Where 'Ya Been?
The story is told of a man named John who had once been faithful to attend his church regularly, but had grown lackadaisical recently. The Pastor knew that he hadn't seen the gentleman in a while, so he went for a visit. John greeted the Pastor and welcomed him in, directing him to the chair beside the fireplace. He asked the Pastor what brought him to visit, but the Pastor didn't say a word... .he simply grabbed the fireplace tongs, picked up a hot coal from the fire, and set it away from the fire, out on the hearth. Both men then watched the coal. While the fire roared on, the coal which had been red hot began to lose it's heat. It gradually lost it's red color, and then cooled off so that it became cool to the touch. The Pastor picked up the coal, and handed it to John for a moment... neither man said a word. Then the Pastor reached out and took the coal back from John, and returned it to the roaring fire... and in just a few short moments, the coal once again glowed red hot, as the pile of flaming coals caused it to heat up again. The Pastor then got to his feet, put his hat on, and shook John's hand. At that point, John looked at the Pastor with tears in his eyes, and told him "Thank you for coming, Pastor, and I'll be back in church this coming Sunday!" Now some of you reading this aren't able to attend church services on a regular basis due to poor health. But for those who CAN attend services, but don't for one reason or another, consider this: Do you need to re-examine your reasons for not going? If it's hypocrites, yes the church is filled with them - do you also stay away from your workplace because of hypocrites there? Do you tell yourself that you can worship God just as well camping, or golfing, or on the lake, as you can in church? If so, you aren't fooling anyone but yourself - and definitely Not God! If you feel that God's Word isn't being preached in truth, then find a church where it IS - church isn't a cure-all for all of our problems, but it IS a place that you can be surrounded by those who will listen, and those who will pray for you... and you will hear Bible teaching there that you will not hear on the lake! So again I ask you - what's your excuse? I pray that as you examine this area of your life, that God would move in your heart and give you an intense desire to return to the sanctuary of the church - and that you can once again find the joy of worshipping God with other believers!

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)


Three Marbles
During the waning years of the depression in a small southeastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively. One particular day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me. "Hello Barry, how are you today?" "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank 'ya. Jus' admirin' them peas ...sure look good." "They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?" "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time." "Good. Anything I can help you with?" "No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas." "Would you like to take some home?" "No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with." "Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?" "All I got's my prize marble here." Is that right? Let me see it." "Here 'tis. She's a dandy." "I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" "Not 'zackley .... but, almost." "Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble." "Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller." Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said: "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps." I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys and their bartering. Several years went by each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon our arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men, who just left, were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size... they came to pay their debt. "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho." With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three, magnificently shiny, red marbles. Moral: We will not be remembered by our words -- but by our deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath, as we help others. ". . . faith without works is dead" (James 2:20 NKJ)

Author - W. E. Petersen   (Source: Source Unknown)


Three Kernels of Corn Parable
Three young men were once given three kernels of corn apiece by a wise old sage, who admonished them to go out into the world, and use the corn to bring themselves good fortune. The first young man put his three kernels of corn into a bowl of hot broth and ate them. The second thought, I can do better than that, and he planted his three kernels of corn. Within a few months, he had three stalks of corn. He took the ears of corn from the stalks, boiled them, and had enough corn for three meals. The third man said to himself, I can do better than that! He also planted his three kernels of corn, but when his three stalks of corn produced, he stripped one of the stalks and replanted all of the seeds in it, gave the second stalk of corn to a sweet maiden, and ate the third. His one full stalk's worth of replanted corn kernels gave him 200 stalks of corn! And the kernels of these he continued to replant, setting aside only a bare minimum to eat. He eventually planted a hundred acres of corn. With his fortune, he not only won the hand of the sweet maiden but purchased the land owned by the sweet maiden's father. And he never hungered again. The more you give, the more you get. However, that should NOT be the reason for your giving. Proverbs 11:24 NLT It is possible to give freely and become more wealthy, but those who are stingy will lose everything. Proverbs 11:25 NLT The generous prosper and are satisfied; those who refresh others will themselves be refreshed.

