Just sharing.

Turnaround Action

We need to understand our turnaround God because He speaks from a turnaround perspective. He may ask for actions that make no apparent sense to where we are currently living but make total sense for where we will be going.

Have you ever felt God ask you to do something that seemed to make no sense? Maybe He asked you to sow financial seed when you were in a financial crisis. Perhaps He asked you to take on a new business venture when you were already stretched with your current business. Or as a parent God asked you to include more people into your already overstretched family.

At times, God’s counsel can seem insensitive or out of touch, so we misunderstand or even reject what we hear from God.

I remember the day my husband, Steve, and I went to what we thought was a regular doctor’s appointment. We had gone to receive news of our recent test results. We entered the room laughing and chatting with the doctor to find ourselves only moments later sat in complete silence at the news we had just received. My test had shown that I might not be able to conceive a child.

Reeling from the casually delivered news, Steve and I left the office with our world now rocked and our faith about to be tested. During the next few months, we experienced a variety of emotions trying to seek God in this situation.

Then one day amid our tears we sensed God asking us to do something that seemed ridiculous. We felt God instruct us to throw baby showers for other people in our church who were pregnant; some of the people we barely even knew. I didn’t feel like celebrating what I had been told I couldn't have, but I had to come to the realization that God was not being cruel to me.

He was asking if I believed that He could turn anything around. If I did, then did that include my barrenness?

Though I was unsure how God would bring about our miracle, I first had to start acting as if I believed God could provide a miracle. In my disappointment I had closed down every avenue for God’s provision. I had closed my heart to the many ways in which this barrenness in my life could be removed. Therefore, I needed to start acting in accordance with my future and not my present.

This experience brought a new realization of why God would say in Isaiah 54:1:

Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband.

In this verse, God required an action that would begin the turning. By singing and shouting for joy, the barren woman was lining up with the promise and moving away from the problem. While you are singing, you can’t be complaining, questioning, or moaning.

God wanted the barren woman to hear a different sound. God wants all His people to sing in the struggle because they know barrenness is not the end, but just the starting point of their turn.

Jesus loved people. Yet if you always want His love to be expressed within your own personal levels of your sensitivity, you may feel let down. Jesus was criticized in the way He performed miracles, the days on which He would carry them out, and to whom He would extend them.

The Bible is full of stories where God’s answers seemed insensitive, where a prophet’s behavior looked more crazy than sane, and where Jesus’ ministry seemed careless and wasteful. One time, a prophet asked an influential ruler to wash in a dirty river, an instruction that was both disrespectful and insensitive to the ruler’s position in the community (2 Kings 5).

The prophet Elisha instructed a woman with nothing to go and find more emptiness that she would be required to fill (2 Kings 4). God told a starving widow who was about to use her last handful of flour and oil to feed her son a last meal to take those ingredients and feed a hungry prophet instead (1 Kings 17).

Turnarounds by nature are radical; they bypass nice and sensible, they freak out the orderly, and they do not line up with agendas. But turnarounds reveal our miraculous Savior to our messed-up world.

Isaiah 54 continues to unfold God’s counsel as He instructs the desolate to enlarge, stretch, expand, and advance (v. 2). God does not want merely a slight improvement for His people but a complete turnaround. We have to be careful that we don’t downsize God’s ability and become satisfied too easily. I know how tempting it can be to take a small success as the ceiling for what God wants to do.

We are grateful for the two or three we have reached, but we can’t allow that to become the capacity level at which we settle when God has the nations in His heart. We say size doesn't matter, but actually it does because we should be seeing people added to His church daily. We have to be careful not to downsize the Great Commission to one that is more manageable.

On too many occasions, I have allowed a sensible theology that said, “When the money comes in, then we will go out; when the right people join our ministry, then we will advance to reach more people.” The enemy loves sensible planning, as it is no threat to his kingdom.

If you downsize yourself, the enemy will become involved in your ministry, sending you more problems to manage and more people to help you keep things tidy. Yet there is nothing about God that downsizes, and He certainly isn't tidy! His strategies often do not seem sensible or His counsel logical.

God asked an elderly couple, who were ready for retirement, to have a baby. He instructed a stuttering shepherd to speak to Pharaoh and to deliver an entire nation. He told a boy on a hillside to leave the sheep and kill a giant. He chose a teenage girl to carry the Savior of the world.

God doesn't downscale people; He super-sizes them. He removes their comfort zones and throws them into the unknown, where His capacity overshadows their ability and they participate in the turnaround ministry of the God they serve.

Jesus came to turn the world upside down in the three years of His public ministry. He called a group of young men, mostly made up of teenagers, to come help Him turn around an entire world. He asked them to leave the tranquil lake for the sea of hurting humanity.

