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WEEKLY FOOD FOR
THOUGHT Need an inspirational thought...a chuckle or two... something to inspire you and get you through the day? Well, you've come to the right place. Check here at least weekly for new bits of inspiration. Sometimes more than once per week...sometimes not...but check often so you don't miss anything.
* * * * * * * * * * * (Friday, September 30) KEEP LOVING Keep
loving because of. from When I'm On My Knees by Anita Corrine Donihue * * * * * * * * * * * (Sunday, September 25) Jerusalem,
I can never forget you! I have written your name on the palms of my
hands. If you're in Christ, your name is written on God's hands. It's not written in ballpoint; it's not a temporary reminder, the way you might write "history test Monday" on the palm of your hand so you don't forget to study. No, the word translated "written" in the verse quoted above is really more like "engraved" or "tattooed." The names of God's people can't be scrubbed away. For all eternity, they're right there in God's sight, where he can't miss them. Here's something that will boggle your mind: if you are in Christ, your future, your eternity is just as secure as that of the saints who are already in heaven. They're happier than you are; they don't have to think about final exams or dating or their wardrobe. They don't have to deal with worry or doubts or temptations. But they aren't more secure than you are. You are in the grip of grace. There's no prying the fingers of the loving Christ away from you. "I am convinced," wrote the apostle Paul, "that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 8:38-39 NIV). Cling to Christ. Hold on to your Savior with all the strength you can muster. But when your grasp starts to slip (and it will), know that your security comes from God's grip on you, not your grip on him. That's what assurance means; it's a confidence that the God who has called you to himself is faithful to keep you. In spite of your failures. In spite of your doubts. One of the great benefits of this assurance is the joy it brings; it's a good feeling. But sometimes you just don't feel all that good. You don't feel secure. You don't feel like the apple of God's eye. What then? That's when you take your eyes off yourself--your mistakes, your doubt, your self-pity--and look to the God who loved you so much he gave up his Son for you. from words
to live by for teens * * * * * * * * * * * (Friday, September 16) TIME It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him. Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?" "Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said. "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over on 'his side of the fence,' as he put it," Mom told him. "I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said. "You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said. "He's the one who taught me carpentry," Jack said. "I wouldn't be in the business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important.... Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," he added. As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away. The night before he had to return home, Jack and his mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture ... Jack stopped suddenly. "What's wrong, Jack?" his mom asked. "The box is gone," he said. "What box?" "There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack answered. It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom." It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read. Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small package was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser," it read. Jack took the package out to his car and ripped it open. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside. "Upon my death, please forward this package and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filled his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the gold box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, thanks for our time! Harold Belser." "The thing he valued most ... was ... my time," Jack thought. Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked. "I need some time to spend with my family," Jack said. "Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!" (received from Mikey's Funnies...www.mikeysFunnies.com) * * * * * * * * * * * (Tuesday, September 13)This is a bit long but well worth the time it takes to read it.)
THE HAIRBRUSH Knoxville airport all waiting to board planes: I had the Bible on my lap and was very intent upon what I was doing. I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord. I say that because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise. Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons, not the least of which is your ego... I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight. Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier. His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt. His hands looked like tangled masses of veins and bones. The strangest part of him was his hair and nails. Stringy grey hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back. His fingernails were long. Clean, but strangely out of place on an old man. I looked down at my Bible as fast as I could, discomfort burning my face. As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting. Then, I remembered reading somewhere that he was dead. So this man in the airport...an impersonator maybe? Was a camera on us somewhere?.... There I sat trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me. All the while my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him. Let's admit it. Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and suddenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man. I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall. I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen. And it may be embarrassing. I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind. "Oh no, God please no." I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, " Don't make me witness to this man. Not right here and now. Please. I'll do anything. Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience. Please, Lord!" There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man. Not now. I'll do it on the plane. Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to brush his hair." The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top. Do I witness to the man or brush his hair? No brainer! I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man. I'm on this Lord. I'm you're girl! You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life. What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed? I am on him. I am going to witness to this man." Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind. "That is not what I said, Beth. I don't want you to witness to him. I want you to go brush his hair." I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush. It's in my suitcase on the plane, How am I suppose to brush his hair without a hairbrush?" God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word: "I will thoroughly finish you unto all good works." (2 Tim 3:7) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself. Even as I retell this story my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies. I knelt down in front of the man, and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?" "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that. At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?" At which point every eye in the place darted right at me. I was the only thing in the room looking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks. Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." Are you kidding? OF course I didn't want to. But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then. He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased. But I have one little problem. I don't have a hairbrush." "I have one in my bag," he responded. I went around to the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on hardly believing what I was doing. I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair. It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted. I don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls. Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.
