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Great Stories and Good Humor - Enjoy

Occasionally, we receive e-mails that have some great content or some good clean humor.  We thought we'd post a selection here for you.  We also highly recommend the book, "Even Angels Must Laugh".

Notice  Since these came by e-mail, we have not checked the veracity of the stories.  Nor is it our intent to offend anyone and we don't think any of these do (else we wouldn't have posted them).  If you think any of these shouldn't be here, feel free to let us know. 

Children in Church

A little child in church for the first time watched as the ushers passed the offering plates. When they neared the pew where he sat, the youngster piped up so that everyone could hear: "Don't pay for me Daddy, I'm under five."

A little boy was attending his first wedding. After the service, his cousin asked him, "How many women can a man marry?" "Sixteen," the boy responded. His cousin was amazed that he had an answer so quickly. "How do you know that?" "Easy," the little boy said. "All you have to do is add it up, like the Bishop said: “4 better, 4 worse, 4 richer, 4 poorer."

After a church service on Sunday morning, a young boy suddenly announced to his mother, "Mom, I've decided to become a minister when I grow up." "That's okay with us, but what made you decide that?" "Well," said the little boy, "I have to go to church on Sunday anyway, and I figure it will be more fun to stand up and yell, than to sit and listen."

A 6-year-old was overheard reciting the Lord's Prayer at a church service:" And forgive us our trash passes, as we forgive those who passed trash against us."

A boy was watching his father, a pastor, write a sermon." How do you know what to say?" he asked. "Why, God tells me." "Oh, then why do you keep crossing things out?"

A little girl became restless as the preacher's sermon dragged on and on. Finally, she leaned over to her mother and whispered, "Mommy, if we give him the money now, will he let us go?"

After the christening of his baby brother in church, little Johnny sobbed all the way home in the back seat of the car. His father asked him three times what was wrong. Finally, the boy replied, "That priest said he wanted us brought up in a Christian home, and I want to stay with you guys!"

Terri asked her Sunday School class to draw pictures of their favorite Bible stories. She was puzzled by Kyle's picture, which showed four people on an airplane, so she asked him which story it was meant to represent. "The flight to Egypt," said Kyle. "I see ... And that must be Mary, Joseph, and Baby Jesus," Ms. Terri said. "But who's the fourth person?" "Oh, that's Pontius the Pilot.

The Sunday School Teacher asks, "Now, Johnny, tell me frankly do you say prayers before eating?" "No sir," little Johnny replies, "I don't have to. My Mom is a good cook."

A college drama group presented a play in which one character would stand on a trap door and announce, "I descend into hell!" A stagehand below would then pull a rope, the trapdoor would open, and the character would plunge through. The play was well received. When the actor playing the part became ill, another actor who was quite overweight took his place. When the new actor announced, "I descend into hell!" the stagehand pulled the rope, and the actor began his plunge, but became hopelessly stuck. No amount of tugging on the rope could make him descend. One student in the balcony jumped up and yelled: "Hallelujah! Hell is full!"

Pastor Dave Charlton tells us, "After a worship service at First Baptist Church in Newcastle, Kentucky, a mother with a fidgety seven-year old boy told me how she finally got her son to sit still and be quiet. About halfway through the sermon, she leaned over and whispered, 'If you don't be quiet, Pastor Charlton is going to lose his place and will have to start his sermon all over again!' It worked."

A little girl was sitting on her grandfather's lap as he read her a bedtime story. From time to time, she would take her eyes off the book and reach up to touch his wrinkled cheek. She was alternately stroking her own cheek, then his again. Finally, she spoke up, "Grandpa, did God make you?" "Yes, sweetheart," he answered, "God made me a long time ago." "Oh," she paused, "Grandpa, did God make me too?" "Yes, indeed, honey," he said, "God made you just a little while ago." Feeling their respective faces again, she observed, "God's getting better at it, isn't he?"

IF I HAD MY LIFE TO LIVE OVER - by Erma Bombeck

(Written after she found out she was dying from cancer.)  

Life is too short to let it pass you by. We only have one shot at this and then it's gone.

The Tablecloth

The brand new pastor and his wife, newly assigned to their first ministry, to reopen a church in urban Brooklyn, arrived in early October excited about their opportunities. When they saw their church, it was very run down and needed much work. They set a goal to have everything done in time to have their first service on Christmas Eve.

They worked hard, repairing pews, plastering walls, painting, etc. and on Dec. 18 were ahead of schedule and just about finished. On Dec 19 a terrible tempest - a driving rainstorm hit the area and lasted for two days.

On the 21st, the pastor went over to the church. His heart sunk when he saw that the roof had leaked, causing a large area of plaster about 6 feet by 8 feet to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit, beginning about head high.

