i love these stories so much. i read one and choke back the tears, and then read another. what a blessing they are. it just goes to show you how much God loves us.
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CF has always been a site that welcomes people from different backgrounds and beliefs to participate in discussion and even debate. That is the nature of its ministry. In view of recent events emotions are running very high. We need to remind people of some basic principles in debating on this site. We need to be civil when we express differences in opinion. No personal attacks. Avoid you, your statements. Don't characterize an entire political party with comparisons to Fascism or Communism or other extreme movements that committed atrocities. CF is not the place for broad brush or blanket statements about groups and political parties. Put the broad brushes and blankets away when you come to CF, better yet, put them in the incinerator. Debate had no place for them. We need to remember that people that commit acts of violence represent themselves or a small extreme faction.
The Ragman
- Thread starter FineLinen
- Start date
THE STORY BEHIND THE PICTURE OF THE PRAYING HANDS
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
I Have A Dream
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two the elder children, Albrecht and Albert, had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
The Pact
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won
the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.
Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his
commissioned works.
My Beloved Brother
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were,
"And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over,
"No ...no ...no ...no."
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ...for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors,
charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
Hands
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love
"The Praying Hands."
No One Makes It Alone
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!
Back in the fifteenth century, in a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen! In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood.
I Have A Dream
Despite their seemingly hopeless condition, two the elder children, Albrecht and Albert, had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them to Nuremberg to study at the Academy.
The Pact
After many long discussions at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings, support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who won
the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also by laboring in the mines.
They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg.
Albert went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable fees for his
commissioned works.
My Beloved Brother
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were,
"And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over,
"No ...no ...no ...no."
Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then, holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ...for me it is too late."
More than 450 years have passed. By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point sketches, watercolors,
charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people, are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
Hands
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed, Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands," but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece and renamed his tribute of love
"The Praying Hands."
No One Makes It Alone
The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, if you still need one, that no one - no one - - ever makes it alone!
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Geese or Sparrows?
Watching a flock of Canada geese fly over in precise V-formation is an enthralling sight? How do you suppose they do that? Do they attend V-formation flying school when they are young? I can just see a older goose projecting a PowerPoint presentation against a birch tree and explaining to the younger birds that they must fly two feet to the outside wing of the goose in front of them, one foot behind and eighteen inches above its flight path so it will impress the humans below.
Why A "V" Formation?
No, geese fly in a V-formation because flying in that exact spot allows them to fly in smoother air with less effort. If a goose falls out of position it immediately feels the added stress of flying on its own and moves pack into position. Scientists estimate that by drafting on the wake of the goose in front of them the entire flock is able to fly 71% further than each of them could fly individually. To accomplish this incredible feat the stronger birds in the flock will rotate the lead position so that no one bird wears out.
According to N.A.S.A....
This allows a flock of birds with differing abilities to fly at a constant speed with a common endurance.
The reason you never see a flock of sparrows fly in V-formation...
Iis because they are not going anywhere. They flit around the yard from tree to tree, but at the end of the day they are in the same area. They could try to learn to fly in a V-formation, but by the time they got the formation together they would already be to the next tree and not need it.
A Few Thoughts
The same is true about fellowship. If Christianity is about rituals, routines and morals, our fellowship will suffer. We can rearrange our groupings or try a number of novel small-group techniques, but they will be as awkward as sparrows trying to fly in formation. But when Christianity is a life of growing dependence on God through the joys and challenges of our circumstances, pooling our wisdom becomes a natural extension of that life for us as it is for geese to fly in formation. When God is more real to you than the weather and the events of your day, you'll find him filling your conversations and fellowship will be immediate, powerful and alive.
-Author Unknown-
"We must die, and are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God does not take away life; instead He deviseth ways for the banished to be restored."
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/h/a/haillord.htm
Watching a flock of Canada geese fly over in precise V-formation is an enthralling sight? How do you suppose they do that? Do they attend V-formation flying school when they are young? I can just see a older goose projecting a PowerPoint presentation against a birch tree and explaining to the younger birds that they must fly two feet to the outside wing of the goose in front of them, one foot behind and eighteen inches above its flight path so it will impress the humans below.
Why A "V" Formation?
No, geese fly in a V-formation because flying in that exact spot allows them to fly in smoother air with less effort. If a goose falls out of position it immediately feels the added stress of flying on its own and moves pack into position. Scientists estimate that by drafting on the wake of the goose in front of them the entire flock is able to fly 71% further than each of them could fly individually. To accomplish this incredible feat the stronger birds in the flock will rotate the lead position so that no one bird wears out.
According to N.A.S.A....
This allows a flock of birds with differing abilities to fly at a constant speed with a common endurance.
The reason you never see a flock of sparrows fly in V-formation...
Iis because they are not going anywhere. They flit around the yard from tree to tree, but at the end of the day they are in the same area. They could try to learn to fly in a V-formation, but by the time they got the formation together they would already be to the next tree and not need it.
