"As long as you are happy, I would be blissful"

Dear P.S.,

Tried REALLY REALLY hard to forgive and to forget...wasn't really successful, I guess...but, at least I tried...very HARD! I was devastated again "that day".....yet.....a simple passage that i picked up from a song i heard on the radio today sent a tinkle...yes!...that was my initial intention i.e. leaving with a blessing...and I'm soooo proud to say that I still carry with me the same thought with the saying, "As long as you are happy, I would be blissful" It's gona be HARD...but I'll try, I promise...not b'coz I'm able BUT GOD is.

as Always, Lots of blessings from me, P.R.

C.C. my GOD papa (I need U, Lord)

D Art of sharing A Shmily For You

My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.
They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. "Shmily" was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet.
There was no end to the places "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats, or taped to steering wheels. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust upon the mantel and traced in the ashes of the fireplace. This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.
It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grandparents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents' relationship. They had love down pat. It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky experience.
Grandma and Grandpa held hands every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble. My grandma whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome and old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew "how to pick 'em." Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other.
But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents' life: my grandmother had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside.
Now the cancer was again attacking her body. With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand, they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife. Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone.
"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby.
Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love, had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.
S-h-m-i-l-y: See How Much I Love You.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me see.

By: Laura Jeanne Allen

...our GOD is an awesome GOD!!!

Author Unknown - But juz wana share it with u all, Bros!!....also to serve as a REMINDER for myself

I know you're tired. I know you feel overwhelmed. You may feel as though this crisis, this problem, this hard time will last forever.
It won't. You are almost through.
You don't just "think" it has been hard; it has been hard. You have been tested, tried, and retested on what you have learned.
Your beliefs and your faith have been tried in fire. You have believed, then doubted, then, worked at believing some more. You have had to have faith even when you could not see or imagine what you were asked to believe. Others around you may have tried to convince you not to believe in what you were hoping you could believe.
You have had opposition. You have not gotten to this place with total support and joy. You have had to work hard, in spite of what was happening around you. Sometimes, what motivated you was anger; sometimes fear.
Things went wrong....more problems occurred than you anticipated. There were obstacles, frustrations, and annoyances en route. You did not plan on this being the way it would evolve. Much of this has been a surprise; some of it has not been at all what you desired.
Yet, it has been good. part of you, the deepest part that knows truth, has sensed this all along, even when your head told you that things were out of whack and crazy, that there was no plan or purpose, that God had forgotten you.
So much has happened, and each incident....the most painful, the most troubling, the most surprising....has a connection. You are beginning to see and sense that.
You never dreamt things would happen this way, did you? But they did. Now you are learning the secret....they were meant to happen this way, and this way is good, better than what you expected.
You didn't believe it would take this long, either...did you? But it did. You have learned patience.
You never thought you could have it, but now you know you do.
You have been led. Many were the moments when you thought you were forgotten, when you were convinced you had been abandoned. Now you know you have been guided. Now things are coming into place. You are almost at the end of this phase, this difficult portion of the journey. The lesson is almost complete. You know....the lesson, you fought, resisted, and insisted you could not learn. Yes, that one. You have almost mastered it.
You have been changed from the inside out. You have been moved to a different level, a higher level, a better level.
You have been climbing a mountain. It has not been easy, but mountain climbing is never easy. Now, you are near the top. A moment longer, and the victory shall be yours.
Steady your shoulders. Breathe deeply. Move forward in confidence and peace. The time is coming to relish and enjoy all which you have fought for. That time is drawing near, finally.
I know you have thought before that the time was drawing near, only to learn that it wasn't. But now, the reward is coming. You know that too. You can feel it.
Your struggle has not been in vain. For every struggle on this journey, there is a climax, a resolution.
Peace, joy, abundant blessings, and reward are yours here on earth. Enjoy!
There will be more mountains, but now you know how to climb them. And you have learned the secret of what is at the top......abundant life! Freedom! Everything that your heart has desired. It will all come to pass.
Remember to keep climbing to the top, don't look back. You will make it because Jesus is leading the way and has a hold on you that will never release. He will make sure that you have success. You will make it. Don't give up! And remember, I love you, but Jesus loves you so much more than I ever could.

