The Price of A Miracle

This story was said to be true...

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

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

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

"And what do you want?" the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother."

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

"I beg your pardon," said the pharmacist.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, renowned surgeon. . specializing in solving Georgi's malady. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Georgi was home again and doing well.

Mommy and Daddy were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. "That surgery," Mommy whispered. "It's like a miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"

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

A Cry For Help

Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, and all of the others, including Love. 

One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all repaired their boats and left. 

Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to persevere until the last possible moment.

When the island was almost sinking, Love decided to ask for help.

Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said, "Richness, can you take me with you?" 

Richness answered, "No I can't..There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place for you here."

Love decided to ask Vanity, who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel, "Vanity, please help me!" 

"I can't help you Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.

Sadness was close by so Love asked for help, "Sadness let me go with you." 

"Oh...Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"

Happiness passed by Love too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her!

Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come Love, I will take you." 

It was an elder. Love felt so blessed and overjoyed that he even forgot to ask the elder her name.

When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. 

Love, realizing how much he owed the elder, asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who helped me?"

"It was Time," Knowledge answered.

"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?

Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how great Love is.

A Good Lesson

A young man, a student in one of our universities, was one day taking a walk with a professor, who was commonly called the students' friend, from his kindness to those who waited on his instructions. As they went along, they saw lying in the path a pair of old shoes, which they supposed to belong to a poor man who was employed in a field close by, and who had nearly finished his day's work. 

The student turned to the professor, saying: "Let us play the man a trick: we will hide his shoes, and conceal ourselves behind those bushes, and wait to see his perplexity when he cannot find them." 

"My young friend," answered the professor, "we should never amuse ourselves at the expense of the poor. But you are rich, and may give yourself a much greater pleasure by means of the poor man. Put a coin into each shoe, and then we will hide ourselves and watch how the discovery affects him." 

The student did so, and they both placed themselves behind the bushes close by. 

The poor man soon finished his work, and came across the field to the path where he had left his coat and shoes. While putting on his coat he slipped his foot into one of his shoes; but feeling something hard, he stooped down to feel what it was, and found the coin. Astonishment and wonder were seen upon his countenance. He gazed upon the coin, turned it round, and looked at it again and again. He then looked around him on all sides, but no person was to be seen. He now put the money into his pocket, and proceeded to put on the other shoe; but his surprise was doubled on finding the other coin. 

His feelings overcame him; he fell upon his knees, looked up to heaven and uttered aloud a fervent thanksgiving, in which he spoke of his wife, sick and helpless, and his children without bread, whom the timely bounty, from some unknown hand, would save from perishing. 

The student stood there deeply affected, and his eyes filled with tears. "Now," said the professor, "are you not much better pleased than if you had played your intended trick?"

The youth replied, "You have taught me a lesson which I will never forget. I feel now the truth of those words, which I never understood before: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'"

Remembering Peter...

Life can be funny sometimes when we realize how we spend so much of our time & effort on things that don't really matter.

Last Wednesday night, I was online & was somewhat amused with the controversy raging on over a player in a football club I've supported over the past 18 years. Reading an interesting anecdote, I tagged a few friends in a post on my Facebook account somewhere around 2am on Thursday, October 21st. Little did I know that the next post on one of the tagged friend was to be the last ever "crazy" post I'd share with him...

The fateful last posting

 

 

 

It was only later during the next day that a posting on my Facebook wall caught my eye. Someone published a picture of that friend with the dreaded words "In Loving Memory" on it...  After recovering from the initial shock, I found out that indeed he passed on the previous day...

I guess that we're bound to feel this way when we see someone with a whole future mapped out before them is then snatched away in the blink of an eye. It hurts even more I guess when it's someone we know, someone we've spoken to, someone we shared something with...

I have to admit that I'm not the closest of friends to Peter in his lifetime. We crossed path in school where he was 5 years my junior and when he eventually came to the morning session, I had left the school to further my studies... I did however get the opportunity to get to know him when we both served the church as altar servers... Despite being assigned to different services, we'd meet here and there during activities, meeting et al...

Despite that being over a decade & a half back and a brief one at that, I remembered thinking then that this is one cheerful chap... He'd happily helped out when we were making preparations for solemnities & feast days in church... He never complained when the then sacristan (a stern looking nun) instructed him to do a spot of cleaning, decorating & polishing... And he'd almost always be surrounded by laughter with his jokes and anecdotes...