A Few Thoughts
The same is true about fellowship. If Christianity is about rituals, routines and morals, our fellowship will suffer. We can rearrange our groupings or try a number of novel small-group techniques, but they will be as awkward as sparrows trying to fly in formation. But when Christianity is a life of growing dependence on God through the joys and challenges of our circumstances, pooling our wisdom becomes a natural extension of that life for us as it is for geese to fly in formation. When God is more real to you than the weather and the events of your day, you'll find him filling your conversations and fellowship will be immediate, powerful and alive.
-Author Unknown-
"We must die, and are like water spilled on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again. But God does not take away life; instead He deviseth ways for the banished to be restored."
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/h/a/haillord.htm
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Friends...The following link will take a short time to load but is worth the wait. Please turn on your audio and make this a great day!
A State Of Being
http://greatday.com/v.html?0443fZtdYD38
A State Of Being
http://greatday.com/v.html?0443fZtdYD38
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kimber1
mean people suck
- Feb 25, 2003
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Linen, i just have to say what a huge blessing you are to me!! I have just sat here for the last couple of hours reading through your entire thread and those stories just about all gave me goosebumps!!! Continue please!! 
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I have always loved this true story about John Wesley:
Although Wesley found it natural to approach the Gospel with habits of thought formed by a classical education, he was quick to recognize the value of other approaches. The early Methodist meetings were often led by lay preachers with very limited education. On one occasion, such a preacher took as his text Luke 19:21, "Lord, I feared thee, because thou art an austere man." Not knowing the word "austere," he thought that the text spoke of "an oyster man." He spoke about the work of those who retrieve oysters from the sea-bed. The diver plunges down from the surface, cut off from his natural environment, into bone-chilling water. He gropes in the dark, cutting his hands on the sharp edges of the shells. Now he has the oyster, and kicks back up to the surface, up to the warmth and light and air, clutching in his torn and bleeding hands the object of his search. So Christ descended from the glory of heaven into the squalor of earth, into sinful human society, in order to retrieve humans and bring them back up with Him to the glory of heaven, His torn and bleeding hands a sign of the value He has placed on the object of His quest. Twelve men were converted that evening. Afterwards, someone complained to Wesley about the inappropriateness of allowing preachers who were too ignorant to know the meaning of the texts they were preaching on. Wesley, simply said, "Never mind, the Lord got a dozen oysters tonight."
Although Wesley found it natural to approach the Gospel with habits of thought formed by a classical education, he was quick to recognize the value of other approaches. The early Methodist meetings were often led by lay preachers with very limited education. On one occasion, such a preacher took as his text Luke 19:21, "Lord, I feared thee, because thou art an austere man." Not knowing the word "austere," he thought that the text spoke of "an oyster man." He spoke about the work of those who retrieve oysters from the sea-bed. The diver plunges down from the surface, cut off from his natural environment, into bone-chilling water. He gropes in the dark, cutting his hands on the sharp edges of the shells. Now he has the oyster, and kicks back up to the surface, up to the warmth and light and air, clutching in his torn and bleeding hands the object of his search. So Christ descended from the glory of heaven into the squalor of earth, into sinful human society, in order to retrieve humans and bring them back up with Him to the glory of heaven, His torn and bleeding hands a sign of the value He has placed on the object of His quest. Twelve men were converted that evening. Afterwards, someone complained to Wesley about the inappropriateness of allowing preachers who were too ignorant to know the meaning of the texts they were preaching on. Wesley, simply said, "Never mind, the Lord got a dozen oysters tonight."
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Fine Linen, I have enjoyed your stories so much that I hope you don't mind me adding the above story to your thread. God bless you!
-Stephen
-Stephen
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kimber1 said:Linen, i just have to say what a huge blessing you are to me!! I have just sat here for the last couple of hours reading through your entire thread and those stories just about all gave me goosebumps!!! Continue please!!
Kimber1...Thankyou for stopping in. Due to the recent implosion of the threads, a goodly number of the stories have gone into another state.... Hopefully we can resurrect them in due time. Much thanks for the kindly words; it has been a pleasure being in this little corner of His World.
"Eternal life is something which can start here and now. Eternal life is the injection into the realm of time of something of the realm of eternity; it is the coming into human life of something of the life of God himself. It is the promise of God that if a man chooses to live life with Jesus Christ, heaven begins on earth. Into man's trouble and frustration there come the peace and power of God." -Dr. William Barclay-
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stephen1964 said:
Stephen1964....My friend, the purpose of this thread is to present hope and encouragement. I have truly appreciated the story you have presented to us today...much thanks. Please drop by again with anything that will continue to enhance our Father's gracious Being. May His rich Presence continue to lead you into His unspeakable glory....David
I like the quote from Samuel Rutherford who declared....
"When I am in the cellar of affliction, I look for the Lord's finest wines."