The pastor cleaned up the mess on the floor, and not knowing what else to do but postpone the Christmas Eve service, headed home. On the way he noticed that a local business was having a flea market sale for charity so he stopped in. One of the items was a beautiful, hand-made, ivory colored, crochet table cloth with exquisite work, fine colors and a cross embroidered right in the center.

It was just the right size to cover up the hole in the front wall. He bought it and headed back to the church.

By this time it had started to snow. An older woman running from the opposite direction was trying to catch the bus. She missed it. The pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.

She sat in a pew and paid no attention to the pastor while he got a ladder, hangers, etc., to put up the tablecloth as a wall tapestry. The pastor could hardly believe how beautiful it looked and it covered up the entire problem area.

Then he noticed the woman walking down the center aisle. Her face was like a sheet. "Pastor," she asked, "Where did you get that tablecloth?"

The pastor explained. The woman asked him to check the lower right corner to see if the initials, EBG were crocheted into it there. They were. These were the initials of the woman, and she had made this tablecloth 35 years before, in Austria.

The woman could hardly believe it as the pastor told how he had just gotten the tablecloth. The woman explained that before the war she and her husband were well-to-do people in Austria. When the Nazis came, she was forced to leave. Her husband was going to follow her the next week. She was captured, sent to prison and never saw her husband or her home again.

The pastor wanted to give her the tablecloth; but she made the pastor keep it for the church. The pastor insisted on driving her home, that was the least he could do. She lived on the other side of Staten Island and was only in Brooklyn for the day for a housecleaning job.

What a wonderful service they had on Christmas Eve. The church was almost full. The music and the spirit were great. At the end of the service, the pastor and his wife greeted everyone at the door and many said that they would return.

One older man, whom the pastor recognized from the neighborhood, continued to sit in one of the pews and stare, and the pastor wondered why he wasn't leaving. The man asked him where he got the tablecloth on the front wall because it was identical to one that his wife had made years ago when they lived in Austria before the war and how could there be two tablecloths so much alike?

He told the pastor how the Nazis came, how he forced his wife to flee for her safety, and he was supposed to follow her, but he was arrested and put in a concentration camp. He never saw his wife or his home again for all the 35 years in between.

The pastor asked him if he would allow him to take him for a little ride. They drove to Staten Island and to the same house where the pastor had taken the woman three days earlier. He helped the man climb the three flights of stairs to the woman's apartment, knocked on the door and he saw the greatest Christmas reunion he could ever imagine.

True Story-submitted by Pastor Rob Reid.

Twenty-Six Angels

Here's a message that will bring you chills. Have you ever felt the urge to pray for someone and then just put it on a list and said, "I'll pray for them later."? Or has anyone ever called you and said, "I need you to pray or me, I have this need."? Read the following story that was sent to me and may it change the way that you may think about prayer and also the way you pray. You will be blessed by this. A missionary on furlough told this true story while visiting his home church in Michigan.

"While serving at a small field hospital in Africa, every two weeks I traveled by bicycle through the jungle to a nearby city for supplies. This was a journey of two days and required camping overnight at the halfway point. On one of these journeys, I arrived in the city where I planned to collect money from a bank, purchase medicine and supplies, and then begin my two-day journey back to the field hospital. Upon arrival in the city, I observed two men fighting, one of whom had been seriously injured. I treated him for his injuries and at the same time talked to him about the Lord. I then traveled two days, camping overnight, and arrived home without incident.

Two weeks later I repeated my journey. Upon arriving in the city, I was approached by the young man I had treated. He told me that he had known I carried money and medicines. He said, "Some friends and I followed you into the jungle, knowing you would camp overnight. We planned to kill you and take your money and drugs. But just as we were about to move into your camp, we saw that you were surrounded by 26 armed guards."

At this I laughed and said that I was certainly all alone in that jungle campsite.

The young man pressed the point, however, and said, "No sir, I was not the only person to see the guards. My five friends also saw them, and we all counted them. It was because of those guards that we were afraid and left you alone."

At this point in the sermon, one of the men in the congregation jumped to his feet and interrupted the missionary and asked if he could tell him the exact day this happened. The missionary told the congregation the date, and the man who interrupted told him this story: "On the night of your incident in Africa, it was morning here and I was preparing to go play golf. I was about to putt when I felt the urge to pray for you. In fact, the urging of the Lord was so strong, I called men in this church to meet with me here in the sanctuary to pray for you. Would all of those men who met with me on that day stand up?"

The men who had met together to pray that day stood up. The missionary wasn't concerned with who they were, he was too busy counting how many men he saw. There were 26.

This story is an incredible example of how the Spirit of the Lord moves in mysterious ways. If you ever hear such prodding, go along with it. Nothing is ever hurt by prayer except the gates of hell.