Thanks to the wonder of Facebook, we were connected again earlier this year... We shared a common interest in football so it was an easy transition from not speaking over the years to being "buddies" again... I guess there in lies the regret... Not actually going beyond the odd posts & comments instead of being a friend in the real sense... A friend who's a listener... One who dispenses advice... One who's concerned with his well being & daily state of affair...

Now that Peter is gone in his mortal form, the world would definitely be a lesser places especially for those who knew him well... At this juncture, I could only implore that God gives Peter a merciful judgment. through  prayers.. In upholding his faith over the years, I'm certain that he's currently enjoying eternity with the company of angels and saints...

According to Elisabeth Kübler-Ross, when we're dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five distinct stages of grief.

We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can't imagine it's true.

We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves.

Then we bargain. We beg. We plead. We offer everything we have, we offer our souls in exchange for just one more day.

When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we've done everything we can. We let go.

We let go and move into acceptance...

Peter would remain always in our memories... Cheers bro... Till we meet again...

A Letter From Home

I had a safe trip. The angels carried me safely into Father Abraham's bosom. Oh, the thrill I felt when I met the one that died for me!

And no matter what you've heard, there's just no words to describe the glories that surround him. I'm satisfied here; every need's been supplied. Just wait till you see my new home.

I'm satisfied because there's no sin here, no murders, no divorce, no abortions, and no need to ever have locks on the doors. Perfect peace reigns here. I'm satisfied because there's no sickness. Why, I've never felt better in my life! I have a brand new body just like Jesus.

And oh, I wish you could hear the singing. David played his harp today, and a great crowd gathered by the river of life and sang a new song. Of course, the angels couldn't sing that song, but they sure were listening. It's really wonderful here, because there are no strangers. Everyone knows me by name.

Why, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego showed me around. Seems like I've been here forever. The weather is great. There's a cool breeze blowing all the time. And you know one of the nicest things, night and darkness never comes. It's light here all the time, for Jesus himself is the light of the city.

Please, remember, I'm safe, I'm satisfied, and I'm not sick anymore. There will be no need for me to write again, because I was told today that nothing here ever changes. In closing, the only thing that would make this wonderful place more complete is for all my family and friends to join me here in Heaven.

Keep The Faith

 "Let me explain the problem science has with Jesus Christ."
The atheist professor of philosophy pauses before his class and then asks one of his new students to stand.

"You're a Christian, aren't you, son?"

"Yes sir," the student says.

"So you believe in God?"

"Absolutely."

"Is God good?"

"Sure! God's good, and I will Keep The Faith."

"Is God all-powerful? Can God do anything?"

"Yes."

"Are you good or evil?"

"The Bible says I'm evil."

The professor grins knowingly. "Aha! The Bible!" He considers for a moment. "Here's one for you. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help them? Would you try?"

"Yes sir, I would."

"So you're good...!"

"I wouldn't say that."

"But why not say that? You'd help a sick and maimed person if you could. Most of us would if we could. But God doesn't."

The student does not answer, so the professor continues. "He doesn't, does he? My brother was a Christian who died of cancer, even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Hmmm? Can you answer that one?"

The student remains silent.

"No, you can't, can you?" the professor says. He takes a sip of water from a glass on his desk to give the student time to relax.

"Let's start again, young fella. Is God good?"

"Er... Yes," the student says.

"Is Satan good?"

The student doesn't hesitate on this one. "No."

"Then where does Satan come from?"

The student falters. "From... God..."

That's right. God made Satan, didn't he? Tell me, son. Is there evil in this world?"

"Yes, sir."

"Evil's everywhere, isn't it? And God did make everything correct?"

"Yes."

"So who created evil?"

Again, the student has no answer.

"Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness. All these terrible things, do they exist in this world?"

The student squirms on his feet. "Yes."

"So who created them?"

The student does not answer again, so the professor repeats his question, "Who created them? "

There is still no answer. Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace in front of the classroom. The class is mesmerized.

"Tell me," he continues. "Do you believe in Jesus Christ, son?"

The student's voice betrays him and cracks. "Yes, professor. I do."

The old man stops pacing. "Science says you have five senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Have you ever seen Jesus?"

"No sir. I've never seen Him."

"Then tell us if you've ever heard your Jesus?"

"No, sir. I have not."

"Have you ever felt your Jesus, tasted your Jesus or smelt your Jesus? Have you ever had any sensory perception of Jesus Christ, or God for that matter."