"Fine wines and fine pearls of our Father are produced in the crushing of the grapes and wounding in the Oyster fields of His Presence." David E.L. Johnson
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The Gift
Sometimes the most important gifts are given unwittingly. I set about checking the instruments in preparation for my last flight of the day, a short hop from Atlanta to Macon, Ga. It was 7:30 P.M. Christmas Eve, but instead of forking into Mom's turkey dinner, I was busy getting other people home to their families.
A Rustle Behind Me
Above the low buzz of talking passengers, I heard a rustle behind me. I looked over my shoulder. Just outside the cockpit doorway was a fresh-faced boy of about nine gazing intently at the flight deck. At my glance he started to turn away.
"Hold up," I called. "Come on in here."
I had been about his age when I first saw a flight panel lit up like a Christmas tree and I could hardly wait to get my pilot's wings. But now that I was 24 and first officer at a commuter airline, I wondered if I'd made the right choice. Here I was spending my first Christmas Eve away from home, and what was I accomplishing? How was I making my mark in the world, let alone doing God's work, just hauling people from city to city?
Sam
The boy stepped cautiously into the cockpit.
"My name's Chad," I said, sticking out my hand.
With a shy smile he put his hand in mine. "I'm Sam." He turned to the empty seat beside me.
"Is that for the captain?"
"It sure is and that's where Captain Jim sits." I patted the worn fabric. "Would you like to try it out?"
Sam blinked at me from under his ball cap. "I don't know . . . I mean . . .well, sure if it's okay." I lowered the seat so he could slide into it. The captain loved to give demonstrations of the plane's gadgets to kids, but what would he think about one sitting in his seat? Well, it's Christmas, I thought.
I glanced out at the luggage carts being wheeled toward the plane, thinking of the gifts I wouldn't be able to give in person to my parents and friends the next day. Sam told me he and his family had flown in from Memphis.
I checked my watch. The captain would be in any minute, but Sam looked so thrilled, I didn't want to cut short his fun. I gave the instrument panel another once-over, telling Sam what each button and lever did.
Finally Captain Jim clambered aboard. "Howdy, partner." He gave Sam a broad grin. "You know, son," he drawled, "I don't mind you staying with us for a while if you'll switch with me." Sam let the captain take his place and I made introductions.
We began previewing the startup checklist. I kept thinking the captain would send Sam away, but the boy was still peering over my shoulder when the ramp agent radioed to ask if we were ready to turn on the first engine in start sequence, number four.
I relayed the question to the captain, who was studying the weather reports.
"I'm still going over these," he said. "You guys go ahead and start it."
"Okay, starting . . ."I said, positioning the switches. Then I did a double take. "Did you say 'you guys'?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
I looked over at the captain, and back at the flight panel. "Right." I flicked on the plane's flashing red beacon to signal the start.
Then I turned to my new assistant.
"You ever start an airplane before, Sam?"
Eyes wide, he shook his head. Following my instructions, Sam carefully turned a knob on the overhead console that switched on the igniters. Then he pressed a button as big as his hand to start the engine. Finally, with both hands he slid forward a lever to introduce the fuel. The engine hummed to life.
Sam slowly let go of the lever and stepped back, awestruck. He'd gotten to start an airplane, an honest-to-goodness airliner. I'm not sure if I'd have believed it myself at his age. I thanked Sam for helping us out.
"No, thank you, sir," Sam said. "This was really great!"
As he backed out of the doorway into the cabin, the plane resonated with the sound of the engine he'd started. "You have a merry Christmas, son, you hear?" the captain said.
Sam looked like he was about to cry with happiness.
"I will, sir, I will. Thank you!" With one last look at the flight deck he turned and walked down the aisle. We started up the other engines, took off, and arrived in Macon about 40 minutes later.
Early Christmas morning, as we settled into the cockpit for the trip back to Atlanta, one of the gate agents ducked in. "Hey, guys, some kid's mother came by this morning. She wanted to make sure I thanked you for showing her son around last night. Said he couldn't stop talking about the cockpit. She left this for you."
The gate agent set a red tin on the center console.
"Well, I'll be," the captain said. He bit into one of the chocolate chip cookies from the tin. Then he unfolded the note taped to its cover and read it silently.
He sighed deeply and turned to me, "Boy's got cancer," he said, and read the note aloud:
Dear Sirs,
Thank you for allowing Sam to watch you work on Christmas Eve night. Sam has cancer and has been undergoing chemotherapy in Memphis. This is the first time he has been home since the treatment began. We drove Sam up to the hospital, but since he loves airplanes, we decided to fly him back home. I am not sure if he will ever get to fly again. His doctor has said that Sam may have only a few months left. Sam has always dreamed of becoming an airline pilot. The flight we took from Memphis to Atlanta was exhilarating for him. He wasn't sure flying on one of your "little" airplanes would be as much fun, but you two gentlemen gave him the greatest Christmas gift imaginable. For a few short minutes his dream came true, thanks to you.
I looked out at the runway gleaming before us in the sun. When I turned back to Jim, he was still staring at the note. A flight attendant came in and said the passengers were ready for departure. She stowed the cookies away and we went through the checklist. Then Captain Jim cleared his throat and called out, "Starting number four."
