On judgment day you will be in the dock plotting your defence against all the cases you reckon might be brought up against you. The one accusation you dread most is of that young girl child you ignored begging for money and later on learnt she died from starvation.
You are convinced you have come up with a defence outline that should but just untangle you out of that blunder and get you the green light to proceed to heaven where you surely deserve.
As the proceedings start, you rehearse the answer - "but Lord, back on earth it was hard to discern who was a genuine beggar and who was a fake one. Moreover, you are the one who taught us we ought to be good stewards of the resources you bless us with!"
However, to your surprise, two angels come in through the back-door rolling a heavy drum and you wonder - "what manner of evidence against me is that?"
Then the Lord will say this is the evidence that condemns you to hell! Overwhelmed and quacking you say, "What is that Lord? I've never seen that before - that's definitely not my stuff. There should be a mix-up here. I know I have sinned but not that much."
He then says to you, Ooh! That's just a collection of your sperms when you were committing adultery and fornication - roughly 20 litres! You see, the average human male produces 5ml of sperm fluid during sexual intercourse. Doing that three times a week for 25 years gives around 20 litres of semen! But since you were an accountant, I figure you would prefer me to give your exact amount - 19.5 litres of sperm fluid.
With a stern face He then commands, may the angels banish this fellow and those with whom he committed sexual immorality with to hell. And take your stinking drum with you for heaven cannot contain such!
With your world thrown upside down - you wonder how they ever got to collect all your immoral sperms. The Lord divinely discerning your heart says - Well it was really very easy. Since you were very cautious of contracting HIV/ AIDS, you resorted to using condoms for protection. Now whenever you disposed of those condoms, angels would eventually find and collect them.
It was a messy job though but at the end of the day [or should I say life] enough evidence was gathered against your sexual immorality behaviour that left many families broken and souls shattered.
"Next case please!"
Walter Tsuro is the author of the ebook "THE POVERTY BREAKER - 603 effective prayer points to make life better". Request to purchase a copy from wallytsuro@gmail.com.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short stories. Show all posts
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Tormented
I don't see it coming. There's a loud, deafening crash. The excruciating pain I feel upon impact only lasts a second.
I float upward and hover. I see two mangled cars. Is the dark one mine?
I see a man partially hanging out the door. He looks dead. He's wearing my clothes. Is it me? Am I dead? I can't be dead--I'm only twenty years old!
Another man is slumped over in the other car. He looks dead, too. I don't know him.
Someone is hovering next to me. It's the man from the other car. We watch together as onlookers gather. A woman is wailing, "Lord, have mercy!" Sirens are screaming, lights are flashing.
Creatures appear. Three approach me. They are very gruesome. They surround me. I'm so afraid--more afraid than I've ever been. Two of them grab me. I struggle desperately to get away, but can't; they laugh a horrible, evil laugh. The third one goes toward the other man and says, "We'll take him, too."
Three more creatures surround the man, but they look different. They are extraordinary, but not gruesome. When the gruesome creature reaches for the man, the extraordinary creatures intervene. "This man is redeemed by the blood of the Lamb; in the name of Jesus, depart, demon!" they exhort.
A bright light shines down on the man and the three extraordinary creatures. Angels, yes, they are angels, I realize. The man and three angels disappear into the light.
The demons carried me away. I'm put into a sinister, dark place. I can't see anyone or anything; I hear the screams and wails of countless others.
I weep, scream, and gnash my teeth. I know I can never leave this place. I am in Hell.
Why am I here? I'm not so bad. I believe in God. I go to church. I'm basically a good person. I was baptized as a baby--didn't that count for something?
It's all coming back to me now: 'for all have sinned,' 'not by works...,' 'For God so loved the world,' 'I am the way...,' Believe in the name of the Lord Jesus.' How many times did I hear Christians say these things? But I spurned them.
I remember all the times I mocked Jesus. His name is nothing but a curse word to me. I think of my countless excuses: Who needs Jesus? What's he going to save me from? I believe in God, so why do I need Jesus? Isn't it narrow minded to think Jesus is the only way? So many times I refused to believe--now it's too late.
All the sinful things I did in life come to mind. Shame, regret, and sadness consume me; I know I deserve to be here--I am guilty of so much. But I know just one sin would have brought me here, this place of torment, away from Holy God. Now I am paying my sin debt--forever.
There's fire. It's so hot--I'm so hot... I'm burning. I'm tormented! It doesn't stop! "Help me, save me, Jesus. I'm so sorry, so very sorry."
I awaken. I'm in my bed. It was only a dream--a horrible nightmare! Or was it a vision?
A flood of relief envelops me.
Humbled, broken, and repentant, I get down on my knees and pray. "God, I have sinned against you. Forgive me for all the times I mocked and rejected your Son, Jesus. Now I understand why Jesus died on the cross, it was to save me from the penalty of my sins. And the penalty of sin is to spend eternity separated from you--in Hell. But Jesus paid my penalty so I don't have to. All you require is for me to put my faith and trust in Him. Thank you for revealing your truth to me. I know I can do nothing to save myself. Trying to be a good person, doing good works, baptism--nothing can save me. Only Jesus can save me and give me eternal life. Jesus, the sinless, perfect sacrifice, I receive you as my Savior and Lord of my life. Amen
Written by Terri Schroeder
Copyright 2010
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
I float upward and hover. I see two mangled cars. Is the dark one mine?
I see a man partially hanging out the door. He looks dead. He's wearing my clothes. Is it me? Am I dead? I can't be dead--I'm only twenty years old!
Another man is slumped over in the other car. He looks dead, too. I don't know him.
Someone is hovering next to me. It's the man from the other car. We watch together as onlookers gather. A woman is wailing, "Lord, have mercy!" Sirens are screaming, lights are flashing.
Creatures appear. Three approach me. They are very gruesome. They surround me. I'm so afraid--more afraid than I've ever been. Two of them grab me. I struggle desperately to get away, but can't; they laugh a horrible, evil laugh. The third one goes toward the other man and says, "We'll take him, too."
Three more creatures surround the man, but they look different. They are extraordinary, but not gruesome. When the gruesome creature reaches for the man, the extraordinary creatures intervene. "This man is redeemed by the blood of the Lamb; in the name of Jesus, depart, demon!" they exhort.
A bright light shines down on the man and the three extraordinary creatures. Angels, yes, they are angels, I realize. The man and three angels disappear into the light.
The demons carried me away. I'm put into a sinister, dark place. I can't see anyone or anything; I hear the screams and wails of countless others.
I weep, scream, and gnash my teeth. I know I can never leave this place. I am in Hell.
Why am I here? I'm not so bad. I believe in God. I go to church. I'm basically a good person. I was baptized as a baby--didn't that count for something?
It's all coming back to me now: 'for all have sinned,' 'not by works...,' 'For God so loved the world,' 'I am the way...,' Believe in the name of the Lord Jesus.' How many times did I hear Christians say these things? But I spurned them.
I remember all the times I mocked Jesus. His name is nothing but a curse word to me. I think of my countless excuses: Who needs Jesus? What's he going to save me from? I believe in God, so why do I need Jesus? Isn't it narrow minded to think Jesus is the only way? So many times I refused to believe--now it's too late.
All the sinful things I did in life come to mind. Shame, regret, and sadness consume me; I know I deserve to be here--I am guilty of so much. But I know just one sin would have brought me here, this place of torment, away from Holy God. Now I am paying my sin debt--forever.
There's fire. It's so hot--I'm so hot... I'm burning. I'm tormented! It doesn't stop! "Help me, save me, Jesus. I'm so sorry, so very sorry."
I awaken. I'm in my bed. It was only a dream--a horrible nightmare! Or was it a vision?
A flood of relief envelops me.
Humbled, broken, and repentant, I get down on my knees and pray. "God, I have sinned against you. Forgive me for all the times I mocked and rejected your Son, Jesus. Now I understand why Jesus died on the cross, it was to save me from the penalty of my sins. And the penalty of sin is to spend eternity separated from you--in Hell. But Jesus paid my penalty so I don't have to. All you require is for me to put my faith and trust in Him. Thank you for revealing your truth to me. I know I can do nothing to save myself. Trying to be a good person, doing good works, baptism--nothing can save me. Only Jesus can save me and give me eternal life. Jesus, the sinless, perfect sacrifice, I receive you as my Savior and Lord of my life. Amen
Written by Terri Schroeder
Copyright 2010
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Will Work For Food
She was standing near Wally World. Another panhandler. On any given day, they stood at every corner in the shopping district. Most of them looked able-bodied to me, so I'd drive past. If they looked like they couldn't physically or mentally hold a job, I'd give 'em some cash and a tract. I probably got suckered more often than not--the cash going for drugs, booze, or cigarettes; the tract tossed on the ground or cast to the wind.
But something about her was different.
I wheeled into the parking lot and scurried over. When she spotted me coming, her eyes widened. Surprise? Fear? She probably didn't expect a face-to-face encounter. I half expected her to bolt like a scared rabbit.
I slowed my approach and smiled, hoping that would calm her. "Hi, I see you're looking for work."
Silently, she held the piece of cardboard with bold, black letters in front of her face, summoning it to speak for her:
WILL WORK FOR FOOD
GOD BLESS
Funny how they always stick in the GOD BLESS part. Appeal to the benevolent Christians.
"What sort of work do you do?" Hope she's not deaf--I can't sign. "Maybe I could help you out"
The bent cardboard flapped in the gusty wind.
She scowled and stepped back. "What are you, a pervert or something?"
She sized me up. I wore jeans, a wool sweater, down parka, boots, and knit hat pulled down over my ears; just average looking; nothing sinister about me.
"I'm not a hooker," she added, defiantly. She looked about twenty--close to my age.
"I didn't think you were." I shot back. Then, in a softer voice, "But I know a few people--got connections...."
She chewed at her chapped bottom lip; dried blood collected in the cracks. "Can't you just give me some money?" she begged.
I glanced at the Now Hiring sign in Wally World's window; her piercing eyes followed mine. "They're hiring for the Christmas season."
Shivering, she shuffled from foot to foot. No hat, boots, nor gloves. She was either really destitute or underdressed to play the "poor me" role.
"What do I eat 'til I get a paycheck--snowballs?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Tell you what--we're both starved--how about joining me for a hot meal at that restaurant?" I nodded toward Stella's Kitchen, across the parking lot. "Then we can talk about it--it'll be my treat."
"Are you Mrs. Claus or just some do-gooder trying to get to heaven?" She snuffed and smirked.
This girl was jaded.
"Nope, not Mrs. Claus; and I already got my ticket to heaven--it's via Jesus. Do want you to eat or not?" I turned and started walking toward the restaurant. "Meet you over there," I called over my shoulder.
She had already turned her attention back to the traffic.
The bustling waitress greeted me. "Dining alone today?"
"No, someone will be joining me. I'd love some coffee while I wait for my guest, though."
The waitress hurried to get coffee; I watched the girl from the window.