"No, sir, I'm afraid I haven't."

"Yet you still believe in him?"

"Yes."

"According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that son?"

"Nothing," the student replies. "I only have my faith."

"Yes, faith," the professor repeats. "And that is the problem science has with God. There is no evidence, only faith."

The student stands quietly for a moment, before asking a question of his own.

"Professor, is there such thing as heat?"

"Yes," the professor replies. "There's heat."

"And is there such a thing as cold?"

"Yes, son, there's cold too."

"No sir, there isn't."

The professor turns to face the student, obviously interested. The room suddenly becomes very quiet. The student begins to explain.

"You can have lots of heat, even more heat, super-heat, mega-heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat, but we don't have anything called 'cold'. We can hit 458 degrees below zero, which is no heat, but we can't go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold; otherwise we would be able to go colder than - 458 degrees. You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it."

Silence across the room. A pen drops somewhere in the classroom, sounding like a hammer.

"What about darkness, professor. Is there such a thing as darkness?"

"Yes," the professor replies without hesitation. "What is night if it isn't darkness?"

"You're wrong again, sir. Darkness is not something; it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light... but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn't you?"

The professor begins to smile at the student in front of him. This will be a good semester.

"So what point are you making, young man?"

"Yes, professor. My point is, your philosophical premise is flawed to start with and so your conclusion must also be flawed."

The professor's face cannot hide his surprise this time. "Flawed? Can you explain how?"

"You are working on the premise of duality," the student explains. "You argue that there is life and then there's death; a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can't even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, just the absence of it. Now tell me, professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?"

"If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, young man, yes, of course I do."

"Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?"

The professor begins to shake his head, still smiling, as he realizes where the argument is going. A very good semester indeed.

"Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you now not a scientist, but a preacher?"

The class is in uproar. The student remains silent until the commotion has subsided.

"To continue the point you were making earlier, let me give you an example of what I mean?" The student looks around the room.

"Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the professor's brain?"

The class breaks out into laughter.

"Is there anyone here who has ever heard the professor's brain, felt the professor's brain, touched or smelt the professor's brain? No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, with all due respect, sir."

So if science says you have no brain, how can we trust your lectures, sir?"

Now the room is silent. The professor just stares at the student, his face unreadable.

Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answers. "I guess you'll have to take them on faith."

Faith

Fruit of Faith Shield of Faith With TRIALS, we grow stronger in faith.
With FAITH, we move closer to God.
With GOD, we can do all things.
Keep the FAITH!





 

Mission Impossible

Charles was no stranger to prison life. This was the third time he had been incarcerated in less than 2 years. The police knew him well. 

Sharing a cell with drug users, thieves, rapists, and murderers, Charles was considered, according to Nepalese law, the worst of criminals. He had been arrested again and again for converting Buddhists and Hindus to Christianity. Anyone who was caught baptizing a new believer would be sentenced to death.

 

On the king's birthday, Charles was released from prison and he returned to his small house nestled in the foothills of the Himalayan Mountains. His American friend Rick arrived as planned. They sat over a rickety table enjoying their bowls of rice with steamy vegetables, and gave thanks to the Lord for Charles' deliverance once more from jail. Then they discussed their next mission to bring the light of the gospel to the darkness of souls.

 

At daybreak, the young men drove to the end of the existing road. Then, by foot, they walked to the path's end. They walked through rice fields and pulled themselves up the steep sides of the hilltops, then dipped back down into lush green valleys. The following day they walked through three ice cold rivers, holding their knapsacks above their heads.

 

Before them lay the village. Rick and Charles preached, ministered to the needs of the people, and baptized the new converts. At the end of the few days, they went deeper into the country.

 

"This is going to be the hardest village," Charles explained. "Its stronghold here is a witch doctor the people revere and fear."

 

Before beginning any work, the men prayed and fasted in the humble home of one of the few Christians who lived in that part of the country. On the third day, Rajen the witch doctor called for them. Speaking through Charles as an interpreter, he told them, "I know you have come to preach and to convert my people. Please eat this wonderful food I have prepared for you." Not wanting to offend him, Charles and Rick ate until their bellies were full. Rajen sat watching them for a long time before speaking again.

 

"You may tell my people about your God but you must not convert them to Christianity," he warned.

 

"What if they want to become Christians?" Rick asked.

 

"You may tell them about your God and how He has worked in your life, but nothing else."

