Unexpected Reward
by Marilyn Ford
During the Great Depression a pastor reluctantly told his congregation that they would no longer be able to
support a mission station in India because of their own financial difficulties.
A Christian widow pled with the congregation to keep up the support, promising to pay the monthly pledge herself,
even though she had a family to care for.
She kept her word, although it was a struggle and a hardship for her.
To add to her difficulties, her two sons left home. Months passed with no word from them. But all the time the
widow continued to scrimp and save to pay the pledge to the mission station in India.
Then one day she received a letter from one of her sons. Both had joined the Merchant Marine and in the course
of their travels had visited a city in India.
Imagine the joy in that mother's heart as the boys told her they had found a mission in that city and both had
been gloriously saved.
Perhaps you have guessed it--it was the very same mission the mother had helped to keep open with her faithful
sacrifices month after month.
Truly the Lord rewards our faithfulness in ways of which we would never dream!
There once was an old man who lived in South Korea. After the war, times were hard and life wasn't easy. His
occupation was that of a metal collector (the lowest job possible at the time). He would search garbage can after
garbage can looking for scraps of metal which he could sell to the government. He earned a ten dollars and spent
only five to buy food. He lived in a hut which he built on the mountain side and was a very lonely person. He lived
a sad life for his face was severely scarred from a fire which killed his family. No one would look at him because
he was so grotesquely scarred and because of this he kept very quiet and avoided people when he could. His main
goal in life was to save enough money to fix his face so he could live a normal life.
Now there was a orphan who lived in the streets every day. His parents left him when he was only nine and because
of malnutrition the boy lost his sight. Every day the boy begged for food but the people beat him and he couldn't
even run away because he was blind. The old man saw the broken hearted boy and felt sympathy for him and took him
home. There he fed him, clothed him, and treated him like his own beloved son. The boy was joyful and was so grateful
to this person who treated him like a loving father. Years passed and one day he said "I'm sorry for being
so useless. I wish my eyes become better so I could help you work. You must be so beautiful and wonderful because
you took care of someone like me. Maybe one day I could see your wonderful face." The old man became silent
being too moved to say anything.
The next day he went to the hospital with the and asked the doctor privately how much it would cost for the surgery
to heal his face. The doctor told him around a thousand dollars. He asked again how much it would be to heal the
young boy's sight. The doctor said fifteen hundred dollars will do. He had saved up for ten years and had around
a little more than fifteen hundred. He went up to the young boy and said "after you receive your sight I can't
be with you, yet I shall always think of you. I want you to be happy and live a good life." After these words
he paid the doctor and the tired man left knowing he could never truly reveal himself to the one he loved so dearly.
After the surgery the boy could see again. He was filled with joy and wondered why he couldn't see the one he loved
so dearly. He left and started looking for a job and soon found one at a restaurant. He became a waiter there and
worked full time earning a good amount. The next day the old man came looking for metals to collect. He started
searching around the garbage can of the restaurant when the manager came to tell him to leave because he was scaring
the customers. The boy soon came to his side threatening the old man to leave also. The metal collector looked
at the boy and he smiled a warm smile at the boy and left not wanting the boy to see him cry his happy tears. Later
at the restaurant the manager said to the boy "what an ugly man". The boy's reply was" I know, I
hope I never see him again."
When I wrote this I wanted people to feel something in their hearts. I wanted them to be moved and say "hey
this isn't right, the old man shouldn't have to suffer like that." It's like how Jesus loves us though. He
does so much for us and yet he we don't care for his existence. Imagine how that old man must be feeling. We're
like that boy and that old man who loves us so much is Jesus. He is ever faithful and is an all loving God. I pray
that this will help you understand the love of God a little better.
Have you ever, in a split second of time, watched parts of your life flash before your eyes? To the best of
my knowledge this happens only during times of great stress and danger. It would seem at first that you have seen
all of your life fly by in that instant and yet on closer examination you will see that it was a few select portions.
This has happened only a few times to me, but the last time was the most memorable.
We sought to trap him you see, we were looking for ways to accuse him for he was a danger to us. I think most of
us hated him because the people no longer looked to us for guidance, lately I've been wondering if they ever had.
