DOING, SPARED MY SOULFROM ETERNITY IN HELL.

There were now no dry eyes in the Church. And as Shouts of Praise, Honor to THE KING, resounded off the very rafters of the buliding. Minister Dad descended from the pulpit to the front pew where the little Angel was seated; He took him in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Problably no Church has had a more glorious moment. And probably this universe has never seen a Papa that more filled with love and honor for his son- EXCEPT for one- this FATHER also allowed HIS Son to go out into a Cold and Dark World. HE received HIS SON back with Joy unspeakeable, and as all of Heaven Shouted Praises and Honor to THE KING, Next to The FATER sat HIS BELOVED SON on a Throne far above all Principality and Power.

Author Unknown

Emergency Call

(April 17, 2011)

Emergency Phone Numbers

When in sorrow, call John 14.
When men fail you, call Psalm 27.
If you want to be fruitful, call John15.
When you have sinned, call Psalm 51.
When you worry, call Matthew 6:19-34.
When you are in danger, call Psalm 91.
When God seems far away, call Psalm 139.
When your faith needs stirring, call Hebrews 11.
When you are lonely and fearful, call Psalm 23.
When you grow bitter and critical, call 1 Corinthians 13.
For Paul's secret to happiness, call Colossians 3:12-17
For idea of Christianity, call 1 Corinthians 5:15-19.
When you feel down and out, call Romans 8:31.
When you want pease and rest, call Matthew11: 25-30.
When the world seems bigger than God, call Psalm 90.
When you leave home for labor or travel, call Psalm 121
Your prayers growth narrow and selfish, Pslam 67.
For a great invention/opportunity, call Isaiah 55.
When you want courage for a task, Joshua 1.
How to get along with fellow men, call Romans 12.
When you think of investments/returns, call Mark 10.
If you are depressed, call Psalm 27.
If your pocketbook is empty, call Psalm 37.
If you're losing confidence in people, call 1 Corinthians 13.
If people seem unkind, call John 15.
If discouraged about your work, call Psalm 126.
If you find the world growing small and yourself great, call Psalm19.

NOTE: EMERGENCY NUMBERS may be DIALED DIRECT. No operator assistance is necessary. ALL LINES ARE OPEN TO HEAVEN 24 HOURS A DAY! Feel free to pass this on to others.

100 Points

(April 10, 2011)

A man dies and goes to heaven. Of course, St. Peter meets him at the pearly gates. St. Peter says, "Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it intoheaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in."

"Okay," the man says, "I was married to the same woman for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart."

"That's wonderful," says St. Peter, "That's worth three points!"

"Three points?" he says. "Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service."

"Terrific!" says St. Peter, "that's certainly worth a point."

"One point? Golly. How about this: I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans."

"Fantastic, that's good for two more points," he says.

"TWO POINTS!!" the man cries, "At this rate the only way I get into heaven is by the grace of God!"

"That's right!, Now you have got it!" said St. Peter.

Author Unknown

A Blue Rose

( April 3, 2011)

Having four visiting family members, my wife was very busy, so I offered to go to the store for her to get some needed items, which included light bulbs, paper towels, trash bags, detergent, and Clorox. So off I went.

I scurried around the store, gathered up my goodies, and headed for the checkout counter, only to be blocked in the narrow aisle by a young man who appeared to be about sixteen-years-old. I wasn't in a hurry, so I patiently waited for the boy to realize that I was there. This was when he waved his hands excitedly in the air and declared in a loud voice, "Mommy, I'm over here."

It was obvious now that he was mentally challenged, and alsostartled as he turned and saw me standing so close to him, waiting to squeeze by. His eyes widened and surprise exploded on his face as I said, "Hey Buddy, what's your name?"

"My name is Denny and I'm shopping with my mother," he responded proudly.

"Wow," I said, "that's a cool name; I wish my name was Denny, but my name is Steve."

"Steve, like Stevarino?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered. "How old are you Denny?"

"How old am I now, Mommy?" he asked his mother as she slowly came over from the next asile.

"You're fifteen-years-old,Denny; now be a good boy and let the man pass by."

I acknowledged her and continued to talk to Denny for several more minutes about summer, bicycles, and school. I watched his brown eyes dance with excitement because he was the center of someone's attention. He then abruptly turned and headed toward the toy section.

Denny's mom had a puzzled look on her face and thanked me for taking the time to talk with her son. She told me that most people wouldn't even look at him, much less talk to him. I told her that it was my pleasure and then I said something I have no idea where it came from, other than by the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

I told her that there are plenty of red, yellow, and pink roses in God's Garden; however, "Blue Roses" are very rare and should be appreciated for their beauty and distinctiveness. You see, Denny is a Blue Rose and if someone doesn't stop to smell that rose with their heart and touch that rose with their kindness, then they've missed a blessing from God.

She was silent for a second, then with a tear in her eye she asked, "Who are you?"

Without thinking I said, "Oh, I'm probably just a dandelion, but I sure love living in God's garden."

She reached out, squeezed my hand, and said, "God bless you!" , and then I had tears in my eyes.

May I suggest tht the next time you see a BLUE ROSE, don't turn your head and wlk off. Take the time to smile and say Hello. Why? Becaus, by the grace of GOD, this mother or father could be you. This could be your child, grandchild, niece, or nephew. What a difference a moment can mean to that person or their family.

Live simply, Love generously, Care deeply, Speak kindly, Leave the rest to GOD.
"People might forget what you said, People might forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."

Keepers

(March 27,2011)

I grew up with practical parents. A mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen, before they had a name for it... Afather who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones.

Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barley a wave away.

I can see them now, Dad in trousers, tee shirt and a hat and Mom in a house dress, lawn mower in one hand, and dish-towel in the other. It was the time for fixing things. Acurtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we keep.

It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that refixing, eating, renewing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.

But then my father died, and on that clear winter's night, in the warmth of the hospiltal room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away...never to return. So... while we have it..... it's best we love it.... and care for it.... and fix it when it's broken.......and heal it when it's sick.

This is true... for marriage...... and old cars....... and children with bad report cards...... and dogs with bad hips...... an aging parents...... and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it. Some things we keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special....... and so, we keep them close!

Author Unknown

The Builder
(March 20, 2011)

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see his good worker to and asked if he could build just one more house ans a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship an used inferior materials. It was unfortunate way to end his career.

When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."

What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.

So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and fine that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized, we would have done it differently.

Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity. The plaque on the wall says, "Life is a do-it-yourself project."

Who could say it more clearly? Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past. Your life tomorrow will be the result fo your attitudes and the choices you make today.

Author Unknown

No Better Time
(March 13, 2011)

We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are. After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with. We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage. We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, when we are able to go on a nice vacation, or when we retire.

The truth is there's no better time to be happy than right now. If not now, when? Your life will always be filled with challenges. It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special enough to spend your time with... and remember that time waits for no one.