 

That night all the village people gathered around the smoky fires and listened to the two young men speak. They fascinated with the Nepalese man and with how fair the young white American looked. Rick and Charles spoke for a long time about a Baby that was born in a far-off country, and how this Baby grew up and performed miracles. The village people thought this Jesus must have been a good man.

 

The next day the witch doctor called for them again. Once more a meal was spread out before them and Rajen pointed to it. The two young ministers sat cross-legged on mats and ate until they were full. Rajen watched them carefully.

 

"You may tell them more about your God tonight. If anyone wants to become a Christian it is all right. No harm will come to them in this village."

 

Rick and Charles rejoiced. Through prayer they had battled many strongholds; now they prayed for a harvest of souls in this village. That evening they continued telling about Jesus. They explained that He was the Son of God and that because of Him no more blood sacrifices were necessary, because His blood atoned for all our sins.

 

When Rick and Charles had finished sharing the gospel, people came forward, forsaking their gods for the one true God. Rick noticed Rajen watching from the shadows, beyond the light of the fires. Charles and Rick prayed through the night for God to soften the witch doctor's heart.

 

On the third day they were summoned again to Rajen. They sat and ate, and again the witch doctor touched nothing. But he was quieter and seemed withdrawn. When they finished eating, Rajen in a raspy voice that shook said, "You may do whatever you would like to do."

Once outside, Rick hollered, "Yahoo!" and clicked his heels together as Charles laughed at him. They knew that God had answered and removed the enemy's stronghold from around the village. That night after Charles and Rick preached, nearly every one in the village came forward to accept Jesus into their hearts.

 

The next day Charles and Rick spent hours baptizing the new converts in the river. "This will be known from now on as a Christian village and other preachers will follow us to do more work here," Charles explained to Rick.

 

Before them in the water stood Rajen. His cockiness was gone and his eyes were dark and empty. "I want your God," he proclaimed.

 

Rick and Charles prayed with Rajen and he became a new creation in Jesus Christ. Then they baptized him in the cold mountain river.

 

"When you are finished here," he said, "come to see me."

 

This time there was no food spread before them. "For the past 3 days you have eaten my food," Rajen began. "With my own eyes I watched you put it into your mouths."

 

From a large box Rajen pulled a huge dead rat. "I put poison in your food. See, it killed this rat. But it does not kill you. It did not even make you sick. Your God is much more powerful than my magic. And your God loves you and protects you. I want this God and this love inside my heart."

 

Rick and Charles began to rejoice and thank God for this miracle.

 

"But before I decided I wanted to know your Jesus, I sent a man from the village to get the Nepalese police. The message said you were converting and baptizing. You must flee for your lives. I am truly sorry for this. But I did not realize at the time that your God was the one true God." Rajen wept.

 

In an hour Charles and Rick had packed their belongings and were ready for the trip down the mountainside and said their good-byes to the people. As they walked through the clearing, Rajen stood with a small knapsack, ready to accompany them. "I want to come," he told them, "I want to learn more about Jesus."

 

The three Christian brothers walked in single file along the dusty path, moving quickly, saying little. They crossed two icy rivers and didn't stop to change or even to dry off. Charles would be killed this time if he were caught, and Rick would be jailed and then expelled from the country.

 

The road widened, but down the mountain they saw troops walking steadily toward them. There was no place to run, nowhere to hide. They began to pray. Suddenly a fog grew around the side of the mountain and covered them and the soldiers. Charles, Rick and Rajen walked with their shoulders scraping the side of the mountain as the Nepalese soldiers passed within inches on the other side of them, never seeing them through the heavy fog.

 

This was an impossible mission from beginning to end. But Jesus is a Master of the impossible. All things are possible with Him. Since that time, Charles and his family have had to leave Nepal. But their work has not diminished; instead it has grown. A Bible school has been established in India and from there young ministers go into Nepal to continue the work Charles started. 

Where there was once only a handful of Christian ministers there are now dozens walking through the mountains, preaching and baptizing believers in the cold rivers. Rajen is one of these ministers.

If I Had To Live My Life Over

I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day. 

I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage. 

I would have talked less and listened more.

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained, or the sofa faded. 

I would have eaten the popcorn in the 'good' living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace. 

I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth. 

I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband. 

I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. 

I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains. 

I would have cried and laughed less while watching television-and more while watching life. 

I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. 

Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. 

When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." 

