Southern Gospel Forums

This is so beautiful!
John 3:16

A little boy was selling newspapers on the corner, the people were in and out of the cold.

The little boy was so cold that he wasn't trying to sell many papers.

He walked up to a policeman and said, 'Mister, you wouldn't happen to know where a poor boy could find a warm place to sleep tonight would you ?

You see, I sleep in a box up around the corner there and down the alley and it's awful cold in there for tonight.

Sure would be nice to have a warm place to stay.'

The policeman looked down at the little boy and said, 'You go down the street to that big white house and you knock on the door. When they come out the door you just say John 3:16, and they will let you in.'

So he did. He walked up the steps and knocked on the door, and a lady answered.. He looked up and said, 'John 3:16 .' The lady said, 'Come on in, Son.'

She took him in and she sat him down in a split bottom rocker in front of a great big old fireplace, and she went off.. The boy sat there for a while and thought to himself: John 3:16 ...I don't understand it, but it sure makes a cold boy warm.

Later she came back and asked him 'Are you hungry ? ' He said, 'Well, just a little. I haven't eaten in a couple of days, and I guess I could stand a little bit of food,'

The lady took him in the kitchen and sat him down to a table full of wonderful food. He ate and ate until he couldn't eat any more. Then he thought to himself: John 3:16 ....Boy, I sure don't understand it but it sure makes a hungry boy full.

She took him upstairs to a bathroom to a huge bathtub filled with warm water, and he sat there and soaked for a while. As he soaked, he thought to himself: John 3:16 . I sure don't understand it, but it sure makes a dirty boy clean... You know, I've not had a bath, a real bath, in my whole life. The only bath I ever had was when I stood in front of that big old fire hydrant as they flushed it out. The lady came in and got him. She took him to a room, tucked him into a big old feather bed, pulled the covers up around his neck, kissed him goodnight and turned out the lights. As he lay in the darkness and looked out the window at the snow coming down on that cold night, he thought to himself: John 3:16 .....I don't understand it but
it sure makes a tired boy rested.

The next morning the lady came back up and took him down again to that same big table full of food. After he ate, she took him back to that same big old split bottom rocker in front of the fireplace and
picked up a big old Bible.

She sat down in front of him and looked into his young face. 'Do you understand John 3:16 ? ' she asked gently. He replied, 'No, Ma'am, I don't. The first time I ever heard it was last night when the policeman told me to use it,' She opened the Bible to John 3:16 and began to explain to him about Jesus . Right there, in front of that big old fireplace, he gave his heart and life to Jesus. He sat there and thought: John 3:16 -- don't understand it, but it sure makes a lost boy feel safe.

You know, I have to confess I don't understand it either, how God was willing to send His Son to die for me, and how Jesus would agree to do such a thing. I don't understand the agony of the Father and every angel in heaven as they watched Jesus suffer and die. I don't understand the intense love for ME that kept Jesus on the cross till the end. I don't understand it, but it sure does make life worth living.

John 3:16 For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life....

If you aren't ashamed to do this, please follow the directions .

Jesus said, 'If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father.' Pass this on only if you mean it.

I do Love God . He is my source of existence..... He keeps me functioning each and every day. Phil 4:13 If you love God and are not ashamed of all the marvellous things he has done for you, send this on.

After being interviewed by the school administration, the prospective teacher said:

'Let me see if I've got this right.

'You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior,observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning.

'You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride.

'You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job.

You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the final exams.

'You also want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents in English, Spanish or any other language, by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.

You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps.

'You want me to do all this and then you tell me. . .

I CAN'T PRAY?

From Bob Perks:

"Rise to meet the sun"
By Bob Perks

If you want to be the first to see
what the day has to offer, stand on
the hill and be the first to see the sun.

Keep in mind that there is a possibility
that someone else is standing on a taller
mountain.

It really shouldn't matter. Eventually,
even those down in the valley will see
the light.

If you want no part of the day, try staying
in bed.