Dreams and Contentment

I feel sorry for people who have never learned how to celebrate the ordinary; who live their lives under the sad illusion that happiness is just beyond their fingertips. "As soon as I find my soul mate... get out of debt... find a better job... then I'll be happy."

But I also pity the pale souls who carry no dream within them that is bigger than they are, those timid shadows who are unwilling to step into the light and boldly attempt the impossible. Last week a visitor to our building said, "Always expect the worst and you'll never be disappointed." I looked closely at him for a wry smile, a twinkle in his eyes or some other signal that he was joking. He wasn't. I avoided him the rest of that day and then breathed a huge sigh of relief when he was finally gone.

Am I crazy? Is it wrong for me to feel sorry for those who feel happiness lies just beyond their fingertips, while at the same time pitying those who fear to reach for things beyond their grasp?

I believe, unconditionally, that you should be content exactly as you are. But I also believe that you should reach for the stars.  Although these beliefs, on the surface, appear to contradict one another, on another level they are perfectly compatible.  In the words of the great physicist, Niels Bohr, "The opposite of a correct statement is a false statement.  The opposite of a profound truth may well be another profound truth."

Our universe is built on mutually exclusive truths.

Mutually exclusive truths will always contain at least one common ingredient.  In this instance, that common ingredient is an absence of fear. Being content and reaching for the stars each require an absence of fear. The fear of being average robs you of contentment.  The fear of failure robs you of the joy of your dreams. Fear is an unrewarding master.

No one should live without goals and dreams and visions of grand possibilities, but you should never let them rob you of the ability to celebrate the ordinary.  Colorful and happy dreams will bring joy into your life, regardless of whether or not you ever achieve them. Your dreams, loyalties, relationships and faith form the essence of who you are.

Who you are is much bigger than what you do.

I urge you to make peace with the possibility of failure, then begin to climb your impossible mountain, purely for the thrill of the climb. Don't worry about whether you'll ever reach the summit. It's really not important. Learn to celebrate each struggling step forward, always remembering, "I've never been this high before."

Are you ready to start climbing?

Roy H. Williams

PS  Chris Maddock tells me that reaching the summit of a mountain is a lot like finishing a good book.  Just as the joy of a good book is never in the finishing of it, but in the reading, the thrill of climbing is not in the summit, but in the climb.

Expelled from Rome?

Here is a story of how the Jews might have been expelled from Rome.  You never know for sure.......

About a century or two ago, the Pope decided that all the Jews had to leave Rome.  Naturally there was a big uproar from the Jewish community.  So the Pope made a deal.  He would have a religious debate with a member of the Jewish community.  If the Jewish person won, the Jews could stay.  If the Pope won, the Jews would leave.

The Jews realized that they had no choice.  So they picked a middle aged man named Moishe to represent them.  Moishe asked for one addition to the debate.  To make it more interesting, neither side would be allowed to talk.  The Pope agreed.

The day of the great debate came.  Moishe and the Pope sat opposite each other for a full minute before the Pope raised his hand and showed three fingers.  Moishe looked back at him and raised one finger. The Pope waved his fingers in a circle around his head.  Moishe pointed to the ground where he sat.  The Pope pulled out a wafer and a glass of wine.  Moishe pulled out an apple.  The Pope stood up and said, “I give up. This man is too good. The Jews can stay.”

An hour later, the Cardinals were all around the Pope asking him what had happened.  The Pope said, “First I held up three fingers to represent the Trinity.  He responded by holding up one finger to remind me that there was still one God common to both our religions.  Then I waved my finger around me to show him that God was all around us.  He responded by pointing to the ground and showing that God was also right here with us.  I pulled out the wine and wafer to show that God absolves us from our sins.  He pulled out an apple to remind me of original sin.  He had an answer for everything.  What could I do?”

Meanwhile, the Jewish community had crowded around Moishe. “What happened?” they asked. “Well,” said Moishe, “First he said to me that the Jews had three days to get out of here.  I told him that not one of us was leaving.  Then he told me that this whole city would be cleared of Jews.  I let him know that we were staying right here.”

“Yes, yes,.. and then???” asked the crowd.

“I don’t know,” said Moishe, “He took out his lunch, and I took out mine.”

Friends

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd." I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

As I walked on, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."

He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!". There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now. I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.

I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes. We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "Hey guy, you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!" He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, we began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and I was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.

Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him! Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!" He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began. "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story." I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth. Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life.

For better or for worse, God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for God by serving others.

GOD KNOWS WHERE YOU ARE

By Ken Gaub, Yakima, Washington

Do you believe that God not only loves you, but also knows where you are and what you're doing every minute of the day? I certainly do after an amazing experience I had several years ago.

At the time I was driving on I-75 near Dayton, Ohio, with my wife and children. We turned off the highway for a rest and refreshment stop. My wife Barbara and children went into the restaurant.

