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"Thank You"
SHARED STORIES
There is a lot in here
If your computer asks you
if you want to stop running the script, say YES
You will still be able to read it all, but quicker, hopefully
I will be splitting it up, into a few rooms, soon.
Thank you for your patience.
Water Pots
A water bearer in India had two large pots,
each hung on the ends of a pole
which he carried across his shoulders.
One of the pots had a crack in it,
while the other pot was perfect
and always delivered a full portion of water.
At the end of the long walk
from the stream to the house,
the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily,
with the bearer delivering
only one and a half pots
full of water to his house.
Of course, the perfect pot was perfect
for the task for which it was made,
and, proud of its accomplishments.
But the poor cracked pot was ashamed
of its own imperfection,
and, miserable that it was able
to accomplish only half
of what it had been made to do.
After two years of what it perceived
to be a bitter failure,
it spoke to the water bearer
one day by the stream.
"I am ashamed of myself,
and I want to apologize to you.
I have been able to deliver
only half my load
because this crack in my side
causes water to leak out
all the way back to your house.
And, because of my flaws,
you have to do all of this work,
and you don't get full value
from your efforts," the pot said.
The bearer said to the pot,
"Did you notice
that there were flowers
only on your side of the path,
but not on the other pot's side?"
That's because
I have always known about your flaw,
and I planted All Kinds Of Fruit Seeds,
Vegetable Seeds and Seeds to grow Nuts
I also threw cactus seeds
So that there would always be water
In case water was needed,
that was stored in each cactus plant,
Plus, all kinds of flower seeds
on your side of the path,
and, every day while we walked back,
you've watered them.
For years now,
We always had free food to eat,
Along the very long path home,
Plenty to drink, when we were thirsty,
And, I have been able to pick
The most beautiful flowers
to decorate the king's table.
Without your being just the way you are,
there would not be this beauty
to grace the house.
And, we never would have survived,
so many journeys!
Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws.
We're all cracked pots.
But it's the cracks and flaws we each have
that make our lives together
interesting, helpful and rewarding.
You've just got to take people
for what they are,
and, look for the good in them.
Blessed are the flexible,
for they shall not be bent out of shape.
Please remember to appreciate
all the different people in your life!
As for me...
I am so thankful for all my crackpot friends!
Author Unknown
GIVING
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 Down Syndrome.
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-wheeler 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 dreaded "truck stop germ";
the pairs of white shirted business men
on expense 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
wrapped 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 and 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 public housing two miles from the truck stop.
Their Social worker, which 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
nd Stevie being sent to a group home.
That's why the restaurant
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 into 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
that he was out of surgery,
in recovery and doing fine.
Frannie, head waitress,
let out a war hoop
and did a little dance
in the aisle when she heard the good news.
Belle Ringer, one of our regular truckers,
stared at the sight
of the 50-year-old grandmother of four
doing a victory shimmy beside his 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 okay."
"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 their bills.
From what I hear,
they're barely 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
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 tucked 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 about Stevie and his Mom
and everything, and Pete looked at Tony
and Tony looked at Pete,
and they ended up giving me this."
She handed me another paper napkin
that had "Something For 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 worker 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
or that his job was in jeopardy.
I arranged to have his mother
bring him to work.
And, met them in the parking lot
I 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 corner booth
at the rear of the room.
I could feel and hear the rest of the staff
following behind
as we marched through the dining room.
Glancing over my shoulder,
I saw booth after booth of grinning
truckers empty 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 onto 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 big, big smile on his face,
was busy clearing
all the cups and dishes from the table.
All I can say now,
is that Stevie Is The Best worker, I ever hired!
Plant a seed and watch it grow.
At this point, you can bury
this inspirational message
or forward it to fulfill an honorable need!
If you shed a tear, hug yourself
because you are a compassionate person.
WELL...DON'T JUST SIT THERE... SHARE THIS STORY!
AND, THIS WEBSIITE!
When you're lonely, I wish you LOVE
When you're down, I wish you JOY.
When things get complicated, I wish you FAITH.
When things look empty, I wish you HOPE.
Shared by: Rev. Phyllis Angel Banner
The Wreck On Highway 109
A drunk man in an Oldsmobile
they said had run the light
that caused the six-car pileup
on 109 that night.
