What Really Matters

I made myself a new friend. Ah me, what a dream, I haven’t even met her! Let’s start again; I wish I could have her for a dear friend. Everyone applauds her for her sewing ability and no doubt, it was wonderful, but I don’t think that is the reason people cried when she died suddenly. Would you weep just because someone who made you a garment passed away? I think not. Would you if you were desperately poor, and it was the only decent thing you had to wear? I doubt it, after all, a brand new, possibly heavy, homespun garment would last quite a while, and even if it didn’t, that isn’t what you would remember her by.

               Really? So what was? Dorcas was one special woman. Her heart was overflowing with love. These were poverty-stricken widows and others to whom she ministered. Widows, get that? Wives’ and mothers whose husbands’, the father to their children, had died, possibly drowned at sea because Joppa was a seacoast town. They were heartbroken, lonesome and she cared.

Sure, they showed anyone interested the tangible evidence of how kind she was to them, but that wasn’t the most important part.

Here was someone that loved them, shared their suffering and when she died they couldn’t bear to let her go.

               I guess Peter couldn’t either, because when he was summoned from a nearby town, he dropped everything he was doing, and came.

               It was a tremendous miracle when Dorcas rose from the dead and many became Christians because of it, but let’s not remember her for doing acts of mercy, but for showing compassion.

               Hey, Dorcas, may I get to know you in Heaven and be your friend, there?

Mommy Loves You!

I don’t know your name, or your exact story, but I do know you’re hurting, sad. Just a few years ago you looked at ‘them’ with wide, uncomprehending eyes. You were a child, innocent, bewildered that people could do such things. Even in your childlike way you know they were being bad. But they kept on being bad, and when you cried they hurt you, too. You were a child, innocent and uncomprehending. For a while you would block it out because you couldn’t understand it anyways, sometimes you would even forget long enough to play a little.

But that didn’t last. As the abuse got worse, and they started to do it to you more and more often, you became afraid, it became harder to forget the cruelty and other things you didn’t know the names for.

After a while you were big enough to go to school. Someone saw your round, horror-filled eyes and they knew. They knew you had seen too much, suffered too much, but they didn’t know what to do.

That happened to me. I saw a little girl on the street once, she looked at me, I looked at her, and I saw. I read the message of pain in her eyes but felt helpless to do anything.

I still feel helpless, and want to do more, so, so much more. Sometimes I cry when girls just like you tell me the terrible things that bad ‘Daddy’s’ do to them.

I know you are afraid to share with me and I know why. You have learned not to trust adults. I want to let you know I care, I will believe you, I will LOVE you. When you are ready you may contact me on Hangouts. Others have. Remember I love YOU and I’m praying for YOU. Will you give me a call so I can show my love, and pray more effectively?

Just call me

Mommy

The others do.

Do You Want to Go to Heaven?

Have you ever asked someone if they wanted to go to Heaven and they replied, “Nope, I am not interested. “ If there is such a fellow, or gal, I’d like to have a little chat with them. I’m curious to know why they had formed such an opinion.

For the majority of us, though, I think we instinctively  are longing for a Better Place after this life is over.  Life has been difficult for most of us at one time or another, and for some it has been down right rotten.

Someone said “hope springs eternal in the human breast.” I can’t remember who to attribute those words to, but they are such a classic quote they will not soon be forgotten. I believe it is a God-given longing to hope for something better after this life.

And there is, something better that is. There are a few requirements of course. We have to admit that we are sinners and Jesus died to cleanse us from our sins.

It’s a high, narrow road, this climb to Heaven, so better make sure the right things are in our backpacks so that they don’t drag us down. Worse yet, if the load shifts, we might be knocked clear off the cliff.

Okay, what are some of the things that we oughtn’t to care along with us? Well there’s offendedness and unforgiveness to name a couple. God had taken them away when we first came to Him, but we do have a way of picking them up, again, you know.

Everyone has their own ‘sins that easily besets them’ as the Bible says, and they do vary from time to time. Sometimes they want to cling like barnacles to the inside of the knapsack, let Jesus help you clean them out, you don’t need them.

Some don’t want to go there if their pets won’t be waiting on “Yonder Shore’ for them.  Why make a decision based on that? You don’t know for sure whether they will or won’t be, so commit that to Christ, also.

Some of us are easily distracted by the attractions of this world, getting rich or famous, having fun, being fit, well you name it. All of that is great, well to a certain extent, but don’t let it cloud our vision.

I really truly believe that Heaven will be far, far better than the most imaginative of us can ever picture.  Let’s get there.

P.S. I almost forgot something really important. We don't have to go around with an empty backpack, Jesus gives us some lightweight stuff to carry along with us that's really wonderful,  Love, Joy and Peace to name a few. 

Enjoy your spiritual journey. 

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Are You Intimidated?

Are You Intimidated?

Do you ever feel like kids are brats, and that’s not in the old-fashioned way when brat simply meant child?

Helen Keller was a classic example of a brat, but the most grudging among us would have to admit she had reason to be. She wasn’t born deaf and blind, but got that way from some sort of disease at the age of two.

At first Helen managed quite well. She had a little playmate, the cook’s daughter, who was two or three years older than her. This little girl was quite keen in catching the signals that indicated what Helen wanted to do.

Once when the girls were weary of cutting out paper dolls from a catalogue, Helen got the idea of snipping off Martha Washington’s tight little curls which were tied with string. Well, Martha wanted to return the ‘favor’ but after one long, gold strand was severed, Mama came to the rescue and put a stop to the beauty salon business.

As Helen grew older, her horizons widened, or rather she sensed they should be, but her handicaps were limiting her, and that made her increasingly frustrated. Her temper tantrums were getting so fierce and frequent that her parents were desperate to find help.