I suddenly felt the need to stretch my legs, so waved them on ahead saying I'd join them later. I bought a soft drink, and as I walked toward a Dairy Queen, feelings of self-pity enshrouded my mind. I loved the Lord and my ministry, but I felt drained, burdened. My cup was empty.

Suddenly the impatient ringing of a telephone nearby jarred me out of my doldrums. It was coming from a phone booth at a service station on the corner. Wasn't anyone going to answer the phone? Noise from the traffic flowing through the busy intersection must have drowned out the sound because the service station attendant continued looking after his customers, oblivious to the incessant ringing.

"Why doesn't somebody answer that phone?" I muttered. I began reasoning. It may be important. What if it's an emergency? Curiosity overcame my indifference. I stepped inside the booth and picked up the phone. "Hello," I said casually and took a big sip of my drink.

The operator said: "Long distance call for Ken Gaub."

My eyes widened, and I almost choked on a chunk of ice. Swallowing hard, I said, "You're crazy!" Then realizing I couldn't speak to an operator like that, I added, "This can't be! I was walking down the road, not bothering anyone, and the phone was ringing..."

"Is Ken Gaub there?" the operator interrupted, "I have a long distance call for him."

It took a moment to gain control of my babbling, but I finally replied, "Yes, he is here." Searching for a possible explanation, I wondered if I could possibly be on Candid Camera! Still shaken, perplexed, I asked, "How in the world did you reach me here? I was walking down the road, the pay phone started ringing, and I just answered it on chance. You can't mean me."

"Well," the operator asked, "is Mr. Gaub there or isn't he?"

"Yes, I am Ken Gaub," I said, finally convinced by the tone of her voice that the call was real. Then I heard another voice say, "Yes, that's him, operator. That's Ken Gaub."

I listened dumbfounded to a strange voice identify herself. "I'm Millie from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. You don't know me, Mr Gaub, but I'm desperate. Please help me."

"What can I do for you?"

She began weeping. Finally she regained control and continued., "I was about to commit suicide, had just finished writing a note, when I began to pray and tell God I really didn't want to do this. Then I suddenly remembered seeing you on television and thought if I could just talk to you, you could help me. I knew that was impossible because I didn't know how to reach you. I didn't know anyone who could help me find you. Then some numbers came to mind, and I scribbled them down."

At this point she began weeping again, and I prayed silently for wisdom to help her. She continued, "I looked at the numbers and thought, wouldn't it be wonderful if I had a miracle from God, and He has given me Ken's phone number? I decided to try calling it. I can't believe I'm talking to you. Are you in your office in California?"

 I replied, "Lady, I don't have an office in California. My office is in Yakima, Washington."

A little surprised, she asked, "Oh really, then where are you?"

"Don't you know?" I responded. "You made the call."

She explained, "But, I don't even know what area I'm calling. I just dialed the number that I had on this paper."

"Ma'am, you won't believe this, but I'm in a phone booth in Dayton, Ohio!"

"Really?" she exclaimed. "Well, what are you doing there?"

I kidded her gently, "Well, I'm answering the phone. It was ringing as I walked by, so I answered it."

Knowing this encounter could only have been arranged by God, I began to counsel the woman. As she told me of her despair and frustration, the presence of the Holy Spirit flooded the phone booth giving me words of wisdom beyond my ability. In a matter of moments, she prayed the sinner's prayer and met the One who could lead her out of her situation into a new life. 

I walked away from the telephone booth with an electrifying sense of our heavenly Father's concern for each of His children. What were the astronomical odds of this happening? With all the millions of phones and innumerable combinations of numbers, only an all-knowing God could have caused that woman to call that number in that phone booth at that moment in time.

Forgetting my drink and nearly bursting with exhilaration, I headed back to my family, wondering if they would believe my story. Maybe I better not tell this I thought, but I couldn't contain it. "Barb, you won't believe this! God knows where I am!"

God also knows where you are. Place yourself in His hands, concentrate on knowing His will for your life, and He will never forsake or forget you.

Ken

Saved By a Tract

The following is a true story –

Every Sunday afternoon, after the morning service at their church, the Pastor and his eleven-year-old son would go out into their town and hand out gospel tracts.  This particular Sunday afternoon, as it came time for the Pastor and his son to go to the streets with their tracts, it was very cold outside as well as pouring down rain.

The boy bundled up in his warmest and driest clothes and said-- "OK dad, I'm ready."  His Pastor dad asked---"Ready for what?" "Dad, it's time we gather our tracts together and go out."  Dad responded---"Son, it's very cold outside and it's pouring down rain."  The boy gave his dad a surprised look, and asked---"But dad, aren't people still going to Hell, even though it's raining?" Dad answered---"Son, I am not going out in this weather."