There would have been more "I love you's.". More "I'm sorry's" 

But mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute...look at it and really see it ...live it...and never give it back. S

top sweating the small stuff. Don't worry about who doesn't like you, who has more, or who's doing what. Instead, let's cherish the relationships we have with those who Do love us. 

Let's think about what God HAS blessed us with. And what we are doing each day to promote ourselves mentally, physically, emotionally, as well as spiritually. 

Life is too short to let it pass you by. 

We only have one shot at this and then it's gone. I hope you all have a blessed day.

by Emma Bombeck after she found she was dying from cancer

Have You Tasted My Jesus?

At the University of Chicago Divinity School each year they have what is called "Baptist Day". It is a day when all the Baptists in the area are invited to the school because they want the Baptist dollars to keep coming in.

On this day each one is to bring a lunch to be eaten outdoors in a grassy picnic area. Every "Baptist Day" the school would invite one of the greatest minds to lecture in the theological education enter.

One year they invited Dr. Paul Tillich. Dr. Tillich spoke for 2 ½ hours proving that the resurrection of Jesus was false. He quoted scholar after scholar and book after book. He concluded that since there was no such thing as the historical resurrection the religious tradition of the church was groundless, emotional mumbo-jumbo, because it was based on a relationship with a risen Jesus, who in fact, never rose from the dead in any literal sense. He then asked if there were any questions. After about 30 seconds, an old, dark skinned preacher with a head of short-cropped, woolly white hair stood up in the back of the auditorium.

Docta Tillich, I got one question, he said as all eyes turned toward him. He reached into his sack lunch and pulled out an apple and began eating it.

"Docta Tillich (CRUNCH, MUNCH), My question is a simple question (CRUNCH, MUNCH). Now, I ain't never read them books you read (CRUNCH, MUNCH) and I can't recite the Scriptures in the original Greek (CRUNCH, MUNCH). I don't know nothin' about Niebuhr and Heidegger (CRUNCH, MUNCH)..." He finished the apple.

"All I wanna know is: This apple I just ate, was it bitter or sweet?"

Dr. Tillich paused for a moment and answered in exemplary scholarly fashion: I cannot possibly answer that question, for I haven't tasted your apple.

The white-haired preacher dropped the core of his apple into his crumpled paper bag, looked up at Dr. Tillich and said calmly, "Neither have you tasted my Jesus." The 1000 plus in attendance could not contain themselves. The auditorium erupted with applause and cheers.

Dr. Tillich thanked his audience and promptly left the platform.

Have you tasted Jesus? Please pass this on Saints! God has risen, and he's coming back one day!

Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him. If you have, rejoice in the hope of the resurrection that your faith in Him brings. Psalm 34:8

Does God Still Speak To Us?

A young man had been to Wednesday night Bible Study. The Pastor shared about listening to God and obeying the Lord's voice. The young man couldn't help but wonder, "Does God still speak to people?" 

After service he went out with some friends for coffee and pie and discussed the message. Several different ones talked about how God had led them in different ways. It was about ten o'clock when the young man started driving home. 

Sitting in his car, he just began to pray, "God.. If you still speak to people, speak to me. I will listen. I will do my best to obey." As he drove down the main street of his town, he had the strangest thought, to stop and buy a gallon of milk. He shook his head and said "God, is that you?" He didn't get a reply and started on home. But again, the thought, buy a gallon of milk. 

The young man thought about Samuel and how he didn't recognize the voice of God, and how little Samuel ran to Eli. "Okay, God, in case that is you. I will buy the milk." It didn't seem like too hard a test of obedience. He could always use the milk. He stopped and purchased the gallon of milk and started off toward home. 

As he passed Seventh Street, he again felt the urge, turn down that street. "This is crazy", he thought and drove on past the intersection. Again, he felt that he should turn down Seventh Street. 

At the next intersection, he turned back and headed down Seventh. Half jokingly, he said out loud, "Okay, God, I will." He drove several blocks, when suddenly, he felt like he should stop. He pulled over to the curb and looked around. He was in a semi-commercial area of town. It wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst of either. The businesses were closed and most of the houses looked dark like the people were already in bed. 

Again, he sensed something. "Go and give the milk to the people in the house across the street." The young man looked at the house. It was dark and it looked like the people were either gone or they were already asleep. He started to open the door and then sat back in the car seat. "Lord, this is insane. Those people are asleep and if I wake them up, they are going to be mad and I will look stupid." Again he felt like he should go and give the milk. 

