Monday, April 27, 2009
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
GOD can use u if u are willing to be used
A young man had been to Wednesday Night Bible Study. The Pastor had shared about listening to God and obeying the Lord's voice. The young man couldn't help but wonder, 'Does God still speak to people?'
After service, he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they discussed the message. Several different ones talked about how God had led them in different ways.
It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, 'God...If you still speak t o people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey.'
After service, he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and they discussed the message. Several different ones talked about how God had led them in different ways.
It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, 'God...If you still speak t o people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey.'
As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought to stop and buy a gallon of milk.
He shook his head and said out loud, 'God is that you?' He didn't get a reply and started on toward home.
But again, the thought, buy a gallon of milk.
The young man thought about Samuel and how he didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli.
'Okay, God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk.' It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home.
As he passed Seventh Street, he again felt the urge, 'Turn Down that street.'
This is crazy he thought, and drove on past the intersection.
Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street .
At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh.
Half jokingly, he said out loud, 'Okay, God, I will.'
He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi- commercial area of town. It wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either.
He shook his head and said out loud, 'God is that you?' He didn't get a reply and started on toward home.
But again, the thought, buy a gallon of milk.
The young man thought about Samuel and how he didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli.
'Okay, God, in case that is you, I will buy the milk.' It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home.
As he passed Seventh Street, he again felt the urge, 'Turn Down that street.'
This is crazy he thought, and drove on past the intersection.
Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street .
At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh.
Half jokingly, he said out loud, 'Okay, God, I will.'
He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi- commercial area of town. It wasn't the best but it wasn't the worst of neighborhoods either.
The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in bed.
Again, he sensed something, 'Go and give t he milk to the people in the house across the street.' The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat.
'Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going
to be mad and I will look stupid.' Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk.
Finally, he opened the door, 'Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to b e obedient. I guess that will count for some thing, but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here.'
He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, 'Who is it? What do you want?' Then the door opened before the young man could get away.
The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. H e looked like he just got out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. 'What is it?'
The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, 'Here, I brought this to you.' The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway.
Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face.
The man began speaking and half crying, 'We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk.'
His wife in the kitchen yelled out, 'I ask him to send an Angel with some. Are you an Angel?'
The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car and the tears were streaming down his face.
Again, he sensed something, 'Go and give t he milk to the people in the house across the street.' The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat.
'Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going
to be mad and I will look stupid.' Again, he felt like he should go and give the milk.
Finally, he opened the door, 'Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to b e obedient. I guess that will count for some thing, but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here.'
He walked across the street and rang the bell. He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, 'Who is it? What do you want?' Then the door opened before the young man could get away.
The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. H e looked like he just got out of bed. He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. 'What is it?'
The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, 'Here, I brought this to you.' The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway.
Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face.
The man began speaking and half crying, 'We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk.'
His wife in the kitchen yelled out, 'I ask him to send an Angel with some. Are you an Angel?'
The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car and the tears were streaming down his face.
He knew that God still answers prayers.