So, stop waiting
Until your car or home is paid off
Until you get a new car or home
Until your kids leave the house
Until you go back to school
Until you finish school
Until you lose 10 lbs.
Until you gain 10 lbs.
Until you get married
Until you have kids
Until you retire
Until summer
Until spring
Until winter
Until fall
Until you die

Ther is no better time than right now to be happy. Happiness is a journey, not a destination. So work like you don't need money, love like you've never been hurt, and dance like no one's watching.

God's Boxes
(March 6, 2011)

I have in my hands two boxes,
Which God gave me to hold.
He said, "put all your sorrows in the black
box, and all you joys in the gold."

I heeded His words, and in the two
boxes,
Both my joys and sorrows I stored,
but though the gold became heavier
each day,
The black was as light as before.

With curiosity, I opened the black,
I wanted to find out why,
And I saw, in the base of the box, a hole,
Which my sorrows had fallen out by.

I showed the hole to God, and mused,
"I wonder where my sorrows could be!"
He smiled a gentle smile and said,
"My child, they'rre all here with me.."

I asked God, why He gave me the boxes,
Why the gold and the black with the hole?
"My child, the gold is for you to count your
blessings,
The black is for you to let go."

Author Unknown

Burned Biscuits

When I was a kid, my Mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular
when she made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. On that evening so long ago, my Mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremley burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at Mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that biscuit and ate every bite!

When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my Mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And i'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burned biscuits."

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your Momma put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides- a little burned biscuit never hurt anyone!"

Life is full of imperfect things and imperfect poeple. I'm not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else. But what I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each other's faults- and choosing to celebrate each other's differences- is one of the most important keys.

"Don't put the key to your happiness in someone else's pocket- keep it in your own."

So please pass me a biscuit, and yes, the burned one will do just fine.

Author Unknown

I Believe

(February 13, 2011)

I Believe....
That just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other.
And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do love each other.

I Believe....
That we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

I Believe....
That no matterhow good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a
while and you must forgive them for that.

I Believe....
That true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance..
Same goes for true love.

I Believe....
That you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

I Believe....
That it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

I Believe....
That you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last
time you see them.

I Believe....
That you can keep going long after you think you can't.

I Believe....
That we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

I Believe....
That either you control your attitude or it controls you.

I Believe....
That heros are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done,
regardless of the consequences.

I Believe....
That money is a lousy way of keeping score.

I Believe....
That my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.

I Believe....
That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down will be the
ones to help you get back up.

I Believe....
That somethimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't
give me the right to be cruel.

I Believe....
That maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had and
what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've
celebrated.

I Believe....
That no matter how bad your heart is broken, the world doesn't stop for your grief.

I Believe....
That our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are,
but we are rresponsible for who we become.

I Believe....
That you shouldn't be so egar to find out a secret. It could change your life forever.

I Believe....
Two people can look at the exat same thing and see something totally different.

I Believe....
That your life can be changed in a matter of seconds by people who don't even
know you.

I Believe....
That even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you -
you will find the strength to help.

I Believe....
That credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.

I Believe....
That people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.

I Believe....
That hppiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make
the most of everything they have.

Arthor Unknown

Special Contribution
(February 6, 2011)

The elders would like to thank you for your participation in the special contribution to benefit the Churches of Christ Disaster Relief Center. As of Sunday evening, the total contributions was above $2700.00 Your participation in the financial contributions and prayers go a long way in helping people that suffer to know that the church cares about them.

This opportunity to serve others allowed us to be reminded that God is watching over us, he has a purpose for our lives, and He will protect and care for us. When life tumbles in, we all need to be reminded that this world is not our home. Thank God that he has the best future in store for us!

Gary Dodd

New Year's Prayer
(January 30, 2011)

Heavenly Father, for this coming year
Just one request I bring.
I do not pray for happiness or any earthly thing.
I do not ask to understand the way you lead me;
But this I ask-teach me to do the thing that pleases You.
I want to know Your guiding voice,
To walk with You each day.
Heavenly Father,
Make me swift to hear and ready to obey;
And thus the year I now begin
A happy year will be,
If I am seeking just to do
The thing that pleases You.

Author Unknown

Churches of Christ

Disaster Relief Effort
( January 16, 2011)

The Churches of Christ Disaster Relief Effort immediately responds to any major disaster in the continental United States
by sending truckloads of emergency food, water, cleaning, and other supplies to disaster victims. With a small paid staff
and numerous unpaid volunteers, the Churches of Christ Disaster Relief Effort continues to successfully serve others to the glory of God.

The Churches of Christ Disaster Relief Effort unofficially began operations in 1990. Since then, the organization has distributed more than $106 million in emergency food and supplies in responce to 301 disasters in 42 states. Christians still pray, desire to serve others, and are willing to work striving to bring others to Jesus.

A New Year's Prayer
(January 9, 2011)

May God make your year a happy one!
Not by shielding you from all sorrows and pain,
But by strenthening you to bear it, as it comes;
Not by making you sturdy to travel any path;
Not by taking hardships from you,
But by taking fear from your heart;
Not by granting you unbroken sunshine,
But by keeping your face bright, even in the shadows;
Not by making your life always pleasent,
But by showing you when people and their causes need you most, and by making you anxious to be there to help.
God's love, peace, hope and joy to you for the year ahead.

Author Unknown

Recipe for a Happy New Year

(January 2, 2011)

Take twelve whole months,
Clean them thoroughly of all bitterness, hate, and jealousy,
Make them just as fresh and clean as possible.

Now cut each month into twenty-eight, thirty, or tgirty-one different parts,
but don't make up the whole batch at once.
Prepare it one day at a time out of these ingredients.
Mix well into each day one part of faith,
one part of patience, one part of courage, and one part of work.

Add to each day one part of hope,
faithfulness, generosity, and kindness.
Blend with one part prayer,
one part meditation, and one good deed.
Season the whole with a dash of good spirits,
a sprinkle of fun, a pinch of play,
and a cupful of good humor.

Pour all of this into a vessel of love.
Cook thoroughly over radiant joy,
garnish with a smile,
and serve with quietness, unselfishness, and cheerfulness.

You're bound to have a happy new year.

Author Unknown

Why Jesus is Better Than Santa Claus

(December 12, 2010)

Santa lives at the North Pole...
JESUS is everywhere.

Santa rides in a sleigh...
JESUS rides on the wind and walks on the water.

Santa comes but once a year...
JESUS is an ever present help.

Santa fills your stockings with goodies...
JESUS supplies all your needs.

Santa comes down your chimney uninvited...
JESUS stands at your door and knocks, and then enters your heart when invited.

You have to wait in line to see Santa...
JESUS is as close as the mention of His name.

Santa lets you sit on his lap...
JESUS lets you rest in His arms.

Santa doesn't know your name, all he can say is "Hi little boy or girl, what's your name?"...
JESUS knew our name before we were born. Not only does He know our name, He knows our address too. He knows our history and future and He even knows how many hairs are on our heads.

Santa has a belly like a bowl full of jelly...
JESUS has a heart full of love.

All Santa can offer is HO HO HO...
JESUS offers health, help and hope.

Santa says, "You better not cry"...
JESUS says, "Cast your cares on me for I care for you."