Hindsight tells me they feared us rather than respected us but we were so full of ourselves, we couldn't see it
the way it truly was. Not only was he smart, he was also compassionate and that compassion took the sting out of
sharp words. For example, when he saw through our attempts to trap him and our own words were as rebuke to us,
within that rebuke was the power to heal. Sharp words served with mercy and love and the ability to heal. We refused
the healing and his love, our only wish was to see him defeated, dead and gone. What a glorious day that will be,
then things will return to normal we told each other. Then they will respect us again, how little we knew about
the power this man possessed, nor the power of the coming Holy Spirit.
Catching the woman in adultery was easy, in fact we had know about her activity for some time, we were saving her
until her act could be turned to our advantage. We thought surely this will leave him no path of escape, no way
to turn this around, how little we knew. It was agreed that if he approved of stoning her the people would see
his compassion was as phony as our religious ways. If he were to let her off we could condemn him for violating
the law. A neat package, or so we believed.
He wouldn't respond to us, I saw him bent and writing in the sand and I had a sinking feeling inside, for I knew
of his cleverness. A few of the ones close to where he was writing had quietly left. Not again I thought, not this
time, too. One by one they left and then I was close to him, he still hadn't said a word. I looked to where his
attention was directed and then I saw the vision. All my secretly hidden nasty deeds, my blackest moments, my deceptions,
my hate, all there for me to see. I was sickened by myself. I quietly walked until I was out of sight and then
I ran, ran away from me.
For the first time I saw me with all the illusions stripped away. I came face to face with my pompous self, what
an ugly sight. When my body could run no further I sank to the ground and sobbed in pity for myself and what I
had become. When the others and I met in the future I could not bear to spend time with them. I never talked with
them about that day but I could see they were unchanged. I knew their hearts were hardened. I do not understand
why mine has softened but I am grateful it has.
My life was forever changed by the vision I saw that day. For a time all I could think about was my ugliness, my
hypocrisy. The only thing that saved me from suicide was the compassion of Jesus. I was drawn to his love and forgiveness
like a moth to a flame. I knew only he could save me from me and I marveled that he did. I started following him
and really listening to him and bit by bit I changed. The ones who walked with him from the beginning were wary
of me but Jesus accepted be and treated me just as he did each of them. One day he asked me to go into the hills
and pray with him. I was honored and accepted the offer immediately. As we walked the path up the hill he said,
"you know you have to let it go." I knew what he meant but I lacked the ability or understanding to accomplish
the task. "How, Lord?" I asked. "It is easier than you think, you were made with the ability to
control your thoughts, all you need to do is think my thoughts. My thoughts are higher than your thoughts and will
carry you if you let them." He went on to explain that God doesn't remember confessed sin therefore it no
longer existed. If it didn't exist I had no right to think about it. What a change came over me, a glorious release
and freedom encompassed me. I am so grateful for the day I met myself in a vision and the day I came to know the
one true God.
He has gone now, many of us watched him rise into the sky and then he was no more, but that was the start of a
new phase for us. Soon the Holy Ghost came and filled our hearts, we started praying in unknown tongues and the
power began to flow like never before. I now spend my time letting the Holy Spirit do the talking as I move in
his power. I was bathing in a pond the other day and happened to see my reflection, at first I wasn't sure it was
me. All the tension has left, all the meanness. I introduced me to me and you know, I like me this way.
Come with us will you? Come meet the holy one and walk with us, if you do your life will never be the same. We
will wait up the road until just after first light. How we would love, how the Lord would love to have you along.
Come, will you?
I wait in the valley of swirling fog, listening beyond the nuisance of my mind and body for the conductor of
the grand symphony. It is not that he is hard to find or that he is hiding, it's just that my stuff is between
us and I am trying to listen beyond all my stuff. Do you have a lot of stuff, too?
The place beyond is the place that I write from, the place that I am to dwell in until my Lord comes, and yet~
And yet for some reason I at times forget and then I awaken and find myself out here. It's not that I mind the
fog, it has a certain amount of comfort and solitude, even charm. It's that the Lord is pulling on my heart, He
is always doing that, trying to pull me back home where I belong.
Glory is much better than fog and I know that I should go, but there is so much stuff out here that vies for my
attention. I get quiet and listen and catch the note that comes from my Father's heart. I start to lift and soar
and then I realize that now I am a few weeks down the road and I wonder what happened? One moment I'll be riding
a holy note and then a few weeks are gone. I don't know where the time has gone but the fog is always easy enough
to find.