...to Mend a Broken Heart???

I was tryin to prepare a decent lunch for myself (cooked pasta) when the ketchup bottle just slipped away from my hand and knocked on my "fav japanese tea pot" (bought it when i was chambering) and broke it. ALAMAK!!!!!! WHY LIKE THAT 1?????? SIGH!!!!! Sad..bc it has always been my favourite and...very sad + upset, coz i have always used it in the past in many different occassions....I was proud of it,... But now,...all that has changed. No longer serves its purpose....Thought of "fixing it" at first, but what's the point????? Meaningless....meaningless.....it will never be the same again....coz there will always be a visible crack just like a deep wound on a broken heart. Guess, sometimes, broken things are best left to be discarded....so that a better and suitable replacement could be found. Should the Jap. T pot not been broken, i would not have the courage n chance to pick another "superior" pot.....to Mend a broken heart???..not this time...sorry coz the scar has reminded me of desertion, betrayal and blank promises!!!

D Art of Sharing Philip's Egg

Philip was born with Downs Syndrome. He was a pleasant child . . .happy it seemed . . . but increasingly aware of the difference between himself and other children. Philip went to Sunday school faithfully every week. He was in the third grade class with nine other eight-year olds.
You know eight-year olds. And Philip, with his differences, was not readily accepted. But his teacher was sensitive to Philip and he helped this group of eight-year olds to love each other as best they could, under the circumstances. They learned, they laughed, and they played together. And they really cared about one another, even though eight-year olds don't say they care about one another out loud.
But don't forget. There was an exception to all this. Philip was not really a part of the group. Philip did not choose, nor did he want to be different. He just was. And that was the way things were.
His teacher had a marvelous idea for his class the Sunday after Easter. You know those things that pantyhose come in . . . the containers that look like great big eggs? The teacher collected ten of them. The children loved it when he brought them into the room and gave one to each child.
It was a beautiful spring day, and the assignment was for each child to go outside, find the symbol for new life, put it into the egg, and bring it back to the classroom They would then open and share their new life symbols and surprises, one by one.
It was glorious. It was confusing. It was wild. They ran all around the church grounds, gathering their symbols, and returned to the classroom.
They put all the eggs on a table, and then the teacher began to open them. All the children gathered around the table. He opened one and there was a flower, and they ooh-ed and aah-ed. He opened another and there was a little butterfly.
"Beautiful!" the girls all said, since it is hard for eight-year old boys to say 'beautiful.' He opened another and there was a rock. And as third-graders will, some laughed, and some said, "That's crazy! How's a rock supposed to be like new life?" But the smart little boy who'd put it in there spoke up: "That's mine. And I knew all of you would get flowers and buds and leaves and butterflies and stuff like that. So I got a rock because I wanted to be different. And for me, that's new life." They all laughed.
The teacher said something about the wisdom of eight-year olds and opened the next one. There was nothing inside. The children, as eight-year olds will, said, "That's not fair. That's stupid! Somebody didn't do it right."
Then the teacher felt a tug on his shirt, and he looked down. "It's mine, Philip said. It's mine."
And the children said, "You don't ever do things right, Philip. There's nothing there!"
"I did so do it right!" Philip said. "I did do it right. The tomb is empty!"
There was silence, a very full silence. And for you people who don't believe in miracles, I want to tell you that one happened that day. From that time on, it was different. Philip suddenly became a part of that group of eight-year old children. They took him in. He was set free from the tomb of his differences.
Philip died last summer. His family had known since the time he was born that he wouldn't live out a full life span. Many other things were wrong with his little body. And so, late last July, with an infection that most normal children could have quickly shrugged off, Philip died.
At his memorial service, nine eight-year old children marched up to the altar, not with flowers to cover over the stark reality of death . . . but nine eight-year olds, along with their Sunday School teacher, marched right up to that altar, and laid on it an empty egg . . . an empty, old, discarded pantyhose egg.
And the tomb is empty!

