Got a link to this via e-mail today – It seems it was originally put together by someone at Divine Peace Evangelical Lutheran Church in Garland, Texas. Anyway, I found it very intestesting:
Gods Yellow Pages – http://verrips.org/yellowpages
Enjoy!
(I received this today via e-mail and enjoyed the “moral” of it very much)
A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor. The conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.
Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups — porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain-looking, some expensive and some exquisite – telling them to help themselves to the coffee.
After all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said: “If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken, eaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is but normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, THAT is the source of your problems and stress.”
“Be assured that the cup itself adds no quality to the coffee. In most cases, it’s just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and then began eyeing each other’s cups.”
“Now consider this: Life is the coffee . . . and the jobs, houses, cars, things, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain life, and the type of cup we have does not define nor change the quality of life we live. Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee God has provided us. God brews the coffee, not the cups.
Enjoy your coffee!
During the course of the week I was forwarded a link to a Christian Contemporary Music Video called Indescribable – Basically just showing God’s wonderful creation, and how indescribable it all is, and ultimately, how indescribable He really is …
Was just SO wonderful to hear John Folmar’s sermon (from John 2:12-25) at church this morning echo the same message, yet so totally different, yet so very much the same! In particular how John Folmar unpacked the Zeal described in John 2:17 was very enlightning; I really am enjoying the series on the Gospel of John!
Angela has been doing the second of Denise Glenn’s “Motherwise” bible studies (i.e. Freedom for Mothers) these past 8 weeks and a “couples” dinner was held to mark the end of it last night at Mark and Margret’s Villa in Jumeirah.
Although the food (all home cooking) was great and the fellowship with what turned out to be 15 couples (i.e. 30 people) was certainly enjoyed, the highlight of the evening was a talk by John and Keri Folmer about “Marital Bliss”.
What was interesting about the Folmers talk was the simple revelation John shared that if you’re hoping that your marriage will be full of joy and bliss, you’re wrong – According to the bible a marriage is not designed to make us happy. It is in fact there to honour God and bring Him glory. The “spin-off” though, as both John and Keri explained, was the joy and love a couple finds as they honour and worship our Lord and saviour, together as husband and wife … in marriage.
Yours in Him
Roy
We’ve been having some challenging preaching and studies at UCCD and Cell Life Group since our new administrative/teaching Pastor John Folmar started a series on Psalms two weeks ago.
On Friday he did a great job in brining Gods message in Psalm 139 to us, and last night Pastor Daniel Splett continued the challenge in being “Running to, or from God” at Cell Life Group
Although totally unrelated, in my personal devotions this Psalm has brought me renewed peace regarding Rachel, who at this time last year was admitted to Dubai Hospital for the last time …
Psalm 139
O LORD, You have searched Rachel and You know her.
You hemmed Rachel in – behind and before; you laid your hand upon her. Such knowledge is too wonderful for us, too lofty for Angela and I to attain.
For you created Rachel’s inmost being; You knit her together in Angela’s womb. We praise You because Rachel was fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, we know that full well. Rachel’s frame was not hidden from You when she was made in the secret place. When Rachel was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw her unformed body. All 221 days ordained for Rachel were written in Your book before one of them came to be.
You searched Rachel, O God, and know her heart … lead Rachel in the way everlasting.
Yours in Him
Roy
There was once a competition offering a prize to the artist who could paint the best picture of peace. Many artists tried. The judge looked at all the pictures, but there were only two that he really liked, and he had to choose between them.
One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a perfect mirror for the peaceful towering mountains all around it. Overhead was a blue sky with fluffy white clouds. All who saw this picture thought that it was a perfect picture of peace.
The second picture had mountains, too. But these were rugged and bare. Above was an angry sky from which rain fell, and in which lightening played. Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming waterfall. This did not look peaceful at all.
But when the judge looked, he saw behind the waterfall a tiny bush growing in a crack in the rock. In the bush a mother bird had built her nest…. a perfect picture of peace.
The winner was the artist who painted the second picture.
“Because,” explained the judge, “peace does not mean to be in a place where there is no noise, trouble or hard work. Peace means to be in the midst of all those things and still be calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of peace.”
~Author Unknown~
For whatever reason God chose to make man as he is—limited and suffering and subject to sorrows and death—He had the honesty and courage to take His own medicine. Whatever games he is playing with his creation, he has kept his own rules and played fair.