I sat alone for fifteen minutes--long enough get warm and pray for the girl; I asked for divine intervention.
She'll be along soon.
I was finishing my second cup of coffee when she arrived.
"Offer still stand?" she sheepishly asked. Her eyes avoided mine.
"Of course--I was waiting for you." Handing her a menu, I continued, "I haven't even ordered yet."
She slid into the booth, smiled, and scanned the menu. "Hey, I really appreciate this."
I extended my hand across the table, "My name's Faith Nelson--and yours is...?"
Her icy hand grasped mine. "Just call me Jane--Jane Doe." She brushed some hair off her face, exposing a bruise by one eye.
Take it slow, don't push her.
She wolfed down her food.
Hesitantly, she began, "It all started when..."
Over the next several hours, while we sipped coffee, she relaxed and revealed the details of her plight.
"...and that's how I ended up here," she concluded with a sigh. "Is there any hope for me?" Her eyes pleaded, questioned.
"Umm...my name's really Jennifer, too. Sorry--I lied."
Tears rolled down both our faces.
I patted her hand. "Ooh, I'm positive there's hope. I have a very good friend in a very high place; would you like to meet Him?"
"Yeah, I'd like that.
Written by Terri Schroeder
Copyright 2010
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
But something about her was different.
I wheeled into the parking lot and scurried over. When she spotted me coming, her eyes widened. Surprise? Fear? She probably didn't expect a face-to-face encounter. I half expected her to bolt like a scared rabbit.
I slowed my approach and smiled, hoping that would calm her. "Hi, I see you're looking for work."
Silently, she held the piece of cardboard with bold, black letters in front of her face, summoning it to speak for her:
WILL WORK FOR FOOD
GOD BLESS
Funny how they always stick in the GOD BLESS part. Appeal to the benevolent Christians.
"What sort of work do you do?" Hope she's not deaf--I can't sign. "Maybe I could help you out"
The bent cardboard flapped in the gusty wind.
She scowled and stepped back. "What are you, a pervert or something?"
She sized me up. I wore jeans, a wool sweater, down parka, boots, and knit hat pulled down over my ears; just average looking; nothing sinister about me.
"I'm not a hooker," she added, defiantly. She looked about twenty--close to my age.
"I didn't think you were." I shot back. Then, in a softer voice, "But I know a few people--got connections...."
She chewed at her chapped bottom lip; dried blood collected in the cracks. "Can't you just give me some money?" she begged.
I glanced at the Now Hiring sign in Wally World's window; her piercing eyes followed mine. "They're hiring for the Christmas season."
Shivering, she shuffled from foot to foot. No hat, boots, nor gloves. She was either really destitute or underdressed to play the "poor me" role.
"What do I eat 'til I get a paycheck--snowballs?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm.
"Tell you what--we're both starved--how about joining me for a hot meal at that restaurant?" I nodded toward Stella's Kitchen, across the parking lot. "Then we can talk about it--it'll be my treat."
"Are you Mrs. Claus or just some do-gooder trying to get to heaven?" She snuffed and smirked.
This girl was jaded.
"Nope, not Mrs. Claus; and I already got my ticket to heaven--it's via Jesus. Do want you to eat or not?" I turned and started walking toward the restaurant. "Meet you over there," I called over my shoulder.
She had already turned her attention back to the traffic.
The bustling waitress greeted me. "Dining alone today?"
"No, someone will be joining me. I'd love some coffee while I wait for my guest, though."
The waitress hurried to get coffee; I watched the girl from the window.
I sat alone for fifteen minutes--long enough get warm and pray for the girl; I asked for divine intervention.
She'll be along soon.
I was finishing my second cup of coffee when she arrived.
"Offer still stand?" she sheepishly asked. Her eyes avoided mine.
"Of course--I was waiting for you." Handing her a menu, I continued, "I haven't even ordered yet."
She slid into the booth, smiled, and scanned the menu. "Hey, I really appreciate this."
I extended my hand across the table, "My name's Faith Nelson--and yours is...?"
Her icy hand grasped mine. "Just call me Jane--Jane Doe." She brushed some hair off her face, exposing a bruise by one eye.
Take it slow, don't push her.
She wolfed down her food.
Hesitantly, she began, "It all started when..."
Over the next several hours, while we sipped coffee, she relaxed and revealed the details of her plight.
"...and that's how I ended up here," she concluded with a sigh. "Is there any hope for me?" Her eyes pleaded, questioned.
"Umm...my name's really Jennifer, too. Sorry--I lied."
Tears rolled down both our faces.
I patted her hand. "Ooh, I'm positive there's hope. I have a very good friend in a very high place; would you like to meet Him?"
"Yeah, I'd like that.
Written by Terri Schroeder
Copyright 2010
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Monday, November 29, 2010
Joe
"I'll bet you can't!"
"I can too."
"You think you can climb to the top of that pole?" came another voice.
The three boys in blue jeans and T-shirts stared up at the top of the power pole. It seemed like it was a mile high.
"Sure, no problem. See the spikes sticking out the sides. That's what they're for."
"Yeh, but that's for the power company, not for you."
"Well if they can do it. I can too."
"No Mike, don't do it, you'll get in trouble. Your mom will be mad. She'll probably ground you for life."
"Nah, she won't care. She's got a new boy friend"
"I wish my mom was like yours."
"Yeh, your mom is nice."
"Why?"
"Well, she listens to you. She doesn't yell at you all the time and she always wants to meet your friends. My mom and dad never want to see my friends. As long as I'm out of their way after supper, they're happy. I know dad works hard all day, but still, it would be nice if we could do things together, like you and your mom and sister."
"My dad is OK. We don't go out together though. He's too busy." from Tim.
"Yeh, maybe I won't climb the pole. It wouldn't be a good example for Susie." Although he still seemed to be checking out the pole.
"Mr. Jones, our Sunday School teacher did say we should be an example for our friends and those younger than us. Thank you Joe for reminding me. You know you're a good friend. You look out for me, you too, Tim. And mom does need some adult company. And Dick is a nice man, he doesn't mind if Susie and I are around."
As they headed towards home, Mike said, "Dick told me he was going to take me fishing some weekend, maybe he'll take you guys too. I can ask him."
"Maybe you should go out with him alone first. Then if he sounds interested we could go next time." Joe said.
"Yea, we don't want to scare him off."
The very next day as the boys were walking to school, Mike couldn't seem to hold back his excitement. "Joe, Tim, guess what! Dick is taking me fishing on Saturday. I can hardly wait."
"You're lucky man. Don't forget to ask if I can come next time. OK." from Joe.
"Oh, I'm sure he won't mind. He's excellent. You know, I think he likes my mom. I don't know why. She's pretty old. But I guess he is too. I'll make sure I ask him if you can come next time."
After school that day as Joe came in the front door, he heard his mother crying on the phone, "I don't know Jill, Frank is talking about divorce. I don't know what to do." Mike and Tim were waiting outside so they could go to the park.
Joe stopped in his tracks. What was this? Dad wouldn't leave would he? Things weren't that bad were they? Gee, he'd have to think about this.
"Hi mom, is anything wrong."
"Nothing you can help with. Just leave me alone."
Joe rushed out the door tears running down his cheeks. Tim and Mike ran after him. As he raced towards the playground he bumped into a large body.
"Hi Joe. Is something wrong?" It was Mr. Jones his Sunday school teacher, he grabbed Joe by the arm. Joe tried to shake him off. "You wouldn't understand."
"Why don't you try me."
"My dad is going to leave, divorce us."
"Why do you say that?"
"I heard mom talking on the phone." She was mad.
"What did she say?"
So Joe told Mr. Jones what he had overheard.
"Listen son, you don't worry about it. Lets pray that God will take care of this," so they bowed their heads and Mr. Jones said a quick prayer.
"Joe, why don't you come home with me. I'll phone your dad and talk to him. OK? Are you boys with Joe?" as he noticed the two boys staring at them. "Maybe you can talk to Joe later."
"Dad will probably be mad at me. He's been kind of grouchy lately"
"Oh, I'm sure he won't be mad, upset maybe."
So they walked down the street to Mr. Jones' house, as they passed Mike's house he saw Tim and Mike going inside. They waved to Joe and Mr. Jones.
"Can you come in for a while?" to Tim.
"Well I can't stay long, my mom likes me to get at my home work before she gets home."
"Maybe, we could work on our homework together?"
"You sure your mom won't be mad?"
"Oh no, we can have some juice and an apple."
So the two boys went into Mike's room, chattering like squirrels.
"I hope Joe is alright," Mike spoke thoughtfully.
"Yea, that must be rough. What should we do first? Math?"
Down the street, Mr. Jones was talking with Joe's dad.
"Sure, I understand, Frank. Maybe we can talk about it. How about going someplace for a coffee, after supper? What about tomorrow evening?"
(c) Esther A. Provencher
(story edited by Richard L. Provencher)
Richard & his wife Esther Provencher believe in the power of prayer, as Richard continues to heal successfully from his stroke in 1999. They hope their stories and poems are encouraging in a difficult yet awesome world. Pray for others and learn to forgive, especially your children and siblings.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
"I can too."
"You think you can climb to the top of that pole?" came another voice.
The three boys in blue jeans and T-shirts stared up at the top of the power pole. It seemed like it was a mile high.
"Sure, no problem. See the spikes sticking out the sides. That's what they're for."
"Yeh, but that's for the power company, not for you."
"Well if they can do it. I can too."
"No Mike, don't do it, you'll get in trouble. Your mom will be mad. She'll probably ground you for life."
"Nah, she won't care. She's got a new boy friend"
"I wish my mom was like yours."
"Yeh, your mom is nice."
"Why?"
"Well, she listens to you. She doesn't yell at you all the time and she always wants to meet your friends. My mom and dad never want to see my friends. As long as I'm out of their way after supper, they're happy. I know dad works hard all day, but still, it would be nice if we could do things together, like you and your mom and sister."
"My dad is OK. We don't go out together though. He's too busy." from Tim.
"Yeh, maybe I won't climb the pole. It wouldn't be a good example for Susie." Although he still seemed to be checking out the pole.
"Mr. Jones, our Sunday School teacher did say we should be an example for our friends and those younger than us. Thank you Joe for reminding me. You know you're a good friend. You look out for me, you too, Tim. And mom does need some adult company. And Dick is a nice man, he doesn't mind if Susie and I are around."
As they headed towards home, Mike said, "Dick told me he was going to take me fishing some weekend, maybe he'll take you guys too. I can ask him."
"Maybe you should go out with him alone first. Then if he sounds interested we could go next time." Joe said.
"Yea, we don't want to scare him off."
The very next day as the boys were walking to school, Mike couldn't seem to hold back his excitement. "Joe, Tim, guess what! Dick is taking me fishing on Saturday. I can hardly wait."
"You're lucky man. Don't forget to ask if I can come next time. OK." from Joe.
"Oh, I'm sure he won't mind. He's excellent. You know, I think he likes my mom. I don't know why. She's pretty old. But I guess he is too. I'll make sure I ask him if you can come next time."