Santa's little helpers make toys...
JESUS makes new life, mends wounded hearts, repairs broken homes and builds mansions.

Santa may make you chuckle but...
JESUS gives you joy that is your strength.

While Santa puts gifts under your tree...
JESUS became our gift and died on a tree... the cross.

--Author Unknown

Two Babes in a Manger

(December 5, 2010)

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, business, 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 and looking 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 mama 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 game 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 dead 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. I've learned that it's not what you have in your life, but who you have in your life that counts.

--Author Unknown

Thanksgiving Special

(November 21, 2010)

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a spring breeze.

Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor automobile accident stole her ease. During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough her husband's company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come. What's worse, Sandra's friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "Had she lost a child? --No --she has no idea what I'm feeling," Sandra shuddered. Thanksgiving? "Thankful for what?" she wondered.

For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The flowershop clerks approach startled her. "Sorry," said Jenny, "I just didn't want you to think I was ignoring you." "I... I need an arrangement." "For Thanksgiving?" Sandra nodded. "Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special." Jenny say Sandra's curiosity and continued. "I'm convinced that flowers tell stories, that each arrangement insinuates particular feeling. Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude with Thanksgiving?"

"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted. "Sorry, but in the last five months, everything that could go wrong has." Sandra regretted her outburst but was surprised when Jenny said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you." The door's small bell suddenly rang. "Barbara! Hi," Jenny said. She politely excused herself from Sandra and walked toward a small workroom. She quickly reappeared carrying a massive arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Only, the ends of the rose stems were nearly snipped, no flowers.

"Want this in a box?" Jenny asked.

Sandra watched for Barbara's response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems and no flowers! She waited for laughter, for someone to notice the absence of flowers atop the thorny stems, but neither woman did.

"Yes, please. It's exquisite," said Barbara. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I'd not be so moved by its significance, but it's happening again. My family will love this one. Thanks."

Sandra stared. "Why so normal a conversation about so strange an arrangement?" she wondered. "Ah, said Sandra, pointing." That lady just left with, ah..." "Yes?" "Well, she had no flowers!" "Right, I cut off the flowers." "Off?" "Off. Yep. That's the Special. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet." "But why do people pay for that?" In spite of herself she chuckled. "Do you really want to know?" "I couldn't leave this shop without knowing. I'd think about nothing else!" "That might be good," said Jenny. "Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today. She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she faced major surgery."

"Ouch!" said Sandra. "That same year, I lost my husband. I assumed complete responsibility for the shop and for the first time, spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel." "What did you do?" "I learned to be thankful for thorns." Sandra's eyebrows lifted. "Thorns?" "I'm a Christian, Sandra. I've always thanked God for good things in life and I never thought to ask Him why good things happened to me. But, when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask? It took time to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the 'flowers' of life but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."

Sandra gasped. "A friend read that passage to me and I was furious! I guess the truth is I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God." She started to ask Jenny to "go on" when the door's bell diverted their attention. "Hey, Phil!" shouted Jenny as a balding, rotund man entered the shop. She softly touched Sandra's arm and moved to welcome him. He tucked her under his side for a warm hug.

"I'm here for twelve thorny long-stemmed stems!" Phil laughed, heartily. "I figured as much," said Jenny. "I've got them ready." She lifted a tissue wrapped arrangement from the refrigerated cabinet. "Beautiful," said Phil. "My wife will love them." Sandra could not resist asking. "These are for your wife?" Phil saw that Sandra's curiosity matched his when he first heard of a Thorn Bouquet.

"Do you mind me asking, 'Why thorns?'" "In fact, I'm glad you asked," he said. "Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mes, but we slogged through, problem by rotten problem. We rescued our marriage--our love, really. Last year at Thanksgiving I stopped in here for flowers. I must have mentioned surviving a tough process because Jenny told me that for a long time she kept a vase of rose stems--stems!--as a reminder of what she learned from "thorny" times. That was good enough for me. I took home stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific thorny situation and give thanks for what the problem taught us. I'm pretty sure this stem review is becoming a tradition."

Phil paid Jenny, thanked her again and as he left, said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!" "I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life." Sandra said to Jenny. "Well, my experience says that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, Sandra, Jesus wore a crown of thorns so that we might know His love. Do not resent thorns."

Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take twelve long-stemmed thorns, please." "I hoped you would," Jenny said. "I'll have them ready in a minute. Then, everytime you see them, remember to appreciate both good and hard times. We grow through both." "Thank you. What do I owe you?" "Nothing, Nothing but a pledge to work toward healing your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me." Jenny handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach a card like this to your arrangement but maybe you'd like to read it first. Go ahead, read it."

"My God, I have never thanked Thee for my thorn! I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorn. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear, teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow.---George Matheson"

Jenny said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Sandra," handing her the Special. "I look forward to our knowing each other better." Sandra smiled. She turned, opened the door and walked toward hope.

--Author Unknown

Around the Table

(November 21, 2010)

One Thanksgiving season a family was seated around their table, looking at the annual holiday bird. From the oldest to the youngest, they were to express their praise. When they came to the 5-year-old in the family, he began by looking at the turkey and expressing his thanks to the turkey, saying although he had not tasted it he knew it would be good. After that rather novel expression of thanksgiving, he began with a more predictable line of credits, thanking his mother for cooking the turkey and his father for buying the turkey. But then he went beyond that. He joined together a whole hidden multitude of benefactors, linking them with cause and effect.

He said, "I thank you for the checker at the grocery store who checked out the turkey. I thank you for the grocery store people who put it on the shelf. I thank you for the farmer who made it fat. I thank you for the man who made the feed. I thank you for those who brought the turkey to the store."

Using his Columbo-like little mind, he traced the turkey all the way from its origin to his plate. And then at the end he solemnly said, "Did I leave anybody out?"

His 3-year-older brother, embarrassed by all those proceedings, said, "God."

Solemnly and without being flustered at all, the 5-year-old said, "I was about to get to him."

Well, isn't that the question about which we ought to think at Thanksgiving time? Are we really going to get to him this Thanksgiving?

--Author Unknown

God's Plan
(November 7, 2010)

Some things are beyond planning.
And life doesn't always turn out as planned.
You don't plan for a broken heart.
You don't plan for a failed business venture.
You don't plan for an adulterous husband or a wife who wants you out of her life.
You don't plan for an autistic child.
You don't plan for spinsterhood.
You don't plan for a lump in your breast.

You plan to be young forever.
You plan to climb the corporate ladder.
You plan to be rich and powerful.
You plan to be acclaimed and successful.
You plan to conquer the universe.
You plan to fall in love and be loved forever.

You don't plan to be sad.
You don't plan to be hurt.
You don't plan to be broke.
You don't plan to be betrayed.
You don't plan to be alone in this world.
You plan to be happy. You don't plan to be shattered.
Sometimes if you work hard enough, you can get what you want.
But MOST times, what you want and what you get are two different things.