Despondently the boy asked--- "Dad, can I go--please?" His father hesitated for a moment then said---"Son, you can go.  Here's the tracts; be careful, son." " Thanks, Dad!!!  " And with that he was off and out into the rain. This eleven-year-old boy walked the streets of the town going door to door and handed everybody he met in the street a gospel tract.

After 2 hours of walking in the rain he was soaking bone chilled wet and down to his VERY LAST TRACT.  He stopped on a corner and looked for someone to hand a tract to but the streets were totally deserted.  Then he turned toward the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the door bell.  He rang the bell--but nobody answered. He rang it again and again bit still no one answered.  He waited but still no answer. Finally this eleven- year- old trooper turned to leave but something stopped him.  Again, he turned to the door and rang the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist.  He waited, something holding him there on the front porch.  He rang again, and this time the door slowly opened.

Standing in the doorway was a very sad looking elderly lady.  She softly asked-- "What can I do for you son?"

With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world this little boy said---"Ma’am, I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU, and I came to give you my very last gospel tract which will tell you all about JESUS and His great LOVE."  With that he handed her his last tract, and turned to leave.  She called to him as he departed---"Thank you son! And God bless you!"

Well, the following Sunday morning in church, Pastor Dad was in the pulpit and as the service began he asked---" Does anybody have a testimony or want to say anything ?" 

Slowly, in the back row of the church, an elderly lady stood to her feet.  As she began to speak, a look of glorious radiance came from her face as she said-- "None of you in this church know me.  I've never been here before. You see, before last Sunday I was not a Christian. My husband has passed on some time ago, leaving me totally alone in this world.  Last Sunday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, it was even more so in my heart as I came to the end of the line, where I no longer had any hope or will to live.  So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic of my home.  I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof then stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted, I was about to leap off when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs startled me."

"I thought-- I'll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go away. I waited and waited--but the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly. I thought to myself, again---Who on earth could this be ?!  Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me.  I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the bell rang louder and louder. When I opened the door and looked I could hardly believe my eyes, for there on my front porch was the most radiant and angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life.  His SMILE, oh, I could never describe it to you !!! And the words that came from his mouth caused my heart, that had long been dead, TO LEAP WITH JOY as he exclaimed with cherub like voice--- 'Ma'am, I just came to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU.' Then he gave me this gospel tract that I now hold in my hand."

"As the little angel disappeared back out into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read slowly every word of this gospel tract.  Then I went up to my attic to get my rope and chair.  I wouldn't be needing them any more. You see, I am now a happy child of the King, and since the address of your church was on the back of this gospel tract I have come here to personally say THANK YOU TO GOD'S LITTLE CHILD WHO CAME JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME; AND BY SO DOING, SPARED MY SOUL FROM ETERNITY IN HELL."

There were now no dry eyes in the church.  And as shouts of praise, and honor to the King resounded off the very rafters of the building, Pastor Dad descended from the pulpit to the front pew where the little boy was seated; he took him in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Probably no church has had a more glorious moment.  AND this universe has never seen a papa that was more filled with love & honor for his son--- EXCEPT for one---this Father also allowed His Son to go out into a cold & dark world.  He received His Son back with joy unspeakable, and as all of heaven shouted praises and honor to the King, The Father sat His beloved Son on a throne far above all principality and power....and every name that is named....

There may be someone reading this, who is also going through a dark, cold, lonely time in your soul.  You may be a Christian, for we are not without problems, OR you may not yet know the King.  Whatever the case, and whatever the problem or situation you find yourself in, and no matter how DARK it may seem, I want you to know that I just came to tell you---JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU.

Author Unknown

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life" - Jesus Christ

Lessons

These are great!  Lessons we can all learn from.

1 - Most Important Lesson

During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one:

"What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?"

Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50's, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Just before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. "Absolutely," said the professor.

"In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say 'hello'."

"I've never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy.

2 - Second Important Lesson - Pickup in the Rain

One night, at 11:30 PM, an older African American woman was standing on the side of an Alabama highway trying to endure a lashing rain storm. Her car had broken down and she desperately needed a ride.

Soaking wet, she decided to flag down the next car. A young white man stopped to help her, generally unheard of in those conflict-filled 1960s. The man took her to safety, helped her get assistance and put her into a taxi cab.

She seemed to be in a big hurry, but wrote down his address and thanked him.  Seven days went by and a knock came on the man's door. To his surprise, a giant console color TV was delivered to his home. A special note was attached. It read:

"Thank you so much for assisting me on the highway the other night. The rain drenched not only my clothes, but also my spirits. Then you came along. Because of you, I was able to make it to my dying husband's bedside just before he passed away. God bless you for helping me and unselfishly serving others."

Sincerely, Mrs. Nat King Cole.

3 - Third Important Lesson - Always remember those who serve

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of water in front of him.