Beyond the valley of my stuff and over the mountain of clarity is the place that I am called to. I call it the
valley of the poet. You may put your own name on it if you like. Some people think that valleys are bad places
to be, they are wrong. In my valley, the first thing you notice is the stillness. You can listen and when you get
good at it, you can hear the Holy Spirit. You can walk with God in the cool of the day. You can hear an icicle
fall from the overhang of a rock up in the mountains if you focus your attention properly.
I can walk on the wind here, have you ever done that? God taught me the technique and it is not nearly as hard
as you would think. I couldn't explain it to you with earthly words but if you would care to stop by, I can show
you how. Time and space have no meaning here and as a matter of fact, if you try to find the meaning you will get
sucked back into the valley of fog.
You can see thousands of years here when you care to look. For example, you can see and walk with Jesus if you
want. I enjoy everything but the cross, it hurts to much too watch my Lord suffer. I like to move beyond that to
when he was caught up into heaven. That is where we are you know, part of the body seated with Christ. Let me ask
you this, do you walk through your days acting like you have all power and dominion over every circumstance? Not
many do.
I watched Enoch until he was no longer visible, he got kind of fuzzy and transparent and then he was no more. He
just winked out of existence in the physical world. You can see anything that is in the Bible here as long as you
take the time to meditate on it. Meditation seems to be a lost art in these days when the church wants to microwave
their miracle. Every good thing is worth waiting for. If a sower of natural seed can sow a hundredfold, how much
more so the sower of spiritual seed?
We have all the garden space you could ever want here in the valley. You can grow any vision or dream that you
can imagine here, any dream that God puts on your heart. The only rule is that the soil will only work with Godly
seed, but I'm sure you knew that. I believe that Jesus was talking of this place when he taught about doing the
works that he did and greater works. I could be wrong, but I don't think so.
I have never seen another person from my time here in the valley. I haven't thought to ask God about that yet,
most likely because I'm not that interested in things like that when I am in His presence. If you stop by and care
to, you could ask him, but I know once you get surrounded by his glory, you will forget about stuff like that.
God likes to love on you so before you know it a year or two has gone by. If you think some of the earthly things
you see are beautiful, wait 'til you see the Lord! I think that the music comes from around his hair but I'm not
sure. When I ask him about that he just smiles and loves on me. I think one of these days I will just stay here
forever.
I have been absorbed into a few sunrises and sunsets here and lost for days. One of the seasons here is called
the season of rises and sets. During this season there is nothing in-between and you never get hungry. Jesus sits
next to me during this season and he talks and I listen, his words are more beautiful than the colors of the dawn
and dusk, can you picture that? Can you envision endless love? I often reach out and hold his hand and I wonder
where you are. I think Jesus wonders the same thing but I'm too caught up in him to ask.
God comes by at times like this and sets the ocean in front of us. We sit there and watch the colors of a rise
or set and the rolling ocean and we listen. Minutes and hours and days and weeks. I'm glad I have two hands at
a time like this. The Holy Spirit somehow weaves the four of us all together, we have plenty of room, if you don't
have anything better to do, please come on by. Oh, I know you are busy with the worldly things that so control
your life. I know the demands on your time and all about your busyness, all about it, my friend. Many of you are
busy with church things, so busy going to this and that meeting and doing this and that and yet you have this hunger
to really know God. When will you take the time?
Would you come and visit for a while? It's just out of the valley of the fog and over the mountain of clarity.
As soon as you step over the mountain you will just drift to where you should be. The Holy Spirit will see to that.
I hope to see you soon. You can usually find me by down by the ocean, I'll be the one in the middle.
As I walked home one freezing day, I stumbled on a wallet someone had lost in the street. I picked it up and
looked inside to find some identification so I could call the owner. But the wallet contained only three dollars
and a crumpled letter that looked as if it had been in there for years.
The envelope was worn and the only thing that was legible on it was the return address. I started to open the letter,
hoping to find some clue. Then I saw the dateline--1924. The letter had been written almost sixty years ago.
It was written in a beautiful feminine handwriting on powder blue stationery with a little flower in the left-hand
corner. It was a "Dear John" letter that told the recipient, whose name appeared to be Michael, that
the writer could not see him any more because her mother forbade it. Even so, she wrote that she would always love
him.