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: \'Guidewords\' )


This Is Good
An old story is told of a king in Africa who had a close friend with whom he grew up. The friend had a habit of looking at every situation that ever occurred in his life (positive or negative) and remarking, "This is good!" One day the king and his friend were out on a hunting expedition. The friend would load and prepare the guns for the king. The friend had apparently done something wrong in preparing one of the guns, for after taking the gun from his friend, the king fired it and his thumb was blown off. Examining the situation the friend remarked as usual, "This is good!" To which the king replied, "No, this is NOT good!" and proceeded to send his friend to jail. About a year later, the king was hunting in an area that he should have known to stay clear of. Cannibals captured him and took him to their village. They tied his hands, stacked some wood, set up a stake and bound him to the stake. As they came near to set fire to the wood, they noticed that the king was missing a thumb. Being superstitious, they never ate anyone that was less than whole. So untying the king, they sent him on his way. As he returned home, he was reminded of the event that had taken his thumb and felt remorse for his treatment of his friend. He went immediately to the jail to speak with his friend. "You were right," he said, "it was good that my thumb was blown off." And he proceeded to tell the friend all that had just happened. "And so I am very sorry for sending you to jail for so long. It was bad for me to do this." "No," his friend replied, "This is good!" "What do you mean,'This is good'? How could it be good that I sent my friend to jail for a year?" "If I had NOT been in jail, I would have been with you." "And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose." (Rom. 8:28) Situations may not always seem pleasant while we are in them, but the promise of God is clear. If we love Him and live our lives according to His precepts, even that which seems to be bleak and hopeless will be turned by God for His glory and our benefit. Hold on, God is faithful! May God bless you this week as you seek His will in every situation. Addendum -- Genius 50:20 (NIV) "You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)


The Year of My Christmas Miracle
I had smoked ever since I was twelve and by the time I was sixteen, I was given permission to smoke in the house. In those days we had no idea of the dangers of smoking. I am one of those people who does things all the way and so,when I smoked, I really smoked and that meant it was about two packs a day, non-stop, that I was smoking for most of my life. When I was in my late thirties, I got pregnant and had my two youngest children one right after the other. When I was in my forties I got Breast Cancer and had a mastectomy. The first thing I wanted after my surgery was a cigarette and during my entire stay in the hospital I spent much of my time going downstairs and outside for cigarettes. I went through eight and a half grueling months of chemotherapy and I still didn't quit smoking. When I was about forty five, I was learning just how hard it is trying to get by on disability payments with no child support and yet somehow I still found the money for my cigarettes. Christmas was upon me. I was flat broke and very depressed. Fortunately, one of the local churches sponsored families for Christmas and we were picked, so my children would have a Christmas after all. I was grateful. However, I was not in a very festive mood so we didn't take part in the usual Advent preparations that my children were used to that year. On Christmas morning my little boy asked me what I was giving the Baby Jesus for His birthday and I was crushed because I had nothing. I hadn't even baked the birthday cake for baby Jesus and we hadn't saved any good deeds to fill the manger with straw, like in other years. Yes, I was crushed but the look on his face told me he was even more crushed. The next thing out of my mouth was not at all what was on my mind. I said " I know... I am giving the Baby Jesus my smoking habit. The whole thing: the cigarettes, the lighters, the the cravings, the crabbiness, the ashtrays both dirty and clean, everything about smoking is what I am giving to the Baby Jesus". He was delighted and ran to tell his sister. They were filled with such joy and here I was stunned and very worried. I was obsessed with cigarettes and I had just told my son that I was giving up smoking as a gift to the baby Jesus. Was I nuts?? Could I do it?? No, I knew in my heart that I could not give up smoking and I also knew that this broken promise to my son, would stay with both of us for years to come. So... I prayed and said " Look Jesus I am sorry for jumping the gun here but I made this promise to my child and now I need You to help me keep it". Suddenly I was filled with a deep sense of peace but I still didn't realize that, because I had stepped out in faith (led there by grace alone) I was on my way to a miracle. I jumped up and we all had a ball going from room to room gathering everything to do with cigarettes. There were packs hidden everywhere and five in the freezer alone. We took the cigarettes, lighters and ashtrays and either gave or threw them away. Then I went from room to room taking down curtains and cleaning them. I washed walls, ceilings, clothing and everything I could find from Christmas morning until well into the New Year. Each time I would see someone with a cigarette I would privately Thank God for taking the habit from me and ask Him to do the same for them. I do that to this day. I have never once craved a cigarette in seven years. That was one of the biggest steps I had taken on my spiritual journey because I learned through it all that we can do nothing on our own. Only with God is everything possible. I learned that when we step out in faith and expect a miracle that is not contrary to the Will of God then we will be given one. That year changed my life completely. I saw firsthand what Jesus meant when He spoke about having faith the size of a mustard seed. That was the year of my Christmas Miracle.