~Author unknown~

1 Cor 15

Felt disappointed...exhausted...wanted to give up.....so I left early. Went to a place where another "cg" been held. Read about 1 Corinthians 15 and found this comforting verse lurked behind the heading of "The Resurrection Body" ~ Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain. Verse 58

Almost been a year now since i got baptised during last Easter ..so many fond memories with profound impact on my life...yet, nothing has survived the "earthquake" that has brutally uprooted "the Tree" from my heart. Halleluyah!!! God SURVIVED the calamity and HE lives!!!

Broken Vow

Heard this song b4 but never really "like" it (hasn't been my fav) until recently.Well, i wasn't bothered to learn its lyric in the past BUT now i don't even have/need to read it for me to love or memorize the wording....permeates into my heart, naturally. Please DO NOT SPECULATE....Just close ur eyes and listen to Josh Groban.....narrating some1 else's story, I guess...a reflection of "partial" truth, expressed in a song.

BROKEN VOW

Tell me his name, I want to know
The way he looks and where you go
I need to see his face I need to understand
Why you and I came to an end

Tell me again, I want to hear
Who broke my faith in all these years
Who lays with you at night While I'm here all alone
Remembering when I was your own

I let you go, I let you fly
Why do I keep on asking why
I let you go now that I've found
A way to keep somehow
More than a broken vow

Tell me the words I never said
Show me the tears you never shed
Give me the touch The one you promised to be mine
Or has it vanished for all time

I let you go, I let you fly
Why do I keep on asking why
I let you go now that I've found
A way to keep somehow
More than a broken vow

I close my eyes and dream of you and I
And then I realize
There's more to love than only bitterness and lies
I close my eyes

I'd give away my soul
To hold you once again
And never let this promise end

I let you go, I let you fly
Now that I know, I'm asking why
I let you go now that I've found
A way to keep somehow
More than a broken vow

Music and lyrics: Walter Afanasieff and Lara Fabian

Life's .....a constant change

It has been nearly two months now since the "tree" been uprooted from my heart..and various reclamation attempts been made to avoid/prevent further erosion but i guess, not much of a success. ...."curled up like a snail with eyes of that of a turtle while laying eggs". From forgiving to hatred and acceptance to total perplexity...all are sooooo confusing,Yet I truly feel BETRAYAL in my sub-conscious mind! I fought a meaningless battle and defending a "plant" that i shouldn't have and ended up being hurtful (and hurting the ppl around me) and the biggest idiot myself.Dear "enemies", I know....my stupidity has caused me to become the laughing-stock of others. So, come on...laugh at my defeat!!..coz I have lost in a way.

I know things are inevitable sometimes BUT I just HATE the feeling of having to "start all over again" and being in a state of solitude. I HATE to run though i have kinda given that impression lately...running from one place to another...with the aim of deceiving myself that "im still ok".

I can relate to some of the lyrics in some songs that i purposely chose to listen to lately...and "CONSTANT CHANGE" by Jose Mari Chan is one of them. I fell in love with his songs many many years ago after my bro introduced those soothing songs to me.

"CONSTANT CHANGE"

We're on the road, We move from place to place, and oftentimes when i'm about to call it home, We'd have to move along, Life is a constant change....

The friends we know we meet along the way, too soon the times we share form part of yesterday, Cause life's a constant change And nothing stays the same, oh no.

Clouds that move across the skies are changing form before our very eyes.

Why couldn't we keep time from movin on? Hold on to all the years before this moment's gone? Why must we live the days at such a frightening pace?

Have we outgrown our Peter Pans and wings? We've simply grown too old for tales of knights and kings, 'cause life's a constant change and nothing stays the same, oh no.