Jesus’ ministry was not safe; it was revolutionary. He came with miracles, not slight improvements — and often it was people’s willingness to believe in His turnaround power that determined whether they went away healed and whole.

Jesus could have seemed insensitive when He said to cripples, “Get up and walk!” or to grieving relatives, “Open the grave!” His methods were questioned, but His miracles always brought answers. Turnarounds are not polite or politically correct; they are not people pleasing or protocol appeasing. Jesus wasn't trying to fit in; He came to turn things around.

Throughout His ministry — in persecution, torture, misunderstanding, and betrayal — Jesus carried on undaunted, seeing a joy set before Him that would only be attained with a complete turnaround commitment. God sent us a turnaround Jesus and then He gave us the turnaround facilitator, the Spirit of God.

A Hope


An abandoned, neglected child,
Left to wonder the streets wild.

A faithful yet beaten wife,
He continually threatens to take her life.

Why would God permit these things?
Why won't He give the hurt ones wings
To fly away from all the pain,
To fly away from the insane?

How can we understand
Why He won't stop them with His mighty hand?
Why can't the blind be made to see
And the innocent be set free?

So many try to hold onto this life.
They are willing to take it all in strife.
Yet God has so many higher plans.
Far beyond all of man's.

Men cannot see into eternity,
And they do not know who can set them free.
But God wants to give us a heavenly home.
One we can truly call our own.

He looks forward to the day
When He can wipe all their tears away.
He offers a hope and a peace
That can set their minds at ease.

All they must do to receive
Is simply to believe

A Final Good-bye


"I am going home to Denmark, Son, and I just wanted to tell you I love you."

In my dad's last telephone call to me, he repeated that line seven times in a half hour. I wasn't listening at the right level. I heard the words, but not the message, and certainly not their profound intent. I believed my dad would live to be over 100 years old, as my great uncle lived to be 107 years old. I had not felt his remorse over Mom's death, understood his intense loneliness as an "empty nester," or realized most of his pals had long since light-beamed off the planet. He relentlessly requested my brothers and I create grandchildren so that he could be a devoted grandfather. I was too busy "entrepreneuring" to really listen.

"Dad's dead," sighed my brother Brian on July 4, l982.

My little brother is a witty lawyer and has a humorous, quick mind. I thought he was setting me up for a joke, and I awaited the punchline - there wasn't one. "Dad died in the bed he was born in - in Rozkeldj," continued Brian. "The funeral directors are putting him in a coffin, and shipping Dad and his belongings to us tomorrow. We need to prepare for the funeral."

I was speechless. This isn't the way it's supposed to happen. If I knew these were to be Dad's final days, I would have asked to go with him to Denmark. I believe in the hospice movement, which says: "No one should die alone." A loved one should hold your hand and comfort you as you transition from one plane of reality to another. I would have offered consolation during his final hour, if I'd been really listening, thinking and in tune with the Infinite. Dad announced his departure as best he could, and I had missed it. I felt grief, pain and remorse, Why had I not been there for him? He'd always been there for me.

In the mornings when I was nine years old, he would come home from working 18 hours at his bakery and wake me up at 5:00 A.M. by scratching my back with his strong powerful hands and whispering, "Time to get up, Son." By the time I was dressed and ready to roll, he had my newspapers folded, banded and stuffed in my bicycle basket. Recalling his generosity of spirit brings tears to my eyes.

When I was racing bicycles, he drove me 50 miles each way to Kenosha, Wisconsin, every Tuesday night so I could race and he could watch me. He was there to hold me if I lost and shared the euphoria when I won.

Later, he accompanied me to all my local talks in Chicago when I spoke to Century 21, Mary Kay, Equitable and various churches. He always smiled, listened and proudly told whomever he was sitting with, "That's my boy!"

After the fact, my heart was in pain because Dad was there for me and I wasn't there for him. My humble advice is to always, always share your love with your loved ones, and ask to be invited to that sacred transitional period where physical life transforms into spiritual life. Experiencing the process of death with one you love will take you into a bigger, more expansive dimension of beingness.

The 1st Step Out Of A Mess

When everything is a mess and when you try to clean up,
where do you start?

In life, some messes are bigger than others.
Some situations are more traumatic and distressing.
A flat tire is different from your car being repossessed and you
lost your job and are facing eviction.

I believe the subscriber who wrote that question was facing a
situation far more challenging than a flat tire, but it was a
question that struck me.

What do you do when everything is in a mess?

Let me give a pointer on the first part that may help someone.

"When everything is a mess..."