It was signed, Hannah.
It was a beautiful letter, but there was no way except for the name Michael, that the owner could be identified.
Maybe if I called information, the operator could find a phone listing for the address on the envelope.
"Operator," I began, "this is an unusual request. I'm trying to find the owner of a wallet that
I found. Is there anyway you can tell me if there is a phone number for an address that was on an envelope in the
wallet?"
She suggested I speak with her supervisor, who hesitated for a moment then said, "Well, there is a phone listing
at that address, but I can't give you the number." She said, as a courtesy, she would call that number, explain
my story and would ask them if they wanted her to connect me. I waited a few minutes and then she was back on the
line. "I have a party who will speak with you."
I asked the woman on the other end of the line if she knew anyone by the name of Hannah. She gasped, "Oh!
We bought this house from a family who had a daughter named Hannah. But that was 30 years ago!"
"Would you know where that family could be located now?" I asked.
"I remember that Hannah had to place her mother in a nursing home some years ago," the woman said. "Maybe
if you got in touch with them they might be able to track down the daughter."
She gave me the name of the nursing home and I called the number. They told me the old lady had passed away some
years ago but they did have a phone number for where they thought the daughter might be living.
I thanked them and phoned. The woman who answered explained that Hannah herself was now living in a nursing home.
This whole thing was stupid, I thought to myself. Why was I making such a big deal over finding the owner of a
wallet that had only three dollars and a letter that was almost 60 years old?
Nevertheless, I called the nursing home in which Hannah was supposed to be living and the man who answered the
phone told me, "Yes, Hannah is staying with us. "
Even though it was already 9 p.m., I asked if I could come by to see her. "Well," he said hesitatingly,
"if you want to take a chance, she might be in the day room watching television."
I thanked him and drove over to the nursing home. The night nurse and a guard greeted me at the door. We went up
to the third floor of the large building. In the day room, the nurse introduced me to Hannah.
She was a sweet, silver-haired old timer with a warm smile and a twinkle in her eye.
I told her about finding the wallet and showed her the letter. The second she saw the powder blue envelope with
that little flower on the left, she took a deep breath and said, "Young man, this letter was the last contact
I ever had with Michael."
She looked away for a moment deep in thought and then said Softly, "I loved him very much. But I was only
16 at the time and my mother felt I was too young. Oh, he was so handsome. He looked like Sean Connery, the actor."
"Yes," she continued. "Michael Goldstein was a wonderful person. If you should find him, tell him
I think of him often. And," she hesitated for a moment, almost biting her lip, "tell him I still love
him. You know," she said smiling as tears began to well up in her eyes, "I never did marry. I guess no
one ever matched up to Michael..."
I thanked Hannah and said goodbye. I took the elevator to the first floor and as I stood by the door, the guard
there asked, "Was the old lady able to help you?"
I told him she had given me a lead. "At least I have a last name. But I think I'll let it go for a while.
I spent almost the whole day trying to find the owner of this wallet."
I had taken out the wallet, which was a simple brown leather case with red lacing on the side. When the guard saw
it, he said, "Hey, wait a minute! That's Mr. Goldstein's wallet. I'd know it anywhere with that right red
lacing. He's always losing that wallet. I must have found it in the halls at least three times."
"Who's Mr. Goldstein?" I asked as my hand began to shake.
"He's one of the old timers on the 8th floor. That's Mike Goldstein's wallet for sure. He must have lost it
on one of his walks."
I thanked the guard and quickly ran back to the nurse's office. I told her what the guard had said. We went back
to the elevator and got on. I prayed that Mr. Goldstein would be up.
On the eighth floor, the floor nurse said, "I think he's still in the day room. He likes to read at night.
He's a darling old man."
We went to the only room that had any lights on and there was a man reading a book. The nurse went over to him
and asked if he had lost his wallet. Mr. Goldstein looked up with surprise, put his hand in his back pocket and
said, "Oh, it is missing!"
"This kind gentleman found a wallet and we wondered if it could be yours?"
I handed Mr. Goldstein the wallet and the second he saw it, he smiled with relief and said, "Yes, that's it!
It must have dropped out of my pocket this afternoon. I want to give you a reward."