Author - Dani D\'Angelo  (Source: Source Unknown)


The Winner
I was watching some little kids play soccer. These kids were only five or six years old, but they were playing a real game - - a serious game _ two teams, complete with coaches, uniforms, and parents. I didn't know any of them, so I was able to enjoy the game without the distraction of being anxious about winning or losing - I wished the parents and coaches could have done the same. The teams were pretty evenly matched. I will just call them Team One and Team Two. Nobody scored in the first period. The kids were hilarious. They were clumsy and terribly inefficient. They fell over their own feet, they stumbled over the ball, they kicked at the ball and missed it but they didn't seem to care. They were having fun. In the second quarter, the Team One coach pulled out what must have been his first team and put in the scrubs, except for his best player who now guarded the goal. The game took a dramatic turn. I guess winning is important even when you're five years old -- because the Team Two coach left his best players in, and the Team One scrubs were no match for them. Team Two swarmed around the little guy who was now the Team One goalie. He was an outstanding athlete, but he was no match for three or four who were also very good. Team Two began to score. The lone goalie gave it everything he had, recklessly throwing his body in front of incoming balls, trying valiantly to stop them. Team Two scored two goals in quick succession. It infuriated the young boy. He became a raging maniac -- shouting, running, diving. With all the stamina he could muster, he covered the boy who now had the ball, but that boy kicked it to another boy twenty feet away, and by the time he repositioned himself, it was too late -- they scored a third goal. I soon learned who the goalie's parents were. They were nice, decent-looking people. I could tell that his dad had just come from the office -- he still had his suit and tie on. They yelled encouragement to their son. I became totally absorbed, watching the boy on the field and his parents on the sidelines. After the third goal, the little kid changed. He could see it was no use; he couldn't stop them. He didn't quit, but he became quietly desperate futility was written all over him. His father changed too. He had been urging his son to try harder - yelling advice and encouragement. But then he changed. He became anxious. He tried to say that it was okay - to hang in there. He grieved for the pain his son was feeling. After the fourth goal, I knew what was going to happen. I've seen it before. The little boy needed help so badly, and there was no help to be had. He retrieved the ball from the net and handed to the referee - and then he cried. He just stood there while huge tears rolled down both cheeks. He went to his knees and put his fists to his eyes - and he cried the tears of the helpless and brokenhearted. When the boy went to his knees, I saw the father start onto the field. His wife clutched his arm and said, "Jim, don't. You'll embarrass him." But he tore loose from her and ran onto the field. He wasn't supposed to - the game was still in progress. Suit, tie, dress shoes, and all - he charged onto the field, and he picked up his son so everybody would know that this was his boy, and he hugged him and held him and cried with him. I've never been so proud of a man in my life. He carried him off the field, and when he got close to the sidelines I heard him say, "Scotty, I'm so proud of you. You were great out there. I want everybody to know that you are my son." "Daddy," the boy sobbed, "I couldn't stop them. I tried, Daddy, I tried and tried, and they scored on me." "Scotty, it doesn't matter how many times they scored on you. You're my son, and I'm proud of you. I want you to go back out there and finish the game. I know you want to quit, but you can't. And, son, you're going to get scored on again, but it doesn't matter. Go on, now." It made a difference - I could tell it did. When you're all alone, and you're getting scored on - and you can't stop them - it means a lot to know that it doesn't matter to those who love you. The little guy ran back on to the field - and they scored two more times - but it was okay. I get scored on every day. I try so hard. I recklessly throw my body in every direction. I fume and rage. I struggle with temptation and sin with every ounce of my being - and Satan laughs. And he scores again, and the tears come, and I go to my knees - sinful, convicted, helpless. And my Father - my Father rushes right out on the field - right in front of the whole crowd - the whole jeering, laughing world - and he picks me up, and he hugs me and he says, "I'm so proud of you. You were great out there. I want everybody to know that you are my son, and because I control the outcome of this game, I declare you -- The Winner."