We're all like clouds that move across the skies, and changing form before our very eyes.

(Words and Music: Jose Mari Chan)

Thank You, Lord coz u have not forsaken me......I need You...I truly need u JESUS!! This I recall to my mind, therefore I have HOPE -Lamentations 3:21

...EVeryDAY...

Every day I need you Lord But this day especially,

I need some extra strength To face what ever is to be.

This day more than any day I need to feel you near,

To fortify my courage And to overcome my fear.

By myself, I cannot meet The challenge of the hour,

There are times when humans help,

But we need a higher power To assist us bear what must be borne,

and so dear Lord, I pray -

Hold on to my trembling hand And be near me today.

God's MATE selection

Everyone longs to give himself or herself completely to someone, to have a deep and committed soul relationship with another, to be loved thoroughly and unconditionally.
But God says: No, not until you are satisfied, fulfilled and content with being loved by Me alone, with giving yourself totally, unreservedly to Me alone.
I love you, My child, and until you discover that only in Me is your satisfaction to be found, you will not be capable of the perfect human relationship that I have planned for you. You will never be united with another until you are united with Me; exclusively of anyone or anything else; exclusively of any other desires and belongings.
I want you to stop planning, stop wishing and allow Me to give you the most thrilling plan existing -- one that you can't imagine. I want you to have the very best. Please allow Me to bring it to you.
Just keep your eyes on Me, expecting the greatest things. Keep experiencing that satisfaction knowing that I AM. Keep learning and listening to the things I tell you. You must be patient.
Don't be anxious. Don't worry.Don't look around at the things others have. Don't look at the things you think you want. Just keep looking up to Me, or you will miss what I want to give you.
And then, when you are ready, I will surprise you with a love far more wonderful than you could ever dream. You see, until you are ready, and until the one I have for you is ready (I am working even this minute to have both of you ready at the same time), until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me and the life I have prepared for you, you won't be able to experience the love that exemplifies your relationship with Me .. and this is perfect love.

...ShaRing it "Anyway"

People are often unreasonable, illogical and self-centered;Forgive them anyway.
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If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives;Be kind anyway.
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If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies;Succeed anyway.
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If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you;Be honest and frank anyway.
»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;Build anyway.
»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous;Be happy anyway.
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The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow;Do good anyway.
»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough;Give the world the best you've got anyway.
»§«:*´`³¤³´`*:»§«
You see, in the final analysis, It is between you and God.It never was between you and them anyway.

D Art of Sharing ~ "SMILE" : )

A little girl walked daily to and from school. Though the weather that morning was questionable and clouds were forming, she made her daily trek to the elementary school.
As the afternoon progressed, the winds whipped up, along with thunder and lightning. The mother of the little girl felt concerned that her daughter would be frightened as she walked home from school, and she herself feared that the electrical storm might harm her child.
Following the roar of thunder, lightning, like a flaming sword, would cut through the sky. Full of concern, the mother quickly got into her car and drove along the route to her child's school.
As she did so, she saw her little girl walking along, but at each flash of lightning, the child would stop, look and smile. Another and another were to follow quickly, each with the little girl stopping, looking at the streak of light and smiling.
Finally, the mother called her over to the car and asked, "What are you doing?"
The child answered, "God just keeps taking pictures of me."
--"And a little child shall lead them...."
Lord, help me to trust You as much as this little one, especially when the storms of life crash around me.

In God's Eye - R U Disposable???

