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The Ragman

FineLinen

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Dear Zina....I pray for you all the time! I just found a wonderful word in the Greek text regarding trust. Did you know that trust in the Living One, among other things, is the ultimate tranquilizer?

Trust = Peitho=

http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=3982&version=kjv

The Rented Room

Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns-Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to outpatients at the clinic. One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door.I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body.

But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw.Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."

He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success; none seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face. I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments...

"For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning. "I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch.

I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag. When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body.
He told me he fished for aliving to support his daughter, her five children and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with a thanks to God for a blessing.

He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God forgiving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him.

When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded, and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, "Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind."

I told him he was welcome to come again. And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4 a.m., and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.

When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. "Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!

"Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But, oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness' would have been easier to bear. I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had! "My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, "and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden." She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body. "All this happened long ago -- and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.

The LORD does not look at the things man looks at!

[move]"Man takes note of the outer form, but the Lord Yahweh sees the heart."[/move]
 
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TheFirstNoelle

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I was in a Christian mime drama group at university, and one of our guys made a skit to express the Ragman story (it's called Ragman, ironically). It was totally mimed, and done to Michael W. Smith's "Agnus Dei" (the "Allelujah" song). It has 3 people, one at a time, coming out either blind, lame, or crying. The Jesus figure ends up going to each of them and taking their sorrows on himself. So he ends up blind, lame and crying, and then is crucifed, and then ressurected. It's hard to describe, but with the music it's really very moving.
 
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FineLinen

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Who I Am Makes A Difference

A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high school by telling them the difference they each made. She called each student to the front of the class, one at a time. First she told each of them how they had made a difference to her and the class.

Then she presented each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters, which read, "Who I Am Makes a Difference."

Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this acknowledgment ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about a week.

One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him with his career planning. He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out find somebody to honor, give them a blue ribbon, then give
them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."

Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius.

The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure." The junior executive took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart.

As he gave him the last extra ribbon, he said, "Would you do me a favor? Would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else? The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony going and find out how it affects people."

That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down. He said, "The most incredible thing happened to me today. I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius.

Imagine. He thinks I'm a creative genius. Then he put this blue ribbon that says: "Who I Am Makes a Difference, on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked me to find somebody else to honor. As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with this ribbon
and I thought about you.

I want to honor you. My days are really hectic and when I come home I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school and for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great kid and I love you!"

The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at his father and said through his tears, "Dad, earlier tonight I sat in my room and wrote a letter to you and Mom explaining why I had killed myself and asking you to forgive me. I was going to commit
suicide tonight after you were asleep. I just didn't think that you cared at all. The letter is upstairs. I don't think I need it after all."

His father walked upstairs and found a heartfelt letter full of anguish and pain. The envelope was addressed, "Mom and Dad."

The boss went back to work a changed man. He was no longer a grouch but made sure to let all his employees know that they made a difference. The junior executive helped several other young people with career planning and never forgot to let them know that they made a difference in his life...one being the boss's son.

And the young boy and his classmates learned a valuable lesson. Who you are DOES make difference!

http://mrmom.amaonline.com/special/whoiam.htm

[move]"For the Father Himself tenderly loves you."[/move]
 
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FineLinen

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I Always Have Jesus Before My Eyes -John Stanescu- (Romania: 1960's)

The Russian colonel entered the cell carrying the cane used for beating prisoners. As a director of the slave labor camp, he had been informed that someone had dared to preach the Gospel.

"Who is the culprit?" he demanded. When no one responded, he said, "Well, then all will be flogged."

He started at one end of the cell. Soon the air was filled with the usual yelling and tears. When he came to Stanescu, he said, "Not ready yet? Strip this minute!"

As he stood up, the Romanian deacon John Stanescu replied, "There is a God in heaven, and He will judge you." With this, John's fate was sealed. Everyone knew he would surely be beaten to death. There was a sudden hush.

At that moment, a guard entered saying, "Colonel Albon, you are called urgently to the office. Some high-ranking generals have come from the Ministry."

The Colonel left, saying to Stanescu, "We will see each other again soon."

However, things did not turn out as the colonel had planned. Communists hate and often jail each other for no reason, and the generals had come that day to arrest the colonel! After an hour, Colonel Albon was back in the call, this time as a prisoner.

Many inmates jumped at him to lynch him. But Stanescu jumped to his defense, shielding the defeated enemy with his own body. He received many blows himself as he protected the torturer from the flogged prisoners. Stanescu was a real priest, a royal priest.

A Christian prisoner later asked him, "Where did you get the power to do this?"