We, mortals, plan. But so does God in the heavens.
Sometimes, it is difficult to understand God's plans especially when His plans are not in consonance with ours.
Often, when God sends us crisis, we turn to Him in anger.
True, we cannot choose the cross with courage knowing that God will never abandon us nor send something we cannot cope with.

Sometimes, God breaks our spirit to save our soul.
Sometimes, He breaks our heart to make us whole.
Sometimes, God allows pain so we can be stronger.
Sometimes, God sends us failures so we can be humble.
Sometimes, God allows illness so we can take better care of ourselves.
Sometimes, God takes everything away from us so we can learn the value of everything He gave us.

Make plans, but understand that we live by God's grace.

The $1,000,000 Sunday

(October 31, 2010)

This coming Sunday, the elders are asking us to help provide biblical libraries to over 250,000 students in 1,063 schools in the states of krasnoyarsk and Ivano-Frankivsk in Russia and Ukraine. This is a wonderful opportunity to provide the Bible and teaching materials to adults and children in the native languages. The biblical libraries will be placed in public school libraries.

Each library includes enough Bibles for all students to be able to study during their class time. The Bible is also being integrated into classes on art, history, literature, and character. Teachers are being trained by Eastern European Missions seminars on how to present the material.

Please participate in this special effort by praying for this ministry and considering providing a financial gift.

--Gary Dodd

The $1,000,000 Sunday

(October 24, 2010)

On the fift Sunday of this month, the elders are asking us to help provide biblical literaries to over 250,000 students in 1,063 schools in the states of Krasnoyarsk and Ivano-Frankivsk in Russia and Ukraine. The biblical literaries will be placed in public school libraries.

Each library includes enough Bibles for all students to be able to study during their class time. The Bible is also being integrated into classes on art, history, literature, and character. Teachers are being trained by Eastern European Missions seminars on how to present the material.

Please participate in this special effort by praying for this ministry and considering providing a financial gift.

Workers in God's Harvest Field

Wheat grown tall, swaying gently underneath blue skies, and ready to be harvested is a common scene in Nebraska. Jesus used the analogy of the harvest to remind his followers that they are constantly surrounded by people that live in God's harvest field. Our prayers should include asking God to send out workers into his harvest field.

On Sunday, October 24, you have an opportunity to meet Lee and Carol Rottman. The Rottmans are part of the answer to the prayers for harvest field workers. Lee and Carol live in Columbus, Nebraska and are allowing God to work through them as they endeavor to tell the people that they meet about Jesus Christ.

Lee will make a presentation about th ework of the church in Columbus, Nebraska in the auditorium Bible class at 9:00 am on Sunday morning. Lee will preach the Gospel during the worship service which begins at 10:00 am.

Lee and Carol are two very talented workers in God's harvest field. They open their hearts and home to teach those who do not know Christ or need to learn more fully about their Savior. They continue to teach new converts by studying 52 different biblical topics with them.

We can look forward to being blessed this coming Sunday morning. If at all possible, I hope you will be present to learn about God's work in Nebraska and to encourage Lee and Carol.

--Gary

Clay Balls

(October 17, 2010)

A man was exploring caves by the seashore. In one of the caves he found a canvas bag with a bunch of hardened clay balls. It was like someone had rolled clay balls and left them out in the sun to bake. They didn't look like much, but they intrigued the man, so he took the back out of the cave with him. As he strolled along the beach, he would throw the clay balls one at a time out into the ocean as far as he could.

He thought little about it, until he dropped one of the clay balls and it cracked open on a rock. Inside was a beautiful, precious stone! Excited, the man started breaking open the remaining clay balls. Each contained a similar treasure. He found thousands of dollars worth of jewels in the 20 or so clay balls he had left.

Then it struck him. he had been on the beach for a long time. He had thrown maybe 50 or 60 of the clay balls with their hidden treasure into the ocean waves. Instead of thousands of dollars in treasure, he could have taken home tens of thousands, but he had just thrown it away!

It's like that with people. We look at someone, maybe even ourselves, and we see the external clay vessel. It doesn't look like much from the outside. It isn't always beautiful or sparkling, so we discount it.

We see that person as less important than someone more beautiful or stylish, or well known or wealthy. But we have not taken the time to find the treasure hidden inside that person.

There is a treasure in each and every one of us. If we take the time to get to know that person, and if we ask God to show us that person the way He sees them, then the clay begins to peel away and the brilliant gem begins to shine forth.

May we not come to the end of our lives and find out that we have thrown away a fortune in friendships because the gems were hidden in bits of clay. May we see people in our world as God sees them.

--Author Unknown

Forgiveness

(October 10, 2010)

A letter written to a man on death row by the Father of the man whom the man on death row had killed:

You are probably surprised that I, of all people, am writing a letter to you, but I ask you to read it in its entirety and consider its request seriously. As the Father of the man whom you took part in murdering, I have something very important to say to you.

I forgive you. With all my heart, I forgive you. I realize it may be hard for you to believe, but I really do. At your trial, when you confessed to your part in the events that cost my Son his life and asked for my forgiveness, I immediately granted you that forgiving love from my heart. I can only hope you believe me and will accept my forgiveness.

But this is not all I have to say to you. I want to make you an offer--I want you to become my adopted child. You see, my Son who died was my only child, and I now want to share my life with you and leave my riches to you. This may not make sense to you or anyone else, but I believe you are worth the offer. I have arranged matters so that if you will receive my offer of forgiveness, not only will you be pardoned for your crime, but you also will be set free from your imprisonment, and you will become my adopted child and heir to all my riches.

I realize this is a risky offer for me to make to you--you might be tempted to reject my offer completely--but I make it to you without reservation.

Also, I realize it may seem foolish to make such an offer to one who cost my Son his life, but I now have a great love and an unchangeable forgiveness in my heart for you.

Finally, you may be concerned that once you accept my offer to, you may do something to cause you to be denied your rights as an heir to my wealth. Nothing could be further from the truth. If I can forgive you for your part in my Son's death, I can forgive you for anything. I know you never will be perfect, but yo do not have to be perfect to receive my offer. Besides, I believe that once you have accepted my offer and begin to experience the riches that will come to you not for me, that your primary (though not always) response will be gratitude and loyalty.

Some would call me foolish for my offer to you, but I wish for you to call me your Father.

Sincerely,
The Father of Jesus

--Author unknown

A Strong Woman Vs. A Woman of Faith

(October 3, 2010)

A strong woman works out every day to keep her body in shape... but a woman of strength kneels in prayer to keep her soul in shape...

A strong woman isn't afraid of anything... but a woman of strength shows courage in the midst of her fear...

A strong woman won't let anyone get the best of her... but a woman of strength gives the best of her to everyone...

A strong woman makes mistakes and avoids the same in the future... a woman of strength realizes life's mistakes can also be God's blessings and capitalizes on them...

A strong woman walks out footedly... but a woman of strength knows God will catch her when she falls...

A strong woman wears the look of confidence on her face... but a woman of strength wears grace...

A strong woman has faith that she is strong enough for the journey... but a woman of strength has faith that it is in the journey that she will become strong...