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)


The Water of Life
It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn't see some rain soon... we would lose everything. It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn't walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously walking with a great effort... trying to be as still as possible. Minutes after he disappeared into the woods, he came running out again, toward the house. I went back to making sandwiches; thinking that whatever task he had been doing was completed. Moments later, however, he was once again walking in that slow purposeful stride toward the woods. This activity went on for over an hour: walking carefully to the woods, then running back to the house. Finally, my curiosity got the best of me. I crept out of the house and followed him on his journey (being very careful not to be seen... as he was obviously doing something important and didn't need his Mommy checking-up on him). He was cupping both hands in front of him as he walked; being very careful not to spill the water he held in them... maybe two or three tablespoons were held in his tiny hands. I sneaked closer as he went into the woods. Branches and thorns slapped his little face but he did not try to avoid them. He had a much greater purpose. As I leaned in to spy on him, I saw the most amazing site. Several large deer loomed in front of him. Billy walked right up to them. I almost screamed for him to get away. A huge buck with elaborate antlers was dangerously close. But the buck did not threaten him... he didn't even move as Billy knelt down. And I saw a tiny fawn laying on the ground, obviously suffering from dehydration and heat exhaustion, lift its head with great effort to lap up the water cupped in my beautiful boy's hand. When the water was gone, Billy jumped up to run back to the house and I hid behind a tree. I followed him back to the house; to a spigot that we had shut off the water to. Billy opened it all the way up and a small trickle of water began to creep out. He knelt there, letting each drip of water slowly fill up his makeshift "cup," as the sun beat down on his little back. It was just last week he was punished for playing with the garden hose, and received a stern lecture on the importance of not wasting water. So, I'm sure that is why he didn't ask me to help him. It took almost twenty minutes for the drops to fill his hands. When he stood up and began the trek back, I was there in front of him. His little eyes just filled with tears. "I'm not wasting," was all he said. As he began his walk, I joined him... with a small pot of water from the kitchen. I let him tend to the fawn. I stayed away... it was his job. I stood on the edge of the woods watching the most beautiful heart I have ever known working so hard to save a life. As the tears that rolled down my face began to hit the ground, they were suddenly joined by other drops... and more drops... and more. I looked up at the sky. It was as if God, Himself, was weeping with pride. Some will probably say that this was all just a huge coincidence. That miracles don't really happen. That it was bound to rain sometime. And I can't argue with that... I'm not even going to try. All I can say is that the rain that came that day saved our farm... just like the actions of one little boy saved a life. Epilog (SkyWriting.Net editor): I have received this same story from other sources, which do not include the "to honor the memory of my beautiful Billy." However, out of respect to the parent(s) that lost a child, I'm including it as an addendum; along with my sincere heart felt sympathy. Addendum -- "This story is to honor the memory of my beautiful Billy, who was taken from me much too soon.... but not before he showed me the true face of God; in a little sunburned body."