I'd wanted to be home with my loved ones, exchanging gifts for the holidays. But that little boy showed me that sometimes the most important gifts we give are given unwittingly and the most precious ones we get come from strangers. I can serve God's purpose no matter where I am, as long as I let the spirit that moved me that night guide me always.
Sometimes the most important gifts are given unwittingly. I set about checking the instruments in preparation for my last flight of the day, a short hop from Atlanta to Macon, Ga. It was 7:30 P.M. Christmas Eve, but instead of forking into Mom's turkey dinner, I was busy getting other people home to their families.
A Rustle Behind Me
Above the low buzz of talking passengers, I heard a rustle behind me. I looked over my shoulder. Just outside the cockpit doorway was a fresh-faced boy of about nine gazing intently at the flight deck. At my glance he started to turn away.
"Hold up," I called. "Come on in here."
I had been about his age when I first saw a flight panel lit up like a Christmas tree and I could hardly wait to get my pilot's wings. But now that I was 24 and first officer at a commuter airline, I wondered if I'd made the right choice. Here I was spending my first Christmas Eve away from home, and what was I accomplishing? How was I making my mark in the world, let alone doing God's work, just hauling people from city to city?
Sam
The boy stepped cautiously into the cockpit.
"My name's Chad," I said, sticking out my hand.
With a shy smile he put his hand in mine. "I'm Sam." He turned to the empty seat beside me.
"Is that for the captain?"
"It sure is and that's where Captain Jim sits." I patted the worn fabric. "Would you like to try it out?"
Sam blinked at me from under his ball cap. "I don't know . . . I mean . . .well, sure if it's okay." I lowered the seat so he could slide into it. The captain loved to give demonstrations of the plane's gadgets to kids, but what would he think about one sitting in his seat? Well, it's Christmas, I thought.
I glanced out at the luggage carts being wheeled toward the plane, thinking of the gifts I wouldn't be able to give in person to my parents and friends the next day. Sam told me he and his family had flown in from Memphis.
I checked my watch. The captain would be in any minute, but Sam looked so thrilled, I didn't want to cut short his fun. I gave the instrument panel another once-over, telling Sam what each button and lever did.
Finally Captain Jim clambered aboard. "Howdy, partner." He gave Sam a broad grin. "You know, son," he drawled, "I don't mind you staying with us for a while if you'll switch with me." Sam let the captain take his place and I made introductions.
We began previewing the startup checklist. I kept thinking the captain would send Sam away, but the boy was still peering over my shoulder when the ramp agent radioed to ask if we were ready to turn on the first engine in start sequence, number four.
I relayed the question to the captain, who was studying the weather reports.
"I'm still going over these," he said. "You guys go ahead and start it."
"Okay, starting . . ."I said, positioning the switches. Then I did a double take. "Did you say 'you guys'?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
I looked over at the captain, and back at the flight panel. "Right." I flicked on the plane's flashing red beacon to signal the start.
Then I turned to my new assistant.
"You ever start an airplane before, Sam?"
Eyes wide, he shook his head. Following my instructions, Sam carefully turned a knob on the overhead console that switched on the igniters. Then he pressed a button as big as his hand to start the engine. Finally, with both hands he slid forward a lever to introduce the fuel. The engine hummed to life.
Sam slowly let go of the lever and stepped back, awestruck. He'd gotten to start an airplane, an honest-to-goodness airliner. I'm not sure if I'd have believed it myself at his age. I thanked Sam for helping us out.
"No, thank you, sir," Sam said. "This was really great!"
As he backed out of the doorway into the cabin, the plane resonated with the sound of the engine he'd started. "You have a merry Christmas, son, you hear?" the captain said.
Sam looked like he was about to cry with happiness.
"I will, sir, I will. Thank you!" With one last look at the flight deck he turned and walked down the aisle. We started up the other engines, took off, and arrived in Macon about 40 minutes later.
Early Christmas morning, as we settled into the cockpit for the trip back to Atlanta, one of the gate agents ducked in. "Hey, guys, some kid's mother came by this morning. She wanted to make sure I thanked you for showing her son around last night. Said he couldn't stop talking about the cockpit. She left this for you."
The gate agent set a red tin on the center console.
"Well, I'll be," the captain said. He bit into one of the chocolate chip cookies from the tin. Then he unfolded the note taped to its cover and read it silently.
He sighed deeply and turned to me, "Boy's got cancer," he said, and read the note aloud:
Dear Sirs,
Thank you for allowing Sam to watch you work on Christmas Eve night. Sam has cancer and has been undergoing chemotherapy in Memphis. This is the first time he has been home since the treatment began. We drove Sam up to the hospital, but since he loves airplanes, we decided to fly him back home. I am not sure if he will ever get to fly again. His doctor has said that Sam may have only a few months left. Sam has always dreamed of becoming an airline pilot. The flight we took from Memphis to Atlanta was exhilarating for him. He wasn't sure flying on one of your "little" airplanes would be as much fun, but you two gentlemen gave him the greatest Christmas gift imaginable. For a few short minutes his dream came true, thanks to you.