He can exact nothing from man that he has not exacted from himself. He has himself gone through the whole of human experience, from the trivial irritations of family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair, and death. When he was a man, he played the man. He was born in poverty and died in disgrace and thought it well worthwhile.
[Dorothy Sayers; Christian letters to a post Christian world pg 14]
The story is told of a distant relative approaching Baron Rothschild to assist that relative’s son financially at university. The great man listened to the plea and discovered that the student is reading for a degree in economics at a prestigious university. In due course the student received a book pertinent to the subject. Some weeks later the Baron in turn received a letter from his distant nephew thanking him for the book but stating his desperate need for financial assistance. In reply the Baron wrote: “If you had cared to open the book I sent you would have discovered the amount requested available.”
So many have the BOOK, the Bible, with the answer in it. Many feel compassion and sponsor Bibles for those who do not have any, but they themselves seldom if ever open their own Bibles. What treasures await those who will regularly spend time in that Book.
We have taller buildings, but shorter tempers;
wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints;
we spend more, but have little;
we buy more and enjoy it less.
We have bigger houses and smaller families;
more conveniences, but less time;
we have more degrees, but less common sense;
more knowledge, but less judgement;
more experts, but more problems;
more medicine, but less wellness.
We spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
drive too fast, get too angry too quickly,
stay up too late, get up too tired, read too seldom,
watch TV too much, and don’t pray often enough.
We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values.
We talk too much, love too seldom and lie too often.
We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life;
we’ve added years to life, not life to years.
We’ve been all the way to the moon and back,
but have trouble crossing the street to meet the new neighbor.
We’ve conquered outer space, but not inner space;
we’ve done larger things, but not better things;
we’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul;
we’ve split the atom, but not our prejudice;
we write more, but learn less;
plan more, but accomplish less.
We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait;
we have higher incomes; but lower morals;
more food but less appeasement;
more acquaintances, but fewer friends;
more effort but less success.
We build better computers to hold more information,
produce more copies than ever, yet have less communication;
we’ve become long on quantity, but short on quality.
These are the times of fast foods and upset stomachs;
more kinds of food, but less nutrition.
These are the times of world peace, but domestic warfare;
more leisure and less fun; .
These are days of two incomes, but more divorce;
of fancier houses, but broken homes;
tall men and short character;
steep profits, and shallow relationships.
These are days of quick trips, throwaway morality,
one-night stands, and pills that do everything from
cheer, to quiet, to kill.
It is a time when there is much in the show window,
and nothing in the stockroom.
Think about it.
A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.
Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall’s Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door.
She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgust ing sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar 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 from Chicago whom I haven’t seen in ages,” he said without waiting for a reply to his question.
“Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,” Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone. “He’s really, really sick… and I want to buy a miracle.”
“I beg your pardon?” said the pharmacist. “His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and 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’m sorry but I can’t help you,” the pharmacist said, softening a little.
“Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn’t enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.” The pharmacist’s brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, “What kind of a miracle does your brother need?”
“I don’t know,” Tess replied with her eyes welling up. “I just know he’s really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can’t pay for it, so I want to use my money.”
“How much do you have?” asked the man from Chicago. “One dollar and eleven cents,” Tess answered barely audibly. “And it’s all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.”
“Well, what a coincidence,” smiled the man. “A dollar and eleven cents—the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.” 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. Let’s see if I have the kind of miracle you need.”
That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn’t long until Andrew was home again and doing well.
Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place. “That surgery,” her Mom whispered. “was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?” Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost… one dollar and eleven cents ….. plus the faith of a little child.
A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law…… (A TRUE STORY)
I was testing the children in my Sunday school class to see if they understood the concept of getting to heaven.
I asked them, “If I sold my house and my car, had a big garage sale and gave all my money to the church, would that get me into Heaven?”
“NO!” the children answered.
“If I cleaned the church every day, mowed the yard, and kept everything neat and tidy, would that get me into Heaven?”
Again, the answer was, “NO!”
By now I was starting to smile. Hey, this was fun!
“Well, then, if I was kind to animals and gave candy to all the children, and loved my husband, would that get me into Heaven?” I asked them again.
Again, they all answered, “NO!”
I was just bursting with pride for them.
Well, I continued, “then how can I get into Heaven?”
A five-year-old boy shouted out,
“YOU GOTTA BE DEAD.”