Chances are the sun will find you, still.

The sun waits for no one.

At the back of my property, we placed a
converted shed we call "Hope House."

Long before I am ready the house up on the
hill begins to glow ever so brightly.

First the peak and then washing slowly over
the top of the door, it reflects back toward
where I am standing.

Imagine a spot light on one single object
on a darkened stage. There, now fully exposed,
the house on the hill beckons me and I run up
the pathway in a hurry to claim my spot in the
sun before it even kisses the petunias in the
window boxes.

For me "Hope" glows in the early morning sun
but I need not see it to know it's always there.

I have seen the sun rise for more than 59 years.
It is only lately that I appreciate it more.

Get up before the dawn and with the rising
of the sun you will not waste a moment.

For it is not just another day...it is another
chance.

So, what does it bring?

That is best answered by asking "What will you
bring into it?"

The sun does not bring sadness, nor joy.
You do.

The sun does not create success or failure.
You do.

The sun does not make opportunities.
You do.

God does not sound an alarm nor call your name
in the early morning hours begging you to participate.

You must "Rise to meet the sun."

"I wish you enough!"
Bob


I encourage you to share my stories but
I do ask that you keep my name and contact
information with my work.

Why do we love children?

1) NUDITY
I was driving with my three young children one warm summer evening when a woman in the convertible ahead of us stood up and waved. She was stark naked! As I was reeling from the shock, I heard my 5-year-old shout from the back seat, 'Mom, that lady isn't wearing a seat belt!'

2) OPINIONS
On the first day of school, a first-grader handed his teacher a note from his mother. The note read, 'The opinions expressed by this child are not necessarily those of his parents.'

3) KETCHUP
A woman was trying hard to get the ketchup out of the jar. During her struggle the phone rang so she asked her 4-year-old daughter to answer the phone. 'Mommy can't come to the phone to talk to you right now. She's hitting the bottle.'

4) MORE NUDITY
A little boy got lost at the YMCA and found himself in the women's locker room. When he was spotted, the room burst into shrieks, with ladies grabbing towels and running for cover. The little boy watched in amazement and then asked, 'What's the matter, haven't you ever seen a little boy before?'

5) POLICE # 1
While taking a routine vandalism report at an elementary school, I was interrupted by a little girl about 6 years old. Looking up and down at my uniform, she asked, 'Are you a cop? Yes,' I answered and continued writing the report. My mother said if I ever needed help I should ask the police. Is that right?' 'Yes, that's right,' I told her. 'Well, then,' she said as she extended her foot toward me, 'would you please tie my shoe?'

6) POLICE # 2
It was the end of the day when I parked my police van in front of the station. As I gathered my equipment, my K-9 partner, Jake, was barking, and I saw a little boy staring in at me. 'Is that a dog you got back there?' he asked.
'It sure is,' I replied.
Puzzled, the boy looked at me and then towards the back of the van. Finally he said, 'What'd he do?'

7) ELDERLY
While working for an organization that delivers lunches to elderly shut-ins, I used to take my 4-year-old daughter on my afternoon rounds. She was unfailingly intrigued by the various appliances of old age, particularly the canes, walkers and wheelchairs. One day I found her staring at a pair of false teeth soaking in a glass. As I braced myself for the inevitable barrage of questions, she merely turned and whispered, 'The tooth fairy will never believe this!'

8) DRESS-UP
A little girl was watching her parents dress for a party.. When she saw her dad donning his tuxedo, she warned, 'Daddy, you shouldn't wear that suit.'
'And why not, darling?'
'You know that it always gives you a headache the next morning.'

9) DEATH (I love this one!)
While walking along the sidewalk in front of his church, our minister heard the intoning of a prayer that nearly made his collar wilt. Apparently, his 5-year-old son and his playmates had found a dead robin. Feeling that proper burial should be performed, they had secured a small box and cotton batting, then dug a hole and made ready for the disposal of the deceased.
The minister's son was chosen to say the appropriate prayers and with sonorous dignity intoned his version of what he thought his father always said: 'Glory be unto the Faaather, and unto the Sonnn, and into the hole hegoooes.' (I want this line used at my funeral!)