A well known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill. In the room of 200 people, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this."
He proceeded to crumple the dollar bill up. He then asked, "Who still wants it?" Still the hands were up in the air. "Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe.
He picked it up, now all crumpled and dirty; like any other piece of rubbish. "Now who still wants it?" Still the hands went into the air.
"My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20."
We are all used to things being disposable - we throw tons of items away daily when we're finished with them. Sadly, people treat others as if they were disposable too.
But you see..for God, no one is disposable. In the Bible we're told that at the end of the world everything that is wrong and evil will be like rubbish. It will be thrown away and destroyed.
However God does not want a single person to be lost when the evil rubbish of the world is burned. He is patiently waiting for us to allow him to clean us up and put us right. No one is rubbish in God's sight.
The minister took the crumpled note and began to smooth it out. "This is what God wants to do for us: smooth out the hurts where other people have rejected us and sort out the wrong things we have done. Then He wants to take us into His eternal life in Heaven. For God, no one is disposable."
Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value in God's eyes. To Him, dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless.
God is a loving God and does not look at us as the world sometimes does. People sometimes respect us because of our bank statement and not our heart statement. But God wants us to forget about the treasures of this earth and think about His treasure which is Eternal. II Corinthians 4:18 says, "While we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal."
Keep this in mind: The worth of our lives comes not from what we do or who we are, but by whose we are! People may reject us, but God will not. You are special - Don't ever forget that!

HE WILL NEVER LEAVE U!!!

By: Sharon Niese

Helen closed her troubled green eyes and ran her fingers through her tousled hair. She was so scared. She tried to pray,
"Oh Lord, help me deal with this. Help me to be strong." Tears ran freely down her cheeks.
Helen was having a mastectomy today. Both of her breasts had to be removed. Could she handle that? Could her husband handle that? Would he still love her? Her mind was running in every direction. The devil was playing havoc with her and she was letting him. As a Christian she knew that God would never give her more than she could handle. This was close, very close, to more than she could handle. The whole scene terrified her. Nurses coming in and checking her temperature and pulse. The anesthetist telling her how long the surgery would take and what she should expect. Helen knew what to expect: after the surgery she would have no breasts. She prayed once more.
"Oh Lord, you know me better than I know myself. Help me! Grant me your peace.
If only they would let Dick in there. If only there were someone, anyone, to pray with her. She felt so alone. Not only alone, but so scared. Was she being weak? Was she lacking faith? It seemed as if she had been in this holding room for hours. Helen closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. She was close to panic. Even the shot they had given her did not relax her. Why was this happening to her? She didn’t want to question the Lord, but she was. Helen heard the curtain open again and she opened her eyes. An elderly lady with gray-brown hair approached her. She had a sweet smile and her eyes seemed to twinkle. With a soft voice she asked,
"Would you like me to pray with you?" Helen could only nod. The lady took her hand and started to pray. Immediately a peace came over Helen. The fear was replaced with the peace of God. The lady asked the Lord to wrap His arms around Helen and to comfort her. She asked Him to grant her His peace. Helen could feel the presence of the Lord. She could feel His peace. She had never felt a peace like this before. She just let the peace envelop her. She was not even aware that the lady had left. The nurses then came to transport her to the operating room. Helen quickly thanked the nurses for letting the lady come to pray with her. The head nurse looked at her strangely.
"What lady?" she asked. "There is no one allowed back here but hospital staff. Was she a nurse?" Helen shook her head.
"No, she was not a nurse. She was a sweet lady who came to pray with me." The nurse smiled and said,
"That is impossible, dear. Only staff is allowed back here." Helen lay back and said no more. She closed her eyes and whispered,
"Thank You, Lord. Thank you for sending someone to pray with me. Thank you for my peace." After several hours in surgery, Helen woke up in recovery. When the nurses asked how she felt, she just smiled. She felt fine. She knew that the Lord was with her. She knew that she would make it through this with Him by her side. He had promised never to leave her nor forsake her--and He had kept that promise.