I looked out at the runway gleaming before us in the sun. When I turned back to Jim, he was still staring at the note. A flight attendant came in and said the passengers were ready for departure. She stowed the cookies away and we went through the checklist. Then Captain Jim cleared his throat and called out, "Starting number four."
I'd wanted to be home with my loved ones, exchanging gifts for the holidays. But that little boy showed me that sometimes the most important gifts we give are given unwittingly and the most precious ones we get come from strangers. I can serve God's purpose no matter where I am, as long as I let the spirit that moved me that night guide me always.
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The Oyster Man
Although Charles Wesley found it natural to approach the Gospel with habits of thought formed by a classical education, he was quick to recognize the value of other approaches.
The early Methodist meetings were often led by lay preachers with very limited education. On one occasion, such a preacher took as his text Luke 19:21, "Lord, I feared thee, because thou art an austere man." Not knowing the word "austere," he thought that the text spoke of "an oyster man."
He spoke about the work of those who retrieve oysters from the sea-bed. The diver plunges down from the surface, cut off from his natural environment, into bone-chilling water. He gropes in the dark, cutting his hands on the sharp edges of the shells. Now he has the oyster, and kicks back up to the surface, up to the warmth and light and air, clutching in his torn and bleeding hands the object of his search. So Christ descended from the glory of heaven into the squalor of earth, into sinful human society, in order to retrieve humans and bring them back up with Him to the glory of heaven, His torn and bleeding hands a sign of the value He has placed on the object of His quest.
It is not by might, not by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord.
Twelve men were converted that evening. Afterwards, someone complained to Wesley about the inappropriateness of allowing preachers who were too ignorant to know the meaning of the texts they were preaching on. Wesley, simply said, "Never mind, the Lord got a dozen oysters tonight."
Thank-you Stephen1964
Although Charles Wesley found it natural to approach the Gospel with habits of thought formed by a classical education, he was quick to recognize the value of other approaches.
The early Methodist meetings were often led by lay preachers with very limited education. On one occasion, such a preacher took as his text Luke 19:21, "Lord, I feared thee, because thou art an austere man." Not knowing the word "austere," he thought that the text spoke of "an oyster man."
He spoke about the work of those who retrieve oysters from the sea-bed. The diver plunges down from the surface, cut off from his natural environment, into bone-chilling water. He gropes in the dark, cutting his hands on the sharp edges of the shells. Now he has the oyster, and kicks back up to the surface, up to the warmth and light and air, clutching in his torn and bleeding hands the object of his search. So Christ descended from the glory of heaven into the squalor of earth, into sinful human society, in order to retrieve humans and bring them back up with Him to the glory of heaven, His torn and bleeding hands a sign of the value He has placed on the object of His quest.
It is not by might, not by power, but by My Spirit says the Lord.
Twelve men were converted that evening. Afterwards, someone complained to Wesley about the inappropriateness of allowing preachers who were too ignorant to know the meaning of the texts they were preaching on. Wesley, simply said, "Never mind, the Lord got a dozen oysters tonight."
Thank-you Stephen1964
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A Story To Live By
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package.
"This," he said, "isnt a slip, this is lingerie."
He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace.
The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.
"Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago.
She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion."
He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me.
"Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death.
I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives.
I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done.
I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.
I'm reading more and dusting less.
I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the
weeds in the garden .
I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in
committee meetings.
Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure.
I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything;
we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.
I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing.
I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as
my party-going friends.
Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary.
If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.
I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. It's those little things left undone that would make menagerie if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom
I was going to get in touch with-someday.
Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days.
Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough
how much I truly love them.
I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.
Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.
-Ann Wells- (Los Angeles Times)
My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister's bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package.
"This," he said, "isnt a slip, this is lingerie."
He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace.
The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached.
"Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago.
She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion."
He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me.
"Don't ever save anything for a special occasion. Every day you're alive is a special occasion."
I remembered those words through the funeral and the days that followed when I helped him and my niece attend to all the sad chores that follow an unexpected death.
I thought about them on the plane returning to California from the Midwestern town where my sister's family lives.
I thought about all the things that she hadn't seen or heard or done.
I thought about the things that she had done without realizing that they were special.
I'm still thinking about his words, and they've changed my life.
I'm reading more and dusting less.
I'm sitting on the deck and admiring the view without fussing about the
weeds in the garden .
I'm spending more time with my family and friends and less time in
committee meetings.
Whenever possible, life should be a pattern of experience to savor, not endure.
I'm trying to recognize these moments now and cherish them.
I'm not "saving" anything;
we use our good china and crystal for every special event-such as losing a pound, getting the sink unstopped, the first camellia blossom.
I wear my good blazer to the market if I feel like it. My theory is if I look prosperous, I can shell out $28.49 for one small bag of groceries without wincing.