Finally, he opened the door, "Okay God, if this is you, I will go to the door and I will give them the milk. If you want me to look like a crazy person, okay. I want to be obedient. I guess that will count for something but if they don't answer right away, I am out of here." He walked across the street and rang the bell, He could hear some noise inside. A man's voice yelled out, "Who is it? What do you want?" Then the door opened before the young man could get away. The man was standing there in his jeans and T-shirt. He looked like he just got out of bed. 

He had a strange look on his face and he didn't seem too happy to have some stranger standing on his doorstep. "What is it?" The young man thrust out the gallon of milk, "Here, I brought this to you." 

The man took the milk and rushed down a hallway speaking loudly in Spanish. Then from down the hall came a woman carrying the milk toward the kitchen. The man was following her holding a baby. The baby was crying. The man had tears streaming down his face. 

The man began speaking half crying, "We were just praying. We had some big bills this month and we ran out of money. We didn't have any milk for our baby. I was just praying and asking God to show me how to get some milk." His wife in the kitchen yelled out, "I ask him to send an Angel with some. Are you an Angel?" 

The young man reached into his wallet and pulled out all the money he had on him and put it in the man's hand. He turned and walked back toward his car and the tears were streaming down his face. He knew that God still answers prayers.

God Explained

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 here 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 besides bedtime. God doesn’t have time to listen to the radio or TV on account of this.  Since He hears everything, not only prayers, 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 parent’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 OK.
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, of course.
You can pray anytime you want and they are sure to hear you because they got it worked out so one of them is on duty all the times.
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 to 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 very good 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.”

Written by Danny Dutton, age 8, from Chula Vista, California, for his third grade homework assignment to “Explain God".

Golden Bricks...

There once was a rich man who was dying. While on his death bed, he tried to negotiate with God to have God allow him to bring his earthly treasures with him to heaven.

"God, please, I have worked so hard to accumulate all these riches. Can't I bring them along?" 

"This is very unusual," said God, "but since you have been such a faithful steward, I will allow you to bring one suitcase." 

The man immediately had a servant fill a large suitcase with gold bricks. Shortly thereafter, he died. When he arrived at the pearly gates, he was stopped by St. Peter. 

"I'm sorry sir, but you know the rule -- 'you can't take it with you.' You may enter, but the suitcase has to stay outside." 

"But God told me I could bring one suitcase," the man protested. 

"Well, if God says it's O.K. -- but I still need to examine the contents before you enter." 

St. Peter took the suitcase from the man and opened it. Looking very puzzled, he couldn't understand why the man had brought gold bricks. 

St. Peter turned to another angel and broke out in a laughter. The rich man was very puzzled on why St. Peter was laughing as he just stared at the gold bricks. 

The other angel was confused as well on why St. Peter was laughing so much, but when he finally looked into the suitcase, he too began to laugh. 

Finally, as the two angels were able to gain control of themselves from their laughter, they spoke together in one voice asking, "Why did you bring pavement to heaven?"

Who Makes The Coffee?

A man and his wife were having an argument about who should brew the coffee each morning. 

The wife said, "You should do it, because you get up first, and then we don't have to wait as long to get our coffee". 

The husband said, " You are in charge of the cooking around here and you should do it, because that is your job, and I can just wait for my coffee." 

Wife replies, "No you should do it, and besides it is in the Bible that the man should do the coffee." 

Husband replies, " I can't believe that, show me." 

So she fetched the Bible, and opened the New Testament and shows him at the top of several pages, that it indeed says . 

"HEBREWS"

What Causes Arthritis?

A man, who smelled like a distillery, flopped down on a subway seat next to a priest. The man's tie was stained, his face was plastered with red lipstick, and a half-empty bottle of gin was sticking out of his torn coat pocket. He opened his newspaper and began reading.
After a few minutes the disheveled man turned to the priest and said, "Say, Father, what causes arthritis?"
"Mister, it's caused by loose living, being with cheap wicked women, too much alcohol, and a contempt for your fellow man."
"Well, I'll be damned," the drunk muttered, returning to his paper.
The priest, thinking about what he had said, nudged the man and apologized. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean to come on so strong.
How long have you had arthritis?"
"I don't have it, Father. I was just reading that the Pope does."

God Provides...

A young woman brought her fiancé home to meet her parents. After dinner, her mother told her father to find out about the young man.