**SIGH***

Perhaps, it's not advisable to start the 2nd day of year 2007 with a sigh huh? "Sigh" bc 2006 has just ended...and it marks the beginning of another chapter in our lives. Sorry everyone for my "long silence".I was about to give up this blog and thought of posting up my last message when someone i know reminded me how much i should continue to defend it not juz for anyone BUT for the glory of the Almighty. The chatroom in my blog has gone missing for no reason....just like the one i loved missed cherished and cared for....(please take out "d/_ed" for me)...BUT one thing remains.....GOD's love.grace.mercy!!! I shall continue to praise HIM coz HE is good........THank YOu to ALL my Bros + Sis in Christ & frenz (u know who u r)....for being there for me when i needed you ALL the most..sorry for all those late nite calls and "well-repeated" stories. I wasn't successful in banging my head on the wall tho some has offered to help me..hehehe!!! I truly love you, 2006 BUT i love 2007 even MORE now.....not that i want to BUT i have to, im sorry....I need to MOVE ON!!! **SiGH** (S=Safe,I=In,G=God's,H=Hands)

D art of Sharing the Story of an "ugly retarded girl"...

About six years ago, I went to the Poconos for a winter retreat with my church. It was a small, simple gathering of about forty kids.
We were not yet teens but slowly coming to realize ourselves as more than just children.
Since I was new to the church, a few friends of mine gave me a basic overview on the kids of our youth group. I can still remember a few random faces and the descriptions that went with them:
"Oh, that's so-and-so. He's such a pussy; he wet the bed at last year's retreat." or "That's the kid that kicked so-and-so's butt cuz he bothered his sister." Yet the one that haunts me with such clarity to this day is of a little girl, probably in the third grade at the time. With uneven locks of greasy hair adorning her mishappen face, she was constantly bombarded with ridicule from the heartless and unsympathetic. She was born with a physical ailment that affected her coordination and altered her facial features. It would be almost a daily retreat tradition for us to yell "retard" as she passed by on her way to the chapel. Yet, as the final day of our retreat neared, we all prepared our hearts for the most emotional night...the night in which voices would cry, hands would be raised, and eyes would flow freely without considering what the person next to you would think the following day. Yet, instead of pouring our hearts out in a scattered groups on the floor as expected, our pastor told us to stay in our seats for a moment. After about three minutes of composed silence, he said with calm, monotone sincerity,
"Who here loves Jesus?"
Everyone raised their hand; some even shouted small cries of their devotion. "Who here really loves Jesus?" he repeated. Again, everyone raised their arms, some fists clenched, accompanied by countless amens and hallelujahs. Then, as the silence reentered the room, he slowly produced a seven-inch long, steel stake from behind his back. With eyes of ice, he said, "Then those of you that really love Jesus please come to the front of the room...and suffer his fate."
A confused and scared silence congested the air of the room. No one dared make a sound, even a cough, for fear that everyone else may look at him. It seemed as though everything had been frozen in a heavy fog that engulfed the room. Watches seemed to have stopped. Eyes ceased to blink. The only thing that moved was the flowing perspiration as we all waited for something to happen. The pastor clenched the stake high above his head.
"Who here is willing to place their hand out for this stake to puncture it? Who? WHO?!" A small, scraping sound arose from the back row. It was the sound of a little girl, whimpering and stumbling, slowly rising from her chair. She broke the expectations of every person that had looked down on her, the retard, the ugly retard, just as Jesus had been resurrected in spite of the Romans' hatred of him. She bore the weight of everyone's stares and snickers as she limped up the aisle to the front of the room, just as Jesus had arduously carried his cross. Slowly lifting her ugly head to the pastor, she muttered,"I will." Tears coursed from the pastor's eyes as he asked her with fervent conviction, "Are you willing to pierce your hands for Jesus? Are you?!"
Her face was streaked with the rivers of tears, not emotional tears like that of all of ours had been, but spiritual tears flowing from her dull eyes. She slowly peeled her arms from her sides and lifted them to the man before her. "Yes."
Not much changed the next day. She didn't miraculously lose her physical defects. She was still made fun of...mostly by the kids that weren't at the last night's service. And I'm sure that if I asked any of the kids that were in that room the final night if they ever made fun of anyone ever again that they would all say yes. But the fact of the matter is, that occurence will stay with all of us, the teachers, the kids, everyone, for the rest of our lives.
And perhaps we should all stop being so judgmental, so ready to accuse or ridicule or hate, and stop modeling ourselves to be like the Romans. Because as much as it surprised us all, the only one of us that approached the pastor with a sincere courage was that "retard, that ugly retard" girl. And even though we already know to do this, do we really always follow it? Well, that just shows the understanding and love of Jesus, of how much he can allow himself to be spit on and laughed at and still forgive us...just like a humble, disabled little girl with a monumental spirit. Share this...hope this girl's courage and sincere faith has affected you and will remind you of Christ's love as much as it has me.