10) SCHOOL
A little girl had just finished her first week of school. 'I'm just wasting my time,' she said to her mother. 'I can't read, I can't write, and they won't let me talk!'

11) BIBLE
A little boy opened the big family Bible.. He was fascinated as he fingered through the old pages. Suddenly, something fell out of the Bible.. He picked up the object and looked at it. What he saw was an old leaf that had been pressed in between the pages.
'Mama, look what I found,' the boy called out.. 'What have you got there, dear?' With astonishment in the young boy's voice, he answered, 'I think it's Adam's underwear!'



IF THIS DIDN'T BRIGHTEN YOUR DAY, GO BACK TO BED AND FORGET IT!!!

From HeartWarmers:

GONE IN A FLASH
Michael Smith

The sun dropped below the horizon. The sky turned dark. The first stars of the night began to shine.
It was the peak night for the Perseids meteor shower. We gathered our grandchildren in the backyard. S ome sat in chairs and others stretched out on blankets. No street lights were nearby to hinder our view.

"There's one!" Seth, the oldest yelled.
"I missed it!" I whined.
"There's another one!" Josh yelled.
"I saw it!" Ginny and I said together as a streak of dust burned across the sky and faded into nothing. The youngest, Benny, sat in a chair beside me.

"Are you watching, Ben?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Did you see that last one?"
"No!" He sighed. "I missed it."
"Then you weren't watching, were you?"
We cheered and pointed each time a meteor lit the night sky.

"Poppa Mike?" Benny asked.
"Yes, Ben?"
"Clara is the loneliest train, you know?"
I had no idea what Benny was talking about or where the thought came from, so I just played along. "Is that so?" I asked.
"Uh huh?"
"Why is she lonely?"
"She has a boyfriend you know." He paused.
"But she's still lonely?"
"Yeah."

Another meteor made a white slash in the night sky. "Wow! Did you see it, Ben?"
"No, I missed it again."

A few weeks later, a lightning storm slowly crawled across the western sky. We watched the bolts of lightning streak diagonally from north-to-south. It was a spectacular display of nature, one we
safely watched from a distance.

"Wow! Did you see that one boys?" I asked my grandsons.
"No! We missed it again."
"Guys, you have to focus, these things happen fast. If you don't focus, you'll miss them."

Later that night, after the boys went to bed, I sat out on the deck while Ginny, her daughter, Heather, and her son-in-law, Nathan, watched a show on TV. They laughed each time I screamed, "WOW! That was a good one."

Alone with my thoughts and the lightning, I remembered the meteor shower. The lightning was the same. The flashes of light were gone in the blink of an eye. I asked myself, "Mike, how many of life's meteors and lightning bolts have you missed because you weren't paying attention?"

I had no answer to the question, for if I knew, then I wouldn't have missed them. How many times have I come home from work too wrapped in my own thoughts and missed those "daddy's home" smiles of my children? Those little smiles are lost forever, as I walked right by them. How many opportunities did I miss to praise my wife or my children? How many chances to say, "I love you" to my wife did I miss?

I made a pledge that night to pay more attention to those around me. When I arrive home from work, work stays at work and my attention is on my family, because those opportunities -- those streaks of light -- don't last long.They're gone in a flash.