After school that day as Joe came in the front door, he heard his mother crying on the phone, "I don't know Jill, Frank is talking about divorce. I don't know what to do." Mike and Tim were waiting outside so they could go to the park.
Joe stopped in his tracks. What was this? Dad wouldn't leave would he? Things weren't that bad were they? Gee, he'd have to think about this.
"Hi mom, is anything wrong."
"Nothing you can help with. Just leave me alone."
Joe rushed out the door tears running down his cheeks. Tim and Mike ran after him. As he raced towards the playground he bumped into a large body.
"Hi Joe. Is something wrong?" It was Mr. Jones his Sunday school teacher, he grabbed Joe by the arm. Joe tried to shake him off. "You wouldn't understand."
"Why don't you try me."
"My dad is going to leave, divorce us."
"Why do you say that?"
"I heard mom talking on the phone." She was mad.
"What did she say?"
So Joe told Mr. Jones what he had overheard.
"Listen son, you don't worry about it. Lets pray that God will take care of this," so they bowed their heads and Mr. Jones said a quick prayer.
"Joe, why don't you come home with me. I'll phone your dad and talk to him. OK? Are you boys with Joe?" as he noticed the two boys staring at them. "Maybe you can talk to Joe later."
"Dad will probably be mad at me. He's been kind of grouchy lately"
"Oh, I'm sure he won't be mad, upset maybe."
So they walked down the street to Mr. Jones' house, as they passed Mike's house he saw Tim and Mike going inside. They waved to Joe and Mr. Jones.
"Can you come in for a while?" to Tim.
"Well I can't stay long, my mom likes me to get at my home work before she gets home."
"Maybe, we could work on our homework together?"
"You sure your mom won't be mad?"
"Oh no, we can have some juice and an apple."
So the two boys went into Mike's room, chattering like squirrels.
"I hope Joe is alright," Mike spoke thoughtfully.
"Yea, that must be rough. What should we do first? Math?"
Down the street, Mr. Jones was talking with Joe's dad.
"Sure, I understand, Frank. Maybe we can talk about it. How about going someplace for a coffee, after supper? What about tomorrow evening?"
(c) Esther A. Provencher
(story edited by Richard L. Provencher)
Richard & his wife Esther Provencher believe in the power of prayer, as Richard continues to heal successfully from his stroke in 1999. They hope their stories and poems are encouraging in a difficult yet awesome world. Pray for others and learn to forgive, especially your children and siblings.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Full of Hope
The holidays had been difficult on her since her mother died three years ago. Sometimes it seemed as if she had passed away only yesterday, the pain was so sharp; and other times it felt like a lifetime since she had seen her mother slowly waste away in a hospital bed while the doctors watched helplessly.
Cancer. The word still left a bitter taste in her mouth. Cancer was a thief that had taken her mother from her before she was ready to let go. Some days it was all she could do to keep goingto eat, sleep, work, and readas if she were still whole inside. As if nothing at all had changed.
It was a lie. Her entire life had been ripped apart the day her mother died.
Now, Hope took a deep breath of the icy December air. Mom, I still miss you. So much. The words, thought but not said aloud, did nothing to ease the ache inside her. She stood on Main Avenue the day before Christmas, gazing unseeingly into the display window of the department store. Christmas is tomorrow and I should be happy, she knew. Would the pain ever leave?
Breathing a sigh, Hope turned away from the window and began walking down the sidewalk. Even among dozens of other people rushing to get last minute Christmas shopping done, she felt alone. What was it her mother had always told her? God is always with you, Hope. Even when you feel alone and unloved. Well, that was certainly her right nowalone and unloved. If only her mother was right about God. Hope had grown up believing in God with a childlike faith. But since her mom's death, she wasn't so sure if God even existed. How can there be a loving God out there that lets people die? If there really is a God, where is He now? The questions continued to plague her as they had for the past three years.
Hope climbed into her car and started the ignition. Though she felt the warmth of the heater in her face, it did nothing to warm her cold, hard heart. She left behind the busyness of town and hit the highway she knew better than any other road. Within minutes, she was pulling up in front of the house she and her mother had lived in when she was alive. Hope hadn't gathered the courage to sell it, and she wondered if she ever would. It had always just been Hope and her mom; her father had left when Hope was young and her mother never remarried or had any other children. Hope was nineteen when her mom was first diagnosed with cancer. She had beaten it that time, but a year later she found another lump on her side. This time, there was nothing anyone could do.
Shivering, Hope unlocked the front door and slipped inside. Even after all this time, the house was still the same as her mother had left itsame living room arrangement, same drapes on the windows, same photos lining the mantel. It even smelled like her perfume, a sweet and rich fragrance that hung over the entire house. Hope tried not to breathe in too deeply as she trudged up the stairs. In her mother's room, she felt a sob work its way up her throat and had to choke it back. Still, the tears came as she sank onto the bed, fingering the patchwork comforter. I'm only as far away as your heart, her mother had told her before she died, her voice a faint whisper as she held Hope's hand. Do you believe that, Hope?
Hope had nodded, the tears rolling down her cheeks much as they did now, unbidden. She stood and was about to leave the room when she noticed something stuck between the pages of her mother's Bible on the nightstand. Before she could stop herself, Hope reached for the Book and flipped it open to where the bookmark was. Except it wasn't a bookmark, she saw now, pulling it out and flipping it over. It was an envelope, and on the front in her mother's flowing script were the words To Hope.
"What's this?" Hope whispered. She slid her finger beneath the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. The date printed at the top of the page read December 24, the day before her mom died. Hope sank onto the bed again and began reading:
My dearest Hope,
If you are reading this, then I have already gone to Heaven. Don't cry now, Hope. I'm happy there, happier than I ever could be here on earth. I want to tell you how much I love you, my dear one. You're the sunshine in my life, and you always have been since the day you were born. I was so young when I had you, Hope, but I fell in love the first time I held you in my arms. Do you know why I named you Hope? I had always loved the name, but it was then when I was holding you that I first felt itfull of hope. No matter what the future held, I had my little girl, my precious Hope. You were so happy all the time, full of hugs and giggles. I remember one occasion when you were very young, about three years old. I asked who loved you and you told me, "Two people, Mamma. You and Jesus." Oh, I remember that day as if it were yesterday. You always knew how to make me laugh and cry. I love you, Hope, and so does Jesus. Never forget that. No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little girl. Never stop believing, no matter how dark life may seem. God is with you and He loves you. Remember, my precious, who you arefull of Hope.
Love always,
Mamma
The tears continued to flow even when she finished reading and dropped the letter into her lap. Covering her face, she wept the way she hadn't in three yearsnot as much from her loss as from the realization that her mother was, once again, right. God did love her, no matter how much it seemed otherwise, and He was with her. She knew that as clearly as if God Himself had stepped in and wrapped His arms around her. Let me heal your broken heart, my child. I know the pain you are going through, and I want to help you if you'll only let me.
Hope raised her eyes. Her mother's words came back to her: "Remember who you arefull of Hope. Remember who you are"
"Yes," she whispered. Looking past her darkness, she could see a light at the end of the tunnel, beckoning her closer and closer, and for the first time in years she felt lightfull of hope.
I am 18 years old and an aspiring writer. I have been writing since I was very young and I absolutely love it. I have a strong urge to go into Christian fiction one day in the near future.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Cancer. The word still left a bitter taste in her mouth. Cancer was a thief that had taken her mother from her before she was ready to let go. Some days it was all she could do to keep goingto eat, sleep, work, and readas if she were still whole inside. As if nothing at all had changed.
It was a lie. Her entire life had been ripped apart the day her mother died.
Now, Hope took a deep breath of the icy December air. Mom, I still miss you. So much. The words, thought but not said aloud, did nothing to ease the ache inside her. She stood on Main Avenue the day before Christmas, gazing unseeingly into the display window of the department store. Christmas is tomorrow and I should be happy, she knew. Would the pain ever leave?
Breathing a sigh, Hope turned away from the window and began walking down the sidewalk. Even among dozens of other people rushing to get last minute Christmas shopping done, she felt alone. What was it her mother had always told her? God is always with you, Hope. Even when you feel alone and unloved. Well, that was certainly her right nowalone and unloved. If only her mother was right about God. Hope had grown up believing in God with a childlike faith. But since her mom's death, she wasn't so sure if God even existed. How can there be a loving God out there that lets people die? If there really is a God, where is He now? The questions continued to plague her as they had for the past three years.
Hope climbed into her car and started the ignition. Though she felt the warmth of the heater in her face, it did nothing to warm her cold, hard heart. She left behind the busyness of town and hit the highway she knew better than any other road. Within minutes, she was pulling up in front of the house she and her mother had lived in when she was alive. Hope hadn't gathered the courage to sell it, and she wondered if she ever would. It had always just been Hope and her mom; her father had left when Hope was young and her mother never remarried or had any other children. Hope was nineteen when her mom was first diagnosed with cancer. She had beaten it that time, but a year later she found another lump on her side. This time, there was nothing anyone could do.
Shivering, Hope unlocked the front door and slipped inside. Even after all this time, the house was still the same as her mother had left itsame living room arrangement, same drapes on the windows, same photos lining the mantel. It even smelled like her perfume, a sweet and rich fragrance that hung over the entire house. Hope tried not to breathe in too deeply as she trudged up the stairs. In her mother's room, she felt a sob work its way up her throat and had to choke it back. Still, the tears came as she sank onto the bed, fingering the patchwork comforter. I'm only as far away as your heart, her mother had told her before she died, her voice a faint whisper as she held Hope's hand. Do you believe that, Hope?
Hope had nodded, the tears rolling down her cheeks much as they did now, unbidden. She stood and was about to leave the room when she noticed something stuck between the pages of her mother's Bible on the nightstand. Before she could stop herself, Hope reached for the Book and flipped it open to where the bookmark was. Except it wasn't a bookmark, she saw now, pulling it out and flipping it over. It was an envelope, and on the front in her mother's flowing script were the words To Hope.
"What's this?" Hope whispered. She slid her finger beneath the flap of the envelope and pulled out a sheet of paper. The date printed at the top of the page read December 24, the day before her mom died. Hope sank onto the bed again and began reading:
My dearest Hope,
If you are reading this, then I have already gone to Heaven. Don't cry now, Hope. I'm happy there, happier than I ever could be here on earth. I want to tell you how much I love you, my dear one. You're the sunshine in my life, and you always have been since the day you were born. I was so young when I had you, Hope, but I fell in love the first time I held you in my arms. Do you know why I named you Hope? I had always loved the name, but it was then when I was holding you that I first felt itfull of hope. No matter what the future held, I had my little girl, my precious Hope. You were so happy all the time, full of hugs and giggles. I remember one occasion when you were very young, about three years old. I asked who loved you and you told me, "Two people, Mamma. You and Jesus." Oh, I remember that day as if it were yesterday. You always knew how to make me laugh and cry. I love you, Hope, and so does Jesus. Never forget that. No matter how old you get, you'll always be my little girl. Never stop believing, no matter how dark life may seem. God is with you and He loves you. Remember, my precious, who you arefull of Hope.