"How much is an ice cream sundae?" he asked.

"Fifty cents," replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled his hand out of his pocket and studied the coins in it.  "Well, how much is a plain dish of ice cream?" he inquired.

By now more people were waiting for a table and the waitress was growing impatient. "Thirty cents," she brusquely replied."

The little boy again counted his coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he said. The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked away.

The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, she began to cry as she wiped down the table. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two nickels and five pennies - You see, he couldn't have the sundae, because he had to have enough left to leave her a tip.

4 - Fourth Important Lesson - The Obstacle in Our Path

In ancient times, a King had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the roads clear, But none did anything about getting the stone out of the way.

Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. Upon approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. After the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been.

The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the king indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway.

The peasant learned what many of us never understand. Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve our condition.

5 - Fifth Important Lesson - Giving When it Counts

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare and serious disease.

Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year old brother, who had miraculously survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister.

I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it if it will save her.." As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?" Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

You see, after all, understanding and attitude, are everything.

Nails in Our Wood

“God is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” (1 John 1:9).

It is wonderful and it is most reassuring to know that we can be right with God. Even so, we all bear scars. Scars from living, and scars from sin.

There once was a boy who had developed a habit of profanity. Nothing, it seemed, could remove this blight from his character. Regardless of multiple disciplinings, requests, or reasoning, he maintained his ways to the contrary of those wishing him to cease this behavior.

The boy loved working with his dad and spent many hours at his side on various projects.  Periodically, though, it seemed, when things didn't go the way he thought they should, he would show his utter contempt and disrespect toward the situation by shouting his unacceptable language.

One weekend the boy and his father worked long hours and installed a new beautiful solid wood garage door. When they had finished, they stepped back admiring their work and together they were thankful to have the door they had waited for some time to acquire.

“I think it is the most beautiful garage door I have ever seen,” said the boy.

“Yes,” replied his father, “It is as beautiful as I have ever seen and hoped for, for our home.”

Time passed and the boy maintained the profanity.  Then one morning at breakfast the father had a surprise for his son. As the boy was eating his food, the father pulled up a chair, and sitting down beside him, placed a hammer and a fist full of nails next to his son’s plate. Looking surprised the boy asked what they were for.  Without hesitation, and in anticipation of his son's question, his father began telling him, once again, how much it hurt him to have him use profanity.

"'But what are the nails and hammer for?” asked the boy.

The only response the dad gave was, "You'll see.  And by the way, leave these where we can get them easily.”

Even before the boy had finished his food, he began his profane ways.  Immediately, the father told his son to grab a nail and the hammer and to follow him.  Soon they were standing in front of their new garage door.

“You are very special to me,” said the dad, “and you are very talented and creative.  This garage door is like you. It is very beautiful and has many attractive features.  What we are here for, son, is for you to drive your first nail deep into the wood of this beautiful door.”

“Why should I do that?” said the boy with a worried look on his face.

“Each nail represents the ugliness of your profanity on your otherwise wonderful personality,” said the dad.

“But where should I drive the nail?” his son asked.

“Just as you choose your words,” said his father, “you must also choose where to drive this ugly nail into the door.”

And so the boy chose an out of the way place to set his first nail. Soon, however, there were nails driven in almost every section of the door.

One day the boy asked the father what he needed to do to be able to pull the nails out. “Each day you don't have to drive a new nail into the door,” said his dad “you may pull one out.”

Slowly, but steadily the boy began removing nails with more and more consistency. And one day all the nails had been removed from the door.  The boy was proud of the fact that there were no more nails in the door and brought his father out to show him.

Standing there together, the father made a spiritual point. He said, “Son, I am proud of you for choosing not to use profanity any more. Each nail you removed was like a sin you have had forgiven. See, it is good to have all your sins forgiven.”

“It does feel good not to have any more nails in the door,” said the boy.  Then he hesitated and said, “but look at all the holes they left in the wood.”

We all have holes in our wood. Some things cannot be undone, regardless of how we wish otherwise.  The Bible says in Romans 6:23, “For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

We see then that we may have total and complete forgiveness from our sins and have a right relationship with God.  However, we must realize that the consequences of our transgressions may and usually do have eternally catastrophic results. In a sense, it is a type of death.

To not sin in the first place is really the best choice we can make.

Writing In The Sand

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert.

During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand:

"TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE"

They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone:

"TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE"

The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?"

The other friend replied: "When someone hurts me, I write it down in sand - where winds of forgiveness will erase it away. When someone does something good for me, I engrave it in stone - where no wind can ever erase it."

LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE.

It is said, "It takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them."

Take the time to live!!!

Where is God's Perfection?
Lessons From Boys and Baseball.

In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be mainstreamed into conventional schools. At a Chush fundraising dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son Shaya? Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do.  My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?"