When broken bodies lay about
and blood was everywhere,
the sirens screamed out elegies,
for death was in the air.
A mother, trapped inside her car,
was heard above the noise;
her plaintive plea near split the air:
"Oh, God, please spare my boys!"
She fought to loose her pinioned hands;
she struggled to get free,
but mangled metal held her fast
in grim captivity.
Her frightened eyes then focused on
where the back seat once had been,
but all she saw was broken glass
and two children’s seats crushed in.
Her twins were nowhere to be seen;
she did not hear them cry,
and then she prayed they’d been thrown free,
"Oh, God, don’t let them die!"
Then firemen came and cut her loose,
but when they searched the back,
they found therein no little boys,
but the seat belts were intact.
They thought the woman had gone mad
and was traveling alone,
but when they turned to question her,
they discovered she was gone.
Policemen saw her running wild
and screaming above the noise
in beseeching supplication,
"Please help me find my boys!
They’re four years old and wear blue shirts;
their jeans are blue to match."
One cop spoke up, "They’re in my car,
and they don’t have a scratch.
They said their daddy put them there
and gave them each a cone,
then told them both to wait for Mom
to come and take them home.
I’ve searched the area high and low,
but I can’t find their dad.
He must have fled the scene, I guess,
and that is very bad."
The mother hugged the twins and said,
while wiping at a tear,
"He could not flee the scene, you see,
for he’s been dead a year."
The cop just looked confused and asked,
"Now, how can that be true?"
The boys said, "Mommy, Daddy came
and left a kiss for you.
He told us not to worry
and that you would be all right,
and then he put us in this car
with the pretty, flashing light.
We wanted him to stay with us,
because we miss him so,
but Mommy, he just hugged us tight
and said he had to go.
He said someday we’d understand
and told us not to fuss,
and he said to tell you, Mommy,
he’s watching over us."
The mother knew without a doubt
that what they spoke was true,
for she recalled their dad’s last words,
"I will watch over you."
The firemen’s notes could not explain
the twisted, mangled car,
and how the three of them escaped
without a single scar.
But on the cop’s report was scribed,
in print so very fine,
An angel walked the beat tonight
on Highway 109.
(Author Found!)
Copyright © 1999 Ruth Gillis
"The Wreck On Highway 109"
received a First Place Award
in the April 1999 issue of Poet's Review
Here is the Link to Ruth's Wonderful Site
The Wreck On Highway 109
learning from nature
i saw a group of inca doves(about 50 birds)
eating on the ground feeding their young
and just living their lives.
suddenly an american kestral appeared.
the inca doves scurried in 50 different directions
while the kestral caught one of the birds
and had a good meal.
that vicious hawk disappeared
and the inca doves resumed activities as before.
i am shocked by the attrocious act of violence
killing thousands of innocent lives.
i will not change my life style.
that is what our enemies would like us to do.
i will continue to write poetry.
i will continue to take bird pictures
and exhibit them for the public.
i think this is what god would like me to do.
those vicious terrorists
are not going to stop me from being me.
i am a brave inca dove.
kestral you have a fight on your hands.
© 2001 marvin d goldfarb (All rights reserved)
SIMPLE PHILOSOPHY
The more we give
The more we get
The more we do unselfishly
The more we live abundantly
The more of everything we share
The more we laugh, the less we fret
The more we'll always have to spare
The more we love, the more we'll find
That life is good and friends are kind
For only what we give away
Enriches us from day to day
CHOICES
An old Grandfather, whose grandson came to him with
anger at a schoolmate who had done him an injustice,
said, "Let me tell you a story. I too, at times, have
felt a great hate for those that have taken so much,
with no sorrow for what they do. But hate wears you
down, and does not hurt your enemy. It is like taking
poison and wishing your enemy would die. I have
struggled with these feelings many times."
He continued, "It is as if there are two wolves
inside me; one is good and does no harm. He lives in
harmony with all around him and does not take offense
when no offense was intended. He will only fight when
it is right to do so, and in the right way."
"But the other wolf, ah! He is full of anger. The
littlest thing will set him into a fit of temper. He
fights everyone, all the time, for no reason. He
cannot think because his anger and hate are so
great. It is hard to live with these two wolves
inside me, for both of them try
to dominate my spirit."
The boy looked intently into his Grandfather's eyes
and asked, "Which one wins, Grandfather?"