Love always,
Mamma
The tears continued to flow even when she finished reading and dropped the letter into her lap. Covering her face, she wept the way she hadn't in three yearsnot as much from her loss as from the realization that her mother was, once again, right. God did love her, no matter how much it seemed otherwise, and He was with her. She knew that as clearly as if God Himself had stepped in and wrapped His arms around her. Let me heal your broken heart, my child. I know the pain you are going through, and I want to help you if you'll only let me.
Hope raised her eyes. Her mother's words came back to her: "Remember who you arefull of Hope. Remember who you are"
"Yes," she whispered. Looking past her darkness, she could see a light at the end of the tunnel, beckoning her closer and closer, and for the first time in years she felt lightfull of hope.
I am 18 years old and an aspiring writer. I have been writing since I was very young and I absolutely love it. I have a strong urge to go into Christian fiction one day in the near future.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Friday, November 19, 2010
Trust And Belief
I will be writing on trust and belief, Biblically and fundamentally they are the same thing but with time the world has watered down the definition of belief and lost direction for Whom to trust in. Allow me to explain, belief to people in this day and age appears to be something in which they might just possibly feel/agree. For example people nowadays normally say: “Today being Sunday, I believe Crawford market would be closed” or “Arjun believes Dharmesh is a man of good character”. In terms of trust, people trust in the silliest of things, right from the superstitious cat crossing the road, to the reading of daily horoscopes. The funny thing is, only the hale and hearty people find time and energy to trust in these sillies, a person in his death bed would be least bothered even if a cat is sitting under his government hospital bed nor will he be bothered about his daily horoscope because that would have nothing about “you will be fighting for your life today”.
Let see what the real among the counterfeit, the Book of books, the Bible says. The Bible says that we ought not to trust in our wealth or strength or people or power or even our own judgment if it is contrary to trusting in God.
Jeremiah 17:5 (about trusting in people)
The Lord says, “I will condemn those who turn away from me and put their trust in human beings, in the strength of mortals.
Jeremiah 49:4 (about trusting in power)
Why do you unfaithful people boast? Your strength is failing. Why do you trust in your power and say that no one would dare attack you?
Jeremiah 48:7 (about trusting in strength and wealth)
7 “Moab, you trusted in your strength and your wealth,
but now even you will be conquered;
….
Proverbs 3:5 (about trusting in understanding contrary to God)
Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding;
Now when I say trust in God, you will know that it is Almighty God that I am talking about but let me introduce you to the god of this world/age with whom the people of the world agree.
2 Corinthians 4:4
The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.
The god of this age is Satan, who makes people trust in everything other than Jesus. He puts into people a fear of doing what is right and makes the consequences seem bigger than Almighty Jesus. Disobedience has various forms and Satan is the father of them all, doing the right thing has just one way and one reason and that pleases Jesus but doing the wrong thing has multiple choice and multiple reason and all disobedience pleases Satan. A man may say that he did what he did just to make a living, that man’s god was his own well being for that is what he put first. The Bible says to those who know not of the Law of God to them sin is un-accounted for (Romans 5:13) but to those who claim to practice the Law of God, the more stringent/fanatical the practice the more severe the punishment if they do not trust in God’s solution (Jesus) for sin.
Romans 5:13
There was sin in the world before the Law was given; but where there is no law, no account is kept of sins.
As I said earlier Satan is known as the god of this age for he has had his way with the world and takes them for a nice ride (Revelation 12:9), deception can be of various forms but the right trust has just one point and one way and that is Jesus (John 14:6). Contrary to popular belief there are no multiple ways to God for if that were true Jesus would not give his life for me and you. If I wanted to lie to you, I can make up any God dammed story I wanted and present it to you, I do not have to confirm to anything to lie to you so long as you find what I say acceptable & so it is with Satan to hide the Light of God that is in Jesus, he has made different concoctions of religious beliefs right from that of one god to that of many. To Satan no rule applies, he works ever so fervently as days pass for he knows his punishment draws nearer with time(Revelation 12:12).
Revelation 12:9
The huge dragon was thrown out — that ancient serpent, called the Devil, or Satan, that deceived the whole world. He was thrown down to earth, and all his angels with him.
John 14:6
Jesus answered him, “I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one goes to the Father except by me.
Revelation 12:12 (Satan after his defeat is thrown out of heaven)
12 And so be glad, you heavens, and all you that live there! But how terrible for the earth and the sea! For the Devil has come down to you, and he is filled with rage, because he knows that he has only a little time left.”
Bottom line, my friend: it is trust in Jesus that saves (John 3:16). Saves; not only from damnation but also from our life’s consequences; if you doubt this, it means you have never truly applied this science, for your fear of the consequences seems bigger but if you believe & do not doubt this then you are blessed for you have witnessed this at least once. Remember the reason God is telling you something different is because it does not seem right to you, you are unable to grasp this by your own power. Had it made sense to you, you would do it without being told.
John 3:16
16 For God loved the world so much that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not die but have eternal life.
By Fergus Davar (Saved by HIS grace), just a pen in His Hand.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Nevertheless I Live
The Apostle Paul proclaims in Galatians 2:20, "I am crucified with Christ nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life that I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God, who loved me, and gave himself for me." The word "I" in this verse has two meanings. The Greek words "ego" (eg-go') and "zao" (zah'-o) were both translated "I". Ego; me, or the awareness of oneself, is familiar to us. Zao; to live, a vital power, or a life giving force, has a more dynamic meaning. Paul is talking about the "old man" and the "new man". In Ephesians 4:22-24 we read about putting off the old man and putting on the new man. The "new man" is created after God in righteousness and true holiness.
There are two other closely related Greek words that give us some insight about our "new man". The words, "hagnos" (hag-nas') and "hagios" (ha'-gee-as). "Hagnos" means pure and is literally translated "pure" in 1 John 3:3. This verse is speaking of the purifying hope within us. "Hagios" means most holy thing, or a saint, and is translated "that holy thing" in Luke 1:35. This verse describes the miraculous conception of our Lord Jesus Christ when the power of the Highest overshadowed Mary. We have a pure, clean, and righteous inner man. Thank God for what Jesus did for us!
Let there be no mistake about it, "Zao" and "Ego" do not get along. They are contrary to one another (Galatians 5:17). Zao wants to obey God and Ego does not. We must help Zao! What can we do? How can we help him? We can sow to the Spirit (Galatians 6:8). We can feed and clothe him by believing and speaking the Word of God (Romans 10:10). This is how Zao lives. Paul gives us some good advice in Philippians 4:4-7. "Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say Rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ."
Praise Jesus. Just want to share the Joy!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
There are two other closely related Greek words that give us some insight about our "new man". The words, "hagnos" (hag-nas') and "hagios" (ha'-gee-as). "Hagnos" means pure and is literally translated "pure" in 1 John 3:3. This verse is speaking of the purifying hope within us. "Hagios" means most holy thing, or a saint, and is translated "that holy thing" in Luke 1:35. This verse describes the miraculous conception of our Lord Jesus Christ when the power of the Highest overshadowed Mary. We have a pure, clean, and righteous inner man. Thank God for what Jesus did for us!
Let there be no mistake about it, "Zao" and "Ego" do not get along. They are contrary to one another (Galatians 5:17). Zao wants to obey God and Ego does not. We must help Zao! What can we do? How can we help him? We can sow to the Spirit (Galatians 6:8). We can feed and clothe him by believing and speaking the Word of God (Romans 10:10). This is how Zao lives. Paul gives us some good advice in Philippians 4:4-7. "Rejoice in the Lord always: and again I say Rejoice. Let your moderation be known unto all men. The Lord is at hand. Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your request be made unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Jesus Christ."
Praise Jesus. Just want to share the Joy!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Thursday, November 11, 2010
President Obama, Visit To Indian
"Rex Patrick Randell," said Mrs.Lalitha Sebastian, the seventh class teacher of Holy Mary High School in Colaba, "You are going to be the writer, director and lead actor in the skit about Mahatma Gandhi. Don't go as per the accepted norm, delve deeper into the character and come about something original. Mind you it should not be more than three minutes. President Obama will be here in the school for only fifteen minutes, and we have other items to showcase."
"Yes teacher," replied the fourteen year old Rex.
Holy Mary School in Colaba was selected to be a part of the President's itinerary, when he visits Mumbai, on November 7, 2010. This private school is just a two minute drive from Taj Mahal, where the President would be staying. The Taj Mahal hotel was the scene of deadly carnage when more than hundred people were killed on November 26, 2008.
Rex, reaching home, waited for his mother, Mrs. Juliet George, a librarian in Bombay Teachers Training College.
"Mom, as you have prayed, I've been selected to play the lead role. But Mrs. Sebastian said that the skit should be a different one."
"Why don't you make a visit to Mani Bhavan at Laburnum Road? It has books, personal letters about Mahatma Gandhi. You may find something interesting. Ask dad to drop you before he goes to work."
Entering the six feet twin paneled front door of the unassuming Mani Bhavan, Rex was greeted by a mix of heady scent of sandalwood and incense sticks, burning near the bust of Mahatma Gandhi. Heeding to Rex's request, one of the office bearers, led him through the front room, which were adorned with sepia tinted photos of freedom fighters, to a room filled with 50,000 books about the life of the Mahatma Gandhi.
Within an hour, he completed the skit, but he was not happy about it. Frustrated, he tossed the notes on the table, and suddenly became aware that he was being watched. Turning towards the corner of the room, he noticed a lone foreigner, who got up and walked towards him.
"Hi," the foreigner wished in a well modulated voice, and introduced himself, "I am Ernest McAllister."
"Hello," replied Rex, "I am Rex Patrick Randell."
"You are reading a lot of books."
"Yes," said Rex smiling, "I am doing a skit on Mahatma Gandhi."
Rex showed him the notes he had prepared. Taking it, Ernest asked, "May I?"
"Please, you are welcome."
"The highlight in your skit would be the letter written by the jailed Mahatma Gandhi to his sick wife Kasturba, that he cannot do anything, except suggest that she should have courage. That's touching."
Seeing the change, Rex was happy, and thanking him, took his leave.
The next day at the school, when he along with his mother walked in, he was stunned to see the transformation, as the entire school was cordoned off with police, interspersed with a few Americans, wearing black suits and goggles. After the presentation of the skit, Rex was discussing with his teacher about the contribution of Ernest, when to his stunned surprise, Ernest himself came from behind and wished him. Rex introduced his teacher and his mother to Ernest. After the introductions, Ernest excused and left.
"He is from the Secret Service," said Mrs. Lalitha, "They have been visiting the school from the time the Presidents' itinerary was announced."
"But I met him in Mani Bhavan also."
"It's also in the Presidents' itinerary."
"Mom, why did you suggest that I go to Mani Bhavan for preparing the skit?" asked Rex as they were sitting in the living room, after having dinner.
