Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid 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 end. 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 by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one-hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of7 the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young couples walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color 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 window described all this in exquisite detail, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine the picturesque scene. One warm afternoon the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man couldn't hear the band - he could see it in his mind's eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Then unexpectedly, a sinister thought entered his mind. Why should the other man alone experience all the pleasures of seeing everything while he himself never got to see anything? It didn't seem fair. At first thought the man felt ashamed. 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 he found himself unable to sleep. He should be by that window - that thought, and only 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. In less than five minutes the coughing and choking stopped along with that 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 body of the man by the window, she was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take it away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the world outside. 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. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased room mate had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall. She said, "Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you." When I was a little boy, my mother used to embroider a great deal. I would sit at her knee and look up from the floor and ask what she was doing. She informed me that she was embroidering. I told her that it looked like a mess from where I was. As from the underside I watched her work with in the boundaries of the little round hoop that she held in her hand, I complained to her that it sure looked messy from where I sat. She would smile at me, look down and gently say, "My son, you go about your playing for awhile, and when I am finished with my embroidering, I will put you on my knee and let you see it from my side." I would wonder why she was using some dark threads along with the bright ones and why they seemed so jumbled from my view. A few minutes would pass and then I would hear Mother's voice say, "Come and sit on my knee." This I did only to be surprised and thrilled to see a beautiful flower or a sunset. I could not believe it, because from underneath it looked so messy. Then Mother would say to me, from underneath it did look messy and jumbled, but you did not realize that there was a pre-drawn plan on the top. It was a design. I was only following it. Now look at it from my side and you will see what I was doing." Many times through the years I have looked up to my Heavenly Father and said, "Father, what are You doing?" He has answered, "I am embroidering your life." I say, "But it looks like a mess to me. It seems so jumbled. The threads seem so dark. Why can’t they all be bright?" The Father seems to tell me, "My child, you go about your business of doing and one day I will bring you to Heaven and put you on My knee and you will see the plan from My side." The Lord God loves thee so. Thou art the apple of His eye. And so that thou mayest no more die, He gave His only begotten Son, Who, on the cross died after crying, "It is done." Cherubim and seraphim wander in awe, And praise their Maker evermore, "What love Thou hast, Contend to give Thy Best, Upon Adam's ruined race And thus to save them by Thy grace." To every penitent heart, God says, "Goodness and mercy all thy days Shall surely follow thee. Arise, repent, believe in Me. Wait on Me, draw nigh, And I'll bestow thee power from on high." "In sickness and in health, Poverty or wealth, Life or death, I will be ever near, And to all the sorrowful, I will truly hold dear. I love thee that much, I was thy sacrifice To atone fully for thy sins, yea, I paid the price." Reporters and city officials gathered at a Chicago railroad station one afternoon in 1953. The person they were meeting was the 1952 Nobel Peace Prizewinner. A few minutes after the train came to a stop, a giant of a man - six feet four inches - with bushy hair and a large mustache stepped from the train. Cameras flashed. City officials approached him with hands outstretched. Various people began telling him how honored they were to meet him. The man politely thanked them and then, looking over their heads, asked if he could be excused for a moment. He quickly walked through the crowd until he reached the side of an elderly black woman who was struggling with two large suitcases. He picked up the bags and with a smile, escorted the woman to a bus. After helping her aboard, he wished her a safe journey. As he returned to the greeting party he apologized, "Sorry to have kept you waiting." The man was Dr. Albert Schweitzer, the famous missionary doctor who had spent his life helping the poor in Africa. In response to Schweitzer's action, one member of the reception committee said with great admiration to the reporter standing next to him, "That's the first time I ever saw a sermon walking." Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. The flashing red in his rearview mirror insisted he pulls over quickly, but Jack let the car coast. 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. He slumped into his seat, the collar of his trench coat covering his ears. He tapped the steering wheel, doing his best to look bored, his eyes on the 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 cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little too eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow. Jack was tempted to leave the window shut long enough to gain the psychological edge but decided on a different tack. Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform. "Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this." "Hello, Jack." No smile. "Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids." 'Yeah, I guess." 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," Bob said. Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics. "What'd you clock me at?" asked Jack. "Seventy-one. Would you sit back in your car, please?" Bob said. "Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lies seemed to come easier with every ticket. "Please, Jack, in the car." Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip. "Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice. Bob returned to his car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror, bottom teeth scratching his upper lip. When Bob vanished inside his car, 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,Jack shifted uncomfortably in his trench coat. Then he 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. I gave you life, but cannot live it for you. I can teach you things, but I cannot make you learn. I can give you directions, but I cannot be there to lead you. I can allow you freedom, but I cannot account for it. I can take you to church, but I cannot make you believe. I can teach you right from wrong, but I cannot always decide for you. I can buy you beautiful clothes, but I cannot make you beautiful inside. I can offer you advice, but I cannot accept it for you. I can give you love, but I cannot force it upon you. I can teach you to share, but I cannot make you unselfish. I can teach you respect, but I cannot force you to show honor. I can advise you about friends, but cannot choose them for you. I can advise you about sex, but I cannot keep you pure. I can tell you the facts of life, but I can't build your reputation. I can tell you about drink, but I can't say "no" for you. I can warn you about drugs but I can't prevent you from using them. I can tell you about lofty goals, but I can't achieve them for you. I can teach you about kindness, but I can't force you to be gracious. I can warn you about sins, but I cannot make you moral I can love you as a child, but I cannot place you in G-d's family. I can pray for you, but I cannot make you walk with God. I can teach you about Jesus, but I cannot make Jesus your Lord. I can tell you how to live, but I cannot give you eternal life. I can love you with unconditional love all of my life..... and I will!!! Always, Mom 4 YEARS OF AGE My Mommy can do anything! 8 YEARS OF AGE My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot! 12 YEARS OF AGE My Mother doesn't really know quite everything 14 YEARS OF AGE Naturally, Mother doesn't know that either. 16 YEARS OF AGE Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned. 18 YEARS OF AGE My Mother ??? She's way out of date! 25 YEARS OF AGE Well, she might know a little bit about it. 35 YEARS OF AGE Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion. 60 YEARS OF AGE Wonder what Mom would have thought about it? 65 YEARS OF AGE Wish I could talk it over with Mom once more. There was a Christian lady who lived next door to an atheist. Everyday, when the lady prayed, the atheist guy could hear her. He thought to himself, "She sure is crazy, praying all the time like that. Doesn't she know there isn't a God? "Many times while she was praying, he would go to her house and harass her, saying "Lady, why do you pray all the time? Don't you know there is no God?" But she kept on praying. One day, she ran out of groceries. As usual, she was praying to the Lord explaining her situation and thanking Him for what He was gonna do. AS USUAL, the atheist heard her praying and thought to himself. "Hmph . . .I'll fix her. "He went to the grocery store, bought a whole bunch of groceries, took them to her house, dropped them off on the front porch, rang the doorbell and then hid in the bushes to see what she would do. When she opened the door and saw the groceries, she began to praise the Lord with all her heart, jumping, singing and shouting' everywhere! The atheist then jumped out of the bushes and told her, "You ol' crazy lady, God didn't buy you those groceries, I bought those groceries! "Well, she broke out and started running down the street, shouting and praising the Lord. When he finally caught her, he asked what her problem was . . . She said, "I knew the Lord would provide me with some groceries, but I didn't know he was gonna make the devil pay for them! I shall not rush. He makes me stop and rest for quiet intervals, He provides me with images of stillness, which restore my serenity. He leads me in ways of efficiency through calmness of mind, And His guidance is peace. Even though I have a great many things to accomplish each day, I will not fret, for His presence is here. His timelessness, His all-importance will keep me in balance, He prepares refreshment and renewal in the midst of my activitiy. By anointing my mind with His oils of tranquility, My cup of joyous energy overflows. Surely harmony and effectiveness shall be the fruit of my hours, For I shall walk in the place of my Lord, and dwell in His house forever. I once thought marriage took Just two to make a go, But now I am convinced It takes the Lord also. And not one marriage fails Where Christ is asked to enter , As lovers come together With Jesus at the center. But marriage seldom thrives, And homes are incomplete, Till He is welcomed there To help avoid defeat. In homes where Christ is first, It's obvious to see, Those unions really work, For marriage still takes three.