--Author unknown

Questions

(September 26, 2010)

I asked God to take away my pain. God said, No. It is not for me to take away, but for you to give it up.

I asked God to make my handicapped child whole. God said, No. Her spirit was whole, her body was only temporary.

I asked God to grant me patience. God said, No. Patience is a by-product of tribulations. It isn't granted, it isn't earned.

I asked God to give me happiness. God said, No. I give you blessings. Happiness is up to you.

I asked God to spare me pain. God said, No. Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares and brings you closer to me.

I asked God to make my spirit grow. God said, No. You must grow on your own, but I will prune you to make you fruitful.

I asked for all things that I might enjoy life. God said, No. I will give you life so that you may enjoy all things.

I asked God to help me LOVE others, as much as he loves me. God said... Ahhhh, finally you have an idea.

--Author unknown

The Shadow of the Cross

(September 19, 2010)

A young man who had been raised as an atheist was training to be an Olympic diver. The only religious influence in his life came 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. The shadow of his body 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 walked in and turned the lights on. The pool had been drained for repairs.

--Author unknown

The Alphabet Prayer

(September 12, 2010)

Every child comes with the message that God is not yet discouraged with man. Now the story goes, a little shepherd boy was watching his sheep one Sunday morning and he heard the bells of the church ringing. And watching the people walk along the pasture where he was, he happened to think to himself, "I would like to communicate with God! But, what can I say to God?"

He had never learned a prayer. So, on bended knee, he began to recite the alphabet. Repeating this prayer several times, a man passing by heard the boy's voice and peaked through the bushes. He saw the young boy kneeling with folded hands, eyes closed, repeating the alphabet.

He interrupted the boy. "What are you doing, my little one?" he asked. The boy replied, "I was praying sir." The man seemed surprised and said, "But why are you reciting the alphabet?" The boy explained, "I don't know any prayers, sir. But I want God to take care of me, and to help me care for my sheep. And so I thought, if I said all I knew, He could put the letters together into words, and He would know all that I want and should say!"

The man smiled and said, "Bless your heart, God will!" And he went on to church knowing full well that he had heard the finest sermon he could possibly hear that day.

Maybe if we thought like little children and let God put together the letters, what we should want, and what we should say, things would probably work out a lot better than we planned!!!

--Author Unknown

The Pencil

(September 5, 2010)

The Pencil Maker told the Pencil 5 important lessons before putting it in the box:

1. Everything you do will always leave a mark.
2. You can always correct the mistakes you make.
3. What is important is what is inside of you.
4. In life, you will undergo painful sharpening, which will only make you better.
5. To be the best pencil, you must allow yourself to be held and guided by the hand that holds you.

We all need to be constantly sharpened. This story may encourage you to know that you are a special person, with unique God-given talents and abilities. Only you can fulfill the purpose which you were born to accomplish. Never allow yourself to get discouraged and think that your life is insignificant and cannot be changed, and, like the pencil, always remember that the most important part of who you are is what's inside of you.

--Author Unknown

Logic 101

(August 29, 2010)

A college student was in a philosophy class
which had a discussion about God's existence.
The professor presented the following logic:

"Has anyone in this class heard God?"
Nobody spoke.
"Has anyone in this class touched God?"
Again, nobody spoke.
"Has anyone in this class seen God?"
When nobody spoke for the third time, he simply stated,
"Then there is no God."

One student thought for a second, and then asked for permission to reply.
Curious to hear this bold student's response, the professor granted it,
and the student stood up and asked the following questions of his classmates:

"Has anyone in this class heard our professor's brain?"
Silence.
"Has anyone in this class touched our professor's brain?"
Absolute silence.
"Has anyone in this class seen our professor's brain?"
When nobody in the class dared to speak, the student concluded,
"Then, according to our professor's logic, it must be true that our professor
has no brain!"

(... The student received an "A" in the class.)

--Author Unknown

The Burden

(August 22, 2010)

"Why was my burden so heavy?" I slammed the bedroom door and leaned against it. Is there no rest from this life? I wondered. I stumbled to my bed and dropped onto it, pressing my pillow around my ears to shut out the noise of my existence. "Oh God," I cried, "let me sleep. Let me sleep forever and never wake up!" With a deep sob I tried to will myself into oblivion, then welcomed the blackness that came over me.

Light surrounded me as I regained consciousness. I focused on its source. The figure of a man standing before a cross. "My child," the person asked, "why did you want to come to Me before I am ready to call you?" "Lord, I'm sorry. It's just that... I can't go on. You see how hard it is for me. Look at this awful burden on my back. I simply can't carry it anymore." "But haven't I told you to cast all your burdens upon Me, because I care for you? My yoke is easy, and My burden is light." "I knew You would say that. But why does mine have to be so heavy?" "My child, everyone in the world has a burden. Perhaps you would like to try a different one?" "I can do that?" He pointed to several burdens lying at His feet. "You may try any of these."

All of them seemed to be of equal size. But each was labeled with a name. "There's Joan's," I said. Joan was married to a wealthy businessman. She lived in a sprawling estate and dressed her three daughters in the prettiest designer clothes. Sometimes she drove me to church in her Cadillac when my car was broken. "Let me try that one." How difficult could her burden be? I thought. The Lord removed my burden and placed Joan's on my shoulders. I sank my knees beneath its weight. "Take it off!" I said. "What makes it so heavy?" "Look inside." I untied the straps and opened the top. Inside was a figure of her mother-in-law, and when I lifted it out, it began to speak. "Joan, you'll never be good enough for my son," it began. "He never should have married you. You're a terrible mother to my grandchildren..." I quickly placed the figure back in the pack and withdrew another. It was Donna, Joan's youngest daughter. Her head was bandaged from the surgery that had failed to resolve her epilepsy. A third figure was Joan's brother. Addicted to drugs, he had been convicted of killing a police officer. "I see why her burden is so heavy, Lord. But she's always smiling and helping others. I didn't realize..."

"Would you like to try another?" He asked quietly.

I tested several. Paula's felt heavy: She was raising four small boys without a father. Debra's did too: A childhood of sexual abuse and a marriage of emotional abuse. When I came to Ruth's burden, I didn't even try. I knew that inside I would find arthritis, old age, demanding full-time job, and a beloved husband in a nursing home.

"They're all too heavy, Lord" I said. "Give back my own." As I lifted the familiar load once again, it seemed much lighter than the others. "Let's look inside," He said. I turned away, holding it close. "That's not a good idea," I said. "Why?" "There's a lot of junk in there." "Let Me see." The gentle thunder of His voice compelled me. I opened my burden. He pulled out a brick. "Tell me about this one."

"Lord, You know. It's money. I know we don't suffer like people in some countries or even the homeless here in America. But we have no insurance, and when the kids get sick, we can't always take them to the doctor. They've never been to a dentist. And I'm tired of dressing them in hand-me-downs." "My child, I will supply all of your needs... and your children's. I've given them healthy bodies. I will teach them that expensive clothing doesn't make a person valuable in My sight."