I refuse to be discouraged, to be sad, or to cry:
I refuse to be downhearted, and here’s the reason why:
I have a God who’s mighty, Who’s sovereign and supreme;
I have a God who loves me, and I am on His team.
He is all-wise and powerful. Jesus is His name;
Though everything is changeable, My God remains the same.
My God knows all that’s happening; Beginning to the end;
His presence is my comfort; He is my dearest Friend.
When sickness comes to weaken me, To bring my head down low,
I call upon my mighty God; Into His arms I go.
When circumstances threaten to rob me of my peace;
He draws me close unto His breast, Where all my strivings cease.
When my heart melts within me, and weakness takes control;
He gathers me into His arms, He soothes my heart and soul.
The great “I AM” is with me. My life is in His hand.
The “Son of the Lord” is my hope. It’s in His strength I stand.
I refuse to be defeated. My eyes are on my God;
He has promised to be with me, as through this life I trod.
I’m looking past all my circumstances, To Heaven’s throne above;
My prayers have reached the heart of God. I’m resting in His love.
I give God thanks in everything. My eyes are on His face;
The battle’s His, the victory’s mine; He’ll help me win the race.
Tomorrow morning,” the surgeon began, “I’ll open up your heart…”
“You’ll find Jesus there,” the boy interrupted…
“The surgeon looked up, annoyed… “I’ll cut your heart open,” he continued, “to see how much damage has been done…”
“But when you open up my heart, you’ll find Jesus in there,” said the boy.
The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly.
“When I see how much damage has been done, I’ll sew your heart and chest back up, and I’ll plan what to do next.”
“But you’ll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You’ll find Him in my heart.”
The surgeon had had enough. “I’ll tell you what I’ll find in your heart. I’ll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I’ll find out if I can make you well.”
“You’ll find Jesus there too. He lives there.”
The surgeon left. He sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery, “…damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure.
Therapy: painkillers and bed rest.
Prognosis:…… here he paused…… “death within one year.”
He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. “Why?” he asked aloud. “Why did You do this? You’ve put him here; You’ve put him in this pain; and You’ve cursed him to an early death. Why?”
The Lord answered and said, “The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine. His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow.”
The surgeon’s tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. “You created that boy, and You created that heart. He’ll be dead in months. Why?”
The Lord answered, “The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for he has done his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb.”
The surgeon wept. The surgeon sat beside the boy’s bed; the boy’s parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, “Did you cut open my heart?”
“Yes,” said the surgeon.
“What did you find?” asked the boy.
“I found Jesus there,” said the surgeon.
At an airport I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her plane’s departure and standing near the door, he said to his daughter, “I love you. I wish you enough.”
She said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.” They kissed good-bye and she left.
He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?
“Yes, I have,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all, my Dad had done for me.
Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face-to-face how much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing.
“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?” I asked.
“I am old and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead and the reality is, her next trip back will be for my funeral,” he said.
“When you were saying good-bye I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.
“May I ask what that means?”
He began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.”
He paused for a moment- and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.
“When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with enough good things to sustain them,” he continued, and then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.
“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive.
I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough ‘Hello’s’ to get you through the final ‘Good-bye.’”
He then began to sob and walked away.
Great Moments by God’s Grace
by C. Sumner Wemp
God amazes me! It is amazing grace that saves us and amazing grace that He uses us. We could really change the world if every Christian would just “go fishing” and let God use them.
[...]
A challenging devotion I received this morning from the American Tract Society
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It’s a Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and says, “Turn on a radio, turn on a radio.”
And while the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made: “Two women are lying in a Cape Town hospital dying from the mystery flu.”
[...]
Got this via e-mail from Grace Bible Fellowship
It’s an article/sermon by H. Fred Noter charging us to Think Right and NOT adhere to the current trend of thinking Politically Correct
Well work the Read …
[...]
They lie in the bed with the lights out. They should have been asleep hours ago, but they are awake, each silently seething with anger inside. They may be inches apart spatially, but they are miles apart spiritually. They need to talk, expose their hearts. But they cannot.
[...]
God must love a good wedding. In fact, one of the first things we know about the public life of Jesus is he attended a wedding where he turned water into wine, his first miracle. He celebrated with the family, and those in attendance. Nothing implies that he skipped out of the party early either.
[...]