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)


The Rock / P.U.S.H.
A man was sleeping at night in his cabin when suddenly his room filled with light and the Savior appeared. The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was to push against the rock with all his might. This the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all his might. Each night the man returned to his cabin sore, and worn out, feeling that his whole day had been spent in vain. Seeing that the man was showing signs of discouragement, the devil decided to enter the picture by placing thoughts into the man's weary mind "You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it hasn't budged. Why kill yourself over this? You are never going to move it." This gave the man the impression that the task was impossible and that he was a failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the man. "Why kill myself over this?" he thought. "I'll just put in my time, giving just the minimum effort and that will be good enough." And that is what he planned to do until one day he decided to make it a matter of prayer and take his troubled thoughts to the Lord. "Lord" he said, "I have labored long and hard in your service, putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after all this time, I have not even budged that rock by half a millimeter. What is wrong? Why am I failing?" The Lord responded compassionately, "My friend, when I asked you to serve me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it. Your task was to push. And now you come to me, with your strength spent, thinking that you have failed. But, is that really so? Look at yourself. Your arms are strong and muscled, your back sinewy and brown, your hands are callused from constant pressure, and your legs have become massive and hard. Through opposition you have grown much and your abilities now surpass that which you used to have. Yet you haven't moved the rock. But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your faith and trust in My wisdom. This you have done. I, my friend, will now move the rock." At times, when we hear a word from God, we tend to use our own intellect to decipher what He wants, when actually what God wants is just simple obedience and faith in Him.... By all means, exercise the faith that moves mountains, but know that it is still God who moves the mountains. You just P.U.S.H.! When everything seems to go wrong,... P.U.S.H.! When the job gets you down,... P.U.S.H.! When people don't react the way you think they should,... P.U.S.H.! When your money is short and the bills are due,... P.U.S.H.! When you want to curse them out for whatever the reason,... P.U.S.H.! When people just don't understand you,... P.U.S.H.! P.U.S.H. = Pray Until Something Happens!

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)


The Quilt
As I faced my Maker at the last Judgement, I knelt before the Lord along with the other souls. Before each of us laid our lives, like the squares of a quilt, in many piles. An Angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life. But, as my Angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life. I saw hardships that I had endured, which were the largest holes of all. I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened. My Angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air. Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose, each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My Angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise. My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness and death, and false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I had spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully; each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me. And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it had been. I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light. An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with eyes wide. Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image. The face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, "Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you." May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through.

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)


The Perfect Mistake
My Mother's father worked as a carpenter. On this particular day, he was building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to orphanages in China. On his way home, he reached into his shirt pocket to find his glasses, but they were gone. When he mentally replayed his earlier actions, he realized what had happened; the glasses had slipped out of his pocket unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had nailed shut. His brand new glasses were heading for China! The Great Depression was at its height and Grandpa had six children. He had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning. He was really upset by the thought of having to buy another pair. "It's not fair," he told God as he drove home in frustration. "I've been very faithful in giving of my time and money to your work, and now this." Months later, the director of the orphanage was on furlough in the United States. He wanted to visit all the churches that supported him in China, so he came to speak one Sunday at my grandfather's small church in Chicago. The missionary began by thanking the people for their faithfulness in supporting the orphanage. "But most of all," he said, "I must thank you for the glasses you sent last year. You see, the Communists had just swept through the orphanage, destroying everything, including my glasses. I was desperate. Even if I had the money, there was simply no way of replacing those glasses. Along with not being able to see well, I experienced headaches every day, so my coworkers and I were much in prayer about this. Then your crates arrived. When my staff removed the covers, they found a pair of glasses wedged between two blankets. The missionary paused long enough to let his words sink in. Then, still gripped with the wonder of it all, he continued: "Folks, when I tried on the glasses, it was as though they had been custom made just for me! I want to thank you for being a part of that." The people listened, happy for the miraculous glasses. But the missionary surely must have confused their church with another, they thought. There were no glasses on their list of items to be sent overseas. But sitting quietly in the back, with tears streaming down his face, an ordinary carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used him in an extraordinary way. There are times we want to blame God instead of thanking him! Perhaps it is something we ought to try more often, "Thank you, God, for not allowing my car to start this morning." He may have been saving your life from a car accident. "Lord Jesus, thank you for letting me lose my glasses; I'm sure they'll be put to good use or there is a lesson to be learned." I have to remember this in these times of trial with my own family. May GOD bless your week. Look for the perfect mistakes. God shall supply all your needs according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. - Phil 4:19

Author - Author Unknown  (Source: Source Unknown)





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