I'm not saving my good perfume for special parties; clerks in hardware stores and tellers in banks have noses that function as well as
my party-going friends.
Someday" and "one of these days" are losing their grip on my vocabulary.
If it's worth seeing or hearing or doing, I want to see and hear and do it now.
I'm not sure what my sister would have done had she known that she wouldn't be here for the tomorrow we all take for granted. It's those little things left undone that would make menagerie if I knew that my hours were limited. Angry because I put off seeing good friends whom
I was going to get in touch with-someday.
Angry because I hadn't written certain letters that I intended to write-one of these days.
Angry and sorry that I didn't tell my husband and daughter often enough
how much I truly love them.
I'm trying very hard not to put off, hold back, or save anything that would add laughter and luster to our lives.
And every morning when I open my eyes, I tell myself that it is special.
Every day, every minute, every breath truly is...a gift from God.
-Ann Wells- (Los Angeles Times)
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Gina, I have missed you! Tomorrow as you know is America's Birthday. Take a few moments and enjoy the card....
http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?code=1505226923
Bless God, America!
http://www.jacquielawson.com/viewcard.asp?code=1505226923
Bless God, America!
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EXPLANATION OF GOD
This was written by an 8 year old, Danny Dutton of Chula Vista, CA, for his third grade homework assignment. The assignment was to explain God.
"One of God's main jobs is making people.
He makes them to replace the ones that die, so there will be enough people to take care of things on earth. He doesn't make grown-ups, just babies. I think because they are smaller and easier to make. That way He doesn't have to take up His valuable time teaching them to talk and walk. He can just leave that to mothers and fathers."
"God's second most important job is listening to prayers.
An awful lot of this goes on, since some people, like preachers and things, pray at times beside bedtime. God doesn't have time to listen to the radio or TV because of this. Because He hears everything, there must be a terrible lot of noise in His ears, unless He has thought of a way to turn it off."
"God sees everything and hears everything and is everywhere which keeps Him pretty busy.
So you shouldn't go wasting His time by going over your Mom and Dad's head asking for something they said you couldn't have."
"Atheists are people who don't believe in God.
I don't think there are any in Chula Vista. At least there aren't any who come to our church."
"Jesus is God's Son.
He used to do all the hard work like walking on water and performing miracles and trying to teach the people who didn't want to learn about God. They finally got tired of Him preaching to them and they crucified Him. But He was good and kind, like His Father and He told His Father that they didn't know what they were doing and to forgive them and God said O.K."
"His Dad (God) appreciated everything that He had done and all His hard work on earth so He told Him He didn't have to go out on the road anymore. He could stay in heaven. So He did. And now He helps His Dad out by listening to prayers and seeing things which are important for God to take care of and which ones He can take care of
Himself without having to bother God. Like a secretary, only more important."
"You can pray anytime you want and they are sure to help you because they got it worked out so one of them is on duty all the time."
"You should always go to church on Sunday because it makes God happy, and if there's anybody you want to make happy, it's God.
Don't skip church or do something you think will be more fun like going to the beach. This is wrong. And besides the sun doesn't come out at the beach until noon anyway."
"If you don't believe in God, besides being an atheist, you will be very lonely, because your parents can't go everywhere with you, like to camp, but God can.
It is good to know He's around you when you're scared in the dark or when you can't swim and you get thrown into real deep water by big kids."
"But...you shouldn't just always think of what God can do for you. I figure God put me here and He can take me back anytime He pleases. And...that's why I believe in God."
This was written by an 8 year old, Danny Dutton of Chula Vista, CA, for his third grade homework assignment. The assignment was to explain God.
"One of God's main jobs is making people.
He makes them to replace the ones that die, so there will be enough people to take care of things on earth. He doesn't make grown-ups, just babies. I think because they are smaller and easier to make. That way He doesn't have to take up His valuable time teaching them to talk and walk. He can just leave that to mothers and fathers."
"God's second most important job is listening to prayers.
An awful lot of this goes on, since some people, like preachers and things, pray at times beside bedtime. God doesn't have time to listen to the radio or TV because of this. Because He hears everything, there must be a terrible lot of noise in His ears, unless He has thought of a way to turn it off."
"God sees everything and hears everything and is everywhere which keeps Him pretty busy.
So you shouldn't go wasting His time by going over your Mom and Dad's head asking for something they said you couldn't have."
"Atheists are people who don't believe in God.
I don't think there are any in Chula Vista. At least there aren't any who come to our church."
"Jesus is God's Son.
He used to do all the hard work like walking on water and performing miracles and trying to teach the people who didn't want to learn about God. They finally got tired of Him preaching to them and they crucified Him. But He was good and kind, like His Father and He told His Father that they didn't know what they were doing and to forgive them and God said O.K."
"His Dad (God) appreciated everything that He had done and all His hard work on earth so He told Him He didn't have to go out on the road anymore. He could stay in heaven. So He did. And now He helps His Dad out by listening to prayers and seeing things which are important for God to take care of and which ones He can take care of
Himself without having to bother God. Like a secretary, only more important."