The father invited the fiancé to his study for a talk. “So what are your plans?” the father asked the young man. 

.

“I am a biblical scholar,” he replied. 

“A Biblical scholar. Hmmm,” the father said. “Admirable, but what will you do to provide a nice house for my daughter to live in?”

“I will study,” the young man replied, ”and God will provide for us.”

“And how will you buy her a beautiful engagement ring, such as she deserves?” asked the father.

“I will concentrate on my studies,” the young man replied, “God will provide for us.”

“And children?” asked the father. “How will you support children?” 

“Don’t worry, sir, God will provide,” replied the fiancé.

The conversation proceeded like this, and each time the father questioned, the young idealist insisted that God would provide. 

Later, the mother asked, “How did it go, Honey?” 

The father answered, “He has no job and no plans, and he thinks I’m God.”

The Teacher, The Garbage Collector & The Lawyer...

One day, a teacher, a garbage collector, and a lawyer all die and go to Heaven. St. Peter's there, and when they get to the gate, St. Peter informs them that there will be a test to get into Heaven: they each have to answer one question.
To the teacher, he says, "What was the name of the ship that crashed into the Iceberg and sank with all its passengers?"
The teacher thinks for a second, and then replies:" That would have been the Titanic, right?" St. Peter lets him through the gate.
St. Peter turns to the Garbage man and, knowing that he was not real good on earth, decides to make the question a little harder: "How many people died on the ship?"
The garbage man guesses: "1228"
"That happens to be right; go ahead."
St. Peter turns to the Lawyer: "Name them."

Praise The Lord...

There was a little old lady who would come out every morning on the steps of her front porch, raise her arms to the sky, and shout, "Praise the Lord!"

Well, one day an atheist moved into the house next door. Over time, he became irritated at the little old lady. So every morning he would step out onto his front porch and yell after her, "There is no Lord!"

Time passed with the two of them carrying on this way every day. Then one morning in the middle jof winter, the little old lady stepped onto her front porch and shouted, "Praise the Lord! Lord, I have no food and I am starving. Please provide for me, oh Lord!" 

The next morning, She stepped onto her porch and there were two huge bags of groceries sitting there. "Praise the Lord!" she cried out. "He has provided groceries for me!" 

The atheist jumped out of the hedges and shouted, "There is no Lord. I bought those groceries!" 

The little old lady threw her arms into the air and shouted, "Praise the Lord! He has provided me with groceries, and He made the devil pay for them!

The Creation of Mothers

While the Good Lord was creating Mothers, He was well into his sixth day of overtime. Then an angel appeared and said, "You’re doing a lot of fiddling around on this one!"

And the Lord said, "Have you read the specifications of this order? She has to be completely washable, but not plastic. Have 180 moveable parts, all replaceable. Run on black coffee and left overs. Have a lap that disappears when she stand up and a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a disappointed love affair. Plus, she has to have six pair of hands!"

The angel shook her head slowly and said, "Six pair of hands!!? Not possible!"

"Oh, its not the hands that are causing me problems," said the Lord. "It’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have."

"That’s on the standard model?" asked the angel.

The Lord nodded. "One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ‘What are you doing in there?’, when she already knows. Another here in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t, but what she has to know. And of course, the ones here in the front that can look at a child and reflect, ‘I understand, and I love’ , without so much as saying a word."

"Lord," said the angel touching His sleeve gently, "Get some rest. Finish this tomorrow."

"I can’t," answered the Lord. "I’m so close to creating something so close to Myself. Already I have one that heals herself when she’s sick. Can feed a family of six on one pound of hamburger and can get a nine year old to stand under a shower."

The angel circled the model of the mother very slowly and sighed, "But it’s too soft."

"And yet she’s tough?" said the Lord excitedly. "You cannot imagine what the mother can handle or do!"

"Can it think?" asked the angel.

"Not only think, but it can reason and compromise!" answered the Creator.

Finally the angel bent over and ran her fingers across the mothers cheek. ‘There’s a leak!" she pronounced. "I told you. You were trying to put to much in this model! You can’t ignore the stress factor."

The Lord moved in closer to look and gently lifted the drop of moisture to His finger where it glistened and sparkled in the light. "It’s not a leak," He said. "It’s a tear."

"A tear?" asked the angel. "What’s it for?"

"It’s for Joy, Sadness, Disappointment, Compassion, Pain, Loneliness and Pride."

And the angel exclaimed, "You're a genius!!!"