"No, thank you," I said. "But I have to tell you something. I read the letter in the hope of finding
out who owned the wallet."
The smile on his face suddenly disappeared. "You read that letter?"
"Not only did I read it, I think I know where Hannah is."
He suddenly grew pale. "Hannah? You know where she is? How is she? Is she still as pretty as she was? Please,
please tell me," he begged.
"She's fine...just as pretty as when you knew her." I said softly.
The old man smiled with anticipation and asked, "Could you tell me where she is? I want to call her tomorrow."
He grabbed my hand and said, "You know something, mister, I was so in love with that girl that when that letter
came, my life literally ended. I never married. I guess I've always loved her. "
"Mr. Goldstein," I said, "Come with me."
We took the elevator down to the third floor. The hallways were darkened and only one or two little night-lights
lit our way to the day room where Hannah was sitting alone watching the television. The nurse walked over to her.
"Hannah," she said softly, pointing to Michael, who was waiting with me in the doorway. "Do you
know this man?"
She adjusted her glasses, looked for a moment, but didn't say a word. Michael said softly, almost in a whisper,
"Hannah, it's Michael. Do you remember me?"
She gasped, "Michael! I don't believe it! Michael! It's you! My Michael!" He walked slowly towards her
and they embraced. The nurse and I left with tears streaming down our faces.
"See," I said. "See how the Good Lord works! If it's meant to be, it will be."
About three weeks later I got a call at my office from the nursing home. "Can you break away on Sunday to
attend a wedding? Michael and Hannah are going to tie the knot!"
It was a beautiful wedding with all the people at the nursing home dressed up to join in the celebration. Hannah
wore a light beige dress and looked beautiful. Michael wore a dark blue suit and stood tall. They made me their
best man.
The hospital gave them their own room and if you ever wanted to see a 76-year-old bride and a 79-year-old groom
acting like two teenagers, you had to see this couple.
A perfect ending for a love affair that had lasted nearly 60 years.
What are a Few Stones to God?
by Pat Worrell
Stoned, dragged out of the city and left for dead and what did he do? Let's examine what he didn't do first.
He didn't round up all of his Christian friends and pray, (yes your
words are prayers) about how unfair life is. He didn't blame God (murmur) for getting him into another pickle.
He didn't go to the doctor and find out what all was wrong so he could pray intelligently about the situation.
He didn't have the disciples get a stretcher carry him back to the city. And most importantly, he didn't give up
and die.
Have you ever imagined what it would be like to be stoned, imagined the stones hitting your head, chest, arms,
legs? Can you stretch your imagination to think of the pain involved as the barrage continues and you have no avenue
of escape? It was thought he was dead or would soon die so they left him. The Bible tells us that the disciples
gathered around him and he got up and went back into the city, the next day he departed on a trip.
We look at the book of Acts and we marvel at the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and yet He lives today in the same
power in the temple. If you are born again you are the temple. Why do you think they called it the book of Acts?
What did the disciples do but act on the Word. Do you suppose Paul felt like getting up and walking back to the
city? My best guess would be no, he probably wanted to crawl in hole and curl up in a ball until he either died
or got well, instead he "acted" on the Word and believed he was healed.
Paul later on in his life called this and many other incidents 'light afflictions' which leads me to this question,
how can anything we face possibly be worse than stoned and left for dead? We get a bad report from the doctor and
we believe it rather than the Word that says by Jesus wounds we have been healed. Death was imminent and yet Paul
got up and went back into the very city he was dragged out of. How can this be? Paul refused to not only believe
the report but just as importantly he acted on the Word.
Paul was once bitten by a poisonous snake and he shook it off and went about his business. We read this almost
in awe but it is precisely what we are told to do in the Bible. Do you suppose we would see more power flow if
we were obedient to the Word? Fear not, only believe, Jesus told Jairus and his daughter was dead. How much worse
can you get than dead? OK, she is dead and Jesus said don't be afraid, only believe. Jesus wouldn't have told Jairus
this of he wasn't capable of doing it. Your daughter is dead but
don't worry about it, just believe. Believe what?
So tell me, what is your little deal, you know the one, the bad report or the seemingly insurmountable circumstance.
Get it out here in the open so we can compare it with the
Bible. Have you been left for dead, or are you already dead? Well, praise God, I have good news for you! The Holy
Spirit will quicken your body if you only believe. In Romans 8:11 God tells you this, go and look. So how do you
get to that point where you move from a fact person to a faith person?