"You can pray anytime you want and they are sure to help you because they got it worked out so one of them is on duty all the time."
"You should always go to church on Sunday because it makes God happy, and if there's anybody you want to make happy, it's God.
Don't skip church or do something you think will be more fun like going to the beach. This is wrong. And besides the sun doesn't come out at the beach until noon anyway."
"If you don't believe in God, besides being an atheist, you will be very lonely, because your parents can't go everywhere with you, like to camp, but God can.
It is good to know He's around you when you're scared in the dark or when you can't swim and you get thrown into real deep water by big kids."
"But...you shouldn't just always think of what God can do for you. I figure God put me here and He can take me back anytime He pleases. And...that's why I believe in God."
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Tuning Forks
If you were a musical tuning fork that could be calibrated to attract vibrating sounds, to what note would your pitch be calibrated?
There is an astonishing law of nature. When a tuning fork is tapped it vibrates and makes humming sounds, sending out vibrations of a specific pitch through the air around it. If another fork is placed nearby and calibrated to the same note, the second fork will begin to hum and vibrate in harmony with the first one.
Our Father's Purpose In Reconciliation
Our Father hums in spontaneous vibrations of Glory. He brings us into His Realm and places us near His Fork where He hums us into Himself. Our hearts, our souls, our spirits begin to hum just like Him, for we have been calibrated to the invisible signals of Heaven. If another fork is placed nearby and calibrated to the same note, the second fork will hum and vibrate in harmony with the First One.
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/m/i/mightygo.htm
All hail the Lamb, enthroned on high,
His praise shall be our battle cry.
He reigns victorious, forever glorious,
He is Jesus, He is the Lord.
If you were a musical tuning fork that could be calibrated to attract vibrating sounds, to what note would your pitch be calibrated?
There is an astonishing law of nature. When a tuning fork is tapped it vibrates and makes humming sounds, sending out vibrations of a specific pitch through the air around it. If another fork is placed nearby and calibrated to the same note, the second fork will begin to hum and vibrate in harmony with the first one.
Our Father's Purpose In Reconciliation
Our Father hums in spontaneous vibrations of Glory. He brings us into His Realm and places us near His Fork where He hums us into Himself. Our hearts, our souls, our spirits begin to hum just like Him, for we have been calibrated to the invisible signals of Heaven. If another fork is placed nearby and calibrated to the same note, the second fork will hum and vibrate in harmony with the First One.
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/m/i/mightygo.htm
All hail the Lamb, enthroned on high,
His praise shall be our battle cry.
He reigns victorious, forever glorious,
He is Jesus, He is the Lord.
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0
Ms.Becky 
...We are pleased you have dropped by for a visit. Our God is beyond, beyond, and His Hum sounds into our hearts today. Have you any good stories for us? I am running close to empty! Don't you believe it, but we are in need of contributors!
Let's have a little song today as we contemplate our Lord who is the Archegos and the Prodomos.
http://mrmom.amaonline.com/forgiven.htm
Jesus Christ is the Archegos and the Prodromos of faith.
Podromos= Forerunner=
Forerunner esp. one who is sent before to take observations or act as a spy, a scout, a light armed soldier.
One who comes in advance to a place where the rest are to follow.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=4274&version=
Prodromos Rooted In Protrecho
Protrecho=
To run before/ to outrun.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=4390&version=
Archegos= Author=
The chief leader/ The prince.
One that takes the lead in any thing and thus affords an example.
A predecessor in a matter.
Pioneer/ Author.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=747&version=
Archegos Rooted In Arche & Ago
Arche=
Beginning/ origin.
The person or thing that commences.
The first person or thing in a series.
The leader that by which anything begins to be.
The origin.
The active cause.
The first place, principality, rule, magistracy
of angels and demons.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=746&version=
Ago=
To lead, take with one .
To lead by laying hold of, and this way to bring to the point of destination: of an animal.
To lead by accompanying to (into) a place.
To lead with one's self, attach to one's self as an attendant.
To conduct, bring.
To lead away, to a court of justice, magistrate, etc.
To lead, guide, direct.
To lead through, conduct to: to something.
To move, impel: of forces and influences on the mind.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=71&version=
Jesus Christ The Archegos & Teleiotes/Finisher
Finisher= Teleiotes=
A perfector.
One who has in his own person raised faith to its perfection.
Set before us the highest example of faith.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=5051&version=
Teleiotes Rooted In Teleioo
Teleioo=
To make perfect, complete.
To carry through completely, to accomplish, finish, bring to an end.
To complete (perfect).
To add what is yet wanting in order to render a thing full.
To be found perfect.
To bring to the end (goal) proposed.
To accomplish or bring to a close or fulfillment.
Bring to a close or fulfilment by event of the prophecies of the scriptures.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=5048&version=
Our High Priest
Such is the picture of the priesthood according to the order of Melchizedek, the new priesthood which put the old priesthood for ever out of date.