~Author unknown~

The Bridge (based on true story)

There was once a bridge which spanned a large river. During the day the bridge sat with its length running up and down the river paralleled with the banks, allowing ships to pass thru freely. But at certain times each day, a train would come and the bridge would be turned sideways across the river, allowing a train to cross it.

A switchman sat in a small shack on one side of the river where he operated the controls to turn the bridge and lock it into place when a train crossed.

One evening as the switchman was waiting for the light of the day to come, he looked off into the distance thru the dim twilight and caught sight of the trainlights. He stepped to the controls and waited until the train was within a prescribed distance within the bridge. He turned the bridge into position, but, to his horror, found the locking control did not work. If the bridge was not secure in position, it would wobble back and forth at the ends when the train came on to it, causing the train to jump the track and go crashing into the river. This would be a passenger train with many people aboard.

He left the bridge turned across the river, and hurried across bridge to the other side of the river where there was a lever switch that could hold to operate the lock manually. He would have to hold the switch back firmly as the train crossed.

He could hear the rumble of the train now. He took hold of the lever and kept applying the pressure to keep mechanism locked. Many lives depended on this man's strength.

Then, coming across the bridge from the direction of his control room, he heard a sound that made his blood run cold. "Daddy, where are you?"

His four-year-old son was crossing the bridge to look for him. His first impulse was to cry out to the child, "Run! Run!" But the train was close; the tiny legs would never make it across the bridge in time.

He almost left his lever to run and snatch up his son and carry him but he realized that he would not be able to get back to the lever in time. Either the people on the train or his little son must die.

He took a moment to make his decision. The train sped safely about, on its way, and no one aboard was even aware of the tiny broken body, thrown mercilessly into the river by the onrushing train. Nor were they aware of the pitiful figure of the sobbing man, still clinging tightly to the locking lever long after the train had passed. They did not see him walk home more slowly than he had ever walked: to tell his wife how the child had brutally died.

Now if you comprehend the emotions which went this man's heart, you can begin to understand the feelings of our Father in Heaven when He allowed His Son to bridge the gap between us and eternal life.

Can there be any wonder that He caused the earth to tremble and the skies to darken as His Son died? How does He feel when we speed along thru life without any thought to what was done for us thru Jesus Christ?

When was the last time you thanked Him for the sacrifice of His Son?

D art of Sharing Christmas Gift

A friend of mine named Paul received an automobile from his brother as a Christmas present. On Christmas Eve when Paul came out of his office, a street urchin was walking around the shiny new car, admiring it. "Is this your car, Mister?" he asked.
Paul nodded. "My brother gave it to me for Christmas." The boy was astounded. "You mean your brother gave it to you and it didn't cost you nothing? Boy, I wish..." He hesitated.
Of course Paul knew what he was going to wish for. He was going to wish he had a brother like that. But what the lad said jarred Paul all the way down to his heels.
"I wish," the boy went on, "that I could be a brother like that."
Paul looked at the boy in astonishment, then impulsively he added, "Would you like to take a ride in my automobile?"
"Oh yes, I'd love that."
After a short ride, the boy turned and with his eyes aglow, said, "Mister, would you mind driving in front on my house?"
Paul smiled a little. He thought he knew what the lad wanted. He wanted to show his neighbors that he could ride home in a big automobile. But Paul was wrong again. "Will you stop where those two steps are?" the boy asked.
He ran up the steps. Then in a little while Paul heard him coming back, but he was not coming fast. He was carrying his little crippled brother. He sat him down on the bottom step, then sort of squeezed up against him and pointed to the car.
"There she is, Buddy, just like I told you upstairs. His brother gave it to him for Christmas and it didn't cost him a cent. And some day I'm gonna give you one just like it... then you can see for yourself all the pretty things in the Christmas windows that I've been trying to tell you about."
Paul got out and lifted the lad to the front seat of his car. The shingled-eyed older brother climbed in beside him and the three of them began a memorable holiday ride.
That Christmas Eve, Paul learned what Jesus meant when he had said, "It's more blessed to give...."