Monday, March 02, 2009
爱的故事
一天清晨，我早早醒来去看日出。
啊！神的创造之美远远超过人所能描述的。在观看时，我为主如此美丽的创造之工而赞 美。我坐在那儿，感到主就在我的身旁。
啊！神的创造之美远远超过人所能描述的。在观看时，我为主如此美丽的创造之工而赞 美。我坐在那儿，感到主就在我的身旁。
主问我：“你爱我吗？”
我答道：“当然，我的神！您是我的主，我的救赎者。”
我答道：“当然，我的神！您是我的主，我的救赎者。”
他又问我：“如果你身体有残疾，是否仍旧爱我？”
我有些糊涂。于是低头看看我的胳膊、腿和其他部分，我怀疑有多少事我原以为是理所当然的却不一定能做到。但我还是回答说，"主啊，这是很难的，但我仍旧爱您。"
主接着问我：“如果你是瞎眼的，你仍爱我的创造之物吗？”
我该如何去爱那些我无法看见的东西呢？然而我又想到世上那些失明的人们，他们中间有许多人仍爱着神和他的创造之物！于是我回答说：“ 想起来很难，但主啊，我还是愿意爱您。”
我该如何去爱那些我无法看见的东西呢？然而我又想到世上那些失明的人们，他们中间有许多人仍爱着神和他的创造之物！于是我回答说：“ 想起来很难，但主啊，我还是愿意爱您。”
主又问我：“如果你是一个聋子，你是否仍愿意听我的话语？”
耳聋的如何能够听见呢？然而我明白了。听神的话语并不仅仅用我们的耳朵，而是用我们的心。我回答说：“主啊，会很难，但我愿意听 您的话语。”
耳聋的如何能够听见呢？然而我明白了。听神的话语并不仅仅用我们的耳朵，而是用我们的心。我回答说：“主啊，会很难，但我愿意听 您的话语。”
然后主问我：“如果你是一个哑巴，你是否仍愿意赞美我的名？”
没有声音我如何能赞美呢？然而一句话启示了我：神希望我们从心底和灵魂的最深处发出赞美，他并不在乎我们的声音如何。于是我回 答说：“即使我不能发声，我仍将赞美您的名。”
没有声音我如何能赞美呢？然而一句话启示了我：神希望我们从心底和灵魂的最深处发出赞美，他并不在乎我们的声音如何。于是我回 答说：“即使我不能发声，我仍将赞美您的名。”
主又问我：“你真的爱我吗？”
带着勇气和信心，我大胆地回答说：“是的，主啊！我爱您是因您是那唯一的真神。” 我想我已经回答得很好了，但是……
带着勇气和信心，我大胆地回答说：“是的，主啊！我爱您是因您是那唯一的真神。” 我想我已经回答得很好了，但是……
神继续问我：“那么为什么你还犯罪？”
我回答说：“因为我是人，我不完全。”
“那为什么在平安无事的时候你迷失得那么远？在遭遇难处的时候你又那么殷勤地祷告 ？”
……没有回答，有的只是眼泪。
主又继续：“为什么你只在团契和教会中歌唱？为什么你只在敬拜的时候寻求我？为什么你每次都如此自私地只为自己求？为什么你求的时候没有信心？”
……
我的眼泪 顺着我的脖子一直往下流。
“为什么你以我为羞耻？为什么你不传福音？为什么在受逼迫的时候，你不靠着我的肩膀去哭泣却去靠着人的？为什么我给你机会去为我的名服事的时候，你总是找借口？”
……我尝试着去回答，但却无言以对。
“你的生活如此蒙祝福。是我不让你把如此好的救恩礼物扔掉。我保守你拥有聪明才智是为了让你服事我，但你却继续逃离我。我用我的话语启示你，但你却不在知识上
追求长进。我向你讲话，但你的耳朵却闭着。我把我的祝福倾注在你的身上，但你的眼目却离开这祝福。我派使者帮助你，但你却懒散地坐着把他们赶跑。我却听了
你的祷告并都 作了回答。”
“你真的爱我吗？”
我无法回答。我该如何回答呢？我在信仰上是如此的羞愧。我别无借口。我能说些什么呢？我的心开始哭泣，泪水涌出来，我说：“主啊，求能饶恕我。我不配作你的孩子。”
主回答说：“我的孩子，那是我的恩典。”
我回答说：“因为我是人，我不完全。”
“那为什么在平安无事的时候你迷失得那么远？在遭遇难处的时候你又那么殷勤地祷告 ？”
……没有回答，有的只是眼泪。
主又继续：“为什么你只在团契和教会中歌唱？为什么你只在敬拜的时候寻求我？为什么你每次都如此自私地只为自己求？为什么你求的时候没有信心？”
……
我的眼泪 顺着我的脖子一直往下流。
“为什么你以我为羞耻？为什么你不传福音？为什么在受逼迫的时候，你不靠着我的肩膀去哭泣却去靠着人的？为什么我给你机会去为我的名服事的时候，你总是找借口？”
……我尝试着去回答，但却无言以对。
“你的生活如此蒙祝福。是我不让你把如此好的救恩礼物扔掉。我保守你拥有聪明才智是为了让你服事我，但你却继续逃离我。我用我的话语启示你，但你却不在知识上
追求长进。我向你讲话，但你的耳朵却闭着。我把我的祝福倾注在你的身上，但你的眼目却离开这祝福。我派使者帮助你，但你却懒散地坐着把他们赶跑。我却听了
你的祷告并都 作了回答。”
“你真的爱我吗？”
我无法回答。我该如何回答呢？我在信仰上是如此的羞愧。我别无借口。我能说些什么呢？我的心开始哭泣，泪水涌出来，我说：“主啊，求能饶恕我。我不配作你的孩子。”
主回答说：“我的孩子，那是我的恩典。”
我问道：“那么您为什么一再原谅我呢 ？为什么您会如此爱我呢？”
主答道：“因为你是我所创造的，你是我的孩子。我永远不会撇弃你。当你哭泣的时候 ，我怜悯你， 我与你同哭泣。当你高兴地高呼时，我与你同笑。当你泄气时 ，我鼓励你。当你跌倒时，我扶起你。当你疲惫时，我背着你。我将与你同在直到最后的日子 ，并且我将永远爱你。”
我前所未有地伤心痛哭着。我怎能如此心硬呢？我怎么如此这般地伤神的心呢？
主答道：“因为你是我所创造的，你是我的孩子。我永远不会撇弃你。当你哭泣的时候 ，我怜悯你， 我与你同哭泣。当你高兴地高呼时，我与你同笑。当你泄气时 ，我鼓励你。当你跌倒时，我扶起你。当你疲惫时，我背着你。我将与你同在直到最后的日子 ，并且我将永远爱你。”
我前所未有地伤心痛哭着。我怎能如此心硬呢？我怎么如此这般地伤神的心呢？
最后我很想问神：“那么主啊，您爱我有多深呢？”
主没说话……只张开他的臂膀拥抱我，我看到他那钉痕的双手，这已经表明一切。
我在基督，我的救主脚下，深深地伏服下来。
第一次，我发自内心地祷告。无法形容的感恩，落下喜悦和惭愧的眼泪。。。
主没说话……只张开他的臂膀拥抱我，我看到他那钉痕的双手，这已经表明一切。
我在基督，我的救主脚下，深深地伏服下来。
第一次，我发自内心地祷告。无法形容的感恩，落下喜悦和惭愧的眼泪。。。
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Great power of tiny action
One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school.
His name was Kyle.
It looked like he was carrying all of his books.
I thought to myself, 'Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.'
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him.
They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt.
His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.
My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, 'Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.'
He looked at me and said, 'Hey thanks!'
There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.
He said he had gone to private school before now.