-- Michael T. Smith <heartsandhumor at gmail.com>

______________________________________________
Michael lives in Ohio with his wife Ginny and his stepdaughter's family. You can see a list of Mike's stories here: http://tinyurl.com/moud8u And you can get his stories email to you by signing up here: http://tinyurl.com/ldjruh

Good story....Thought I would share it with you here:

BECOMING HOWARD
by Joseph Walker

When I started my career as a journalist at a metropolitan daily
newspaper nearly 30 years ago, we were just making the transition
from electric typewriters to word processors. As you might expect,
this was a fairly significant transition -- especially for the Old
Guard, like Howard.
Howard had been with the newspaper since... well, pretty much
since Gutenberg came up with the idea for the printing press. He had
hawked newspapers on the street as a kid, and started out as a cub
reporter during the Great Depression. They say he dragged his feet
when they wanted to replace his manual typewriter with an electric
version in the 1960s, and when the time came to replace is beloved
Selectric with a computer keyboard he absolutely refused. He
continued to type his stories and gave them to a secretary to input
them into the computer.
We youngsters used to joke about Howard's technological
reticence -- behind his back, of course. By this time, Howard was
pretty much iconic at the newspaper and nobody wanted to risk
offending him. Besides, he was such a cute little old guy. I still
smile when I think of him, hunched over his typewriter, his huge,
thick glasses pushed up and perched on his head, clackety-clacking
out a story while the rest of us tap-tapped our way along the
electronic superhighway.
I tell you this because it has recently come to my attention
that somehow during the last 30 years I have become Howard. I have
embraced a lot of change and technological advancement through the
years, but I guess I've reached the point at which my brain has
finally said: enough!
I first became aware of my Howard-ish-ness when my wife, Anita,
got one of those new cell phones that allow you to take pictures,
make movies, access the Internet and re-program sub-orbital ballistic
missiles -- all with just the gentle touch of an application button.
I scoffed at the technological overload she carried with her in
her purse. Although I must admit, I was pleased when she programmed
her phone to play the Indiana Jones theme when I call. I was
expecting something more along the lines of "What Kind of Fool Am I?"
"I just need a cell phone that lets me make and receive
telephone calls -- period!" I said. "Anything more than that is
technological overkill and probably dangerous to the ozone layer."
Then my office provided ME with one of these new phones. And
now I'm hooked. I'm constantly responding to email and text messages
and looking things up on the Internet. You never know when you're
going to need to know the name of the Iron Butterfly drummer who
played the long drum solo in "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" (by the way it was
Ron Bushy.)
Then a few weeks ago we took a long road trip, which would take
us to some places we had never before been. We Map-Quested some
directions and thought that was as good as it gets. But then our
future-son-in-law Hudson got in the car with his GPS unit, and again
I scoffed.
"I can read a map," I said. "I don't need some robot telling me
where to turn."
Turns out I do.
I was stunned by how smoothly we made it through territory that
was new to us. We had to go to a reception in a rural area with lots
of crazy twists and turns in the road, and our little GPS friend
guided us safely and calmly through it. It even figured out an
alternative route when I missed a turn. By the end of the evening I
was totally reliant on the new technology, and even whined a little
when it went for long periods of time without talking to me.
So I guess I'm understanding Howard a little better these days.
And I'm understanding the words of James M. Barrie, the author who
created the stories of Peter Pan, the boy who never wanted to get
old. Said Barrie: "Life is a long lesson in humility."
Especially if you're resistant to change.
Technologically, and otherwise.

-- Joseph Walker <ValueSpeak at msn.com>

The Old Man...

As I came out of the supermarket that sunny day, pushing my cart of
groceries towards my car, I saw an old man with the hood of his car up
and a lady sitting inside the car, with the door open.

The old man was looking at the engine. I put my groceries away in my
car and continued to watch the old gentleman from about twenty five
feet away.

I saw a young man in his early twenties with a grocery bag in his arm,
walking towards the old man. The old gentleman saw him coming too and
took a few steps towards him. I saw the old gentleman point to his open
hood and say something. The young man put his grocery bag into what
looked like a brand new Cadillac Escalade and then turn back to the old
man and I heard him yell at the old gentleman saying,

'You shouldn't even be allowed to drive a car at your age.' And then
with a wave of his hand, he got in his car and peeled rubber out of the
parking lot.

I saw the old gentleman pull out his handkerchief and mop his brow as
he went back to his car and again looked at the engine.