The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish and stilled by the piercing query.

"I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child."  He then told the following story about his son Shaya:

One afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they will let me play?"

Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

Shaya's father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said "We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we'll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know-how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact.

The first pitch came in and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya.

As the pitch came in, Shaya and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first." Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled.

By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second." Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.

As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya run home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a "grand slam" and won the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection."

and a thought provoker

God & Country

This is a statement that was read over the PA system at the football game at Roane County High School, Kingston, Tennessee by school Principal Jody McLoud, on September 1, 2000. I thought it was worth sharing with the world, and hope you will forward it to all your friends. It clearly shows just how far this country has gone in the wrong direction.

"It has always been the custom at Roane County High School football games to say a prayer and play the National Anthem to honor God and Country.

Due to a recent ruling by the Supreme Court, I am told that saying a prayer is a violation of Federal Case Law.

As I understand the law at this time, I can use this public facility to approve of sexual perversion and call it an alternate lifestyle, and if someone is offended, that's OK.

I can use it to condone sexual promiscuity by dispensing condoms and calling it safe sex. If someone is offended, that's OK.

I can even use this public facility to present the merits of killing an unborn baby as a viable means of birth control. If someone is offended, no problem.

I can designate a school day as earth day and involve students in activities to religiously worship and praise the goddess, mother earth, and call it ecology.

I can use literature, videos and presentations in the classroom that depict people with strong, traditional, Christian convictions as simpleminded and ignorant and call it enlightenment.

However, if anyone uses this facility to honor God and ask Him to bless this event with safety and good sportsmanship, Federal Case Law is violated.

This appears to be at best, inconsistent and at worst, diabolical. Apparently, we are to be tolerant of everything and anyone except God and His Commandments.

Nevertheless, as a school principal, I frequently ask staff and students to abide by rules which they do not necessarily agree. For me to do otherwise would be at best, inconsistent and at worst, hypocritical. I suffer from that affliction enough unintentionally. I certainly do not need to add an intentional transgression.

For this reason, I shall, "Render unto Caesar that which is Caesar's," and refrain from praying at this time. However, if you feel inspired to honor, praise and thank God, and ask Him in the name of Jesus to bless this event, please feel free to do so. As far as I know, that's not against the law.......... yet.

Prayer to Raise the Conscience

When Minister Joe Wright was asked to open the new session of the Kansas Senate, everyone was expecting the usual generalities, but this is what they heard:

"Heavenly Father, we come before you today to ask Your forgiveness and to seek Your direction and guidance.  We know Your Word says, "Woe to those who call evil good" but that is exactly what we have done.  We have lost our spiritual equilibrium and reversed our values.  We confess that:

Search us, Oh, God, and know our hearts today; cleanse us from every sin and set us free.  Guide and bless these men and women who have been sent to direct us to the center of Your will, we ask it in the name of Your Son, the living Savior, Jesus Christ.  Amen"

The response was immediate.  A number of legislators walked out during the prayer in protest.  In 6 short weeks, there were logged more than 5,000 phone calls with only 47 of those calls responding negatively.  The church is now receiving international requests for copies of this prayer from India, Africa, and Korea.

Commentator Paul Harvey aired this prayer on  "The Rest of the Story" on the radio and received a larger response to this program than any other he has ever aired.

With the Lord's help, may this prayer sweep over our nation and wholeheartedly become our desire so that we again can be called one nation under God.

The Atheist

An atheist was walking through the woods, admiring all the "accidents" that evolution had created. "What majestic trees! What powerful rivers! What beautiful animals!", he said to himself. 

As he was walking alongside the river he heard a rustling in the bushes behind him. Turning to look, he saw a 7-foot grizzly bear charge towards him.  He ran as fast as he could up the path.  He looked over his shoulder and saw the grizzly was closing. Somehow, he ran even faster, so scared that tears came to his eyes.  He looked again and the bear was even closer.  His heart was pounding and he tried to run faster.  He tripped and fell to the ground.  He rolled over to pick himself up but the bear was right over him, reaching for him with its left paw and raising its right paw to strike him.  At that instant the atheist cried, "Oh my God!...."

Time stopped.  The bear froze. The forest was silent.  Even the river stopped moving. As a bright light shone upon the man, a voice came out of the sky, "You deny my existence for all these years, teach others that I don't exist and even credit creation to a cosmic accident.  Do you expect me to help you out of this predicament?  Am I to count you as a believer?"  The atheist looked directly into the light, "It would be hypocritical to ask to be a Christian after all these years, but perhaps you could make the bear a Christian?"

The Hand

My daughter, Kathleen, was 15... too young to seriously date but she had a boyfriend. One evening, when I was leaving to pick up my son, Paul, from baseball practice, she asked if she could just go with her boyfriend to pick up his little brother at a friend's house. She said they would come right back. I said, "All right, just make sure you wear your seat belt, and come right home."