"Rex, I prayed," replied Mrs. Juliet, "That you do the skit all by yourself. I would have helped you in preparing it, but you wouldn't have had the satisfaction of doing a good job."
"But mom, will the President like it?"
"He will, we'll pray about it. Come let's pray."
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
"Yes teacher," replied the fourteen year old Rex.
Holy Mary School in Colaba was selected to be a part of the President's itinerary, when he visits Mumbai, on November 7, 2010. This private school is just a two minute drive from Taj Mahal, where the President would be staying. The Taj Mahal hotel was the scene of deadly carnage when more than hundred people were killed on November 26, 2008.
Rex, reaching home, waited for his mother, Mrs. Juliet George, a librarian in Bombay Teachers Training College.
"Mom, as you have prayed, I've been selected to play the lead role. But Mrs. Sebastian said that the skit should be a different one."
"Why don't you make a visit to Mani Bhavan at Laburnum Road? It has books, personal letters about Mahatma Gandhi. You may find something interesting. Ask dad to drop you before he goes to work."
Entering the six feet twin paneled front door of the unassuming Mani Bhavan, Rex was greeted by a mix of heady scent of sandalwood and incense sticks, burning near the bust of Mahatma Gandhi. Heeding to Rex's request, one of the office bearers, led him through the front room, which were adorned with sepia tinted photos of freedom fighters, to a room filled with 50,000 books about the life of the Mahatma Gandhi.
Within an hour, he completed the skit, but he was not happy about it. Frustrated, he tossed the notes on the table, and suddenly became aware that he was being watched. Turning towards the corner of the room, he noticed a lone foreigner, who got up and walked towards him.
"Hi," the foreigner wished in a well modulated voice, and introduced himself, "I am Ernest McAllister."
"Hello," replied Rex, "I am Rex Patrick Randell."
"You are reading a lot of books."
"Yes," said Rex smiling, "I am doing a skit on Mahatma Gandhi."
Rex showed him the notes he had prepared. Taking it, Ernest asked, "May I?"
"Please, you are welcome."
"The highlight in your skit would be the letter written by the jailed Mahatma Gandhi to his sick wife Kasturba, that he cannot do anything, except suggest that she should have courage. That's touching."
Seeing the change, Rex was happy, and thanking him, took his leave.
The next day at the school, when he along with his mother walked in, he was stunned to see the transformation, as the entire school was cordoned off with police, interspersed with a few Americans, wearing black suits and goggles. After the presentation of the skit, Rex was discussing with his teacher about the contribution of Ernest, when to his stunned surprise, Ernest himself came from behind and wished him. Rex introduced his teacher and his mother to Ernest. After the introductions, Ernest excused and left.
"He is from the Secret Service," said Mrs. Lalitha, "They have been visiting the school from the time the Presidents' itinerary was announced."
"But I met him in Mani Bhavan also."
"It's also in the Presidents' itinerary."
"Mom, why did you suggest that I go to Mani Bhavan for preparing the skit?" asked Rex as they were sitting in the living room, after having dinner.
"Rex, I prayed," replied Mrs. Juliet, "That you do the skit all by yourself. I would have helped you in preparing it, but you wouldn't have had the satisfaction of doing a good job."
"But mom, will the President like it?"
"He will, we'll pray about it. Come let's pray."
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Saturday, November 6, 2010
5 Ways to Minister to Your Preteen Sunday School Students
Preteens, or "tweens," are at sort of a crossroads in their lives. The alarming fact is that they are exposed to so much more than we were at that age. Evil influences are everywhere, and wrong behavior is often glorified by their peers. More than ever, we need to make our ministry life-changing and relevant to their lives. Many of us only have about an hour Sunday morning to do this. Here are some suggestions to help you get started
1. Know them by name.
This might sound obvious, but our church is very large, with approximately one thousand people in attendance every Sunday. My Sunday school class averages twelve to fourteen children each week, but they're not always the same kids. And I only see them for that hour. So I have to make a special effert to remember their names, first and last. Nothing makes a person feel less important that when you don't know his or her name.
2. Spend time chatting with them before class starts.
As the students are arriving and you are waiting to start the lesson, sit and talk with them. Try to say something to each student, even if it is brief. Ask them how their week went, how school was, if anything special happened during the week. It's not hard to draw them out, especially the preteen age - or any age for that matter. Kids love to talk about what's going on. They need to know you care about them.
3. Correct gently.
There are always going to be children who are noisy, rowdy, or even undisciplined. Try to deal with them in such a way as to not discourage them from coming to Sunday school. Don't yell at them or speak rudely to them. You are the role model. If one child is disrupting so much that the other children are not being able to learn, it is more serious. Of course, the child can't be allowed to hit or hurt the other children if he or she is aggressive.
You might try talking to your pastor or children's director about the problem. You could start asking parents to take turns sitting in on class to help out. Make sure that student's parent is one of the first ones to come in. Pray a lot about this. You don't want to lose the child who is the discipline problem, or any of the other students either.
4. Make your lessons interesting and engaging.
Preteens get bored very quickly, and they don't hesitate to let you know. Mix things up a bit. Make sure to include Bible stories, real-life stories applying the lesson for kids their age, skits, games, and crafts.
5. Pray for them every day.
This is so important. You may be the only person in the world who is praying for them. Make a list of your students and pray for each one by name, including any special needs or situations that you happen to know about in their lives. Pray also that they will have hearts to receive God's instruction, that they will accept Christ, and live godly lives. Pray for them to resist all of the evil influences that abound today.
Preteens are in a unique age of life. Keep a pleasant, kindly attitude towards them. Let them know you enjoy being with them. Remember that our actions speak louder than our words. Reap the benefits of serving the Lord in this important ministry.
Jessica Gerald is a Christian wife, mother of two grown sons, retired elementary school teacher, and current Sunday school teacher of fourth and fifth graders. You may visit her website at http://preteen-ministry.blogspot.com.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
1. Know them by name.
This might sound obvious, but our church is very large, with approximately one thousand people in attendance every Sunday. My Sunday school class averages twelve to fourteen children each week, but they're not always the same kids. And I only see them for that hour. So I have to make a special effert to remember their names, first and last. Nothing makes a person feel less important that when you don't know his or her name.
2. Spend time chatting with them before class starts.
As the students are arriving and you are waiting to start the lesson, sit and talk with them. Try to say something to each student, even if it is brief. Ask them how their week went, how school was, if anything special happened during the week. It's not hard to draw them out, especially the preteen age - or any age for that matter. Kids love to talk about what's going on. They need to know you care about them.
3. Correct gently.
There are always going to be children who are noisy, rowdy, or even undisciplined. Try to deal with them in such a way as to not discourage them from coming to Sunday school. Don't yell at them or speak rudely to them. You are the role model. If one child is disrupting so much that the other children are not being able to learn, it is more serious. Of course, the child can't be allowed to hit or hurt the other children if he or she is aggressive.
You might try talking to your pastor or children's director about the problem. You could start asking parents to take turns sitting in on class to help out. Make sure that student's parent is one of the first ones to come in. Pray a lot about this. You don't want to lose the child who is the discipline problem, or any of the other students either.
4. Make your lessons interesting and engaging.
Preteens get bored very quickly, and they don't hesitate to let you know. Mix things up a bit. Make sure to include Bible stories, real-life stories applying the lesson for kids their age, skits, games, and crafts.
5. Pray for them every day.
This is so important. You may be the only person in the world who is praying for them. Make a list of your students and pray for each one by name, including any special needs or situations that you happen to know about in their lives. Pray also that they will have hearts to receive God's instruction, that they will accept Christ, and live godly lives. Pray for them to resist all of the evil influences that abound today.
Preteens are in a unique age of life. Keep a pleasant, kindly attitude towards them. Let them know you enjoy being with them. Remember that our actions speak louder than our words. Reap the benefits of serving the Lord in this important ministry.
Jessica Gerald is a Christian wife, mother of two grown sons, retired elementary school teacher, and current Sunday school teacher of fourth and fifth graders. You may visit her website at http://preteen-ministry.blogspot.com.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Friday, November 5, 2010
Popcorn, Till Death Do Us Part
Young love is sensual, bringing gratification with each lingering goodnight kiss. I am not intentionally suggestive, just revealing personal experience. As I retrieve memories of dating from way back when, one fact remains clear as crystal; it involved all my senses.
Guys might not realize the intensity of pleasure they provided. First, many were easy on the eyes. A fresh haircut implied he looked forward to our date as much as I did. His selection of a colorful shirt and Wranglers, or dark suit, shirt and tie left a big impression on me. One steady date and I wore matching madras plaid shirts, guess that dates me in my saga.
I snuggled up close to get a better position for aromatherapy. Long before it became trendy or big business a splash of Old Spice, Aqua Velva, English Leather, Canoe or Brut helped me to sit back and relax. The time spent with my head on his shoulder came with repeated deep whiffs of manly fragrance.
The romantic voice of an admirer at the other end of the phone made my heart flutter. Some conversations spanned time linking the closing of one day to the rising of the sun. Three little words transported me to springtime and apple blossoms. "You're my sweetie!"
Holding hands became an art form and I would love to sign up for an art appreciation refresher course. There were many ways to hold hands. Beginners advanced to firm holding with fingers intertwined. The Cadillac of hand holding involved caressing of the hand.
I must not neglect to mention the taste test. Kisses came in many flavor varieties. Many left behind a refreshing taste of minty mouthwash or Lavoris cinnamon. I'm not knocking Listerine or Dr Tichner's, but that antiseptic shocked the taste buds.
I routinely judged chewing gum. Do you remember that juicy kiss when a date chewed Juicy Fruit gum, sugar rush after Double Bubble bubblegum, Black Jack licorice, Chiclets mint, or zesty Dentyne chewed as a precaution against halitosis? Most people are loyal to a brand of chewing gum. I tagged each with their distinctive taste sensation.
Popcorn won first place in my kiss taste test; each bag or bowl led me closer to the aisle. My young man placed popcorn at the top of his snack favorites. Our dates often included matinée viewings in dimly lit movie theaters or rendezvous at drive-ins.
He first detoured to the concession stand to buy popcorn and soda. Each tender kiss tasted like melted butter with a generous topping of salt. I guess it became addictive; I could not get enough!
We're old folks now; we don't get out much anymore. He lingers over popcorn servings from large salad bowls, relaxing in front of the television. One eye is on the TV screen, the other on his popcorn target.
The western hero wins in the chase scene, and my hero munches on a handful of microwave delight. The sun sets in the west; we'll meet at the pass for popcorn goodnight kisses. Popcorn, till death do us part
With God all things are possible! Devotionals are my first love in writing! Published articles in Mature Living Magazine, Secret Place, Daily Devotionals for the Deaf. Available now in book store: FORGET-ME-NOT DAILY DEVOTIONAL http:/ebooks.faithwriters.com/ebook-details.php?id=520
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Guys might not realize the intensity of pleasure they provided. First, many were easy on the eyes. A fresh haircut implied he looked forward to our date as much as I did. His selection of a colorful shirt and Wranglers, or dark suit, shirt and tie left a big impression on me. One steady date and I wore matching madras plaid shirts, guess that dates me in my saga.