First, as long as there is breath in your body, realize that
it's impossible for everything to be in a mess.

Something has to be right.

The first thing is to find the things that are right.

Car repossessed?
Be thankful for a great bus system.

You may not think that's much until you ride on some of the bus
systems of the world that I've seen.

Got a terrible bus system?
Be thankful for legs that allow you to stand on a crowded,
non air-conditioned bus with people hanging out of the doors and
windows plus a bumpy ride.

Imagine for a second that you have just been told that you have
AIDS or terminal cancer.

Now imagine the relief when the doctor tells you it was a
mistake and your health is fine.

Don't have AIDS or terminal cancer?
Then EVERYTHING isn't in a mess is it?

That's the first thing; when you really stop and take count,
EVERYTHING is NOT messed up, just some things.

Even if you did have a terminal disease, if you are headed to
heaven then EVERYTHING still isn't messed up.

That's the first big step;
realize the "other" things that aren't messed up.

When this issue was first published a subscriber wrote who had
AIDS and said their life wasn't messed up just because they had
AIDS. They were living with it and had great hope.

There are two other steps that I'll get to later.

Want to know the next two steps right now?

Patience my friends, patience.

All messes take a little time to clean, and patience is one of
the necessary cleaning agents.

A Key In Hand Is Worth A Thousand On My Desk


A key fault I have, and I can only talk about one fault at a time, is the tendency to get busy. I often find myself chasing my own tail. What I will do with it when I catch it is beyond my understanding. However, this notwithstanding, I fall into the trap time after time of getting too busy for my own good.

Submitted_story: A key fault I have, and I can only talk about one fault at a time, is the tendency to get busy. I often find myself chasing my own tail. What I will do with it when I catch it is beyond my understanding. However, this notwithstanding, I fall into the trap time after time of getting too busy for my own good.

The faster I try to go; the less I seem to accomplish.

This past week proved no exception; in fact, everything came to a head on Monday. I had my To-Do-List all prioritized and neatly written on several 3 by 5 cards stuffed in my shirt pocket. Earlier I went through them item by item to make sure I could maximize the day. After all, "The early bird catches the worm."

Being the turkey I am, I have no idea what I'm going to do with the worm when I catch it, particularly if it's early in the morning when all I want is a good cup of coffee. Yet, I can often be found imitating that "early bird" scurrying around with my list of important things to do.

Getting back to my Monday catastrophe, and I can't think of another word that adequately describes last Monday. Sure, I've had catastrophes before. But this one was the wicked stepmother of all catastrophes.

After organizing my 3 by 5 cards, I made some mental notes as to how long each job would take. Returning those cards to my shirt pocket, I smiled the smile of one who has conquered his day. I felt good about myself and was anxious to get started on my day.

My day started out rather well. In fact, I discovered by mid-morning I was ahead of schedule. I chuckled to myself and thought, "next time I'll have a longer To-Do-List."

Suddenly, everything came to a screech owl halt.

I needed to pick up something at my office, which would only take a moment. I pulled up to my office door, jumped out of the car and unlocked the office door.

The office door can only be locked from the outside, with a key. The inside has a handicap bar according to the building code. I thought I would save time by unlocking the door and then locking it while I went inside to retrieve the item I needed. This would mean when I came to leave I could walk out, shut the door behind me and it would lock automatically.

This would save me exactly .00003 seconds of time. As time is precious, I thought it worth the effort.

The plan was going fine. Walking past my desk, I laid my keys on top of my desk. About this time I remembered something I needed from the car and dashed out to retrieve it. Just as I got to my car, I heard the door slam shut and one thought meandered through my stunned mind; "the keys."

The keys were exactly where I had left them - on my desk in my office.

My first thought was to panic. So, for about seven minutes I luxuriated in sheer panic.

My second thought was, "how am I going to get inside the building?"

I must confess my second thought drowned out my first. Some may have the luxury of indulging in panic, but I was on a schedule. My To-Do-List was begging to be done that day.

I circled the building three times and then laid down in sheer bewilderment. Not one door was unlocked. Not one window was accessible from the outside. All the effort put into making our building burglarproof was my nightmare in shinning alarm.

I thought of breaking a window but what if someone saw me? Also, I'd have to pay for the damages.

In my mind, I went over everybody who had a key to our church. Everyone I could think of was out of town or working. Even my wife was in Daytona Beach.

Then I had a brilliant thought. I must confess I don't have many but when I do, it brightens up my day. "The builder of the church might have a key." For some odd reason I had my cell phone with me, so I called the builder.

Unfortunately for me, he did not have a spare key to our building. My heart sank into the sole of my right foot because I had no options left.