That’s when Anne Sullivan came on the scene. She was a young, trained teacher who took on the challenge of teaching an unloving, practically unlovable youngster.

Long before Helen would properly respond to love, Anne traced the letters I L O V E Y O U on her hand.

Is there a child in your life who is a challenge? Jesus can give you a deep, deep compassion for him or her, and more than that the inspiration and courage to make a difference that can last forever.

Please, whether you are a teacher, preacher, parent or some other relative or friend, look at that child through new eyes.  They need you to lead them out of their own maze of ‘deafness and blindness’ so they, too,  can become the treasure God created them to be. 

So Who Hates God?

http://www.authorsden.com/

Have you ever noticed that the people who hate God the most seem to know the least about the Bible, and probably have never, ever had a sweet meaningful relationship with Him? I wonder why that is, but suspect that one of the likely reasons

Unexpected Advice

Sometimes God gives us unexpected advice. Like this morning hubby said something that I did not appreciate. It was true enough, sure, but not what I wanted to hear. I was so irked that I knew it was important to flee to the 'closet of prayer' before I let something slip that shouldn't be said.

Then do you know what? God also gave me unexpected advice! He said "Enter His gates with thanksgiving and into His courts with praise." Do you think I was in the mood to do that? No sir!  But I started by thanking Him for all the times He had helped us in the past, and so on.

So did that 'bugged' feeling vanish like a balloon in the sunset sky? Well, no, not quite, but it sure wasn't bad enough to make me snap at the one I love most on earth. And you know what? I even felt kind of happy.

So that's my sermon for today!

A Woman Dearly Loved

I found a poem today that shares what kind of person I am almost better than anything I could say, so I am going to share it.           

To see and watch her is to know

That she is deeply loved. Her face

Reflects this love. Love has left its trace

In her serenity, the glow

Of deep contentment in her eyes.

Her joyous laugh, the cheerful way

She goes about her work each day.

Love halos women, beautifies

The plainest face, for more than bread

To every woman is the knowing

She is cherished: keeps her glowing

With confidence, affection-fed:

Her happiness, so much a part

Of love, enshrined within her heart.

Velma West Sykes

Poor, Sweet Claudine

I suppose some of you might be wondering what happened to Claudine and her baby. I guess I shouldn't have put off finishing this story for so long, but it has been a bit hard to cope with. Claudine was faithful until the end. Amazingly, joyously faithful, something we can't comprehend because we have never been asked to suffer in that way. I believe her heart was broken that she was never able to see her infant again, but even I, with my limited understanding of agony know and have the assurance, that Jesus was there for her. I suppose she often wondered how little Jans was doing but perhaps he died at an early age which was so common in those days. I'm sure yearnings and prayers for her husband and children lingered in her heart at all times, but there was something more. God was giving her strength, she loved Jesus so much, and sensed her Saviour's love in return that she would have gone singing to her death if they wouldn't have gagged her. Well, she's gone to her reward now, and that is no idle platitude and perhaps I will someday get to know her on the Other Side.

The Glass Castle Series

The Glass Castle Series

In this series the church is represented as a castle somewhat reminiscent of Medieval times. For more of the story check the accompanying pages.

In the lookout tower on the Castle of Love, one of the watchmen held the high powered binoculars to his eyes and slowly scanned the desert waste that spread out before him right to the distant horizon.

“Do you see any activity?” The young soldier at his side asked.

The watchman handed the binoculars over to him and pointed. “See that little group at just slightly less than one-oh-five? They seem to be wearying of the way.”
                “Shall I send a dart? One of Agape's darts?”

The watchman shook his head. “No, not yet; hook up the sound waves and we will see if we can catch what they are saying.”

                “Sir?”

                The watchman was intently scanning the desert once again. He looked over the glasses. “Yes?”

                “I recorded the conversation. It is rather faint and staticy in places, but see what you think of it.”

                The watchman adjusted the earphones and turned up the volume, and this is what he made out.

                “Look, everyone, I think there is a castle over yonder.”

                “Sorry, Fiona. That’s just a mirage. There are no castles in these parts.”

                “But what if it was. Just what if! Then we could find rest and shelter.”

                The watchman whipped off the earphones, eyes shining; “Shoot a dart, shoot one of Cupid’s darts,” He cried, “But aim true!”

                Daniel’s hand trembled as he shot not once, not twice but three times! Others crowded around and watched in breathless suspense as the darts glistened and soared in the dry summer’s heat.

                One dart had hit its mark; Fiona’s breast. They exuberantly clapped each other on the back while Daniel snatched up the earphones and someone else the binoculars.

                Fiona’s hand pressed against her chest. “I felt such a warmth come over me when I spoke of that castle, just now. Kelsey, let’s try to find it. Maybe it is a true haven. It looks so beautiful as if the light diffuses from within.”

                Kelsey picked up another dart; it still had a slight glow and was warm to the touch.

                “You maybe are right. I also am weary of this desert land.” But he hesitated, and then threw the dart down. The others had already started to walk on ahead.

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                Daniel whirled to face his Captain. “May I go? May I rush over there and lead them to safety?”

   The Captain was pleased with the youthful enthusiasm. “Go, lad, but remember to use much tact and discretion. They are used to their old ways and may not be eager to change. ”

                The other young recruits leaned over the balustrade surrounding the tower and watched him march swiftly through the gathering darkness, his trusty lamp held high as he traveled.

                 “It’s dangerous out there,” Simon observed.

                “Yes, but he is following instructions, and not going out on his own,” James reminded him.

                Simon nodded as they watched the tiny prick of light grow smaller then leap high when Daniel reached the small group who were sitting on boulders and eating their lunch.

                “May the King bless his efforts,” The watchman murmured with moist eyes, while the others nodded in agreement.