I snuggled up close to get a better position for aromatherapy. Long before it became trendy or big business a splash of Old Spice, Aqua Velva, English Leather, Canoe or Brut helped me to sit back and relax. The time spent with my head on his shoulder came with repeated deep whiffs of manly fragrance.
The romantic voice of an admirer at the other end of the phone made my heart flutter. Some conversations spanned time linking the closing of one day to the rising of the sun. Three little words transported me to springtime and apple blossoms. "You're my sweetie!"
Holding hands became an art form and I would love to sign up for an art appreciation refresher course. There were many ways to hold hands. Beginners advanced to firm holding with fingers intertwined. The Cadillac of hand holding involved caressing of the hand.
I must not neglect to mention the taste test. Kisses came in many flavor varieties. Many left behind a refreshing taste of minty mouthwash or Lavoris cinnamon. I'm not knocking Listerine or Dr Tichner's, but that antiseptic shocked the taste buds.
I routinely judged chewing gum. Do you remember that juicy kiss when a date chewed Juicy Fruit gum, sugar rush after Double Bubble bubblegum, Black Jack licorice, Chiclets mint, or zesty Dentyne chewed as a precaution against halitosis? Most people are loyal to a brand of chewing gum. I tagged each with their distinctive taste sensation.
Popcorn won first place in my kiss taste test; each bag or bowl led me closer to the aisle. My young man placed popcorn at the top of his snack favorites. Our dates often included matinée viewings in dimly lit movie theaters or rendezvous at drive-ins.
He first detoured to the concession stand to buy popcorn and soda. Each tender kiss tasted like melted butter with a generous topping of salt. I guess it became addictive; I could not get enough!
We're old folks now; we don't get out much anymore. He lingers over popcorn servings from large salad bowls, relaxing in front of the television. One eye is on the TV screen, the other on his popcorn target.
The western hero wins in the chase scene, and my hero munches on a handful of microwave delight. The sun sets in the west; we'll meet at the pass for popcorn goodnight kisses. Popcorn, till death do us part
With God all things are possible! Devotionals are my first love in writing! Published articles in Mature Living Magazine, Secret Place, Daily Devotionals for the Deaf. Available now in book store: FORGET-ME-NOT DAILY DEVOTIONAL http:/ebooks.faithwriters.com/ebook-details.php?id=520
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
The Homepedoo
When my son was three years old, he had a strange, but very real fear, of a mysterious creature called a hompedoo!
Now, this creature was very sneaky! He just loved to sneak around.
Sometimes he lived in the ward-robe; sometimes he sneaked in under the bed (as such creatures are apt to do!). Sometimes he made himself invisible and hid, so you couldn't see him at all - 'til he got visible again that is, ready to pop out from somewhere, and scare the pants (or P.J.'s) right off of you - especially if you were a little kid!
Well, my husband and I tried to find out about this 'hompedoo', from our small and more than slightly scared, son.
"How big is he?" We asked.
"As big as a elephant!" came the assured reply (never mind that an elephant couldn't fit into his room!)
"How tall is he?" We asked.
"As tall as a giraffe! But sometimes, small... like this..."
A small hand gestured vaguely, near the floor.
"O.K... so, what noise does a hompedoo make?" We asked.
"They growl like this - rraahhh! But mainly, they say nothing at all."
"Really - why's that?" We asked, more intrigued than ever.
Mikey thrust his little hands into his pockets.
"Because!" he said, quite simply, "Because. That's all!”
Well, my husband and I got to thinking. What about this hompedoo? How were we going to go about removing his unwanted presence from our small son's life? We thought and we thought... and then we came up with an idea. We would have to shift Mikey's focus, and get him to concentrate on something else. Well - what was bigger than a hompedoo? - Why, God, of course!
What we had to get Mikey to do was to rely less on himself, and more on God. Even if he was only three, if Mikey could just hand the problem over to the Lord, then things would improve dramatically, we were sure of that - after all, who better than God, to scare a hompedoo away?
Well, before too long, our efforts paid off and soon, don't y'know it - that hompedoo was gone! Not a hair, not a whisker remaining - kavoom!
"Whew! I'm glad I've got God on my side!" exclaimed little Mikey.
And you know, he was absolutely right! What Mikey was learning, was that all-important lesson of trust, and I figure we could learn from it, too. If you've got a problem:
1. Take your focus off of it. Try looking at it from a different angle.
2. Call in God! Trust Him! Pray; then pray some more - and look for the encouragement of others. Lord knows, we've all had hompedoos in our lives - hiding under our beds, in our ward-robes, in our bank accounts, even at work, sometimes!
On the other hand though, God bless all the hompedoos, 'cos in their own strange, confounded way, they're leading us back to God, for a bigger faith, a better faith - a stronger faith altogether! And before you know it, you're looking over your shoulder, and that hompedoo is gone, just like Mikey's! Well - 'Good riddance!' (as Mikey would say). And by the way, thank-you, Lord!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Now, this creature was very sneaky! He just loved to sneak around.
Sometimes he lived in the ward-robe; sometimes he sneaked in under the bed (as such creatures are apt to do!). Sometimes he made himself invisible and hid, so you couldn't see him at all - 'til he got visible again that is, ready to pop out from somewhere, and scare the pants (or P.J.'s) right off of you - especially if you were a little kid!
Well, my husband and I tried to find out about this 'hompedoo', from our small and more than slightly scared, son.
"How big is he?" We asked.
"As big as a elephant!" came the assured reply (never mind that an elephant couldn't fit into his room!)
"How tall is he?" We asked.
"As tall as a giraffe! But sometimes, small... like this..."
A small hand gestured vaguely, near the floor.
"O.K... so, what noise does a hompedoo make?" We asked.
"They growl like this - rraahhh! But mainly, they say nothing at all."
"Really - why's that?" We asked, more intrigued than ever.
Mikey thrust his little hands into his pockets.
"Because!" he said, quite simply, "Because. That's all!”
Well, my husband and I got to thinking. What about this hompedoo? How were we going to go about removing his unwanted presence from our small son's life? We thought and we thought... and then we came up with an idea. We would have to shift Mikey's focus, and get him to concentrate on something else. Well - what was bigger than a hompedoo? - Why, God, of course!
What we had to get Mikey to do was to rely less on himself, and more on God. Even if he was only three, if Mikey could just hand the problem over to the Lord, then things would improve dramatically, we were sure of that - after all, who better than God, to scare a hompedoo away?
Well, before too long, our efforts paid off and soon, don't y'know it - that hompedoo was gone! Not a hair, not a whisker remaining - kavoom!
"Whew! I'm glad I've got God on my side!" exclaimed little Mikey.
And you know, he was absolutely right! What Mikey was learning, was that all-important lesson of trust, and I figure we could learn from it, too. If you've got a problem:
1. Take your focus off of it. Try looking at it from a different angle.
2. Call in God! Trust Him! Pray; then pray some more - and look for the encouragement of others. Lord knows, we've all had hompedoos in our lives - hiding under our beds, in our ward-robes, in our bank accounts, even at work, sometimes!
On the other hand though, God bless all the hompedoos, 'cos in their own strange, confounded way, they're leading us back to God, for a bigger faith, a better faith - a stronger faith altogether! And before you know it, you're looking over your shoulder, and that hompedoo is gone, just like Mikey's! Well - 'Good riddance!' (as Mikey would say). And by the way, thank-you, Lord!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Monday, November 1, 2010
Why We Love Them So!
It was the end of a long day, and I was just putting my little son to bed.
"O.K., Mikey time to say your prayers!" I gently reminded him.
Well, Mikey got down on his little knees, and put his hands together and looked very serious, as he quite often did when he said his prayers. Then off he started on his usual long and rambling list of very important childish things that he wanted to say to God.
I tip-toed out of the room to get something, and when I came back a minute or two later, little Mikey was just finishing up, saying:
"... and most of all, God, thank-you for Mrs Squid Heavens - cos she's the nicest teacher ever! I like Mrs Squid Heavens, God! A-men!"
Now, I couldn't help grinning at this last little note, appended as it was at the end of Mikey's prayer.
Mrs Squid Heavens? I thought - who was she?
"Mikey," I enquired, trying not to sound too much like I was prying, "Who is Mrs Squid Heavens?"
"Oh, she's my new teacher at pre-school," said Mikey, in a very serious little voice. "She's cool!"
"Are you sure that's her name?" I continued.
Mikey nodded his head vigorously.
"Yep!" he assured me.
I smiled - somehow I doubted that Mikey's information was quite right on this one.
"Well good-night, darling Mikey!" I said, giving my little guy a great, big hug and a kiss.
"G'night Mom!" returned a very sleepy little son.
Two days later, I walked Mikey to his pre-school class. I was greeted by a mature and very kindly lady, with a wonderful, bright smile.
"Why, hello Mikey!" she said, warmly.
"Hello!" returned my little man, smiling shyly.
"And you must be Mikey's mom," said this new teacher, reaching out to shake my hand.
"Yes, that's right, I am. I'm very pleased to meet you!" I replied.
But I couldn't help smiling.
There, on this new teacher's lapel, was a name tag. The letters were embossed in gold. They read:
'Mrs Gwyn Evyns'. Immediately, my brain made the connection - Squid Heavens! Now little Mikey's prayer made sense!
I looked into the kind, sparkling eyes of this new teachers face, and I thought to myself, when I get to know her a little better, I must tell Mrs Gwyn Evyns about Mikey's interpretation of her name! I felt sure, that like me, she would find it rather amusing!
Lord, I guess what I'm trying to say here, in my own long and rambling adult way is this: thank-you for our children! They surely are one of your greatest gifts! And it's times like the other night, when they're down on their little knees at bed-time, praying so earnestly for Squid Heavens (or whatever other variations on a theme children can come up with!)that they make us love them even more, if that's possible! Lord - protect our children; help us give them happy lives! And with your loving guidance, help us to be the best parents that we can be - and Lord? May all their teachers be as wonderful as Squid Heavens!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
"O.K., Mikey time to say your prayers!" I gently reminded him.
Well, Mikey got down on his little knees, and put his hands together and looked very serious, as he quite often did when he said his prayers. Then off he started on his usual long and rambling list of very important childish things that he wanted to say to God.
I tip-toed out of the room to get something, and when I came back a minute or two later, little Mikey was just finishing up, saying:
"... and most of all, God, thank-you for Mrs Squid Heavens - cos she's the nicest teacher ever! I like Mrs Squid Heavens, God! A-men!"
Now, I couldn't help grinning at this last little note, appended as it was at the end of Mikey's prayer.
Mrs Squid Heavens? I thought - who was she?
"Mikey," I enquired, trying not to sound too much like I was prying, "Who is Mrs Squid Heavens?"
"Oh, she's my new teacher at pre-school," said Mikey, in a very serious little voice. "She's cool!"