The Grandfather solemnly said, "The one I feed."
DON'T WE ALL?
I was parked in front of the mall
wiping off my car. I had
just come from the car wash
and was waiting for my wife
to get out of work.
Coming my way from across the parking lot
was what society would consider a bum.
From the looks of him, he had no car, no home,
no clean clothes, and no money.
There are times when you feel generous
but there are other times
that you just don't want to be bothered.
This was one of those
"don't want to be bothered times."
"I hope he doesn't ask me for any money," I thought.
He didn't.
He came and sat on the curb
in front of the bus stop but
he didn't look like he could have enough money
to even ride the bus.
After a few minutes he spoke.
"That's a very pretty car," he said.
He was ragged
but he had an air of dignity around him.
His scraggly blond beard
keep more than his face warm.
I said, "Thanks,"
and continued wiping off my car.
He sat there quietly as I worked.
The expected plea for money never came.
As the silence between us widened
something inside said,
"Ask him if he needs any help."
I was sure that he would say "yes"
but I held true to the inner voice.
Do you need any help?" I asked.
He answered in three simple but profound words
that I shall never forget.
We often look for wisdom in great men and women.
We expect it from those
of higher learning and accomplishments.
I expected nothing
but an outstretched grimy hand.
He spoke the three words
that shook me.
"Don't we all?" he said.
I was feeling high and mighty,
successful and important,
above a bum in the street,
until those three words hit me like a
twelve gauge shotgun.
Don't we all?
I needed help.
Maybe not for bus fare or a place to sleep,
but I needed help.
I reached in my wallet
and gave him not only enough for bus fare,
but enough to get a warm meal
and shelter for the day.
Those three little words still ring true.
No matter how much you have,
no matter how much you have accomplished,
you need help too.
No matter how little you have,
no matter how loaded you are with problems,
even without money or a place to sleep,
you can give help.
Even if it's just a compliment,
you can give that.
You never know when you may see someone
that appears to have it all.
They are waiting on you
to give them what they don't have.
A different perspective on life,
a glimpse at something beautiful,
a respite from daily chaos,
that only you through a torn world can see.
Maybe the man was just a homeless
a stranger wandering the streets.
Maybe he was more than that.
Maybe he was sent by a power
that is great and wise,
to minister to a soul
too comfortable in themselves.
Maybe God looked down,
called an Angel, dressed him like a bum,
then said, "go minister
to that man cleaning the car,
that man needs help".
MOMENTS - (Haiku)Rev. Angel Banner
the after-math of the war
absorbed all the innocence
leaving a shocked world
our world was ended
and just like our after-birth
it was tossed away
through a long tunnel
i can hear myself screaming
in life's after-burner
the after-effect
turned out to be, a process
not the last, for sure
we are becoming
after all is said and done
wiser than before
© 2003 Rev. Angel Banner
GOD Makes The Potter's Jars
We are all each like "water bearers" in this World
With two large clay jars, each hung on the ends of a pole
Carried and balanced, across our shoulders.
One of our clay jars, usually, has a crack in it,
while the other clay jar, was perfect
Always delivering, a full portion of water.
At the end of the long journey
From the stream, to the house,
The cracked jar, arrived only half full.
For a years and years, this went on daily,
With the bearer delivering
Only one and a half jugs
Full of water, to The King's home.
Of course, the perfect jar was perfect
For the task, for which it was made,
And, proud of its accomplishments.
But, the poor cracked jar, was ashamed
Of its own imperfection,
And, miserable that it was able
To accomplish only half
Of what it had been made to do.
After two years, of what it perceived
To be a bitter failure,
It spoke to the water bearer
Lord Yeshua/Jesus,
One day, by the stream.
"I am ashamed of myself",
And, I want to apologize to you.
I have been able to deliver
Only half my load
Because this crack, in my side
Causes water to leak out
All the way back to your home.
And, because of my flaws,
You have to do, all of this work,
And, you don't even get full value
From your efforts," the jar said.
The bearer, Lord Yeshua / Jesus,
Said to the jar,
"Did you notice, that there were flowers
Only on your side of the path,
But not on the other jar's side?"
That's because
I have always known about your flaw,
And, I planted flower seeds
On your side of the path,
And, every day, while we walk back,
You've watered them.