Then the builder said, "I'll send one of my carpenters over to take a door off and let you in." I did not know that could be done, but I was glad for any help I could get at this point.

Within a few moments, the carpenter showed up. As he got out of his truck, I could see a sly smile smeared all over his puss. I took it like a man; a man locked out of his own office.

He spent about an hour taking the door off its hinges. Just as he finished my cell phone rang. A lady from the church with a spare church key was five minutes away.

I never told the carpenter about the last minute key because he worked so hard taking the door off and then putting it back on again.

Only one key in life really matters and that is Jesus, who said, "I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father, but by me." (John 14:6 KJV.)

He is the only key that opens the door to heaven and I can never lose him.

A Letter To You From Satan


I saw you yesterday as you began your daily chores. You awoke without kneeling to pray. As a matter of fact, you didn't even bless your meals, or pray before going to bed last night. You are so unthankful. I like that about you.

I cannot tell you how glad I am that you have not changed your way of living. Fool! You are mine. Remember, you and I have been going steady for years, and I still don't love you yet. As a matter of fact, I hate you, because I hate God. I am only using you to get even with God. He kicked me out of heaven, and I'm going to use you as long as possible to pay him back.

You see, Fool, GOD LOVES YOU and HE has great plans in store for you. But you have yielded your life to me and I'm going to make your life a living hell. That way we'll be together twice. THIS WILL REALLY HURT GOD! Thanks to you. I'm really showing Him who's boss in your life.

With all of the good times we've had..... We have been watching dirty movies, cursing people out, partying, stealing, lying, hypocriting, fornicating, overeating, telling dirty jokes, gossiping, back stabbing people, disrespecting adults and those in leadership position, NO respect for the church, bad attitudes: SURELY you don't want to give all this up!

COME ON, Fool, let's burn together forever. I've got some plans for us. This is just a letter of appreciation from me to you. I'd like to say "THANKS" for letting me use you for most of your foolish life. You are so gullible. I laugh at you. When you are tempted to sin, you give in. HA HA HA You make me sick!

Sin is beginning to take its toll on your life. You look 20 years older. I need new blood. So go ahead and teach some children how to sin. All you have to do is smoke, drink alcoholic beverages, cheat, gamble, gossip, fornicate, and listen to and dance to the top 10 jams. Do all of this in the presence of children and they will do it too. Kids are like that.

Well, Fool, I have to let you go for now. I'll be back in a couple of seconds to tempt you again. IF YOU WERE SMART, you would run somewhere, CONFESS YOUR SINS, LIVE FOR GOD with what little bit of life that you have left. It's not my nature to warn anyone, but to be your age and still sinning, it's becoming a bit ridiculous. Don't get me wrong, I still hate you...... IT'S JUST THAT YOU'D MAKE A BETTER FOOL FOR CHRIST.

P.S. - And if you really love me, you won't share this letter with anyone.

A Little Witness


I taught swimming lessons to children for many years. Children love to learn when the lesson is fun. I in turn made every effort to make the learning as enjoyable as possible. I don't have to brag when I say that the children I was blessed with teaching became skilled exceedingly fast.

On the other hand, putting so much effort into making it fun for kids usually tired me out. The week that this story happened I had been very tired and run down. I had been praying to the Lord for a little energy and strength. I would like to tell you about one little girl that I will never forget.

Her name was Hannah. She was about four years old, and she had no fear. She would jump and dive. She would paddle like all heck and go under water. For those of you that don't know, four year olds generally can't do these things. I never cared what age they were. I expected them to do wonders. And most of the time they did. We just need to love them and push them. Like I said before, I was blessed to be a teacher and love what I did.

One day I was just sitting on the side of the pool watching them have free time for the last five minutes of class. Hannah paddled over on her noodle (what we called these foam things that looked like noodles). She then asked me, "What do you believe?"

Now I was surprised by this question and I literally didn't know what to say. I think I blurted out something like, "I believe many things."

Before I could say much else she continued, "God died for us," in a very matter a fact way. She then looked at me kind of funny, like I was so mixed up. Then she paddled off almost oblivious to what she had just said and proceeded to use her free time. Let me tell you that I have never been hit by the Lord with such power before or since. Energy and strength literally welled up in me and I was set for weeks with a full tank. That was my last summer teaching water skills.

As I look back at this little episode I think of what a pivotal role it has made in my path with God. I thank the Lord for little Hannah's heart of gold. May the Lord guide her as well as she has helped to guide me.

Thank you Lord for answering prayers right when we need them. For giving us strength to wait patiently for those times. Thank you for letting us strengthen each other as Hannah did to me. To the glory of your holy name. In Jesus we pray, Amen.