He then went to his wife and spoke with her and appeared to tell her it
would be okay. I had seen enough and I approached the old man. He saw
me coming and stood straight and as I got near him I said, 'Looks like
you're having a problem.'

He smiled sheepishly and quietly nodded his head. I looked under the
hood myself and knew that whatever the problem was, it was beyond me.
Looking around I saw a gas station up the road and told the old man
that I would be right back. I drove to the station and went inside and
saw three attendants working on cars. I approached one of them and
related the problem the old man had with his car and offered to pay
them if they could follow me back down and help him.
The old man had pushed the heavy car under the shade of a tree and
appeared to be comforting his wife. When he saw us he straightened up
and thanked me for my help. As the mechanics diagnosed the problem
(overheated engine) I spoke with the old gentleman.

When I shook hands with him earlier, he had noticed my Marine Corps
ring and had commented about it, telling me that he had been a Marine
too. I nodded and asked the usual question, 'What outfit did you serve
with?'
He had mentioned that he served with the first Marine Division at
Tarawa, Saipan, Iwo Jima and Guadalcanal.
He had hit all the big ones and retired from the Corps after the war
was over. As we talked we heard the car engine come on and saw the
mechanics lower the hood They came over to us as the old man reached
for his wallet, but was stopped by me and I told him I would just put
the bill on my AAA card.
He still reached for the wallet and handed me a card that I assumed had
his name and address on it and I stuck it in my pocket.. We all shook
hands all around again and I said my goodbye's to his wife.

I then told the two mechanics that I would follow them back up to the
station. Once at the station I told them that they had interrupted
their own jobs to come along with me and help the old man. I said I
wanted to pay for the help, but they refused to charge me.

One of them pulled out a card from his pocket looking exactly like the
card the old man had given to me. Both of the men told me then, that
they were Marine Corps Reserves. Once again we shook hands all around
and as I was leaving, one of them told me I should look at the card the
old man had given to me. I said I would and drove off.
For some reason I had gone about two blocks when I pulled over and took
the card out of my pocket and looked at it for a long, long time. The
name of the old gentleman was on the card in golden leaf and under his
name...... 'Congressional Medal of Honor Society.'

I sat there motionless looking at the card and reading it over and
over. I looked up from the card and smiled to no one but myself and
marveled that on this day, four Marines had all come together, because
one of us needed help. He was an old man all right, but it felt good to
have stood next to greatness and courage and an honor to have been in
his presence. Remember, OLD men like him gave you FREEDOM for America .
Thanks to those who served...& those who supported them.

America is not at war. The U.S. Militar y is at war. America is at the
Mall. If you don't stand behind our troops, PLEASE feel free to stand
in front of them!

Remember, Freedom isn't Free, thousands have paid the price so you can
enjoy what you have today.

LET'S DO THIS JUST 19 WORDS

GOD OUR FATHER, WALK THROUGH MY
HOUSE AND TAKE AWAY ALL MY WORRIES AND ILLNESSES; AND PLEASE WATCH OVER
AND HEAL MY FAMILY IN JESUS ' NAME.
~AMEN

This prayer is so powerful.