First of all you have to find scripture for what you need to appropriate from God. You don't have to ask God to
heal you, the Word says in 1 Peter 2:24 and many other places
He has already healed you. You need to fear not and believe. I don't believe you can die meditating and speaking
God's Word. Oh, I know we have all heard those stories about this or that person that believed God and died but
if that was true God would be a liar. I have good news, God is not a liar. Listen, it is not a crime to die and
go home to Jesus, as a matter of fact we will all die. It is a sin to change the word of God to fit the "facts".
If you put God's Word into your thoughts instead of worry or fear you will have faith. You are the only one who
controls what you think and as you think in your heart so are you. As you put God's Word in your mouth it will
get in your heart, God said so. He said, "Faith comes by hearing and hearing by the Word of God." You
have the same Holy Spirit that Paul had and you have the same measure of faith as any Christian that has ever the
earth. God gave every man the same measure of faith but it is our responsibility to develop it.
So I have good news for you, if you are laying on the road, stoned and left for dead and someone walks by and gives
you a copy of this, get up! In all likelihood you are not going to see the manifestation of your healing until
you act healed. Put these simple Biblical principles into practice and get on with your life. How long will it
take? It will take as long as it takes but if you stand fast you cannot be defeated. God tells us when we have
done all we can to stand, we are to stand.
No one else can believe for you, no one else can control your thoughts and your actions. Your destiny is entirely
in your hands. I expect to hear a praise report from you soon.
Jay was an athlete everybody liked--friendly, gentle and easy going. But on the mat, this lightweight wrestler
delivered a different message. He was strong, quick and determined. These active ingredients made him a state championship
contender, until one night ...
In the last period of a match that he dominated, he seemed to lose his grip, then his speed, then his strength.
With a minute to go he was winning 15-5. A few seconds later he was pinned. Disgusted with himself, he headed straight
for the locker room. I followed him, hoping to console him.
I got to know Jay, not only because my son was on the wrestling team, but also because he had once visited our
teen Bible study. He had the attitude that he could do it all by himself--whether it was get to the state finals
or get to heaven. He didn't see the need for any help.
Some of the wrestlers had talked to him about the way of salvation, that he couldn't get to heaven without accepting
Jesus Christ as his Savior. His coach told him he would never win the spiritual wrestling match, no matter how
good he was or how hard he worked, because "we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities,
against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly
places" Ephesians 6:12 NKJV.
Did he hear the message of the Bible? His team mates were sure he did. They told him what 1 Corinthians 15:54-57
says about Christ as his Savior and heaven-sent Victor in the battle over sin and death:
"Death is swallowed up in victory ... The sting of death is sin ... But thanks be to God, who gives us the
victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."
Did he listen and act on what he heard? We don't know. You see, that evening when I followed Jay into the locker
room to console him, he collapsed in my arms without saying a word, and went into a coma caused by a brain hemorrhage.
He died the next day.
Are you wrestling life's battles all by yourself? Do you think you can conquer sin and death without God's help?
Jay couldn't, and you can't either. His teammates loved him enough to show him the only move that would beat the
enemy--the move to Christ. His coach showed him how to "win the match" of eternity. Did Jay listen? I
hope so, but I don't know. He died without telling anyone whether or not he had accepted Christ as his Savior.
How about you? You've just heard the message. You are still alive. Do you recognize that you are losing the "wrestling
match" against sin? Do you know that the inevitable result of sin is eternal separation from God? Do you realize
that you cannot win without divine help? Will you accept Jesus as your Savior before it is too late?
The choice is yours. "But as many as received Him, to them He gave the right to become children
of God"John 1:12. Choose Christ now, then tell a friend about your decision.
Where Are Your Priorities?
author unknown
Funny how $10 looks so big when we take it to church and so small when we
take it to the store.
Funny how big an hour serving God looks and how small 60 minutes are when
spent playing golf, fishing or playing bridge.
Funny how laborious it is to read a chapter in the Bible and how easy it
is to read 2-300 pages of a best selling novel.
Funny how we believe what newspapers say, but question what the Bible
says.
Funny how we can't think of anything to say when we pray and don't have
any difficulty thinking of things to talk about to a friend.