The world will gravitate towards your negative stuff rather than your positives.

Everyone knows that Peter denied Jesus 3 times because it is mentioned so much but few remember that he saved 3000 non believers with just one sermon.

A Savior's Plea

Upon this hillside my flesh cries out in pain. Yet, it is my heart that searches for mercy. I scan the crowd and see my accusers. I see those who knew me as their friends.

Yet, I choose to travel in time to a place where I sit here with you. I look upon your face which is so dear to me. I remember the day you were created. I remember how my heart leaped for joy when I was forming you in the womb. I remember how my hands delicately were placed around your heart. I remember the God-shaped hole I placed there. I smiled when I thought of all the accomplishments you would make.

But, all of those pale in comparison to the reality that is set before you. And what is that reality? Beloved, look upon my hands and feet. Look upon my thorn covered brow. Look upon the wound in my side and the marks upon my back. That is how much I love you.

This blood I shed was paid at my expense and if it had taken one drop at time, surely I would have paid such a high price for you. Do you realize how much I love you? Do you know that when you cry that I cry too?

Do you know that when you feel defeated, alone and rejected that I long to tear open the heavens and show you my face? Do you know that I want so badly to hold you when you cry? Do you know that when man speaks words that wound and tear at your very soul that I long to kiss your brow and tell you how much I love you?

Why do you look to man to give you what only I can? Why do you give man the first fruits of your time, affections and talents only to be left disappointed and rejected? While we sit here my child I ask you these questions. I do not ask to hurt you or make you feel condemned. I ask that you may seek the truth and find it. For when you seek truth, you find me.

For I AM the way, the truth and the life. Beloved, will you choose the path I have laid before you? Will you choose to never be lonely again? Will you choose me so that I may come in and heal you of all that man has done? Will the word "yes" fall from your lips? Oh, how I have longed for the day when you will say "yes".

Just one word would send all of heaven rejoicing and place hell in vast turmoil! Just that one word would fill my heart with adulation, beloved. There is no one so horrible that my blood cannot cleanse, neither is there anyone so good that doesn't need me.

Whisper my name beloved, whisper and I will come running. I will run to you. You do not even have to meet me halfway. I will meet you right where you are. Say my name- "Jesus." Say it now from your heart and I will show up. Seek me with the eyes of your heart and you will find me there. You will see that I have been with you all along.

I travel back in time to this hillside. It is here where I think of you. All that you need, desire and ever longed for is in this blood. Will you choose my way? Surely, I cannot hide my opinion, for how could a creator deny the affection of his creation?

But, the choice is yours, beloved. I cannot make you choose, for that would not be love. But, know this dear one, know that I will not turn you away! Come- I will be waiting.

Love,
Jesus

A Saviours Return


Silence in the air,
No one seems to care,
Angels sent to sound
fire raged to the ground
a third of the tree's were not found

first there was a flood
now the sea's are full of blood
They're sitting there starting to jitter
a third of the river became bitter

they look to the heaven's above
This time there wont be a white dove

the sky's have darkened
their father Satan is helpless
sent to his prison for life
as they were about to become torments prey
a third of mankind killed by my lovely guardians

three plagues it took to find they've done wrong
but some still had longing for sin
death was there only chance to win

all this happened while I sat with god
no time left to repent for your souls are gone
No more tears, grief, or sorrow
Now it's forever no use for tomorrow!

A Soldier's View of the Tomb


Cassius stood at rigid attention in front of the commanding officer of Jerusalem's military cohort. "Centurion," the officer barked, "explain yourself! One of your squads was assigned to guard a tomb, a dead man. What could be so hard about that? Now I'm hearing rumors that the body is missing? Tell me this is all a mistake!"

"Sir, may I be frank, one old soldier to another?" asked the Centurion. He and the Tribune went back a long way, though the Tribune was of the equestrian class, and he a mere commoner.

"Please, Cassius," he said somewhat more gently, and motioned for the Centurion to take a seat.

"I must beg your indulgence, sir," Cassius began. "The story actually begins weeks ago."

"Take your time," the Tribune said, relaxing somewhat.

"Ever since this Jesus began preaching around Jerusalem, we thought he might be some kind of revolutionary bent on stirring up the populace with his talk of the Kingdom of God. But I went and listened to him, sir. He was no threat. Thousands would sit in rapt attention as he would talk about his Father, and loving your neighbor, forgiveness from past sins, and beginning a new life. It was fascinating, sir. Made you feel like he cared about you personally, he did."

The Tribune was resting his chin on his hand. "Go on, soldier."