W is for who we worship,
O is for the open heart
R is for the righteousness
S is for our shame and sin
H is for the happiness
I is for the immenseness
P is for the praise we give
So fall on your knees and worship Copyright © 1998 Christine Chipman. Are you passing through a testing. Is your pillow wet with tears? Do you wonder what the reason, Why it seems God never hears? Why it is you have no answer To your oft-repeated plea, Why the heaven still is leaden As you wait on bended knee? Do you wonder as you suffer, Whether God does understand, And if so, why He ignores you, Fails to hold you in His Hand? Do black doubts creep in, assail you, Fears without, and fears within, Till your brave heart almost falters And gives way to deadly sin? All God's testings have a purpose- Some day you will see the light. All He asks is that you trust Him, Walk by faith and not by sight. Do not fear when doubts beset you, Just remember-He is near; He will never, never leave you, He will always, always hear. Faithful is He who has promised, He will never let you fall, Daily will the strength be given Strength for each and strength for all. He will gladly share pain with you, He will gladly give you peace. Till your tired and weary body Finds its blessed, glad release. When the darkened veil is lifted, Then, dear heart, you'll understand Why it is you had to suffer, Why you could not feel His hand Giving strength when it was needed, Giving power and peace within Giving joy thru tears and trial, Giving victory over sin. So till then just keep on trusting, Thru the sunshine and the rain, Thru the tears and thru the heart-aches, Thru the smiles and thru the pain- Knowing that our Father watches, Knowing daily strength He'll give, Victory for each passing hour, This is life, so let us live! -John E. Zoller You ask me why I love the Lord, And why I wear a smile; You ask me why I feel so good, And everything's worth while; I don't know why He loved me so, Some things I can't explain; I only know I've peace with God, And I've been born again. I never knew this peace before Until the Lord saved me; I never knew He loved me so, And died on Calvary. But since my soul has been redeemed, My night has turned to day; And now I'm walking in the light, And Jesus leads the way. It sure feels good to be redeemed, To have this peace inside; To know your sins are washed away In Calvary's crimson tide. And that's the reason why I sing His praises here below; Because He saved a wretch like me, That's why I love Him so. by; Walt Huntley Hold my hand through troubled waters, Lord, I'm tempest-tossed and frail; Without Thee, I'd surely flounder Like a ship without a sail. Be my anchor, lest I perish For there is no help but Thee. With Thy mighty strength, uphold me While I cross this stormy sea. Sorrow's clouds are growing darker; Paths ahead, I cannot see, And the gales blow fierce about me... Thou, my Savior, pilot me! What a comfort, Lord to know Thee! Feel Thy blessed presence near; And to hear Thee gently whisper "Child, I'm with you...do not fear." I accept this trial from Thee, Lord, For I know 'tis as You've planned; And I'll trust Thy love and wisdom Though I do not understand. One glad day, I'll know the reason, See Thy blessing now disguised, Know just why You chose to lead me Through these waters deep and wide. But for now..just hold my hand, Lord, And together we will row Through this sea of troubled waters. 'Tis enough for me to know That You never will forsake me In the blackness of the night; And Your love will safely guide me Through the storm to morning light. Author Unknown The Burning Hut The only survivor of a shipwreck washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming. Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements, and to store his few possessions. But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had happened; everything was lost. He was stung with grief and anger. "God, how could you do this to me!" he cried. Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him. "How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers. "We saw your smoke signal," they replied. It is easy to get discouraged when things are going bad. But we shouldn't lose heart, because God is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering. Paul wrote, "I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. " (Philippians 4:12). Paul had confidence that good would come out of everything (Romans 8:28), so he learned to be thankful, not bitter, even when he was suffering. Remember the next time your little hut is burning to the ground--it just may be a smoke signal that summons the grace of God. Don't let your parents down, they brought you up. Be humble enough to obey, you may give orders someday. Choose companions with care, you become what they are. Guard your thoughts, what you think, you are. Choose only a date who would make a good mate. Be master of your habits, or they will master you. Don't be a show off when you drive. Drive with safety and arrive. Don't let the crowd pressure you. Stand for something or you'll fall for anything. When Horatio Spafford sat with his wife Anne and their four daughters at Thanksgiving dinner in November 1871, he had to think twice when asked to pass the sugar bowl. Life had been anything but sweet in recent weeks. During the past summer, this Chicago attorney had experienced the most challenging test to his Christian faith. A virus swept through the city leaving a trail of tombstones in it's wake. Among the dead was the Spaffords' only son. Emotionally bankrupt, this wealthy businessman shivered with grief while others fanned themselves in the humid Midwestern heat. Less than four months later, on October 9, Spafford anxiously watched as the great Chicago fire swallowed up 10 square blocks of office buildings and homes along Lake Michigan. Among the smoldering ash heaps were several of Spafford's prized investment properties. It is likely that the words of the apostle Paul stuck in his throat while he swallowed his turkey dinner, "In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God...concerning you" (1 Thessalonians 5:18). How could he be grateful when life was anything but sweet? But as he looked around the family table at his beloved Anne and his four