And, for many years now,
I have been able to pick
These most beautiful flowers
To decorate the King's table.
Without your being, just the way you are,
There would not be this beauty
To grace the King's home.
Moral: Each of us has our own unique flaws.
In My Case, I guess I needed to be handicapped
And, even though it has been,
Extremely restricting and painful, Physically
I, instead of being influenced by the World
I stayed within and in touch,
through many hours of Prayer and Meditation
This website ended up being created to
Help Prepare The Way For The Return
Of Our Lord, Yeshua/Jesus!
Who, I truly met!
Read My Testimony Link, Above!
I have become not only sympathetic
I have become empathetic as well
And, Love To Help Others
To The Best Of What God Does, Through Me
I can accept My Flaws,
Because, it is the cracks and flaws
That we each have
That bring our lives together
For The Fullness Of What GOD Created
In us, for us and Through us, to do
In everything, we say and do!
While, Life becomes interesting, helpful and rewarding.
In God's Son's Name, Yeshua / Jesus
Amen and Amen!
The Bottom Line,
You've just got to take people
For what they are,
And, look for the good in them.
Blessed are the flexible,
For they shall not, be bent out of shape.
Please remember to appreciate
All the different people
That God, has sent to you
To be your teachers, in your life!
Clay Jars
"Fragile human beings who handle difficulty so differently
that people are attracted to them."
That is my definition of the Biblical reference
To jars of clay in the first century.
Those in palaces did not use clay jars for their valuables.
Oh, you would have found them in the kitchen and the outhouse.
For everything but the most ordinary functions,
they used gold, silver, other metals, and well cured ceramics.
Expensive liquids were not put into clay jars;
they were stored in expensive, sturdy containers.
In fact, it would be easy to be as impressed with the container
as it was with the contents inside. "What an impressive pitcher you have,"
you might have said as the hostess poured your drink.
Those were not ordinary clay pots presented to Jesus by the Magi,
as they worshipped Him with gold, frankincense and myrrh.
Those were expensive containers.
Clay jars in the first century were ordinary,
common, easily broken, often discarded.
They were used for carrying water
and other ordinary functions,
as trash containers, even as toilets and functional.
So it's terribly humbling
to realize that the Apostle Paul tells us,
"we are clay pots". Harshly unflattering.
It would not be so bad if he was talking
about our lives B.C. (before Christ),
but he's talking about after we have Christ in us.
What is that about? Look at this.
2 Corinthians 4:4-12 (NIV) "The god of this age
has blinded the minds of unbelievers,
so that they cannot see the light of the gospel
of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.
5 For we do not preach ourselves,
but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves
as your servants for Jesus' sake.
6 For God, who said, "Let light
shine out of darkness,"
made his light shine in our hearts
to give us the light of the knowledge
of the glory of God in the face of Christ.
7 But we have this treasure in jars of clay
to show that this all-surpassing power
is from God and not from us.
8 We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed;
perplexed, but not in despair;
9 persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.
10 We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus,
so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.
11 For we who are alive
are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake,
so that his life may be revealed in our mortal body.
12 So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you."
THE BOTTOM LINE:
God puts the unbelievable, inconceivable, unthinkable,
unimaginable, implausible treasure of the Universe
"the very Presence of the Almighty God of the Universe"
IN US! You'd think that would make us expensive containers.
Precious contents go in valuable containers -
that would make perfect human sense. But no.
He places this most precious treasure in "jars of clay.
" Why? So that others will see
And, experience the treasure of Christ
rather than being impressed with us.
Remember the earlier definition of clay jars?
Fragile human beings who handle difficulty
so differently that people are attracted to them.
What happens when a clay pot gets jostled around,
bumped, passed from one person to another,
or even cracked? The contents spill out.
Or in the Apostle Paul's words, what happens
when a fragile human being
who is filled with Christ is 'hard pressed'
perplexed'persecuted'struck down'faces death'
That person spills out the Presence of Christ
on all in the area, filling the place
with the aroma of Christ.
What happens if it is not jostled?
That treasure just sits there.
The jostling in our lives
is not because God has abandoned us at all.
It is because He believes in us
as His treasure holders who spill His Presence.
The Problem is that too often,
we whine when we're jostled,
spilling out stuff that does not look,
smell or taste like Christ
because we've never learned
or somehow forgotten, that we are clay jars
filled with Christ.