If you ever feel a little bit stupid, just dig this up and read it again; you'll begin to think you're a genius.
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(On September 17, 1994, Alabama's Heather Whitestone was selected as Miss America 1995.)
Question: If you could live forever, would you and why?
Answer: "I would not live forever, because we should not live forever, because if we were supposed to live forever, then we would live forever, but we cannot live forever, which is why I would not live forever,"
--Miss Alabama in the 1994 Miss USA contest.
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"Whenever I watch TV and see those poor starving kids all over the world, I can't help but cry. I mean I'd love to be skinny like that, but not with all those flies and death and stuff."
--Mariah Carey
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"Smoking kills. If you're killed, you've lost a very important part of your life,"
-- Brooke Shields, during an interview to become spokesperson for federal anti-smoking campaign .
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"I've never had major knee surgery on any other part of my body,"
--Winston Bennett, University of Kentucky basketball forward.
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"Outside of the killings, Washington has one of the lowest crime rates in the country,"
--Mayor Marion Barry, Washington , DC .
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"That lowdown scoundrel deserves to be kicked to death by a jackass, and I'm just the one to do it,"
--A congressional candidate in Texas
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"Half this game is ninety percent mental."
--Philadelphia Phillies manager, Danny Ozark
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"It isn't pollution that's harming the environment. It's the impurities in our air and water that are doing it."
--Al Gore, Vice President
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"I love California . I practically grew up in Phoenix ."
-- Dan Quayle
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"We've got to pause and ask ourselves: How much clean air do we need?"
--Lee Iacocca
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"The word "genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.."
--Joe Theisman, NFL football quarterback & sports analyst.
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"We don't necessarily discriminate. We simply exclude certain types of people."
-- Colonel Gerald Wellman, ROTC Instructor.
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"Your food stamps will be stopped effective March 1992 because we received notice that you passed away. May God bless you. You may reapply if there is a change in your circumstances."
--Department of Social Services, Greenville , South Carolina
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"Traditionally, most of Australia's imports come from overseas."
--Keppel Enderbery
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"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record."
--Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman
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"If somebody has a bad heart, they can plug this jack in at night as they go to bed and it will monitor their heart throughout the night. And the next morning, when they wake up dead, there'll be a record."
--Mark S. Fowler, FCC Chairman

smokymtnsanta wrote:After being interviewed by the school administration, the prospective teacher said:

'Let me see if I've got this right.

'You want me to go into that room with all those kids, correct their disruptive behavior,observe them for signs of abuse, monitor their dress habits, censor their T-shirt messages, and instill in them a love for learning.

'You want me to check their backpacks for weapons, wage war on drugs and sexually transmitted diseases, and raise their sense of self esteem and personal pride.

'You want me to teach them patriotism and good citizenship, sportsmanship and fair play, and how to register to vote, balance a checkbook, and apply for a job.

You want me to check their heads for lice, recognize signs of antisocial behavior, and make sure that they all pass the final exams.

'You also want me to provide them with an equal education regardless of their handicaps, and communicate regularly with their parents in English, Spanish or any other language, by letter, telephone, newsletter, and report card.

You want me to do all this with a piece of chalk, a blackboard, a bulletin board, a few books, a big smile, and a starting salary that qualifies me for food stamps.

'You want me to do all this and then you tell me. . .

I CAN'T PRAY?

Good point. We need to pray for our teachers. Thank you Santa for this inspiring post.

Moonlight in Autumn

click on link below:

http://wandascountryhome.com/autumnleaves/index.html

One day a woman's husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't "anymore."

No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute."
Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say good-bye, say "I love you."

So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick.

This is true for marriage ... and old cars, and children with bad report cards, and dogs with bad hips, family and aging parents and grandparents.

We keep them because they are worth it ......because we are worth it.
Some things we keep -- like a best friend who moved away or a sister-in-law after divorce.

There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what.
Life is important. We only have one.
We only have one mom, one dad, one unique brother or sister or friend.

Suppose one morning you never wake up.
Do all your friends know you love them?

I was thinking.....I could die today, tomorrow or next week, and I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed, friendships that needed rekindling or three words needing to be said.

Let every one of your friends and family know you love them. Even if you think they don't love you back, you would be amazed at what those three little words and a smile can do.

And just in case GOD calls me home . . ...
I LOVE YA !

Someone Who Cares

clikc on link below and have volume turned on:

http://wandascountryhome.com/someonetocare/index.html

A Place For Reflection

click on link below with volume turned on and read the story and hear the beautiful music:

http://wandascountryhome.com/dorsey/index.html

I see a lot of emails day in and day out. Many with articles I have seen before. After a while they begin to run togehter. Yes, remember I am an ole Geezer. Received this in an email today and I know I have posted it before but not sure if I posted it here recently or maybe it was in the other forum. Please read this and enjoy it once again if you have seen it before. Some may need a tissue. God is Good:

Oh yes, God is able.

