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BACK * * * * * * * * * * Need an inspirational thought...a chuckle or two... something to inspire you and get you through the day? Well, you've come to the right place. Check here regularly for new bits of inspiration. (posted daily...<well, almost>) FALL 2005
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* * (Tuesday, October 19) A young lady named Sally relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says that Dr. Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons. One particular day, Sally walked into the class and knew they were in for a fun day. On the wall was a big target, and on a nearby table were many darts. Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person's picture. Sally's friend drew a picture of the girl who had stolen her boyfriend. Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she had achieved. The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart. Sally looked forward to her turn, and she was filled with disappointment when Dr. Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats. As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't have a chance to throw any darts at her target, Dr. Smith began removing the target from the wall. Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus. A hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged marks covered His face, and His eyes were pierced. Dr. Smith said only these words... "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me." Matthew 25:40. received through e-mail...no credits listed * * * * * * * * * * * (Tuesday, October 18) Everyone Can't Be in Your Front Row... Not everyone is holy enough and healthy enough to have a front row seat in our lives. There are some people in your life that need to be loved from a distance. It's amazing what you can accomplish when you let go, or at least minimize your time with draining, negative, incompatible, not-going-anywhere relationships, friendships, fellowships! Observe the relationships around you. Pay attention to which ones lift and which ones lean...which ones encourage and which ones discourage...which ones are on a path of growth uphill and which ones are going downhill. When you leave certain people, do you feel better or feel worse? Which ones always have drama or don't really understand, know and appreciate you and the gift that lies within you? The more you seek God and the things of God, the more You seek quality and the more you seek not just the hand of God but the face of God. The more you seek things honorable -- the more you seek growth, peace of mind, love and truth around you -- the easier it will become for you to decide who gets to sit in the FRONT ROW and who should be moved to the balcony of your life. You cannot change the people around you...but you can change the people you are around! Ask God for wisdom and discernment and choose wisely the people who sit in the front row of your life. received from a College Crazies mom * * * * * * * * * * * (Friday, September 30) KEEP LOVING Keep
loving because of. from When I'm On My Knees by Anita Corrine Donihue * * * * * * * * * * * (Sunday, September 25) Jerusalem,
I can never forget you! I have written your name on the palms of my
hands. If you're in Christ, your name is written on God's hands. It's not written in ballpoint; it's not a temporary reminder, the way you might write "history test Monday" on the palm of your hand so you don't forget to study. No, the word translated "written" in the verse quoted above is really more like "engraved" or "tattooed." The names of God's people can't be scrubbed away. For all eternity, they're right there in God's sight, where he can't miss them. Here's something that will boggle your mind: if you are in Christ, your future, your eternity is just as secure as that of the saints who are already in heaven. They're happier than you are; they don't have to think about final exams or dating or their wardrobe. They don't have to deal with worry or doubts or temptations. But they aren't more secure than you are. You are in the grip of grace. There's no prying the fingers of the loving Christ away from you. "I am convinced," wrote the apostle Paul, "that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:38-39 NIV). Cling to Christ. Hold on to your Savior with all the strength you can muster. But when your grasp starts to slip (and it will), know that your security comes from God's grip on you, not your grip on him. That's what assurance means; it's a confidence that the God who has called you to himself is faithful to keep you. In spite of your failures. In spite of your doubts. One of the great benefits of this assurance is the joy it brings; it's a good feeling. But sometimes you just don't feel all that good. You don't feel secure. You don't feel like the apple of God's eye. What then? That's when you take your eyes off yourself--your mistakes, your doubt, your self-pity--and look to the God who loved you so much he gave up his Son for you. from words
to live by for teens * * * * * * * * * * * (Friday, September 16) I WANT TO LEAVE MY MARK FOR YOU I know not what each day holds, or what time I have left to serve. This I do know, dear Lord, I want to leave my mark for You. Help me make every day count. Remind me to lay aside my own wants, to be willingly inconvenienced and used for You. Let me not put anything before You, no matter how good it seems. Help me shed bad habits that slow me down from doing Your will. I can only leave my mark for You by replacing idle time with purposeful movement. When I rest, I open my heart that You may fill me with Your strength and spirit. Teach me to let go of yesterday, live fully today, and look with excitement toward tomorrow. I am awed as I daily come to know You more. I feel You shower love upon me like a refreshing summer rain. Even though I am unworthy, I long to reach the end of life's journey and see You face to face. In the meantime, Lord, may I use each day, each hour, each moment to leave my mark for You. Amen (from When I'm On My Knees by Anita Corrine Donihue) * * * * * * * * * * * (Tuesday, September 13)This is a bit long but well worth the time it takes to read it.)