He replied, "I love Jesus ardently. I always have Him before my eyes. I also see Him in my enemy. It is Jesus who keeps them from doing even worse things. The grace of God brings about His blessings in the spiritual and the material realms. As His children, we do not have to be buffeted about by all the torments that afflict the world. Even when trouble comes, the sunlight of God is shining, and there is peace within us."

[move]"With the goal in view I eagerly push on to secure the prize of God's heavenly summons in Christ Jesus."[/move]
 
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Mitsuko

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Here's one I found:

Imagine, for a moment, that you are in England in the 16th century.
Here's the deal: You and some friends stole from some of the richest people of the time. Finally the group of you killed a nobleman while he was eating dinner with his family. Now, a month later, you all are in a cart with your hands and feet tied together so tight you can't move. You know that your head is about to be separated from your body, and you are so scared that you are shaking.
Suddenly the cart stops and the men are all taking off their hats and everyone kneels down. You see a royal carriage bearing the Queen, who had bestowed many honors upon the nobleman you killed. You decide she must be here to watch the execution. Your hands start trembling again.
Now imagine that the Queen takes off her crown and hands it to her attendants. She takes off the fancy layers of her clothing until she is only wearing a night shift. She comes over to the cart, requests a knife from the guard, and cuts one of your friends loose. Then another. Then you. The air is filled with uncertainty. She kindly asks you and your friends to jump out of the cart.
She climbs into the spot which you just left. She offers the guards a piece of rope and holds out her hands, and, with astonishment, he obeys her command to bind her hands together.
And she proceeds towards the executioner.
You, meanwhile, find yourself free to go.
Such is the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Hope you'll enjoy it! :D
 
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FineLinen

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Hi there Mitsuko we appreciate your contribution to the thread. Please stop by again to visit with us.

Forgiven

http://mrmom.amaonline.com/forgiven.htm

"You shared in His death...In Him you are sharing the miracle of rising again to new life....God has now made you to share in the very life of Christ! He has forgiven you all our sins; Christ has utterly wiped out the damning evidence of broken laws and commandments which always hung over our heads, and has completely annuled it by nailing it over His own head on the cross. And then, having drawn the sting of all the powers ranged against us, He exposed them, shattered, empty and defeated, in His final glorious triumphant act!"
 
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FineLinen

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Hi there Zina, how is our new driver doing? I will be leaving you again shortly for a couple of months on a mission of international significance: perhaps you can find a couple of things from the "pretty good site" and post it during my little absence. Let's have a word of prayer.....

[move] So far today, Oh God, I've done all right. I haven't lost my temper, haven't been grumpy, nasty or selfish. I'm really glad of that, but in a few minutes I'm going to get out of bed, and from then on, I'm probably going to need a lot of help. -Amen- [/move]

Nine Eye-Opening Ways To Boost Self Confidence

http://hoopsu.homestead.com/motivconfidence.html
 
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FineLinen

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The Face Of An Angel

Many years ago, when my children were ages 10 and 6, I went through a very trying time. I had just left my husband of 7 years, to escape abuse. I managed to get a job with a nursing home as an aide for the elderly and moved in with a "friend" to share living expenses. One afternoon, after work, I picked my girls up from the sitter, and we went to the fair for the afternoon. It was quite late, when we returned home, and the house was completely dark. I went to unlock the door, and discovered that my key wouldn't go in the lock but halfway. I kept trying for a few minutes, while my oldest daughter went to get a flashlight from the car. When she returned with it, we found that somehow the lock had been "stuffed" with sunflower seed shells. So we went around to the front door and tried to open it, with the same results. Thinking that one of the neighborhood children had been up to no-good, I didn't really give it much consideration.

I went around the house trying to find a window that might have been left open enough for me to boost my 10 year old through. No luck. All was locked up tight. So I returned to the back door, and broke out a pane of glass and reached in and unlocked the door. Not wanting the girls to pick up any of the glass in their shoes and track it into the house, I told them to sit on the porch for a minute while I swept up the glass. I grabbed the broom and dustpan from behind the door and started sweeping up the glass.

I heard a car pull into the driveway, and looked out to see two policemen walking up to the door. They inquired what I was doing, and why I had broken into the house. I explained the matter to them, and showed them the door locks. They then asked me for proof that I lived at that address, so I asked them to wait a minute, while I went to get my rent receipt and identification from inside the house. I then, for the first time, opened the door leading into the house itself.