A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that
old man's hair.... Everybody else in the room disappeared. There was
no one alive for those moments except that old man and me. I
brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.
I know this sounds so strange but I've never felt that kind of
love for another soul in my entire life. I believe with all my heart,
I--for His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's. I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him. I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?" He said, "Yes, I do." Well, that figures. He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride. She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior." He said "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months. I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me. I was sitting here thinking to myself. What a mess I must be for my bride." Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance. This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known. It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it. Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane. I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft. I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing. Why did you do that? What made you do that?" I said "Do you know Jesus? He can be the bossiest thing!" And we got to share. I learned something about God that day. He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, you're serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on but you feel too responsible to budge. He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected. He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation. Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed. He sees you as an individual. Tell Him your need! I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way...all because I didn't want people to think I was strange. God didn't send me to that old man. He sent that old man to me.
John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his dwelling
among us. We * * * * * * * * * * * (Monday, September 12) (time for some chuckles...and probably some moans and groans!) A duck walks into a drugstore and asks for a tube of ChapStick. The cashier says to the duck, "That'll be $1.49." The duck replies, "Put it on my bill!" ***** After a long career of being blasted into a net, the human cannonball was tired. He told the circus owner he was going to retire. "But you can't!" protested the boss. "Where am I going to find another man of your caliber?" ***** A bear walks into a bar and says, "I'd like a beer ............ and some of those peanuts. The bartender says, "sure, but why the big paws?" ***** My wife was in labor with our first child. Things were going pretty well when suddenly she began to shout, "Shouldn't, couldn't, wouldn't, didn't, can't!" "Doctor, what's wrong with my wife?" "Nothing. She's just having contractions." ***** A panda walks into a bar, sits down and orders a sandwich. He eats, pulls out a gun and shoots the waiter dead. As the panda stands up to go, the bartender shouts, "Hey! Where are you going? You just shot my waiter and you didn't pay for the food." The panda yells back, "Hey, man, I'm a panda. Look it up!" The bartender opens his dictionary to panda: "A tree-climbing mammal of Asian origin, characterized by distinct black and white coloring. Eats shoots and leaves." from "Reader's Digest", September, 2005 * * * * * * * * * * * (Friday, September 9) Many years ago in a small village, a farmer had the misfortune of owing a large sum of money to a village moneylender. The moneylender, who was an awful, mean man, fancied the farmer's beautiful daughter. So he proposed a bargain. He said he would
forgo the farmer's debt if he could marry his daughter. Both the
farmer and his daughter were horrified by the proposal. So the cunning
money-lender suggested that they let providence decide the matter. He
told them that he would put a black pebble and a white pebble into an
empty money bag.
received from Mikey's Funnies (www.mikeysFunnies.com) * * * * * * * * * * * (Wednesday, September 7) ~some random thoughts~ Fear
knocked at the door. Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it. The
church is not a gallery for the exhibition of eminent Christians but a
school for the education of imperfect ones, a nursery for the care of weak
ones, a hospital for the healing of those who need assiduous care. He has
the film of my whole life in view, and not just the snapshot of my present
situation. It is
impossible for that man to despair who remembers that his Helper is
omnipotent. Thankfulness is the soil in which joy thrives. Don't
find fault. Find a remedy. Don't be discouraged if your children reject your advice. Years later they will offer it to their own offspring. If all our misfortunes were laid in one common heap, most people would be contented to take their own and depart. People
are like stained glass windows; they sparkle and shine when the sun is
out, but when the darkness sets in their true beauty is revealed only if
there is a light within. * * * * * * * * * * * (Tuesday, September 6) For some of you, the journey has been long. Very long and stormy. Some of you have shouldered burdens that few of us could ever carry. You have bid farewell to life-long partners. You have been robbed of life-long dreams. You have been given bodies that can't sustain your spirit. You have spouses who can't tolerate your faith. You have bills that outnumber the paychecks and challenges that outweigh the strength. And you are tired. It's hard for you to see the City in the midst of the storms. The desire to pull over to the side of the road and get out entices you. You want to go on, but some days the road seems so long. Let me encourage you. God never said that the journey would be easy, but he did say that the arrival would be worthwhile. Remember this: God may not do what you want, but he will do what is right . . . and best. He's the Father of forward motion. Trust him. He will get you home. And the trials of the trip will be lost in the joys of the feast. from In The Eye Of The Storm by Max Lucado * * * * * * * * * * * (Saturday, September 3) the
next time from Mocha with Max by Max Lucado * * * * * * * * * * * (Thursday, September 1) The mark of a saint is
not perfection, but consecration. A saint During the 115-mile
trip from Kentucky into Ohio, there had been some Wonder if the claim
some of us make to be disciples of Jesus ever * * * * * * * * * * *
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