darling daughters, Sparrod realized his true wealth had not gone up in smoke. He sensed the presence of a faithful God. Two Thanksgivings later Horatio sat alone at an empty table. No turkey or pumpkin pie. No appetite. A grateful, yet broken heart, once again pulsated with pain. In an effort to move beyond the devastation of their son's death and the financial ruin of the fire, the Spaffords had planned an extended vacation in England. Unexpected business dealings prevented Horatio from traveling with his wife and girls who had booked passage on the Ville du Havre. He would join them within a week or two. And then the unthinkable. The vessel collided with an English ship and within 12 minutes had sunk. Although many of the passengers (including his wife) were saved by the English crew, all four daughters drowned. As he sat at the family table he couldn't eat. He could only ponder the telegram from his Anne which contained only two words..."saved alone." In his grief he was grateful his sweetheart had been spared. He thanked the Lord all his girls were Christians. He found the inner strength to celebrate that God was in control. Two years earlier he had learned that the granules of God's grace could sweeten the bitter taste of seemingly senseless tragedy. Beneath the ache of his bleeding heart he felt an unexplainable peace. In the depth of his soul all was well. A few days later, Spafford booked passage for England to join Anne. When his ship sailed in the vicinity of where the Ville du Havre went down, Horatio stood on the deck and penned a poem articulating his emotions. Little did he realize his lines would be sung as a hymn in churches for generations to come. "When peace, like a river, attendeth my way. When sorrows like sea billows roll; whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say, 'it is well, It is well with my soul.' And Lord, haste the day when the faith shall be sight. The clouds be rolled back as a scroll; The trump shall resound and the Lord shall descend; Even so, it is well with my soul." ****IT IS WELL WITH MY SOULAuthor: Horatio G. Spafford, 1828-1888 Music: Philip P. Bliss, 1838-1876 The Difference I got up early one morning and rushed right into the day. I had so much to accomplish that I didn't have time to pray. Problems just tumbled about me and heavier came each task. `Why doesn't God help me?' I wondered. He answered, `You didn't ask.' I wanted to see joy and beauty, but the day toiled on, gray and bleak; I wondered why God didn't show me. He said, `But you didn't seek.' I tried to come into God's presence; I used all my keys at the lock. God gently and lovingly chided, `My child, you didn't knock.' I woke up early this morning, and paused to pray before entering the day. I had so much to accomplish that I had to take time to pray. -- Author Unknown --
Quietly, patiently, lovingly God replied. I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate, And the Master so gently said, "Child, you must wait." "Wait? You say, wait! " my indignant reply. "Lord, I need answers, I need to know why! Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard? By Faith, I have asked, and am claiming your Word. My future and all to which I can relate hangs in the balance, and YOU tell me to WAIT? I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign, or even a 'no' to which I can resign. And Lord, You promised that if we believe we need but to ask, and we shall receive. And Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry: I'm weary of asking! I need a reply! Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate As my Master replied once again, "You must wait." So, I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut and grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting.... for what?" He seemed, then, to kneel, and His eyes wept with mine, And he tenderly said, "I could give you a sign. I could shake the heavens, and darken the sun. I could raise the dead, and cause mountains to run. All you seek, I could give, and pleased you would be. You would have what you want~~But, you wouldn't know Me. You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint; You'd not know the power that I give to the faint; You'd not learn to see through the clouds of despair; You'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there; You'd not know the joy of resting in Me When darkness and silence were all you could see. You'd never experience that fullness of love As the peace of My Spirit descends like a dove; You'd know that I give and I save.... (for a start), But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart. The glow of My comfort late into the night, The faith that I give when you walk without sight, The depth that's beyond getting just what you asked Of an infinite God, who makes what you have LAST. You'd never know, should your pain quickly flee, What it means that "My grace is sufficient for Thee." Yes, your dreams for your loved one overnight would come true, But, Oh, the Loss! If I lost what I'm doing in you! So, be silent, My Child, and in time you will see That the greatest of gifts is to get to know Me. And though oft' may My answers seem terribly late, My most precious answer of all is still, "WAIT." I asked God to take away my pride,
I asked God to make my handicapped child whole,
I asked God to grant me patience,
I asked God to give me happiness,
I asked God to spare me pain,
I asked God to make my spirit grow,
I asked God if He loved me,
I asked God to help me love others
When troubles come your soul to try You Love the friend who just stands by. Perhaps there's nothing she can do The thing is strictly up to you. For there are troubles all your own And paths the soul must tread alone. Times when love can't smooth the road Nor friendship lift the heavy load. But just to feel you have a friend Who will stand by until the end. Whose sympathy through all endures Whose warm handclasp is always yours. It helps somehow to pull you through Although there's nothing she can do. And so with fervent heart we cry God Bless the friend who just stands by. Anonymous Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy. An upstate NY man was rich in almost every way. His
estate was worth millions. He owned houses, land, antiques, and cattle.