"The next I saw him, we had been ordered to stand guard outside the Governor's official residence. The crowd was getting ugly. Pontius Pilate was sitting up there on the judgment seat and Jesus stood before him. Someone had roughed him up a bit, sir.

"What did you expect, Centurion?"

"Finally," Cassius continued, "Pilate motioned for silence. 'I find no crime in this man,' he called out. Then he tried to set Jesus free. He asked them to choose between Barabbas--a known murderer and rebel--and Jesus."

"And now that criminal Barabbas is walking free again."

"Jews from the ruling Sanhedrin were shouting, 'Crucify him! Crucify him!' The rabble took up the cry. It was touch and go for a minute there, sir. Then Pilate called for a basin, and began to wash his prissy little hands ...."

"Centurion, I'll allow no disrespect," the Tribune said sharply.

"Yes sir, but you know Jesus was innocent, pure and simple. He had just offended some powerful priests. But when Pilate saw how the wind was blowing he went along. I thought Rome was about law and justice, not expediency."

"Ruling is sometimes dirty business, Centurion," interjected the Tribune.

"So is soldiering, sir. On your orders one of my squad was picked to scourge the man."

"Oh, they enjoyed it well enough," said the Tribune. "That tall soldier ... Publius, wasn't it? He flogged like a madman, as I recall, with the metal tips of the scourge biting into his back until the skin lay in tatters and blood ran free."

"Few times in my career have I been sickened by blood," commented Cassius, "but to see an innocent man treated with such cruelty...."

"I don't recall you stopping them from dressing him in a purple robe with a reed for a scepter and a crown of thorns. Oh, they were having fun, all right."

"I've crucified hundreds in my time," Cassius replied, "but this man was different. He didn't curse. He didn't whimper. He was half-dead already from the beating Publius gave him, and he fell on the way to Golgotha."

"Fell?"

"He was just too weak to carry the cross, so we conscripted a strong Cyrenean to carry it. Then we crucified Jesus."

"All men die the same."

"Not like he did," replied Cassius. "We spiked him to the cross-bar and hoisted it onto the upright, but I'll never forget his prayer: 'Father forgive them, for they don't know what they're doing.' Sir, I was responsible for killing him, and he forgave me."

"Haven't you been a soldier too long to be troubled by a guilty conscience, Cassius?"

"Then the thief crucified next to him asked to be remembered when Jesus came into his kingdom."

"His kingdom!" the Tribune sneered.

"But listen to his answer: 'Today you will be with me in paradise.' Amazing! About noon, Tribune, the sky grew dark. Everyone saw it, and felt the cold chill when he cried, 'My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?' He sounded like the loneliest man in the world, hanging in the darkness. He spoke scarcely a word until three in the afternoon when he shouted, almost triumphantly, 'It is finished!' And, if you listened closely, you could hear him whisper, 'Into your hands I commit my spirit.'

"At that very moment the ground began to tremble and roll," said Cassius. "Knocked me to the ground for a moment. And then the darkness began to lift. I tell you, Tribune, that was no mere man we crucified, he was the Son of God."

"A few freak coincidences and you're willing to declare him divine? He's just as dead as anyone."

"No, Tribune, he's not."

"He's not?"

"The chief priests and Pharisees insisted that Pilate guard the tomb so Jesus' disciples wouldn't steal the body."

"I know. I ordered it."

"We posted three men around the clock, relieved every eight hours as regulations call for. I sealed the tomb before they began. It was secure."

"So, what's this rumor that the body is gone?"

"It is gone, sir."

"I'll have your hide, Centurion!" the Tribune shouted, rising to his feet.

Cassius stood, too, but went on. "About seven o'clock Sunday morning, sir, the three soldiers on duty came running into the barracks like they'd seen a ghost. 'Centurion! Centurion!' they shouted. 'He's alive!' I got them calmed down, and made them tell me every detail.

"Their shift had begun about midnight," he said. They had been wide awake all night--telling stories about their girlfriends back home most of the time, I understand. Then, just before dawn, they said the garden tomb lit up as if it were high noon, and an angel with garments like lightning came and rolled the stone away from the tomb. They just sat there trembling. Then one of them got up-- Publius, I think they said--and looked in the tomb. The body was gone, and the graveclothes were lying on the limestone shelf wrapped round and round, but no body in them."

"You expect me to believe that?" the Tribune responded disdainfully.

"I questioned them closely. Each looked. Each saw the same thing. The body was gone."

"They must have fallen asleep, and told a story to cover themselves."

"They were battle-hardened veterans, sir, not some green troops. I know those men. Besides, sir, you'd think the sound of people trying to roll a huge stone would awaken sleeping soldiers. No, they were telling the truth, all right."