I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.
We talked all the way home, and I carried so me of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends
He said yes.
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.
Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.
I stopped him and said, 'Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!
'He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends..
When we were seniors we began to think about college.
Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke.
I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem.
He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd.
He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses.
He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous! Today was one of those days.
I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, 'Hey, big guy, you'll be great!'
He looked at me with one of those lo oks (the really grateful one) and smiled.
'Thanks,' he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began:
'Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends...
I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story.'
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the
story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
'Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.'
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me an d smiling that same grateful smile.
Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.
God puts us all in each others lives to impact one another in some way.
Look for God in others.
His name was Kyle.
It looked like he was carrying all of his books.
I thought to myself, 'Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd.'
I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.
As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him.
They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt.
His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him.
He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes.
My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.
As I handed him his glasses, I said, 'Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives.'
He looked at me and said, 'Hey thanks!'
There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.
I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before.
He said he had gone to private school before now.
I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.
We talked all the way home, and I carried so me of his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends
He said yes.
We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.
Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again.
I stopped him and said, 'Boy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!
'He just laughed and handed me half the books.
Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends..
When we were seniors we began to think about college.
Kyle decided on Georgetown and I was going to Duke.
I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem.
He was going to be a doctor and I was going for business on a football scholarship.
Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd.
He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak
Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses.
He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him. Boy, sometimes I was jealous! Today was one of those days.