But though on the outside he had it all, he was very unhappy on the
inside. He had always wanted a little boy to carry on the family
legacy. I asked God for strength, that I might achieve: I was made weak that I might obey. I asked for health that I might do greater things: I was given infirmity that I might do better things. I asked for riches that I might be happy: I was given poverty that I might be wise. I asked for power that I might have the praise of men: I was given weakness that I might feel the need of God. I asked for all things that I might enjoy life: I was given life that I might enjoy all things. I received nothing that I asked for, but all I had hoped for. My prayer was answered, I am most richly blessed. A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months he
had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing his
father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted. As
Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his father had
purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation, his father
called him into his private study. His father told him how proud he was to
have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son
a beautifully wrapped gift box. Curious, and somewhat disappointed, the
young man opened the box and >found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the
young man's name embossed in gold.
Some day when my children are old enough
to understand the logic that motivates a mother,
I will tell them:
I loved you enough to ask you about where you were going,
with whom, and what time you would get home.
A young man was at the end of his rope. Seeing no way out he dropped to his
knees in prayer. "Lord, I can't go on," he said. "I have too heavy a cross
to bear." The sound of Martha's voice on the other end of the telephone always
brought a smile to Brother Jim's face. She was not only one of the
oldest members of the congregation, but one of the most faithful. Aunt
Martie, as all of the children called her, just seemed to ooze faith, hope, and
love wherever she went. This time, however, there seemed to be an unusual
tone to her words. The cheerful girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with
her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them: a circle of glistening
white pearls in a pink foil box. "Oh please, Mommy. Can I have them?
Please, Mommy, please!" Quickly the mother checked the back of the little
foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little
girl's upturned face. "A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you
really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time
you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only
a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma." Not long ago I heard a story about a young man and an old preacher.
The young man had lost his job and didn't know which way to turn. So he
went to see the old preacher.Pacing about the preacher's study, the young man ranted about his
problem. Finally he clenched his fist and shouted, "I've begged God
to say something to help me, preacher, why doesn't God answer?" At first I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I
did wrong, so as to know whether I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was
out there sort of like a president. I recognized His picture when I saw it,
but I really didn't know Him. But later on when I met Christ, it seemed as
though life were rather like a bike ride, but it was a tendem bike, and I
noticed that Christ was in the back helping me pedal. I don't know just when
it was that He suggest we change places, but life has not been the same
since. When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but
predictable...It was the shortest distance between two points. But when He
took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky
places at breakneck speeds, it was all I could do to hang on. Even though it
looked like madness, He said, "Pedal!" I was worried and was anxious and
asked, "Where are you taking me?" He laughed and didn't answer, and I started to learn to trust. I forgot my
boring life and entered into the adventure and when I would say, "I'm
scared!", He would lean back and touch my hand. He took me to people with
gifts that I needed, gifts of healing, acceptance, and and joy. They gave me
gifts to take on my journey, My Lord's and mine.
And we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away, they're extra
baggage, too much weight." So I did, to the people we met, and found that in
giving I received, and still our burden was light. I did not trust him at
first, in control of my life, I thought He's wreck it; but He knows bike
secrets, knows how to make it bend to take sharp corners, knows how to jump
to clear high rocks, knows how to fly to shorten scary passages. And I'm
learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I'm beginning to
enjoy the view, and the cool breeze in my face with my delightful constant
companion, Jesus Christ. And when I'm sure I just can't do it anymore, He
just smiles and says..."Pedal." I WAS HOLDING A NOTICE FROM my 13-year-old son's school announcing
meeting to preview the new course in sexuality. Parents could examine the
curriculum and take part in an actual lesson presented exactly as it would
be given to the students. When arrived at the school, I was surprised
to discover only about a dozen parents there. As we waited for the
presentation, I thumbed through page after page of instructions in the
prevention of pregnancy or disease. I found abstinence mentioned only
in passing. |