This is a beautiful story written by a doctor who worked in South Africa .

One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite
of all we could do, she died, leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a
crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby
alive; as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator).

We also had no special feeding facilities.

Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous
drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the
cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in.

Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back
shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst
(rubber perishes easily in tropical climates)....

'And it is our last hot water bottle!' she exclaimed. As in the West, it is
no good crying over spilled m ilk, so in Central Africa it might be
considered no good crying over burst water bottles.

They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.

'All right,' I said, 'put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and
sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts Your job is
to keep the baby warm.'

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of
the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters
various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny
baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough,mentioning
the hot water bottle, and that the baby could so easily die if it got chills
I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had
died.

During prayer time, one ten -year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual
blunt conciseness of our African children. 'Please, God' she prayed, 'Send
us a hot water bottle today. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby
will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.'

While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added, 'And while
You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she
ll know You really love her?'

As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly
say 'Amen?' I just did not believe that God could do this.

Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything; the Bible says so. But there are
limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer
would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for
almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever, received a parcel
from home.

Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle?
I lived on the equator!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training
school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the
time I reached home, the car had gone, but there on the verandah was a large
22-pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel
alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the
string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking car e not
to tear it unduly Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of
eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out
brightly-colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then
there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children
looked a little bored.. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - that
would make a batch of buns for the weekend.

Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the.....could it really be?

I grasped it and pulled it out. Yes, a brand new, rubber hot water bottle. I
cried.

I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could.

Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out,
If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!'

Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small,
beautifully-dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted!

Looking up at me, she asked, 'Can I go over with you and give this dolly to
that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?'

'Of course,' I replied!

That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my
former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's
prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator.

And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child - five months
before, in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it
that afternoon.'

'Before they call, I will answer.' (Isaiah 65:24)

P. S. Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both.
Passing this on to one not considered a friend is something Christ would do.

We have an *An Award Winning Heartwarmer* for you today.

Teri experienced something when she was 10 years old that she
never experienced before. It was a revelation that made an impact on
her entire life.
You'll love today's story so steal a few moments and escape into
the wonderful world of Heartwarmers...