Then He lifted out the figure of a small boy. "And this?" He asked. "Andrew..." I hung my head, ashamed to call my son a burden. "But, Lord, he's hyperactive. He's not quiet like the other two. He makes me so tired. He's always getting hurt, and someone is bound to think I abuse him. I yell at him all the time. Someday I may really hurt him..." "My child," He said, "if you trust Me, I will renew your strength, if you allow Me to fill you with My Spirit, I will give you patience."

Then He took some pebbles from my burden.

"Yes, Lord," I said with a sigh. "Those are small. But they're important. I have my hair. It's thin, and I can't make it look nice. I can't afford to go to the beauty shop. I'm overweight and can't stay on diet. I hate all my clothes. I hate the way I look!" "My child, people look at your outward appearance, but I look at your heart. By My Spirit you can gain self-control to lose weight. But your beauty should not come from outward appearance. Instead, it should come from your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in My sight." My burden now seemed lighter than before. "I guess I can handle it now" I said.

"There is more," He said. "Hand Me that last brick." "Oh, You don't have to take that. I can handle it." "My child, give it to Me." Again His voice compelled me. He reached out His hand, and for the first time I saw the ugly wound. "But, Lord, this brick is so awful, so nasty, so... Lord! What happened to Your hands? They're so scarred!" No longer focused on my burden, I looked for the first time into His face. In His brow were ragged scars, as though someone had pressed thorns into His flesh. "Lord," I whispered. "What happened to You?" His loving eyes reached into my soul. "My child, you know. Hand Me the brick. It belongs to Me. I bought it." "How?" "With My blood." "But why, Lord?" "Because I have loved you with an everlasting love. Give it to Me."

I placed the filthy brick into His wounded palm. It contained all the dirt and evil of my life: my pride, my selfishness, the depression that constantly tormented me. He turned to the cross and hurled my brick into the pool of blood at its base. It hardly made a ripple. "Now, My child, you need to go back. I will be with you always. When you are troubled, call to Me and I will help you and show you things you cannot imagine now." "Yes, Lord, I will call on You."

I reached to pick up my burden.

"You may leave that here if you wish. You see all these burdens? They are the ones that others have left at My feet. Joan's, Paula's, Debra's, Ruth's..." As I placed my burden with Him, the light began to fade. Yet I heard Him whisper, "I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

--Author Unknown

Ice Cream for the Soul

(August 15, 2010)

Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And liberty and justice for all! Amen."

Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby, I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!" Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?" As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him, an elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer." "Really?" my son asked. "Cross my heart."

Then in a theatrical whisper he added (indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."

Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life. He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."

--Author Unknown

An Unspoken Bible

(August 8, 2010)

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. King of esoteric and very, very bright. He became a Christian recently while attending college.

Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed very conservative church. 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. Although perfectly acceptable behavior at a college fellowship, trust me, this had never happened in this church before!

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, an Elder is slowly making his way toward Bill. Now the Elder 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 Elder 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."

--Author Unknown

The Ticket

(August 1, 2010)

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 anxious to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow. 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 me wife and kids."

"Yeah, I guess."

Bob seemed uncertain. Good. "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 started 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 every 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 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.

Life is precious. Handle with care.

--Author Unknown

The Son

(July 25, 2010)

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.

When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.

About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art."

The young man held out his package.

"I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this."

The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up in tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the portrait.

"Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."

The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected. The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son.

The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this portrait of the son. Who will bid for this painting?" There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted. "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted. "Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?" Another voice shouted angrily. "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!" But the auctioneer continued. "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?"

Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the long-time gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "We have $10, who will bid $20?" "Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters." ""$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?"

The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the painting of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for the collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!" A man sitting on the second row shouted. "Now let's get on with the collection!"

The auctioneer laid down his gavel.

"I'm sorry, the auction is over. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!"

God gave his son 2,000 years ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"

--Author Unknown

Everything I Need to Know I Learned From Noah's Ark

(July 18, 2010)

Don't miss the boat.

Plan ahead. It wasn't raining when Noah built the Ark.

Stay fit. When you're 600 years old, someone may ask you to do something really big.

Remember that we are all in the same boat.

Don't listen to critics, just get on with the job that needs to be done.

Build your future on high ground.

For safety's sake, travel in pairs.

Speed isn't always an advantage. The snails were on board with the cheetah's.

When you're stressed, float awhile.

Remember the Ark was built by amateurs, the Titanic by professionals.

No matter the storm, when you are with God there's always a rainbow waiting.

--Author Unknown

Sweating

(July 4, 2010)

When I traveled to Nigeria with Dr. Henry Farrar in February 1998, I learned a new definition of hot. We did not have air conditioning everywhere we went. This was the closest I had ever been to the equator.

Shortly after we arrived back in the States, Dr. Farrar came to make a presentation about our trip to the church on West End. Dr. Farrar reported on the number of people that had been served in a variety of ways during the trip and the number of surgeries that were completed.

Dr. Farrar also threw up a slide that included a picture of me. His comment was: "Your preacher sure can sweat!" Though I was hoping to hear a different type of comment about my contribution to the trip, Dr. Farrar made an accurate observation. And, since that time I have been able to demonstrate my "sweating" skills in places like Honduras, Panama, Haiti, and Nicaragua (with the Lord's blessings).

I am grateful for the Lord's design of our bodies and amazed at how he made us. It is marvelous to consider how God created us in a manner that our bodies self-regulate to protect and serve us in so many different ways.

But, I am embarrassed by the times that I have "sweated" spiritually. I am thinking of the times that I have been too much like the Lord's disciples and demonstrated that I did not trust the Lord fully.

I am praying that the Lord will increase my faith and my vision. I want to see the direction that he wants me to take and the manner in which Faith and I can best serve him for whatever time we have left on this earth.

When Jesus returns, I won't mind if he observes: "Your preacher sure can sweat!"--that is, if he is speaking about my working hard for him.

What I want to hear most is: "Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things, I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master's happiness!" (Matthew 25:21)

--Gary

Red Marbles

(June 20, 2010)

During the waning years of the depression in a small southeast Idaho community, I used to stop by Brother Miller's roadside stand for farm fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used extensively.

One of the particular day Brother Miller was bagging some new potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.

Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Brother Miller and the ragged boy next to me. "Hello Barry, how are you today?" "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas... sure look good." "They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?" "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time." "Good. Anything I can help you with?" "No, sir. Jus' admirin' them peas." "Would you like to take some home?" "No, sir. God nuthin' to pay for 'em with." "Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?" "All I got's my prize marble here." "Is that right? Let me see it." "Here 'tis." "'She's a dandy. I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this one at home?" "Not 'zackley.... but, almost." "Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble." "Sure will."

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said: "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps.

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Utah but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys and their bartering.

Several years went by each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there I learned that Brother Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them.

Upon our arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts... very professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men that just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size... they came to pay their debt. We've never had a great deal of the wealth in this world," she confided, "but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three, magnificently shiny, red marbles.

We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

--Unknown Author

Guest Minister

(June 13, 2010)

After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church's pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was in service that evening.

In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service. With that, an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak.