Empty

Oh my, but I will never forget the shock of that moment. The house was empty! Other than a few things remaining on the back porch, everything was gone! I went through the house looking in each room in complete disbelief. In a daze, I went back outside where the officers were waiting and informed them that there was nothing left.

At this point, they were not buying any of my story. I could tell from their actions and tone of voice that they thought I was breaking into an empty house for some place to sleep.

I couldn't for the life of me remember the name of the owner of the house, or her phone number. After several minutes, of sitting on the steps in shock, I remembered the neighbor across the street was a good friend of the owners, and told that to the police officers. I asked if I could go ask her for the number, and they informed me that the incident call had originated from that address. I walked over with one of the officers, while the other stayed with my girls.

The neighbor was able to provide the owner's name and phone number, so the officers made the call. The owner was quite shocked to hear my story. As it turned out, my "friend" had been going through an eviction process through the courts when I moved in with her, and had lost the case. She had been ordered by the court to vacate the premises by 10 am on that date. The court order had been issued the same day I had paid her 1/2 of the rent and a deposit of $300.00.

The owner was very kind and understanding, but there was nothing she could do. The house had been rented already and the people were to move in the following weekend. She didn't press charges against me for breaking and entering and told me not to worry about replacing the pane of glass I had broken, since she had some extra panes from a previous time.

The officers let me go, and I went to gather my girls into the car. They were both exhausted and cold. Also, very frightened, because they thought their mamma was going to go to jail. I put them in the car and laid them on the back seat, covering them with my coat. They fell asleep almost instantly.

Everything Gone

I got into the car, and drove away. I didn't go far though, before I had to pull over as the tears took control. I couldn't believe it!! Everything we owned was gone. I had used up all our money moving in and paying my "friend" our share of costs. I had about $11.00 to my name. And payday was three days away. I knew very few people in town, as we had just moved there recently.

I realized that I was exhausted myself and had to be to work at 6 am the next morning, so I drove to the City Park and curled up in the front seat to sleep. Needless to say, I overslept, and called into work to apprise them of my situation. My supervisor was very understanding, but the best she could do was to see if payroll could issue my wages early. I went to sit back in the car with the girls until enough time had passed to call back. I was talking to the girls, explaining our situation to them, so that they wouldn't be afraid. During this time, there was a "street person" with a shopping cart, sort of lingering near by, looking in the garbage cans for aluminum cans, bottles, and any other item that might bring him some cash. I hadn't paid much attention to him, as I was used to "seeing" these people without really seeing them. They were just part of the back ground.

After 45 minutes or so had passed, I tried calling my supervisor to find out what the verdict was, with no results. So, I decided to go get the girls something to eat for breakfast. We grabbed some bread, lunchmeat and chips, and returned to the park-for a "picnic."

When we got there, and while I was again trying to call work, I noticed that the "hobo" wasn't alone. He was with a small group of others "like" him, and they were passing a hat amongst themselves.

I, again, had no luck with my call, so the girls and I grabbed our bag of groceries and headed over to a picnic table. We set our things down on the table and Tami, (my 6 year old) told me she needed to use the bathroom. So we walked to the restrooms--just a few feet from where we were. We cleaned up a little bit and returned to the table. On the way back, I tried the phone again. This time, I had success. I reached my supervisor and was informed that I could pick up my check at 1 PM that afternoon. Such a relief!!!

Dirty, Smelly, Unshaven

We sat down at the table, and I was busy setting up out little "picnic," when I heard a voice saying, "Ma'am, please excuse the intrusion, but...well..., I couldn't help but overhear the situation you are in, and well....., me and the fella's took up a collection for you and your little girls. It's not very much, but maybe it'll help a little." I looked up at this man,-- dirty, needing a shave, and smelling a bit "ripe"--and saw the face of an angel. I started crying. (Bawling...to be truthful)

The man tried to hand me something like $30.00, probably a small fortune to him and his friends. I folded his hand back over the money, and just hugged him as tight as I could. I told him, "Thank you very much for your more than generous offer, but we are going to be just fine." He didn't believe me at first, but I convinced him that it was okay.

Later, that afternoon, I picked up my paycheck and rented a room for the week, to give me and my girls a little time to work our situation out. Then I went to the market and bought the makings for a barbecue, and off to that little park we went. It didn't take us very long to find those gentlemen and invite them to join us for lunch, which they did. I had a wonderful afternoon that day, sitting there with those old "bums," singing songs while they drummed on the aluminum park table, and just talking to them. They had some of the most entertaining stories I've ever listened to, and they shared the dreams they once had. They shared of themselves...from the heart.