______________________________________________


* An Award Winning Heartwarmer *

THE POWER OF SECOND CHANCES
by Teri Goggin-Roberts

Theodore Johnson, or "Mr. J" was my fifth grade teacher.
He was a tall, slender man with a reputation for fun that made
students pray to be assigned to his class. Mr. J was significant in
my life for many reasons. As an educator, he brought mundane
subjects to life with humor and passion.
As a person, he taught me the blessing of an unexpected second chance.
One Monday morning, the schoolyard buzzed with rumors about a
fire in the school over the weekend. When the bell rang I raced
inside, excited by the acrid scent of burnt wood that confirmed the
rumors.
Homeroom hummed with conversation. Mr. J quieted the class and
explained that "Home Economics" would be cancelled due to a fire. He
also warned us not to go near the room because it could be dangerous.
At morning recess, my friend Kim and I cooked up a plan to check out
the damage. A first hand observation would make us heroes at lunch.
Since Kim was in a different class, we decided to synchronize a time
to go to the bathroom and divert to the "Home Ec" room instead.
As the appointed time approached, I ignored a growing sense of
dread. I didn't want to face the consequences at home if I got
caught but I also couldn't "chicken out" and face Kim after school.
When the clock ticked into position, I raised my hand and got
permission to "go to the lavatory." Kim was already waiting in the
hall.
Kim and I safely reached the home economics room. We stood on
tiptoes peering through the door window trying in vain to see what
was forbidden. A firm grip on our shoulders stopped my heart cold.
"Where do you belong? Certainly not here!"
I whirled around to find a teacher staring angrily at us. I'd
seen angry teachers before, but they were always glaring at someone
else, not me. In those frozen seconds millions of thoughts flashed
through my mind. My father would kill me for defying a teacher.
Worse than that, my mom might be so mad she might not stop him.
Utter terror froze my tongue but eventually I stuttered, "I
belong in Mr. J's class." My spirits sank even lower when I realized
my lie to Mr. J would soon be exposed.
The arresting teacher led Kim and I back to our classrooms and
knocked on the doors. I stood in the hall as my captor spoke with
Mr. Johnson who rubbed his chin and arched his eyebrows as he
listened. I wanted to melt into the floor.
There was nowhere to hide from Mr. Johnson's angry eyes when
they darted toward me during parts of the story. I lived with an
alcoholic father so anger meant pain and I was already nauseous from
the pain in my head. The teacher swished past, leaving my destiny in
the hands of Mr. Johnson -- who now hated me.
I blinked hard, fighting back tears of self-loathing. Like
home, I desperately tried not to let Mr. J see me cry, instead, I
braced myself for a barrage of anger.
But Mr. Johnson had a different lesson to teach.
Slowly, he knelt down on one knee and hunched his lanky body in
an attempt to look me in the eye. When I glanced up from my shoes, I
was met with a look of concern rather than anger. He spoke softly
and carefully as he explained why he was disappointed in my decision
to go where I may have gotten hurt. I was stunned that he cared more
about my safety than the fact that I'd broken a rule. There was no
yelling and no berating.
As I looked into the eyes of the man who could send me to
unimagined consequences at home, I began to cry. The full weight of
disappointing Mr. J crushed my ten-year-old shoulders. I wiped my
tears and wished I'd been expelled so I wouldn't have to return to a
class full of staring eyes and spend the rest of the year hoping Mr.
J would like me again.
But the lesson was not complete.
Mr. J stood up, indicating it was time to return to class. My
heart was heavy with regret as we walked. The load lifted instantly
with the gentle touch of Mr. J's hand on my shoulder. I glanced up
and he smiled. My love for Mr. J blossomed in the moment I
discovered that he still liked me even after I'd disappointed him.
Slowly, it sunk in that he didn't raise his voice or threaten
me. He didn't do anything but let me feel the impact of my actions.
It was the first time I felt the exquisite freedom of forgiveness.
Mr. J made no public mention of my crime, nor did he tell my
parents. The rest of the day he smiled and acted normally. I saw
the world from a fresh angle.
At 10 years of age, I couldn't pinpoint what was different, I
just knew I felt better about myself. I also knew I'd never
disappoint Mr. Johnson again.
Looking back, I can clearly see what was different.
When I made mistakes at home the recovery from anger took days.
But on that day, trust was restored the moment Mr. J smiled.
I learned many things that year, but nothing more important than
the power of being granted an unexpected second chance.

-- Teri Goggin-Roberts <indigomuse63 at aol.com>

______________________________________________
Teri Goggin-Roberts taught at a men's prison near Philadelphia where
she witnessed the power of unexpected chances. She is writing a book
about second chances. If you have any examples from your life and
want your story to be told by Teri, please feel free to email her.
______________________________________________

I got this in my email today and I liked it. I thought it might fit here.

A new minister was walking with an older,
more seasoned minister in the garden one day.

Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to do,
he was asking the older preacher for some advice.
The older preacher walked up to a rosebush and handed the young preacher a rosebud and told him to open it
without tearing off any petals.

The young preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher
and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of God for his life and ministry.

But because of his great respect for the older preacher,
he proceeded to try to unfold the rose,
while keeping every petal intact..
It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do.

Noticing the younger preacher's inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older preacher began to recite the following poem...

It is only a tiny rosebud,
A flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known to such as I..
GOD opens this flower so easily,
But in my hands they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in God for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to God for guidance
In each step of the way.

The path that lies before me,
Only my Lord knows.
I'll trust God to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose.

All of these stories, poems, etc. are so beautiful. I have only today discovered this thread! I have a lot of reading to do.

Thank you, Santa.

All the best!

The Scripture Tree

Click on link below:

http://home.att.net/~sheryl4/ST/Christian-Tree-1.html