It was my father's birthday and my youngest daughter, Therese, was already at my father's house waiting for us to come over with the cake I had yet to pick up at the store. I left to pick Paul up at school, but decided to take the highway, rather than the shortcut along the back roads.

After leaving the school, Paul and I ran in the store for the cake and some last minute goodies. As we were getting into the car, we heard and saw paramedics, fire trucks, three ambulances and of course a multitude of police cars.

I got a sick feeling in my stomach and said to Paul, "Somebody needs our prayers, quick." I wondered if there was a fire or a bad car accident. At one of the intersections I had to stop to let more emergency vehicles through, and prayed, "Lord, those people need you right now, go to them and place your protective hand over them."

We stopped at my parents to drop off the food, before going home to pick up Kathleen, but my father met me at the car and told us to postpone the party because Therese had fallen asleep. "Which way did you go to the school?" he asked, "Because there was a bad accident on the back road, I heard someone was killed. It happened just about the time you had to pick up Paul at the school and I know you always go that way. I was so happy to see you pull in, I had a gut feeling it was you."

As Paul and I drove the short distance home, I could see our house was dark and when Kathleen is home alone, she always burned every light. As I turned off the ignition, tears fell, "It was Kathleen," I told Paul, "I know it." I ran in the house and checked our answering machine, no one had called. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that someone would have called by now. "Paranoid," that's what Kathleen always called me, and that's what I was telling myself, "You're just paranoid!"

Then, the phone rang. It was her friend's mother, who worked in the emergency room of our local hospital. She only told me that the three of them were in an accident and were being transported to the hospital. I didn't call my husband at work, nor my parents. Paul and I just left for the hospital. As I pulled into the parking lot, one of the paramedics, someone we have known for years, met us at our car. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said with tears streaming down his face.

The next thing I remember was talking to the doctor in the hallway of the ER. He asked me if I believed in God, and with that my knees gave way. "No," he said, "you don't understand, do you believe in divine intervention?" I stammered, a weak, "Yes." Not having a clue what he was talking about. He smiled at me and asked, "Do you know what shirt your daughter is wearing, tonight?" Shaking my head "no", he told me to go down the hall and look. "Your daughter is blessed with angels and so are you. From what the emergency personnel told me, there is no way that your daughter should be alive, let alone only have a few scratches." Kathleen was laying on a cart, waiting for more x-rays. When I got to her, we both sobbed. As I was hugging her I had the urge to check her shirt, unzipping her jacket. I read the words, "Jesus Saves." I knew then, what the doctor had meant. All three were treated and released.

On the way home that night, Kathleen told this story: "It was really weird. About a quarter of a mile before the accident, I said, 'Wait, we forgot to put our seat belts on. My mother will kill me. Then a car was coming towards us in our lane, he swerved, and I knew we were going to get hit on the passenger side of the car where I was sitting. We got hit a total of three times because the car kept spinning in a circle. I felt his little brother's hand on my shoulder, holding me tightly in place. "But Mom, after it was all over, I could still feel the hand on my shoulder. I looked and his little brother had flown out the back window of the car, as we later found out, on the first spin. "It was an angel, Mom, I know it!"

I knew it too, especially when we went the next day to look at the car, it had been split in half, right underneath my daughter's seat. The driver of the other car, witnesses said, was traveling 90-95 miles per hour and the point of impact at that speed was directly at Kathleen's door.

The police report stated that the car door was found fifty feet away from the accident scene, with the seat belt attached. So when the door broke loose, "the hand" was the only thing that saved my daughter's life. The Lord, knew, long before I did that my child was in trouble, and I will always praise Him for saving her life and restoring mine.

I have been meaning to write this story for the past couple years. Kathleen just turned 21. While I was writing this I smiled and cried, but it's all true. -- Barbara

The Master's Touch

Wishing to encourage her young son’s progress at the piano, a mother bought tickets to an Ignace Paderewski performance.  When the night arrived, the two found their seats near the front of the concert hall. The boy stared in wide-eyed amazement at the majestic grand piano on the stage.  The mother began talking to a friend sitting nearby and she failed to notice her son slip away. As the house lights dimmed and the spotlight lit the piano, the woman gasped as she saw her son at the piano bench, innocently picking out “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star.”

Before the woman could retrieve her son, the famous concert pianist appeared on stage and quickly moved to the keyboard.  “Don’t quit - keep playing,” he whispered to the boy.  Leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Then with his right arm, he reached around the other side, encircling the child, to add a running obligato. Together, the old master and the young novice mesmerized the crowd.

No matter how insignificant, or “amateurish” you may feel today, the Master has these words for you, “Don’t quit - keep playing.”  He will add whatever is needed to turn your efforts into a masterpiece.