As long as I live, I will never forget that day, when God showed me what true generosity and giving meant. When he showed me LOVE comes from the most unexpected places, in the most unlikely way. Those old men will live in my heart and memories forever, as the richest people I ever knew, because they had enough love to share with a mother and her two daughters who would have never given them the time of day.

That was the day, I saw the face of an angel, and forever changed the way I view others.
 
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FineLinen

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The Faith Of A Child

Sally was only eight years old when she heard Mommy and Daddy talking about her little brother, Georgi. He was very sick and they had done everything they could afford to save his life. Only a very expensive surgery could help him now . . . and that was out of the financial question. She heard Daddy say it with a whispered desperation, "Only a miracle can save him now."

Sally went to her bedroom and pulled her piggy bank from its hiding place in the closet. She shook all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Tying the coins up in a cold-weather-kerchief, she slipped out of the apartment and made her way to the corner drug store.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her attention . . but he was too busy talking to another man to be bothered by an eight-year-old. Sally twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. She cleared her throat. No good. Finally she took a quarter from its hiding place and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!

"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice.

"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Sally answered back in the same annoyed tone. "He's sick . . . and I want to buy a miracle."

"I beg your pardon," said the pharmacist.

"My Daddy says only a miracle can save him now . . . so how much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I can't help you."

"Listen, I have the money to pay for it. Just tell me how much it costs."

The well-dressed man stooped down and asked, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?"

"I don't know," Sally answered. A tear started down her cheek. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my folks can't pay for it . . . so I have my money.

"How much do you have?" asked the well-dressed man.

"A dollar and eleven cents," Sally answered proudly. "And it's all the money I have in the world."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the well-dressed man. A dollar and eleven cents . . . the exact price of a miracle to save a little brother. He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents."

That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, renowned surgeon, specializing in solving Georgi's malady. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Georgi was home again and doing well. Mommy and Daddy were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.

"That surgery," Mommy whispered. "It's like a miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?

Sally smiled to herself. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... one dollar and eleven cents... plus the faith of a little child.
 
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FineLinen

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The Fan


Wade Boggs is a future hall of famer who played his greatest years for the Boston Red Sox. When he played third base for Boston, Boggs hated going to Yankee Stadium. Not because of the Yankees - but because of a fan. That's right: one "fan."

The guy had a box seat close to the field and when the Red Sox were in town he would torment Boggs by shouting obscenities and insults. It's hard to imagine one fan getting under a player's skin, but apparently this guy had the recipe.

One day before the game, as Boggs was warming up, the "fan" began his typical routine, yelling "Boggs, you stink" and variations on that theme. Boggs decided he'd had enough. He walked directly over to the man, who was sitting in the stands with his friends, and said, "Hey fella, are you the guy who's always yelling at me?" The man said, "Yeah, it's me. What are you going to do about it?"

Wade took a new baseball out of his pocket, autographed it, tossed it to the man, and went back to the field to continue his pre-game routine.

The man never yelled at Boggs again; in fact, he became one of Wades' biggest fans at Yankee Stadium.

[move]"If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat; if he is thirsty, give him water to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head, and the LORD will reward you." [/move]
 
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FineLinen

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Robert Matthews

"A few weeks before Sept 11th, my wife and I found out we were going to have our first child. She planned a trip out to California to visit her sister.

On our way to the airport, we prayed that God would grant my wife a safe trip and be with her. Shortly after I said 'Amen' we both heard a loud pop and the car shook violently. We had blown out a tire. I replaced the tire as quickly as I could, but we still missed her flight.

Both very upset, we drove home. I received a call from my father who was retired F.D.N.Y. He asked what my wife's flight number was, but
explained that we missed the flight. My father informed me that her flight
was the one that crashed into the southern tower.

I was too shocked to speak.

My father also had more news for me; he was going to help. 'This is not something I can just sit by for, I have to do something.' I was concerned for his safety, of course, but more because he had never given his life to Christ.

After a brief debate, I knew his mind was made up. Before he got off of the phone, he said, 'take good care of my grandchild.' Those were the last words I ever heard my father say; he died while helping in the rescue effort.

My joy that my prayer of safety for my wife had been answered quickly
became anger -- Anger at God, at my father, and at myself. I had gone
for nearly 2 years blaming God for taking my father away. My son would never know his grandfather, my father had never accepted Christ, and I never got to say good-bye.

Then something happened.

About 2 months ago, I was sitting at home with my wife and my son, when there was a knock on the door. I looked at my wife, but I could
tell she wasn't expecting anyone. I opened the door to a couple with a
small child. The man looked at me and asked if my father's name was Jake Matthews. I told him it was.