"What do you expect me to tell people, Centurion? That he rose from the dead?"

"I don't know what you're going to tell them, Tribune, but that's what happened. He's alive. I tell you, he's alive!"

"We'll tell the soldiers to say they fell asleep and his disciples stole the body," suggested the Tribune.

"What soldier is willing to say he fell asleep?" asked Cassius with a thin smile on his face.

"We'll pay them to say it," said the Tribune. "The chief priests owe us. They'll come up with a goodly sum to bury this story.... I'll take care of it from here on out, Centurion. You didn't see anything. You don't know anything. Got it?"

"But I do know, and I did see, Tribune. I can't change what happened. Jesus is out there alive. More than alive."

"Forget this ever happened, Cassius."

"Forget it if you can, sir. But with all respect, Jesus is alive, and that changes everything

A Special Invitation


Guest of Honor: Jesus Christ

Date: Every day. Traditionally December 25, but He's always around, so the date is flexible.

Time: Whenever you're ready, (please don't be too late, though; or you'll miss out on all the fun).

Place: In our heart ... He'll meet you there (you'll hear Him knock)

Attire: Come as you are ... grubbies are okay. He'll be washing our clothes anyway. He said something about new white robes and crowns for everyone who stays till the last.

Tickets: Admission is free. He's already paid for everyone. (He says we would not have been able to afford it ... it's cost Him everything He had!!!).

Refreshments: New wine, bread and a far-out drink He calls "living water ... followed by a supper that promises to be out of this world!!!

Gift Suggestions: Your heart. He's one of those people who already has everything else. He's very generous in return though ... just wait until you see what He has for you).

Entertainment: Joy, Peace, Truth, Light, Life, Love, Real Happiness, Communion with God, Forgiveness, Miracles, Healing, Power, Eternity in Paradise, and much more! (All rated "G" so bring your family and friends).

R.S.V.P. Very Important!

He must know ahead, so He can reserve a spot for you at the table. Also, he's keeping a list of His friends for future reference -- (He calls it the "Lamb's Book of Life")! Party Being Given By His Kids (That's Us)! Hope To See You There!

A Virtuous Woman

What is a virtuous woman? A description you seek.
She's a woman, designed by God, mild mannered and meek.

A woman whose children arise and call blessed,
who welcomes all strangers and treats them as guests.

A woman who plans for her household by night,
then trusts in the Lord with all of her might.

A woman who cares for her home and family,
who refrains from gossip and speaking idly.

Her husband, well known, within the city's gate,
publicly, praises God for his godly mate.

She's a blessing to all and in all her ways,
plants her trust in the Lord, Whose Voice she obeys.

She teaches her children God's laws and commands,
and daily entrusts them into His strong, loving hands.

"What is a 'virtuous woman', you ask"?
She's a God fearing woman who's
been blessed with a task.

[Proverbs 31:1-31]

Always There


Oh my Lord, my sovereign God
The One with whom the Angel's trod.
I thank you Lord for this one day
As on my knees I bent to pray.


Once again I was weak and down
You lifted me from off the ground.
It seems no matter what I do
You're always there to see me through.


You know each tear I've ever cried
Each single time my hope has died.
Though I slide back and often fall
You stand me upright, straight and tall.

Your shepherds staff you use with love
The rod for what I fall short of.
What would I do without your grace?
I'd never see your loving face.

You always know just what I need
And hear me everytime I plead.
Where would I be without your care?
Alone in darkness and despair

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. Pass this on...and I 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.

Angel In My Pocket


I am a tiny Angel
I'm smaller than your thumb;
I live in people's pockets
That's where I have my fun.

I don't suppose you've seen me,
I'm too tiny to detect;
Though I'm with you all the time,
I doubt we've ever met.

Before I was an Angel
I was a fairy in a flower;
God, Himself, hand-picked me,
And gave me Angel power.

Now God has many Angels
That He trains in Angel pools;
We become His eyes, and ears, and hands
We become His special tools.

And because God is so busy,
With way too much to do;
He said that my assignment
Is to keep close watch on you.

When He tucked me in your Pocket
He blessed you with Angel care;
Then told me to never leave you,
And I vowed always to be there.

Prayer is one of the best free
gifts we receive. Let's continue
praying for one another.

There are some decisions,
there are some ways of life,
that are decided for us by a higher authority.

How do we make those decisions?

We don't have to ....He does.

Answers

Written after hearing of the communications we send out into space looking for life.

Sitting here I contemplate the meanings of this earth.
Suspended here in space and time, what's the reason for our birth?