The Lord looked somber and replied, "I didn’t put it there."

St Peter, Satan & The Nut Tree

There was a huge nut tree by the cemetery fence. One day, two boys filled up a bucketful of nuts and sat down by the tree, out of sight, and began dividing the nuts. "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me," said one boy. The bucket was so full, several rolled out towards the fence. 

Cycling down the road by the cemetery was a third boy. As he passed, he thought he heard voices from inside the cemetery. He slowed down to investigate. Sure enough, he heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you." He knew what it was. "Oh my!" he shuddered, "It's Satan and St. Peter dividing the souls at the cemetery!"

He cycled down the road and found an old man with a cane, hobbling along. "Come quick!" he said, "You won't believe what I heard. Satan and St. Peter are down at the cemetery dividing the souls." 

The man said, "Shoo, you brat! Can't you see I'm finding it hard to walk as it is!" 

After several pleas, the man hobbled to the cemetery and heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you, one..." 

The old man whispered, "Boy, you've been tellin' the truth! Let's see if we can see the Devil himself." 

Shivering with fear, they edged toward the fence, still unable to see anything, but they heard, "One for you, one for me. One for you, one for me. And one last one for you. That's all. Let's go get those nuts by the fence, and we'll be done."

They say the old guy made it to town 10 minutes before the boy!

Professional

A woman was getting a pie ready to put into the oven when the phone rang. It was the school nurse: Her son had some down with a high fever, and would she come and take him home?

The mother calculated how long it would take to drive to school and back, and how long the pie should bake, and concluded there was enough time. Popping the pie in the oven, she left for school. When she arrived, her son's fever was worse, and the nurse urged her to take him to the doctor.

Seeing her son like that -- his face flushed, his body trembling and dripping with perspiration -- frayed her, and she drove to the clinic as fast as she dared. She was frayed a bit more waiting for the doctor to emerge from the examining room, which he was doing now, walking toward her with a slip of paper in his hand.
"Get him to bed," he told her, handing her the prescription, "and start him on this right away."
By the time she got the boy home and in bed and headed out again for the shopping mall, she was not only frayed, but frazzled and frantic as well. And she had forgotten about the pie in the oven. At the mall she found a pharmacy, got the prescription filled and rushed back to the car . . . . . . which was locked.
Yes, there were her keys, hanging in the ignition switch, locked inside the car. She ran back into the mall, found a phone and called home. When her son finally answered, she blurted out, "I've locked the keys inside the car!"
The boy was barely able to speak. In a hoarse voice he whispered, "Get a wire coat hanger, Mom. You can get in with that." The phone went dead.
She began searching the mall for a wire coat hanger -- which turned out not to be easy. Wooden hangers and plastic hangers were there in abundance, but shops didn't use wire hangers anymore. After combing through a dozen stores, she found one that was behind the times just enough to use wire hangers.
Hurrying out of the mall, she allowed herself a smile of relief. As she was about to step off the curb, she halted. She stared at the wire coat hanger.
"I don't know what to do with this!"
Then she remembered the pie in the oven. All the frustrations of the past hour collapsed on her and she began crying. Then she prayed, "Dear Lord, my boy is sick and he needs this medicine and my pie is in the oven and the keys are locked in the car and, Lord, I don't know what to do with this coat hanger. Dear Lord, send somebody who does know what do with it, and I really need that person NOW, Lord. Amen,"
She was wiping her eyes when a beat-up older car pulled up to the curb and stopped in front of her. A young man, twentyish-looking, in a T-shirt and ragged jeans, got out. The first thing she noticed about him was the long, stringy hair, and then the beard that hid everything south of his nose. He was coming her way.
When he drew near she stepped in front of him and held out the wire coat hanger. "Young man," she said, "do you know how to get into a locked car with one of these?" He gaped at her for a moment, then plucked the hanger from her hand.
"Where's the car?"
Telling the story, she said she had never seen anything like it -- it was simply amazing how easily he got into her car. A quick look at the door and window, a couple of twists of the coat hanger and bam! Just like that, the door was open.
When she saw the door open she threw her arms around him. "Oh," she said, "the Lord sent you! You're such a good boy. You must be a Christian,"
He stepped back and said, "No ma'am, I'm not a Christian, and I'm not a good boy. I just got out of prison yesterday."
She jumped at him and she hugged him again -- fiercely. "Bless the Lord!" she cried. "He sent me a professional!"