I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, 'Hey, big guy, you'll be great!'
He looked at me with one of those lo oks (the really grateful one) and smiled.
'Thanks,' he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began:
'Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends...
I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story.'
I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the
story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.
'Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable.'
I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his Mom and dad looking at me an d smiling that same grateful smile.
Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.
Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse.
God puts us all in each others lives to impact one another in some way.
Look for God in others.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Repetition of Sin
Day 1
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost.
I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find my way out.
Day 2
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in.
I can't believe I am in the same place, but it wasn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out .
Day 3
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there. I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open. I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.
Day 4
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I walk around it.
Day 5
I walk down a different street.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost.
I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find my way out.
Day 2
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I pretend I don't see it.
I fall in.
I can't believe I am in the same place, but it wasn't my fault.
It still takes me a long time to get out .
Day 3
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it there. I still fall in. It's a habit.
My eyes are open. I know where I am.
It is my fault. I get out immediately.
Day 4
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk
I walk around it.
Day 5
I walk down a different street.
The Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.
Num 6:24-26
the Lord make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.
Num 6:24-26
Thursday, January 08, 2009
The Room...
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven.I know I'll see him."
Brian's Essay: The Room...
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.
I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?
You don't have to share this with anybody, no one will know whether you did or not, but you will know and so will He.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.
Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.
The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven.I know I'll see him."
Brian's Essay: The Room...
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.
Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.
I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.
And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.
No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.
He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.
He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way forward it so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?
You don't have to share this with anybody, no one will know whether you did or not, but you will know and so will He.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Teach the Children ( and also EVERYONE of us)
This is how it happened...I just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed, when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened the door to the front room and to my surprise, Santa himself stepped out from behind the Christmas tree.
He placed his finger over his mouth so I would not cry out. "What are you doing?" I started to ask. The words choked up in my throat, and I saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone. Gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know.
He then answered me with a simple statement.
"TEACH THE CHILDREN!"
I was puzzled; what did he mean? He anticipated my question, and with one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag from behind the tree. As I stood bewildered, Santa said,
"Teach the children! Teach them the old meaning of Christmas. The meaning that now-a-days Christmas has forgotten."
Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a FIR TREE and placed it before the mantle.
"Teach the children that the pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round, depicting the everlasting hope of mankind, all the needles point heavenward, making it a symbol of man's thoughts turning toward heaven."
He again reached into his bag and pulled out a brilliant STAR.
"Teach the children that the star was the heavenly sign of promises long ago. God promised a Savior for the world, and the star was the sign of fulfillment of His promise."
He then reached into his bag and pulled out a CANDLE.
"Teach the children that the candle symbolizes that Christ is the light of the world, and when we see this great light we are reminded of He who displaces the darkness."
Once again he reached into his bag and removed a WREATH and placed it on the tree.
"Teach the children that the wreath symbolizes the real nature of love. Real love never ceases. Love is one continuous round of affection."
He then pulled from his bag an ornament of himself.
"Teach the children that I, Santa Clause symbolize the generosity and good will we feel during the month of December."
He then brought out a HOLLY LEAF.
"Teach the children that the holly plant represents immortality. It represents the crown of thorns worn by our Savior. The red holly represents the blood shed by Him."
Next he pulled from his bag a GIFT and said,
"Teach the children that God so loved the world that HE gave HIS begotten SON..." "Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.
"Teach the children that the wise men bowed before the Holy BABE and presented HIM with gold, frankincense and myrrh. We should always give gifts in the same spirit of the wise men."
Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a CANDY CANE and hung it on the tree.
"Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherds' crook. The crook on the staff helps to bring back strayed sheep to the flock. The candy cane is the symbol that we are our brother's keeper."
He reached in again and pulled out an ANGEL.
"Teach the children that it was the angels that heralded in the glorious news of the Savior's birth. The angels sang 'Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good will toward men."
Suddenly I heard a soft twinkling sound, and from his bag he pulled out a BELL.
Santa looked back and was pleased. He looked back at me and I saw that the twinkle was back in his eyes. He said,
"Remember, teach the children the true meaning of Christmas and do not put me in the center, for I am but a humble servant of the One that is, and I bow down to worship HIM, our LORD, our GOD."