"A father, his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific coast," he began, "when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to the shore. The waves were so high, that even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized."

The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began, looking somewhat interested in his story.

The aged minister continued with his story, "grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life: to which boy he would throw the other end of the lifeline. He only had seconds to make the decision. The father knew that his son was a Christian and he also knew that his son's friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves."

"As the father yelled out, 'I love you son!' he threw out the life line to his son's friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat, his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered." By this time, the two teenagers were sitting upstraight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old minister's mouth.

"The father," he continued, "knew his son would step into eternity with Jesus and he could not bear the thought of his son's friend stepping into an eternity without Jesus.... Therefore, he sacrificed his son to save the son's friend.

How great is the love of God that he should do the same for us. Our heavenly Father sacrificed his only begotten Son that we could be saved. I urge you to accept His offer to rescue you and take a hold of the life line he is throwing out to you in this service.

With that, the old man turned and sat back down in his chair as silence filled the room. The pastor again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal. Within minutes after service ended, the two teenagers were at the old man's side. "That was a nice story," politely stated one of the boys. "But I don't think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son's life in hopes that the other boy would become a Christian."

"Well, you've got a point there," the old man replied, glancing down at his worn Bible. A big smile broadened his narrow face. He once again looked up at the boys and said, "It sure isn't very realistic, is it? But I'm standing here today to tell you that story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up His son for me. You see... I was that father and your pastor is my son's friend."

--Unknown Author

The Pencil

(June 6, 2010)

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box. There are 5 things you need to know, he told the pencil, before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone's hand.
Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you'll need it to become a better pencil.
Three: You will be able to correct mistakes you will make.
Four: The most important part of you will always be what's inside.
And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write.

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.

Now replacing the place of the pencil with you; always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in God's hand. And allow other human beings to access you for the many gifts you possess.
Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by going through various problems, but you'll need it to become a stronger person.
Three: You will be able to correct mistakes you might make or grow through them.
Four: The most important part of you will always be what's on the inside.
And Five: On every surface you walk, you must leave your mark. No matter what the situation, you must continue to serve God in everything.

By understanding and remembering, let us proceed with our life on this earth having a meaningful purpose in our heart and a relationship with God.

--Author Unknown

Refuge from the Storm

(May 30, 2010)

Years ago a farmer owned a land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops.

As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals. Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farmhand?" the farmer asked him. "Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man. Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him.

The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shoot the little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they bow away!"

The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows." Enraged by the old man's response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm.

To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his hired man meant, and he returned to bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

SPIRITUAL TRUTH: When you're prepared, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the wind blows through your life? The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he had secured the farm against the storm. We secure ourselves against the storms of life by grounding ourselves firmly in the Word of God.

--unknown author

Nobody's Friend

(May 23, 2010)

My name is Gossip.
I have no respect for justice.
I maim without killing.
I break hearts and ruin lives.
I am cunning and malicious
and gather strength with age.
The more I am quoted, the more I am believed.
My victims are helpless.
They cannot protect themselves against me because I have no name and no face.
To track me down is impossible.
The harder you try, the more elusive I become.
I am nobody's friend.
Once I tarnish a reputation, it is never the same.
I topple governments and wreck marriages.
I ruin careers and cause sleepless nights, heartaches, and indigestion.
I make innocent people cry in their pillows.
Even my name hisses.
I am called Gossip.
I make headlines and headaches.
Before you repeat a story, ask yourself:
Is it true?
Is it harmless?
Is it necessary?
If it isn't, don't repeat it.

--author unknown

No Ugly Ducklings

(May 2, 2010)

My weekday schedule involves leaving my house around 5:30am. I try to arrive at a place where I can grab a cup of coffee, pray, and study near my current clinical site by 6:00 am. I pulled into the parking lot of a Panera bread in Hendersonville, TN and was greeted by a mother and father with twelve children walking across the parking lot.

Every one of the children were beautiful, and they all looked like they were about the same age!

Instead of walking, I guess I should say "waddling." Two mallard ducks with distinctly colored plumage were surrounded by twelve brownish colored ducklings trying their best to keep up with their mama and papa. I am not sure where they were going, but I am happy we crossed paths. It made me forgot about reviewing my "to do" list. I lost all thoughts about making decisions about my future plans. Any problems I have fashioned.

For a few moments, I got lost in the wonder of God's creation.

I interrupted the duck family's morning stroll. They turned and scurried back to their nearby pond, and, I assume, their temporary home. I could not help but to follow them and watch them slide down the hill and into the water.

When you consider what God has done with the smallest creatures, you can see the beauty of family, the intricacies of the creative powers of God, and the balance God designed in nature.

What a blessing and what a joy to see the glory of God in newborn ducklings! I saw no ugly ducklings. They, and we, are all beautiful in the eyes of the One who created and providentially cares for us.

I am amazed at the gifts that God provides in the midst of every day--if we open our eyes to behold them.

--Gary

Lessons to Learn From a Postage Stamp

(April 25, 2010)

Stamps Bear the Image of Dignity. A stamp bears the image of Washington, Lincoln or some other famous person or event. Man is made in the image of God.

Stamps Are Not All Alike. Stamps are of various values--some five cents, ten cents, some fifteen cents. Our talents differ. We must do what we can.

Stamps Co-Operate--Work Together. A "five-center" will work with three, four, or a dozen others, the same as if alone. Christians are to work together, to co-operate, to be united in doing together what one cannot do alone.

A Ragged Edge is No Real Hindrance. Like stamps, some Christians are a little ragged on the edge. Some lack good looks, an education, or money, but this will not keep them from doing a good job.

A Stamp Must Be "Licked." Man, too, must usually get "licked" before he is of much importance. Hardships are good for us if we endure.

A Stamp is Not Ready to Go Until It Is Cancelled Out. Our old life of sin must be cancelled out--blotted out.

A Stamp Works Till It Reaches Its Destination. So must we as we strive for heaven.

--Gus Nichols (reprinted from Natchez Trace Church of Christ Bulletin)

What Makes a Great Church?

(April 18, 2010)

Many years ago, Dr. Batsell Barrett Baxter preached a sermon entitled: What Makes a Great Church?

In his lesson, brother Baxter emphasized that characteristics that make a church great include:

Understanding of God's will.
A deep consecration, a giving of ourselves to the Lord.
A willingness to work.
Love of the brethren or fellowship.
Christian unity.

He concluded his lesson by stating: "When you have told the story in these terms then you have spelled out greatness." Though Central's attendance is not fewer in number than in the past, I am impressed that you exhibit the characteristics that brother Baxter highlighted in his presentation of the word of God. While I am away this week at Ohio Valley University, I am confident that you will be studying God's word, serving each other, laboring in love, and maintaining the unity of the Spirit.

Faith and I are grateful that you allow us to be a part of the Central church.

--Gary

How Do You Spell Relief?

(April 11, 2010)

Matthew 4 reveals that it is not only Jesus that has to deal with temptation. Satan is after all of us. The basic message of Jesus' preaching was: "Repent, for the kingdom of God is near."