~Author Unknown~

Merry Christmas!!!

D art of Sharing A Candy Maker's Witness

A candymaker wanted to make a candy that would be a witness, so he made the Christmas Candy Cane. He incorporated several symbols for the birth, ministry, and death of Jesus Christ.

He began with a stick of pure white hard candy. White to symbolize the Virgin birth and the sinless nature of Jesus, and hard to symbolize the Solid Rock, the foundation of the Church, and the firmness of the promises of God.

The candymaker made the candy in the form of a "J" to represent the precious name of Jesus, who came to earth as our Savior. It could also represent the staff of the "Good Shepherd" with which He reaches down into the ditches of the world to lift out the fallen lambs who, like all sheep, have gone astray.

Thinking that the candy was somewhat plain, the candymaker stained it with red stripes. He used three small stripes to show the stripes of the scourging Jesus received by which we are healed. The large red stripe was for the blood shed by Christ on the cross so that we could have the promise of eternal life.

Unfortunately, the candy became known as Candy Cane-a meaningless decoration seen at Christmas time. But the meaning is still there for those who "have eyes to see and ears to hear." I pray that this symbol will again be used to witness To The Wonder of Jesus and His Great Love that came down at Christmas and remains the ultimate and dominant force in the universe today.

D ARt of Sharing : Forgiveness

A letter written to a man on death row by the Father of the man whom the man on death row had killed:

You are probably surprised that I, of all people, am writing a letter to you, but I ask you to read it in its entirety and consider its request seriously. As the Father of the man whom you took part in murdering, I have something very important to say to you.
I forgive you. With all my heart, I forgive you. I realize it may be hard for you to believe, but I really do. At your trial, when you confessed to your part in the events that cost my Son his life and asked for my forgiveness, I immediately granted you that forgiving love from my heart. I can only hope you believe me and will accept my forgiveness.
But this is not all I have to say to you. I want to make you an offer -- I want you to become my adopted child. You see, my Son who died was my only child, and I now want to share my life with you and leave my riches to you. This may not make sense to you or anyone else, but I believe you are worth the offer. I have arranged matters so that if you will receive my offer of forgiveness, not only will you be pardoned for your crime, but you also will be set free from your imprisonment, and your sentence of death will be dismissed. At that point, you will become my adopted child and heir to all my riches.
I realize this is a risky offer for me to make to you -- you might be tempted to reject my offer completely -- but I make it to you without reservation.
Also, I realize it may seem foolish to make such an offer to one who cost my Son his life, but I now have a great love and an unchangeable forgiveness in my heart for you.
Finally, you may be concerned that once you accept my offer you may do something to cause you to be denied your rights as an heir to my wealth. Nothing could be further from the truth. If I can forgive you for your part in my Son's death, I can forgive you for anything. I know you never will be perfect, but you do not have to be perfect to receive my offer. Besides, I believe that once you have accepted my offer and begin to experience the riches that will come to you from me, that your primary (though not always) response will be gratitude and loyalty.
Some would call me foolish for my offer to you, but I wish for you to call me your Father.

Sincerely, The Father of Jesus