Thursday, July 31, 2008
08.07.08
今天，对那些朋友有点想放下，有一种不同道的感觉
可是，就是这种感觉让我觉得我更该在他们当中成为那一点的不同
我要坚持当我想要放弃的时候，我想到我当初刚到这的时候，神让我看见的
神让我看见，我要在这个地方张扬他的名，在这个地方成为那小小的芝麻，
为这里的人，为我的朋友开启那福音的门，引导他们进去
靠着我自己，我不能做什么；我是软弱的，我是缺乏，我是何等有限
我要靠着神，在这里为他作光作盐，并且作那不失味的盐
软弱，我会有；跌倒，我会有；失败，我会有；放弃，我会想；
但是，靠着神，
坚强，他加添；振作，他扶起；成功，他应许；重新，他带领；
所以我怕什么？我在想什么？
什么都不用怕，不用想，只要求神的国和神的义，这些东西都要加给我了！
可是，就是这种感觉让我觉得我更该在他们当中成为那一点的不同
我要坚持当我想要放弃的时候，我想到我当初刚到这的时候，神让我看见的
神让我看见，我要在这个地方张扬他的名，在这个地方成为那小小的芝麻，
为这里的人，为我的朋友开启那福音的门，引导他们进去
靠着我自己，我不能做什么；我是软弱的，我是缺乏，我是何等有限
我要靠着神，在这里为他作光作盐，并且作那不失味的盐
软弱，我会有；跌倒，我会有；失败，我会有；放弃，我会想；
但是，靠着神，
坚强，他加添；振作，他扶起；成功，他应许；重新，他带领；
所以我怕什么？我在想什么？
什么都不用怕，不用想，只要求神的国和神的义，这些东西都要加给我了！
Saturday, August 11, 2007
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
Value of a woman
A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?"
"Because I'm a woman," she told him.
"I don't understand," he said.
His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will."
Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?"
"All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.
The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.
Finally he put in a call to God.
When God got on the phone, he asked, "God, why do women cry so easily?"
God said:
"When I made the woman she had to be special.
I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world,
yet gentle enough to give comfort.
I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.
I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.
I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.
I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.
I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.
And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed."
"You see, my son," said God,
"the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides."
"Because I'm a woman," she told him.
"I don't understand," he said.
His Mom just hugged him and said, "And you never will."
Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?"
"All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.
The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.
Finally he put in a call to God.
When God got on the phone, he asked, "God, why do women cry so easily?"
God said:
"When I made the woman she had to be special.
I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world,
yet gentle enough to give comfort.
I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times comes from her children.
I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up, and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.
I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt her very badly.
I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.
I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.
And finally, I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed."
"You see, my son," said God,
"the beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart - the place where love resides."
Monday, May 01, 2006
What are 10 Things Young People Can Do For God?
1. Obey The Gospel of Christ
2. Keep thyself pure
3. Build a Christian personality
4. Lead others to Christ
5. Get a Christian Education
6. Prepare yourself for a decent profession
7. Build a Christian home
8. Prepare for Christian Leadership
9. Encourage and help others
10. Be faithful throughout your life
2. Keep thyself pure
3. Build a Christian personality
4. Lead others to Christ
5. Get a Christian Education
6. Prepare yourself for a decent profession
7. Build a Christian home
8. Prepare for Christian Leadership
9. Encourage and help others
10. Be faithful throughout your life
???LOVE???
Love is????.
The greatest things in the world
The comfort for a hungry soul
The shelter for homeless people
The cure for sick person
The hope in the midst of failure
Love Can?
Bring laughter into life
Turn enemies into friends
Make all things possible
And most important of all
It is God's love that saves us from our sins
The greatest things in the world
The comfort for a hungry soul
The shelter for homeless people
The cure for sick person
The hope in the midst of failure
Love Can?
Bring laughter into life
Turn enemies into friends
Make all things possible
And most important of all
It is God's love that saves us from our sins
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