"Are you sure that's her name?" I continued.
Mikey nodded his head vigorously.
"Yep!" he assured me.
I smiled - somehow I doubted that Mikey's information was quite right on this one.
"Well good-night, darling Mikey!" I said, giving my little guy a great, big hug and a kiss.
"G'night Mom!" returned a very sleepy little son.
Two days later, I walked Mikey to his pre-school class. I was greeted by a mature and very kindly lady, with a wonderful, bright smile.
"Why, hello Mikey!" she said, warmly.
"Hello!" returned my little man, smiling shyly.
"And you must be Mikey's mom," said this new teacher, reaching out to shake my hand.
"Yes, that's right, I am. I'm very pleased to meet you!" I replied.
But I couldn't help smiling.
There, on this new teacher's lapel, was a name tag. The letters were embossed in gold. They read:
'Mrs Gwyn Evyns'. Immediately, my brain made the connection - Squid Heavens! Now little Mikey's prayer made sense!
I looked into the kind, sparkling eyes of this new teachers face, and I thought to myself, when I get to know her a little better, I must tell Mrs Gwyn Evyns about Mikey's interpretation of her name! I felt sure, that like me, she would find it rather amusing!
Lord, I guess what I'm trying to say here, in my own long and rambling adult way is this: thank-you for our children! They surely are one of your greatest gifts! And it's times like the other night, when they're down on their little knees at bed-time, praying so earnestly for Squid Heavens (or whatever other variations on a theme children can come up with!)that they make us love them even more, if that's possible! Lord - protect our children; help us give them happy lives! And with your loving guidance, help us to be the best parents that we can be - and Lord? May all their teachers be as wonderful as Squid Heavens!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Friday, October 29, 2010
What Is The Spriit
Our Spirit; A Third Of Our Makeup
1 Thessalonians 5:23 And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Spirit, Soul, Body
The Role of Our Spirit
Our spirit and our bodies have predetermined destinations when we leave this earth:
Ecclesiastes 12:7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
Our spirit is our life force and when it is gone we no longer hold residence on this earth.
Luke 8:53 ,54 ,55 And they laughed him to scorn, knowing that she was dead. And he put them all out, and took her by the hand, and called, saying, Maid, arise. And her spirit came again, and she arose straightway: and he commanded to give her meat.
Our Spirit - The Gift of Life
The "Breath of Life"
Taken from Faithreaders
1 Thessalonians 5:23 And the very God of peace sanctify you wholly; and I pray God your whole spirit and soul and body be preserved blameless unto the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ.
Spirit, Soul, Body
The Role of Our Spirit
Our spirit and our bodies have predetermined destinations when we leave this earth:
Ecclesiastes 12:7 Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall return unto God who gave it.
Our spirit is our life force and when it is gone we no longer hold residence on this earth.
Luke 8:53 ,54 ,55 And they laughed him to scorn, knowing that she was dead. And he put them all out, and took her by the hand, and called, saying, Maid, arise. And her spirit came again, and she arose straightway: and he commanded to give her meat.
Our Spirit - The Gift of Life
The "Breath of Life"
Taken from Faithreaders
The Homepedoo
When my son was three years old, he had a strange, but very real fear, of a mysterious creature called a hompedoo!
Now, this creature was very sneaky! He just loved to sneak around.
Sometimes he lived in the ward-robe; sometimes he sneaked in under the bed (as such creatures are apt to do!). Sometimes he made himself invisible and hid, so you couldn't see him at all - 'til he got visible again that is, ready to pop out from somewhere, and scare the pants (or P.J.'s) right off of you - especially if you were a little kid!
Well, my husband and I tried to find out about this 'hompedoo', from our small and more than slightly scared, son.
"How big is he?" We asked.
"As big as a elephant!" came the assured reply (never mind that an elephant couldn't fit into his room!)
"How tall is he?" We asked.
"As tall as a giraffe! But sometimes, small... like this..."
A small hand gestured vaguely, near the floor.
"O.K... so, what noise does a hompedoo make?" We asked.
"They growl like this - rraahhh! But mainly, they say nothing at all."
"Really - why's that?" We asked, more intrigued than ever.
Mikey thrust his little hands into his pockets.
"Because!" he said, quite simply, "Because. That's all!”
Well, my husband and I got to thinking. What about this hompedoo? How were we going to go about removing his unwanted presence from our small son's life? We thought and we thought... and then we came up with an idea. We would have to shift Mikey's focus, and get him to concentrate on something else. Well - what was bigger than a hompedoo? - Why, God, of course!
What we had to get Mikey to do was to rely less on himself, and more on God. Even if he was only three, if Mikey could just hand the problem over to the Lord, then things would improve dramatically, we were sure of that - after all, who better than God, to scare a hompedoo away?
Well, before too long, our efforts paid off and soon, don't y'know it - that hompedoo was gone! Not a hair, not a whisker remaining - kavoom!
"Whew! I'm glad I've got God on my side!" exclaimed little Mikey.
And you know, he was absolutely right! What Mikey was learning, was that all-important lesson of trust, and I figure we could learn from it, too. If you've got a problem:
1. Take your focus off of it. Try looking at it from a different angle.
2. Call in God! Trust Him! Pray; then pray some more - and look for the encouragement of others. Lord knows, we've all had hompedoos in our lives - hiding under our beds, in our ward-robes, in our bank accounts, even at work, sometimes!
On the other hand though, God bless all the hompedoos, 'cos in their own strange, confounded way, they're leading us back to God, for a bigger faith, a better faith - a stronger faith altogether! And before you know it, you're looking over your shoulder, and that hompedoo is gone, just like Mikey's! Well - 'Good riddance!' (as Mikey would say). And by the way, thank-you, Lord!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Now, this creature was very sneaky! He just loved to sneak around.
Sometimes he lived in the ward-robe; sometimes he sneaked in under the bed (as such creatures are apt to do!). Sometimes he made himself invisible and hid, so you couldn't see him at all - 'til he got visible again that is, ready to pop out from somewhere, and scare the pants (or P.J.'s) right off of you - especially if you were a little kid!
Well, my husband and I tried to find out about this 'hompedoo', from our small and more than slightly scared, son.
"How big is he?" We asked.
"As big as a elephant!" came the assured reply (never mind that an elephant couldn't fit into his room!)
"How tall is he?" We asked.
"As tall as a giraffe! But sometimes, small... like this..."
A small hand gestured vaguely, near the floor.
"O.K... so, what noise does a hompedoo make?" We asked.
"They growl like this - rraahhh! But mainly, they say nothing at all."
"Really - why's that?" We asked, more intrigued than ever.
Mikey thrust his little hands into his pockets.
"Because!" he said, quite simply, "Because. That's all!”
Well, my husband and I got to thinking. What about this hompedoo? How were we going to go about removing his unwanted presence from our small son's life? We thought and we thought... and then we came up with an idea. We would have to shift Mikey's focus, and get him to concentrate on something else. Well - what was bigger than a hompedoo? - Why, God, of course!
What we had to get Mikey to do was to rely less on himself, and more on God. Even if he was only three, if Mikey could just hand the problem over to the Lord, then things would improve dramatically, we were sure of that - after all, who better than God, to scare a hompedoo away?
Well, before too long, our efforts paid off and soon, don't y'know it - that hompedoo was gone! Not a hair, not a whisker remaining - kavoom!
"Whew! I'm glad I've got God on my side!" exclaimed little Mikey.
And you know, he was absolutely right! What Mikey was learning, was that all-important lesson of trust, and I figure we could learn from it, too. If you've got a problem:
1. Take your focus off of it. Try looking at it from a different angle.
2. Call in God! Trust Him! Pray; then pray some more - and look for the encouragement of others. Lord knows, we've all had hompedoos in our lives - hiding under our beds, in our ward-robes, in our bank accounts, even at work, sometimes!
On the other hand though, God bless all the hompedoos, 'cos in their own strange, confounded way, they're leading us back to God, for a bigger faith, a better faith - a stronger faith altogether! And before you know it, you're looking over your shoulder, and that hompedoo is gone, just like Mikey's! Well - 'Good riddance!' (as Mikey would say). And by the way, thank-you, Lord!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Why We Love Them So
It was the end of a long day, and I was just putting my little son to bed.
"O.K., Mikey time to say your prayers!" I gently reminded him.
Well, Mikey got down on his little knees, and put his hands together and looked very serious, as he quite often did when he said his prayers. Then off he started on his usual long and rambling list of very important childish things that he wanted to say to God.
I tip-toed out of the room to get something, and when I came back a minute or two later, little Mikey was just finishing up, saying:
"... and most of all, God, thank-you for Mrs Squid Heavens - cos she's the nicest teacher ever! I like Mrs Squid Heavens, God! A-men!"
Now, I couldn't help grinning at this last little note, appended as it was at the end of Mikey's prayer.
Mrs Squid Heavens? I thought - who was she?
"Mikey," I enquired, trying not to sound too much like I was prying, "Who is Mrs Squid Heavens?"
"Oh, she's my new teacher at pre-school," said Mikey, in a very serious little voice. "She's cool!"
"Are you sure that's her name?" I continued.
Mikey nodded his head vigorously.
"Yep!" he assured me.
I smiled - somehow I doubted that Mikey's information was quite right on this one.
"Well good-night, darling Mikey!" I said, giving my little guy a great, big hug and a kiss.
"G'night Mom!" returned a very sleepy little son.
Two days later, I walked Mikey to his pre-school class. I was greeted by a mature and very kindly lady, with a wonderful, bright smile.
"Why, hello Mikey!" she said, warmly.
"Hello!" returned my little man, smiling shyly.
"And you must be Mikey's mom," said this new teacher, reaching out to shake my hand.
"Yes, that's right, I am. I'm very pleased to meet you!" I replied.
But I couldn't help smiling.
There, on this new teacher's lapel, was a name tag. The letters were embossed in gold. They read:
'Mrs Gwyn Evyns'. Immediately, my brain made the connection - Squid Heavens! Now little Mikey's prayer made sense!
I looked into the kind, sparkling eyes of this new teachers face, and I thought to myself, when I get to know her a little better, I must tell Mrs Gwyn Evyns about Mikey's interpretation of her name! I felt sure, that like me, she would find it rather amusing!
Lord, I guess what I'm trying to say here, in my own long and rambling adult way is this: thank-you for our children! They surely are one of your greatest gifts! And it's times like the other night, when they're down on their little knees at bed-time, praying so earnestly for Squid Heavens (or whatever other variations on a theme children can come up with!)that they make us love them even more, if that's possible! Lord - protect our children; help us give them happy lives! And with your loving guidance, help us to be the best parents that we can be - and Lord? May all their teachers be as wonderful as Squid Heavens!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
"O.K., Mikey time to say your prayers!" I gently reminded him.
Well, Mikey got down on his little knees, and put his hands together and looked very serious, as he quite often did when he said his prayers. Then off he started on his usual long and rambling list of very important childish things that he wanted to say to God.