When Andrew, Simon, James, and John were called to follow Jesus, they had to deal with temptation. They had to decide whether to hold on to their nets or to take hold of Christ. Unless you are firmly convinced in your heart that God is who Jesus revealed Him to be, the difficulty in dealing with temptation will always be greater.

We need to encourage each other as we live in a world that is not our eternal home. Satan will pursue each of our souls just as he did the souls of Jesus, Andrew, Simon (Peter), James, and John. When temptation comes, how do you spell relief?

Review the scene in the wilderness temptations of Jesus together.

How did Jesus find relief from temptation?

What types of temptations did the first disciples called by Jesus face in deciding whether or not to follow Jesus?

What can we learn about how we should spell relief when Satan confronts us?

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it. (I Cor. 10:13)

--Gary

My Prayer For You

(April 4, 2010)

I was up on Monday morning and shortly on my way to Hendersonville for a day's work in a new clinic site. My mind was filled with typical concerns at the beginning of the week.

Though our children are grown and married, as parents we are still mindful of their stage in life. We pray for our children as they serve God, build relationships, and pursue new goals.

We are looking toward another educational experience coming to an end in about four months. We continue to pray about how God will work through our lives, focused on growing in our marriage, and dreaming about the adventure of serving God. Like most people, we are focused on specific tasks that need to be accomplished. Projects always need to be completed at home. Work assignments or homework clamor for our attention. We each have activities we enjoy, and we try to fit them into our daily schedule.

Time is limited. Each day is new and filled with unexpected opportunities.

Then I opened an e-mail and read about a local family whose days are consumed with the health of their little boy. I cannot imagine their pain, and am overwhelmed by the love and concern they have for their child.

I have mentioned many items that fill our minds each day. Some reflect that we might call the higher ideals. Other activities that we might classify as lesser ideals are still part of God's plan for our lives.

I have said all this to express one thought. I am strongly reminded this morning that "God is God, and I am not." We are all dependent on our Father.

So my prayer for you and me today is that we will look to God, speak to Him through His Son, and rely on the comfort and guidance that He gives us through His Spirit. This is our task as we continue on our soul journey. And, we are most blessed to have a God who loves us and will guide us home and take care of us today.

"But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore, do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matthew 6:33-34)

--Gary

If You Were

(March 28, 2010)

If you were busy being kind,
Before you knew it you would find
You'd soon forget to think 'twas true
That someone was unkind to you.

If you were busy being glad
And cheering people who seem sad,
Although your heart might ache a bit,
You'd soon forget to notice it.

If you were busy being good,
And doing just the best you could,
You'd not have time to blame some man
Who's doing just the best he can.

If you were busy being true
To what you know you ought to do,
You'd be so busy you'd forget
The blunders of the folks you've met.

If you were busy being right,
You'd find yourself too busy quite
To criticize your brother long,
Because he's busy being wrong.

--author unknown

"It Will Take Him 24 Years to Complete the 1st Grade, Mrs. Dodd"

(March 21, 2010)

Can you imagine being a mother and being told that it will take your child 24 years to complete the 1st grade? That's unheard of! You've got to be kidding! What wrong with my child? These would be just some of the phrases that might have come to mind had Faith, in reality, been told that about our child. But did you know that if a child went through elementary school at the same rate he goes through Bible classes on Sunday morning, it would take a child 24 years to complete the equivalent of time spent in the first grade? A first grader spend approximately 936 hours in school. If a Bible class lasts 45 minutes and if you attend a class every Sunday morning, you will only spend 39 hours in Bible class in an entire year. It would take 24 years for the hours in Bible class to equal the 936 hours spent in the first grade.

But preacher, you might object, I come every Wednesday evening. Okay then, you might finish the first grade equivalency mark in 12 years. But if we are going to get picky, let's deduct the time for starting late, making announcements, bad weather days, vacation, etc. Soon we will agree that we spend very little time in Bible study when we compare the amount of time spent in Bible classes with other "preparation" activities that are part of our lives.

It is difficult to find an appropriate analogy to emphasize the need for personal study of God's word. A key is making sure that there is a proper balance in what we feed our minds. We also need to be honest in evaluating how much we desire to know God.

I cannot require that my children spend an amount of time in Bible study each day that equals the amount of time they spend in school. I hope I can teach and model the importance of reading and studying the word of God. In the midst of schedules which include school (or work), extracurricular activities, entertainment choices, rest, daily care and hygiene, we all need to take the time to become better acquainted with and to commune with God.

Did you know that if you live 96 years old and never miss a Bible class on Sunday mornings or Wednesday evenings, you only would complete the equivalency of the eighth grade in Bible study? I hope you will go for your doctorate and more as you prepare for eternity!

--Gary

Mostly Sunny Sky in Haiti

(March 14, 2010)

Sunday morning, I walked across a courtyard surrounded by concrete block walls. To my right was a small fish hatchery filled with tilapia of various sizes. Beyond the pools of water was a garden. You walk between the fish hatchery and the garden and you see a small bull tied with a rope with a make-shift shed that is maybe four feet deep and seven feet long for a shade. Then, immediately in front of me as I scanned the lower right quadrant of the courtyard was a chicken coop with a several hens and a rooster.

In the upper left quadrant of the courtyard was a pavilion with several folded chairs. The exterior corner of the courtyard wraps around a pavilion, and the walls are topped with barbed-wire to protect the 30 children that live in the home next door. At the far end of the pavilion is a wooden speaker's stand that comes up to the top of my chest. Behind it, a small strip of yard separates you from a Haitian kitchen to my left and what looks like an outhouse to my right.

I am privileged to stand underneath spiders that are busily at work nine feet above my head and in front of the place where I will watch the rats run during the evening service in order to proclaim the love of Christ. People are dressed as nicely or nicer than what I often see in American churches. They have a blessed opportunity to stop their world for a few moments and to praise their Lord.

I looked at the people and wondered where they get their clothing, how their shirts or blouses are so bright and white, and how they were able to press their clothes, shine their shoes, and look so neat. Their eyes with which I made contact while I preached revealed a searching and a yearning for the Lord's blessings. Their smiles, nods of their heads, their open Bibles, and their beautiful voices expressed a confidence and trust that challenge my faith. I was speaking, but as they worshipped and studied, they were proclaiming a message that I needed to hear.

If I looked to a 45 degree angle to my left while I was preaching, I could see a newly constructed concrete wall. Between the wall and the fish hatchery, a slab of cements rests on the ground. The wall had fallen during the earthquake. All of the children but one were in their home when the earthquake shook the foundations of the children's lives. Beneath the slab of concrete that bears etchings of the statements of love from the children in the home lies the body of a four-year old boy that was found beneath the fallen wall. The children had removed the debris to find their "brother."

The children's home survived the earthquake, but the middle of the courtyard was covered with tent. For a month, the children were afraid to sleep inside.

I do not know what the people heard when I preached on Sunday morning, but I am still learning lessons from the sermon I saw as I spoke under a mostly sunny sky in Haiti and watched reflections of the Son from some people that know Jesus better than I do.

--Gary