There remains one thing to note. The writer to the Hebrews had an almost unique sense of the total adequacy of the work of Jesus Christ.
It stretches back into the past, for it redeems men from transgressions committed under the old covenant (9:15).
It reaches forward into the future, for the work of Jesus Christ as high priest is never ended. Even in the heavenly places he carries on his priestly work, for we have a high priest who has passed through the heavens (4:14).
He appears in the presence of God on our behalf (9:24).
He continues a priest for ever (7:3).
He is able for all time to save those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them (7:25).
Here is a picture of Jesus Christ saving in past time, saving in present time, and saving for ever and for ever.
And in this picture and behind it there is something even more far-reaching. Its real meaning is that the life and the death and the Cross of Christ are not, as it were, parts of some isolated incident. The incarnation and the crucifixion are not, as it were, emergency measures. This was not done because everything else had been tried and failed. The life and death of Jesus are not simply events in time; they are windows into the eternal heart of God, whereby we see the suffering and redeeming love of God which has been suffering and redeeming since the beginning of time and will be beyond the end of time. In Jesus Christ we see God, not as God for a moment became, but as God for ever was, for ever is, and for ever will be. -Dr. William Barclay-
http://www.religion-online.org/cgi-bin/relsearchd.dll/showchapter?chapter_id=1172
...We are pleased you have dropped by for a visit. Our God is beyond, beyond, and His Hum sounds into our hearts today. Have you any good stories for us? I am running close to empty! Don't you believe it, but we are in need of contributors! Let's have a little song today as we contemplate our Lord who is the Archegos and the Prodomos.
http://mrmom.amaonline.com/forgiven.htm
Jesus Christ is the Archegos and the Prodromos of faith.
Podromos= Forerunner=
Forerunner esp. one who is sent before to take observations or act as a spy, a scout, a light armed soldier.
One who comes in advance to a place where the rest are to follow.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=4274&version=
Prodromos Rooted In Protrecho
Protrecho=
To run before/ to outrun.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=4390&version=
Archegos= Author=
The chief leader/ The prince.
One that takes the lead in any thing and thus affords an example.
A predecessor in a matter.
Pioneer/ Author.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=747&version=
Archegos Rooted In Arche & Ago
Arche=
Beginning/ origin.
The person or thing that commences.
The first person or thing in a series.
The leader that by which anything begins to be.
The origin.
The active cause.
The first place, principality, rule, magistracy
of angels and demons.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=746&version=
Ago=
To lead, take with one .
To lead by laying hold of, and this way to bring to the point of destination: of an animal.
To lead by accompanying to (into) a place.
To lead with one's self, attach to one's self as an attendant.
To conduct, bring.
To lead away, to a court of justice, magistrate, etc.
To lead, guide, direct.
To lead through, conduct to: to something.
To move, impel: of forces and influences on the mind.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=71&version=
Jesus Christ The Archegos & Teleiotes/Finisher
Finisher= Teleiotes=
A perfector.
One who has in his own person raised faith to its perfection.
Set before us the highest example of faith.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=5051&version=
Teleiotes Rooted In Teleioo
Teleioo=
To make perfect, complete.
To carry through completely, to accomplish, finish, bring to an end.
To complete (perfect).
To add what is yet wanting in order to render a thing full.
To be found perfect.
To bring to the end (goal) proposed.
To accomplish or bring to a close or fulfillment.
Bring to a close or fulfilment by event of the prophecies of the scriptures.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Greek/grk.cgi?number=5048&version=
Our High Priest
Such is the picture of the priesthood according to the order of Melchizedek, the new priesthood which put the old priesthood for ever out of date.
There remains one thing to note. The writer to the Hebrews had an almost unique sense of the total adequacy of the work of Jesus Christ.
It stretches back into the past, for it redeems men from transgressions committed under the old covenant (9:15).
It reaches forward into the future, for the work of Jesus Christ as high priest is never ended. Even in the heavenly places he carries on his priestly work, for we have a high priest who has passed through the heavens (4:14).
He appears in the presence of God on our behalf (9:24).
He continues a priest for ever (7:3).
He is able for all time to save those who draw near to God through him, since he always lives to make intercession for them (7:25).
Here is a picture of Jesus Christ saving in past time, saving in present time, and saving for ever and for ever.
And in this picture and behind it there is something even more far-reaching. Its real meaning is that the life and the death and the Cross of Christ are not, as it were, parts of some isolated incident. The incarnation and the crucifixion are not, as it were, emergency measures. This was not done because everything else had been tried and failed. The life and death of Jesus are not simply events in time; they are windows into the eternal heart of God, whereby we see the suffering and redeeming love of God which has been suffering and redeeming since the beginning of time and will be beyond the end of time. In Jesus Christ we see God, not as God for a moment became, but as God for ever was, for ever is, and for ever will be. -Dr. William Barclay-
http://www.religion-online.org/cgi-bin/relsearchd.dll/showchapter?chapter_id=1172
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