THE HAIRBRUSH Knoxville airport all waiting to board planes: I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons, not the least of which is your ego... I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy grey hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long. Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man. I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered reading somewhere that he was dead. So this man in the airport...an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?.... There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him. Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man. I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. "Oh no, God please no." I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, " Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!" There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane. Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair." The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No brainer! I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to this man." Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair." I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane, How am I suppose to brush his hair without a hairbrush?" God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly finish you unto all good works." (2 Tim 3:7) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?" "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that. At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?" At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." Are you kidding? OF course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush." "I have one in my bag," he responded. I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.
A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that
old man's hair.... Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was
no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I
brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.
I know this sounds so strange but I've never felt that kind of
love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart,
I--for His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?" He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures. He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself. What a mess I must be for my bride." Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft. I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?" I said "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need! I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way...all because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.
John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling
among us. We * * * * * * * * * * * (Monday, September 12) QUALITY TIME Busy--so busy! The sun has long since set and there is still so much to do. Work, family, church, and much more seem to demand hours God never put in the day. Still, we Christians think all these accomplishments will please our heavenly Father. After all, faith without works is dead, right? When we finally fall into bed at night, can we say we've actually spent any time with the Father we're trying so hard to please? In his book, Unto the Hills, Billy Graham tells a story about a little girl and her father who were great friends and enjoyed spending time together. They went for walks and shared a passion for watching birds, enjoying the changing seasons, and meeting people who crossed their path. One day, the father noticed a change in his daughter. If he went for a walk, she excused herself from going. Knowing she was growing up, he rationalized that she must be expected to lose interest in her Daddy as she made other friends. Nevertheless, her absence grieved him deeply. Because of his daughter's absences, he was not in a particularly happy mood on his birthday. Then she presented him with a pair of exquisitely worked slippers, which she had hand-made for him while he was out of the house walking. At last he understood and said, "My darling, I like these slippers very much, but next time buy the slippers and let me have you all the days. I would rather have my child than anything she can make for me." Is it possible our heavenly Father sometimes feels lonely for the company of His children? Are we so busy doing good that we forget--or are too weary--to spend some quiet time with Him as our day draws to a close? Take a walk with your heavenly Father as the sun sets. Spend some quality time, talking to Him about anything and everything. You will be blessed and so will He! from Sunset With God...Honor Books * * * * * * * * * * * (Friday, September 9) Many years ago in a small village, a farmer had the misfortune of owing a large sum of money to a village moneylender. The
moneylender, who was an awful, mean man, fancied the farmer's
beautiful daughter. So he proposed a bargain.
received from Mikey's Funnies (www.mikeysFunnies.com) * * * * * * * * * * * (Wednesday, September 7) ~some random thoughts~ Fear
knocked at the door. Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it. The
church is not a gallery for the exhibition of eminent Christians but a
school for the education of imperfect ones, a nursery for the care of weak
ones, a hospital for the healing of those who need assiduous care. He has
the film of my whole life in view, and not just the snapshot of my present
situation. It is
impossible for that man to despair who remembers that his Helper is
omnipotent. Thankfulness is the soil in which joy thrives. Don't
find fault. Find a remedy. Don't be discouraged if your children reject your advice. Years later they will offer it to their own offspring. If all our misfortunes were laid in one common heap, most people would be contented to take their own and depart. People
are like stained glass windows; they sparkle and shine when the sun is
out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if
there is a light within. * * * * * * * * * * * (Tuesday, September 6) GOD RESTORES OUR HOPE The story is told of a man on an African safari deep in the jungle. The guide before him had a machete and was whacking away the tall weeds and thick underbrush. The traveler, wearied and hot, asked in frustration, "Where are we? Do you know where you are taking me? Where is the path?!" The seasoned guide stopped and looked back at the man and replied, "I am the path." We ask the same questions, don't we? We ask God, "Where are you taking me? Where is the path?" And he, like the guide, doesn't tell us. Oh, he may give us a hint or two, but that's all. If he did, would we understand? Would we comprehend our location? No, like the traveler, we are unacquainted with this jungle. So rather than give us an answer, Jesus gives us a far greater gift. He gives us himself. Does he remove the jungle? No, the vegetation is still thick. Does he purge the predators? No, danger still lurks. Jesus doesn't give hope by changing the jungle; he restores our hope by giving us himself. And he has promised to stay until the very end. from Traveling Light by Max Lucado * * * * * * * * * * * (Saturday, September 3) the
next time from Mocha with Max by Max Lucado * * * * * * * * * * * (Thursday, September 1) The
mark of a saint is not perfection, but consecration. A saint During
the 115-mile trip from Kentucky into Ohio, there had been some Wonder
if the claim some of us make to be disciples of Jesus ever * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
crazies
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