Rather than cracked and leaking a treasure
that attracts toward Heaven,
many have simply become "crack jars or pots."
But, the others do recognize their true worth,
when they realize that the very cracks, that come from severe
experiences, that could shake your bones, are the very cracks
that God uses to pour His Light and Love,
Through you, to help another, return to the fold!
Because, like sheep, we have all gone astray.
And, it is up to the Children Of God,
To help Gather Up The Lost Ones,
For Their Return Home, With Lord Yeshua / Jesus, When He Returns,
Which Is Quickly Now, So Get To Work and Be A Light
For Others To Follow, In Your Footsteps, Home!
That is when you are, the most you can be!
What Will It Be For You?
Eternal Life? or Eternal Contempt?
Rev. Phyllis Angel Banner
AND, NOW, FOR A "SPACE BREAK"
I WROTE THIS, TO CALM YOU DOWN!
Hooray For Mr. Rogers (Haiku)
just the way you were
made the world a friendly place
with your happy face
sorry you are not here
to see the world shed a tear
saying, "i'll miss you"
i will remember
your gentleness and your smiles
helping me through trials
when i was so blue
wanting to feel, like brand new
there you always were
loving your neighbors
was your favorite thing to do
now, "hooray" for you
© 2003 Rev. Angel Banner
(one of your t.v. kids
from way back when)
Driven Into The Midst
(the eye of the storm)
Dr. Carlyle Miller
by all meaning i will be heard
feel the words careen off my tongue
revel in the joy knowing that
sentences can speak
their own stories of wisdom
and endings...
i will let my voice be heard
move the stagnant qi in me
turn my inner energies
over to the quantal forces
and in the midst of all the chaos
know my own strength...
© 2003 Dr. Carl Miller
Kaleidoscope
I reached into my pocket of dreams
and picked one out
then, I thought
Life is not what it seems
a kaleidoscope of color and sounds
embraced me and carried me off
to my world within worlds, within me
that only my dream lover and i, get to see
it was like broken mirrors, everywhere
reflecting our lessons, that we need to share
for together we help each other to grow
from what we have learned and know
i picked our lesson of humbleness
and realized it was the path to happiness
then I picked our lesson, that taught us forgiveness
and all feelings left, containing emptiness
Together we will share and grow
knowledge and wisdom and thoughts that flow
while joining our forces, externally
we vow that our connections, will last eternally
© 2003 Rev. Angel Banner
Until We Meet Again...
I Will Just Cuddle Up Invisibly
With My Bible, That I love So Much, To Read
With The Comforter, The Holy Spirit
Guiding My Understanding Of All That Is
On The Hammock...
ZERO HOUR IS HERE, FOR YESHUA / JESUS' RETURN IS NEAR!!
REMEMBER
"GREATER IS HE IN YOU, than he that is in the World"
FOR GOD SO LOVED THE WORLD, THAT HE GAVE HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON
SO THAT YOU SHALL NOT PERISH, BUT HAVE THE LIGHT OF LIFE
"GOD's WAY - The Book of Love"
Is A Wonderful Blessing To Have And Give As A Gift (\O/)
The Link To Get One, Is At The Top Of Each Page.
"Thee Little Book" "Inspired by "Thee Comforter"
Or, You Can Click On The Little Cover Of The Book.
Thank you for your support!
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And, for helping us help others.
Thank you in Yeshua / Jesus' Name.
When You Want To Be Of Help To Others,
Who Are Having A Difficult Time In This World
Share This Little Book, "GOD's Way The Book Of Love"
To Comfort Them.
"The Comforter Inspired Every Word In It,
For You To Also Come To Be A "Helper" In This World
I Will With You Always, Even Until The End Of The World,
For You and Through You, To All You Are Inspired To Help
In My Name, Lord Yeshua and My Interpreted Name, Jesus'
"You Too Could Be Sharing This Great Little Book With Those Needing Comfort"
"GOD's WAY - The Book of Love"
Is A Wonderful Blessing To Have And Give As A Gift (\O/)
The Link To Get One, Is At The Top Of Each Page. "Thee Little Book"
Or, You Can Click On The Little Cover Of The Book.
Thank you for your generous support,
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Thank you in Yeshua / Jesus' Name.
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