Funny how we need 2 or 3 weeks to fit a church event into our schedule,
but can adjust it for a social event at the last minute.
Funny isn't it?
Why Should I?
author unknown
Why should I say I can't when the Bible says I can do all things through Christ who gives me Strength? Phil 4:13
Why should I lack anything when I know that God shall supply all my needs according to His riches and glory in Christ Jesus? Phil 4:19
Why should I fear when the Bible says God has not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind? 2 Tim 1:7
Why should I lack faith to fulfill my calling knowing that God has allotted to me a measure of faith"? Rom 12:3
Why should I be weak when the Bible says that the Lord is the strength of my life and that I will display strength and take action because I know God? Psa 27:1, Dan 11:32?
Why should I allow Satan's supremacy over my life when He that is in me is greater then he that is in the world"? 1 John 4:4
Why should I lack wisdom when Christ became wisdom to me from God and God gives wisdom to me generously when I ask Him for it? 1Cor 1:30, James 1:5
Why should I accept defeat when the Bible says that God always lead me in triumph? 2 Cor 2:14
Why should I be depressed when I can recall to mind God's loving kindness, compassion, and faithfulness and have hope? Lam 3:21-23
Why should I worry and fret when I can cast all my anxiety on Christ who cares for me? 1Pet 5:7
Why should I ever be in bondage knowing that there is liberty where the Spirit of the Lord is? Gal 5:1
Why should I feel condemned when the Bible says I am not condemned because I am in Christ? Rom 8:1
Why should I feel alone when Jesus said He is with me always and He will never leave me nor forsake me? Matt 28:20, Heb 13:5
Why should I feel accursed or that I am the victim of bad luck when the Bible says that Christ redeemed me from the curse of the law that I might receive the Holy Spirit? Gal 3:13,14
Why should I be discontented when I, like Paul can learn to be content in all my circumstances? Phil 4:11
Why should I feel worthless when Christ became sin on my behalf that I might become the righteousness of God in Him? 2 Cor 5:21
Why should I have a persecution complex knowing that nobody can be against me when God is for me? Rom 8:31
Why should I be confused when God is the author of peace and he gives me knowledge through His in dwelling Spirit? 1 Cor 14:33, 2:12
Why should I feel like a failure when I am a conqueror in all things through Christ? Rom 8:37
Why should I let the pressures of life bother me when I can take courage knowing that Jesus has overcome the world and its tribulations? John 16:33
The Window
author unknown
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an
hour a day to drain the fluids from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to
spend all his time flat on his back.
The men talked for hours on ends. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement
in the military service, where they had been on vacation. And every afternoon when the man in the bed next to the
window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the
window.
The man in the other bed would live for those one hour periods where his world would be
broadened and enliven by all the activity and colour of the outside world.
The windows overlooked a park with a lovely lake, the man had said. Ducks and swans played on the water while children
sailed their model boats. Lovers walked arm in arm amid flowers of every colour of the rainbow.Grand old trees
graced the landscape,and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the windrow
described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine
the picturesque scene.
One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the
band, he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Unexpectedly,
an alien thought entered his head: Why should he have all the pleasure of seeing everything while i never get to
see anything?
It didn't seem fair. As the thought fermented, the man felt ashamed at first. But as the days passed and he missed
seeing more sights, his envy eroded into resentment and soon turned him sour.He began to brood and found himself
unable to sleep. He should be by that window - and that thought now controlled his life.
Late one night as he lay staring at the ceiling, the man by the window began to cough. He was choking on the fluid
in his lungs. The other man watched in the dimly lit room as the struggling man by the window groped for the button
to call for help. Listening from across the room, he never moved, never pushed his own button which would have
brought the nurse running. In less than five minutes, the coughing and choking stopped, along with the sound of
breathing. Now, there was only silence ---deathly silence.
The following morning the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths. When she found the lifeless of the
man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendant to take it away -- no works no fuss. As soon
as it seemed appropriate, the man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the
switch and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up one
elbow to take his first look. Finally, he would have the joy of seeing it all himself. He strained to slowly turn
to look out the window beside the bed.
It faced a blank wall.