He quickly grabbed my hand and said,

"I never got the chance to meet your father, but it is an honor to meet his son."

He explained to me that his wife had worked in the World Trade Center and had been caught inside after the attack. She was pregnant and had been caught under debris. He then explained that my father had been the one to find his wife and free her. My eyes welled up with tears as I thought of my father giving his life for people like this.

He then said, 'There is something else you need to know.'

His wife then told me that as my father worked to free her, she talked to him and lead him to Christ. I began sobbing at the news. Now I know that when I get to heaven, my father will be standing beside Jesus to welcome me,
and that this family would be able to thank him themselves.

When their baby boy was born, they named him Jacob Matthew in honor
of the man who gave his life so mother and baby could live.

This story should help us to realize two things: First, that though it has
been two years since the attacks, we should never let it become a mere
tragic memory. And second, but most important, God is always in control.
We may not see the reason behind things, and we may never know this side
of heaven, but God is ALWAYS in control.
 
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FineLinen

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Are You Jesus?

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to a regional sales convention in Chicago. They had assured their wives that they would be home in plenty of time for Friday night's dinner.

In their rush, with tickets and brief-cases, one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked over a table which held a display of baskets of apples. Apples flew everywhere. Without stopping or looking back, they all managed to reach the plane in time for their nearly missed boarding.

All but one. He paused, took a deep breath, got in touch with his feelings, and experienced a twinge of compassion for the girl whose apple stand had been overturned.


He told his buddies to go on without him, waved goodbye, told one of them to call his wife when they arrived at their home destination and explain his taking a later flight. Then he returned to the terminal where the apples were all over the terminal floor.

He was glad he did.

The 16 year old girl was totally blind! She was softly crying, tears running down her cheeks in frustration, and at the same time helplessly groping for her spilled produce as the crowd swirled about her, no one stopping, and no one to care for her plight.

The salesman knelt on the floor with her, gathered up the apples, put them into the baskets, and helped set the display up once more. As he did this, he noticed that many of them had become battered and bruised; these he set aside in another basket.

When he had finished, he pulled out his wallet and said to the girl, "Here, please take this $20 for the damage we did. Are you okay?"

She nodded through her tears. He continued on with, "I hope we didn't spoil your day too badly."

As the salesman started to walk away, the bewildered blind girl called out to him, "Mister...." He paused and turned to look back into those blind eyes.

She continued, "Are you Jesus?"

He stopped in mid-stride, and he wondered. Then slowly he made his way to catch the later flight with that question burning and bouncing about in his soul: "Are you Jesus?"

Do people mistake you for Jesus?

That's our destiny, is it not? To be so much like Jesus that people cannot tell the difference as we live and interact with a world that is blind to His love, life and grace.

If we claim to know Him, we should live, walk and act as He would. Knowing Him is more than simply quoting Scripture and going to church. It's actually living the Word as life unfolds day to day.
 
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FineLinen

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Did You Know?

As you walk up the steps to the Capitol Building which houses the U.S. Senate and the House of Delegates, you can see near the top of the building a row of the world's law givers and each one is facing one in the middle who is facing forward with a full frontal view - it is Moses and the Ten Commandments!

As you enter the Supreme Court courtroom, the two huge oak doors have the Ten Commandments engraved on each lower portion of each door. As you sit inside the courtroom, you can see the wall right above where the Supreme Court judges sit a display of the Ten Commandments!

There are Bible verses etched in stone all over the Federal Buildings and Monuments in Washington, D.C.

James Madison, the fourth president, known as "The Father of Our Constitution" made the following statement, "We have staked the whole of all our political institutions upon the capacity of mankind for self-government, upon the capacity of each and all of us to govern ourselves, to control ourselves, to sustain ourselves according to the Ten Commandments of God."

Patrick Henry, that patriot and Founding Father of our country said, "It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great nation was founded not by religionists but by Christians, not on religions but on the Gospel of Jesus Christ".

Every session of Congress begins with a prayer by a paid preacher, whose salary has been paid by the taxpayer since 1777.

Fifty-two of the fifty-five founders of the Constitution were members of the established orthodox churches in the colonies.

Thomas Jefferson worried that the Courts would overstep their authority and instead of interpreting the law would begin making law....an oligarchy....the rule of few over many.

The very first Supreme Court Justice, John Jay, said, "Americans should select and prefer Christians as their rulers."

How then, have we gotten to the point that everything we have done for 200 years in this country is now suddenly wrong and unconstitutional?
 
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