We reach out to the universe, as far as we can see.
Out beyond the stars and space, to distant galaxies.
Searching for some answers, or even just a clue.
What's the reason for this life we live? Why is there me and you?

The more we look, the more we see. It seems we're all alone.
No one's out there calling back from that distant telephone.
But there has to be a reason? Some purpose for this place?
Some reason for our being here. Alone in outer space.
I've heard it called "The Kingdom" or "the Kingdom Of The Air",
This place where we've been staying. This planet that we share.

Just look at all this splendor! All this living glory!
There absolutely has to be, more meaning to this story.
There has to be some reason, why we cannot hear a sound?
No signal from a far-off place. No meanings to be found?
Maybe someone's out there, but they simply cannot hear?
Or maybe they're not answering, because they live in fear.

Maybe they're out there looking back, and all that they can see,
Is death and hate and war and sin, throughout humanity.
Maybe we will never hear the answers, to the questions that we seek.

We'll sit and listen forever more, without a single peep.
Maybe it's all up to us? Could the answers be right here?
Could they be within ourselves? Maybe we can stop the tears?

Maybe looking "out there" is not where we should be?
The reasons or the meanings, may be looking back at me?
I think that I'm beginning now, to find that which I ask.
Everything's here in front of me. Not some far out-reaching task.
Since this earth is all we have, the answers must be here.
I think it's coming to me now; it's starting to come clear.

We can reach to distant stars, but nothing will be there.
We can contemplate forever, the burdens that we bare.
But finding all the answers, to this life we're livin,
Will never ever be found out there, because they're freely given.
I think I've found the answers now. I need no longer look.
They're setting here beside me in the pages of God's Book.

So if you ever sit and wonder. How and why and where?
Take the time to read God's word. All the answers are in there

Warning Light

Today I was driving in my truck up a busy street,
talking out loud to God, as I sometimes do.

I glanced down at my gas gauge for the 10th time only to see
that I was still on empty, and the orange glow of the warning
light was still very much glowing at me.

I had been telling God that I didn't know what to do and that I
was in need of His wisdom.

My car insurance was due yesterday,
my truck payment is 3 months overdue,
my cell phone was turned off,
(I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks so that is a big one
for me).

I am on medical disability for my anxiety, no job and very broke.

I explained to God that something really needed to change,
and that I am at my end and can't do this anymore.

Now, let me explain something to you.

I believe in God. I attend an awesome church but not as
regularly as I should. I have a Bible but don't pick it up to
read it as often as I should. I have so many opportunities to
attend small group studies with my church and even get togethers,
but I don't.

That's when it hit me.

I was running on empty.

My spiritual Warning Light has been glowing orange for months now,
and I have just kept on going; filling up just enough to get
me by, like I do with my gas tank, fill up with just $10.00
worth of gas to get me to the next week.

I didn't get the meaning of it until today. It hit me.


I pulled over and thanked God for showing me what changes I needed
to make, what I had to do to fill myself with spiritual fuel.
It was so simple that I had to laugh about it.

It's amazing how we talk to God, and yet sometimes never really
open ourselves to listen for his reply.

Are You Listening?


Back when the telegraph was the was the fastest method of long-distance communication, a young man applied for a job as a Morse Code operator. Answering an ad in the newspaper, he went to the office address that was listed. When he arrived, he entered a large, busy office filled with noise and clatter, including the sound of the telegraph in the background. A sign on the receptionist's counter instructed job applicants to fill out a form and wait until they were summoned to enter the inner office.

The young man filled out his form and sat down with the seven other applicants in the waiting area. After a few minutes, the young man stood up, crossed the room to the door of the inner office, and walked right in. Naturally the other applicants perked up, wondering what was going on. They muttered among themselves that they hadn't heard any summons yet. They assumed that the young man who went into the office made a mistake and would be disqualified.

Within a few minutes, however, the employer escorted the young man out of the office and said to the other applicants, "Gentlemen, thank you very much for coming, but the job has just been filled."

The other applicants began grumbling to each other, and one spoke up saying, "Wait a minute, I don't understand. He was the last to come in, and we never even got a chance to be interviewed. Yet he got the job. That's not fair!"

The employer said, "I'm sorry, but all the time you've been sitting here, the telegraph has been ticking out the following message in Morse Code: 'If you understand this message, then come right in. The job is yours.' None of you heard it or understood it. This young man did. The job is his."

We live in a world that is full of busyness and clatter, like that office. People are distracted and unable to hear the still, small voice of God as He speaks in creation, in the Scriptures, or in the life and work of Jesus Christ. Are you tuned in to God's voice? Do you hear Him when He speaks to you? Are you listening? "This is my Son, whom I love . . . Listen to Him!"