Would I But Have The Strength To Love
by Ian Arbuckle
I gazed out the window, a slight smile touching my lips. I looked at the beautiful wilderness where I had secluded
myself. Trees towered majestic and dark green over small, bubbling brooks. The emerald ground-covering was interrupted
here and there by large gray rocks. Off in the distance a mountain rose up into the heavens, a mountain I knew
too well. A mountain I had run from.
The strange thing about this secluded spot was that there was no wildlife. Not one solitary bird or beast. But
I liked it that way. That way I couldn't mess up and hurt someone accidentally. That was always a problem before
I had exiled myself. Just walking down the many paths that criss-crossed my land I hurt numerous small creatures.
Just by stating my mind I had killed hundreds more. That's why I had built this fortress far away from everything
I am. Everything that I hate.
A voice startled me from my reverie. It didn't come from anywhere I could see. It was a familiar voice, one that
I ignored often. It said,
"Young one, why do you fear love?"
I thought for a long time. I knew the One behind the voice would always be there to hear my reply. Eventually I
responded.
"I do not fear love. I fear myself."
I slowly paced around my dining room as I waited for the voice to respond. Absently I noticed that one of the large
shuttered windows was open a crack. The voice spoke again,
"You fear yourself? But then why did you seclude yourself from others. Why didn't you build a fortress inside
of you, rather than on the outside?"
A good question. His often were. I sat down at the long, hardwood table and cupped my head in my hands, trying
to think clearly.
"I do not fear love," I said simply, trying to hang on to something I thought was true.
"If that is the case," said the voice. "Then I present you with a challenge."
From around a corner stepped the one I thought I loved. She stood radiant even in the faded sunlight, erect and
proud. She walked gracefully around the table until she was at the same end as I, standing just to the side of
me. Then around the corner stepped an abomination. Its hideous face struck me with terror, as did the litheness
in its step, as if it were a serpent. In its hand was an evil-looking weapon. It raised the weapon and fired quickly.
"No!" I shouted, but did not move. The bullet struck the one I thought I loved and sent her to the floor,
crying. Saying sadly,
"Why did you not save me, Ian? Why?"
Then she was no more. And the serpent man also was no more. I felt as if my life was entirely in vain at that point.
I slumped in my chair and ran the event back through my mind again and again, trying to find out what the One with
the voice was trying to tell me. Quietly, the voice spoke,
"Do you understand?"
I shook my head. In my mind, I could almost envision the One smiling sadly.
"I had hoped you would. Please think, my son. You deserve more than seclusion."
I knew the One hadn't left, but the voice did. I stayed like that, bent in the chair, my head lying on the cold
surface of the dinner table. I debated with myself over what I should've done to save the one who I thought I loved.
Had I thrown myself in front of the bullet it would be me who did not exist, rather than she. Would that have been
better? I didn't know.
Slowly, through tears that had come from deep in my thought, I noticed a scene that was playing out on the wall
of the dining room that was facing me. I saw a man who looked vaguely familiar carrying a large wooden cross down
a busy street. I saw men and women pass him by on their way to their various tasks. I saw an old man spit at him.
Then I saw a child step out into the street. The child was a horrible visage. The shirt on his back carried emblems
and symbols proclaiming death and destruction. With smug satisfaction I noted that death and destruction would
abound in his life very shortly. A large truck was barreling towards him. Then the one who was bearing the cross
threw it down and charged out into the street, throwing the youth aside and taking the crushing blow himself.
I sat stunned for what must have been hours. The voice returned, then.
"Have you seen what I have done for the least of your fellows? But wait, no one is least among you who walk
in the world I have made. Know this now, child… that is love. To be willing to give up your life for anyone. To
use your life for anyone. You must do this! I do not give you orders often, young one. But you must love. And if
you search yourself you will find you are not afraid of yourself, but of losing yourself. Of loving. Learn and
live, I am with you."
The voice faded. The One did not. I left the fortress then and walked towards the mountain I knew so well. At the
foot was the one I thought I loved. I smiled to see her alive and well, but my smile faded as I saw the serpent-man
again. He raised his weapon and fired. I charged towards the one I thought I loved and pushed her gently aside
as the bullet screamed towards us. With a small smile I received the bullet in my heart. I fell, grinning and laughed
as light filled my eyes and the face of the One with the voice smiled at me. I stood again and walked with the
one I loved towards the village.
copyright 1998,99 Ian Arbuckle
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