I tip-toed out of the room to get something, and when I came back a minute or two later, little Mikey was just finishing up, saying:
"... and most of all, God, thank-you for Mrs Squid Heavens - cos she's the nicest teacher ever! I like Mrs Squid Heavens, God! A-men!"
Now, I couldn't help grinning at this last little note, appended as it was at the end of Mikey's prayer.
Mrs Squid Heavens? I thought - who was she?
"Mikey," I enquired, trying not to sound too much like I was prying, "Who is Mrs Squid Heavens?"
"Oh, she's my new teacher at pre-school," said Mikey, in a very serious little voice. "She's cool!"
"Are you sure that's her name?" I continued.
Mikey nodded his head vigorously.
"Yep!" he assured me.
I smiled - somehow I doubted that Mikey's information was quite right on this one.
"Well good-night, darling Mikey!" I said, giving my little guy a great, big hug and a kiss.
"G'night Mom!" returned a very sleepy little son.
Two days later, I walked Mikey to his pre-school class. I was greeted by a mature and very kindly lady, with a wonderful, bright smile.
"Why, hello Mikey!" she said, warmly.
"Hello!" returned my little man, smiling shyly.
"And you must be Mikey's mom," said this new teacher, reaching out to shake my hand.
"Yes, that's right, I am. I'm very pleased to meet you!" I replied.
But I couldn't help smiling.
There, on this new teacher's lapel, was a name tag. The letters were embossed in gold. They read:
'Mrs Gwyn Evyns'. Immediately, my brain made the connection - Squid Heavens! Now little Mikey's prayer made sense!
I looked into the kind, sparkling eyes of this new teachers face, and I thought to myself, when I get to know her a little better, I must tell Mrs Gwyn Evyns about Mikey's interpretation of her name! I felt sure, that like me, she would find it rather amusing!
Lord, I guess what I'm trying to say here, in my own long and rambling adult way is this: thank-you for our children! They surely are one of your greatest gifts! And it's times like the other night, when they're down on their little knees at bed-time, praying so earnestly for Squid Heavens (or whatever other variations on a theme children can come up with!)that they make us love them even more, if that's possible! Lord - protect our children; help us give them happy lives! And with your loving guidance, help us to be the best parents that we can be - and Lord? May all their teachers be as wonderful as Squid Heavens!
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Monday, October 25, 2010
We Thank Thee, A Song, Sung By Jim Reeves
Alex Martin made his way early in the morning, through the newly laid bitumen road to the colony's bus stop which is a good five minute walk from his home. The Heavy Electrical residential colony which is twenty kilometers away from Hyderabad was built for the families of engineers and technicians working in the Heavy Electrical factory, one the many prestigious units planned all over India with Czechoslovakian technology. Alex's two elder brothers, both Electrical engineers are employed in that factory and Alex, the youngest along with his parents stay in the spacious and luxurious residential house allotted to them.
Alex Martin, the youngest of the three brothers is a post graduate in Biochemistry, a trainee Production chemist in a bulk drug manufacturing factory situated on the outskirts of Hyderabad, which is about forty minutes from his residence. As he is working in the general shift, which is at seven in the morning, he has to catch the first bus which starts at six o' clock from the colony. The early morning walk, Alex felt in the beginning was a painful process, but within few days he started liking the cool breeze, the greenery, and identifying the birds by their songs found abundantly in the unpolluted atmosphere around the colony.
The colony has only few occupants and one of them is the corner house, nearer to the bus stop with a green gate and a well maintained garden. Alex usually waits for the bus, standing underneath the dense neem tree which is right opposite the corner house.
He noticed that if he arrives just before five thirty five he could hear the beautiful songs sung by Jim Reeves played on a cassette recorder from the kitchen of the corner house. And what he cannot understand is that the last song, 'We thank Thee' is abruptly switched off exactly at five fifty.
Alex is in the bulk drug industry which is the fastest growing industry in India and its products are exported to nearly all the countries around the world and as the best survive, the industry is forever improving their profit margins by cutting costs, either in the purchase of the raw material or in the manufacturing process. And to Alex's consternation he and his other seven colleagues have been asked to take a crash course in computers, as their factory is on the threshold of computerizing the entire manufacturing process.
As the one year full time computer course is a very expensive one, the management insisted that its employees sign a bond to work for two years in the same pay scales. Experienced production chemists are much in demand and Alex's seven colleagues have already resigned and joined a rival company leaving him in a dilemma of whether he has also to resign or continue in the same firm.
The management had given Alex one month time to decide and the deadline is on Monday the 3rd July 1989. Walking on that day, from his house to the bus stop Alex was still undecided on whether to join the new company with a five fold salary increase or get trained and work for two more years with no assurance of salary hike.
The morning was chilly and Alex was glad that he wore his windcheater and thrusts his hands deep in its pockets and was deep in his thoughts when he heard above the singing of the birds, the beautiful rich voice of Jim Reeves from the corner house. As soon as he reached the neem tree the song was switched off abruptly, disappointing him. Standing under the neem tree Alex looked at his watch and seeing that it was five fifty, had the overwhelming desire to pray. Bowing his head he prayed. A silent prayer for the wonderful day and asking God's help in taking the right decision and the strength to face the unknown and divine help for the future.
After saying his prayers he opened his eyes and felt an overwhelming joy and peace and felt that God had answered his prayers. Going to his factory he signed the bond and joined the computer course.
It was on 15th August 1989, India's Independence Day and a holiday and as he was walking back to his home, came across that corner house where he used to hear the Jim Reeves songs. Stopping, he pressed the bell and was greeted by an elderly gentleman with a ready smile who immediately invited him as soon as Alex introduced himself and the purpose of his visit.
"My name is George. My wife Judy is a Jim Reeves fan," explained the elderly man, "And it is she who daily listens to it. I'll call her."
After a minute or so both of them appeared. She is in her fifties, plump, and with that ready smile which appealed to Alex.
"Alex is your Jim Reeves fan."
Alex laughed and said, "Jim Reeves is loved all over the world. One thing which I wanted to ask for a long time is why you play the same old Jim Reeves songs every day at five thirty five and switch it off at exactly five fifty and that too in the middle of one of the best songs?"
"I never noticed that," said the elderly man as he looked towards his wife for an answer.
"Your songs," continued Alex, "played so early in the morning is very inspiring. The mellowed rich voice, and the wonderful lyrics are really beautiful and particularly in the morning, with only the birds and the cool air for company. Wow, it was heavenly just listening to each and every word and I loved it every lyric of it."
She laughed and keeping her head bowed for some time, answered, "I play Jim Reeves and other singers daily through out the day. And as George has to report for work at seven he likes to have his breakfast by six fifteen every day. He loves a hearty breakfast of French Omelet, boiled eggs, sausages and oats."
Alex listened with a puzzled look and nodded silently. Seeing that Judy was quiet, he asked, "But what has Jim Reeves to do with George's breakfast?"
Judy continued, "George likes to have his eggs hard boiled, and Jim Reeves does that. As soon as I keep the eggs on the stove I switch on the Jim Reeves cassette and switch it off at the start of 'We thank Thee', and the eggs are boiled as per George's liking."
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Alex Martin, the youngest of the three brothers is a post graduate in Biochemistry, a trainee Production chemist in a bulk drug manufacturing factory situated on the outskirts of Hyderabad, which is about forty minutes from his residence. As he is working in the general shift, which is at seven in the morning, he has to catch the first bus which starts at six o' clock from the colony. The early morning walk, Alex felt in the beginning was a painful process, but within few days he started liking the cool breeze, the greenery, and identifying the birds by their songs found abundantly in the unpolluted atmosphere around the colony.
The colony has only few occupants and one of them is the corner house, nearer to the bus stop with a green gate and a well maintained garden. Alex usually waits for the bus, standing underneath the dense neem tree which is right opposite the corner house.
He noticed that if he arrives just before five thirty five he could hear the beautiful songs sung by Jim Reeves played on a cassette recorder from the kitchen of the corner house. And what he cannot understand is that the last song, 'We thank Thee' is abruptly switched off exactly at five fifty.
Alex is in the bulk drug industry which is the fastest growing industry in India and its products are exported to nearly all the countries around the world and as the best survive, the industry is forever improving their profit margins by cutting costs, either in the purchase of the raw material or in the manufacturing process. And to Alex's consternation he and his other seven colleagues have been asked to take a crash course in computers, as their factory is on the threshold of computerizing the entire manufacturing process.
As the one year full time computer course is a very expensive one, the management insisted that its employees sign a bond to work for two years in the same pay scales. Experienced production chemists are much in demand and Alex's seven colleagues have already resigned and joined a rival company leaving him in a dilemma of whether he has also to resign or continue in the same firm.
The management had given Alex one month time to decide and the deadline is on Monday the 3rd July 1989. Walking on that day, from his house to the bus stop Alex was still undecided on whether to join the new company with a five fold salary increase or get trained and work for two more years with no assurance of salary hike.
The morning was chilly and Alex was glad that he wore his windcheater and thrusts his hands deep in its pockets and was deep in his thoughts when he heard above the singing of the birds, the beautiful rich voice of Jim Reeves from the corner house. As soon as he reached the neem tree the song was switched off abruptly, disappointing him. Standing under the neem tree Alex looked at his watch and seeing that it was five fifty, had the overwhelming desire to pray. Bowing his head he prayed. A silent prayer for the wonderful day and asking God's help in taking the right decision and the strength to face the unknown and divine help for the future.
After saying his prayers he opened his eyes and felt an overwhelming joy and peace and felt that God had answered his prayers. Going to his factory he signed the bond and joined the computer course.
It was on 15th August 1989, India's Independence Day and a holiday and as he was walking back to his home, came across that corner house where he used to hear the Jim Reeves songs. Stopping, he pressed the bell and was greeted by an elderly gentleman with a ready smile who immediately invited him as soon as Alex introduced himself and the purpose of his visit.
"My name is George. My wife Judy is a Jim Reeves fan," explained the elderly man, "And it is she who daily listens to it. I'll call her."
After a minute or so both of them appeared. She is in her fifties, plump, and with that ready smile which appealed to Alex.
"Alex is your Jim Reeves fan."
Alex laughed and said, "Jim Reeves is loved all over the world. One thing which I wanted to ask for a long time is why you play the same old Jim Reeves songs every day at five thirty five and switch it off at exactly five fifty and that too in the middle of one of the best songs?"
"I never noticed that," said the elderly man as he looked towards his wife for an answer.
"Your songs," continued Alex, "played so early in the morning is very inspiring. The mellowed rich voice, and the wonderful lyrics are really beautiful and particularly in the morning, with only the birds and the cool air for company. Wow, it was heavenly just listening to each and every word and I loved it every lyric of it."
She laughed and keeping her head bowed for some time, answered, "I play Jim Reeves and other singers daily through out the day. And as George has to report for work at seven he likes to have his breakfast by six fifteen every day. He loves a hearty breakfast of French Omelet, boiled eggs, sausages and oats."
Alex listened with a puzzled look and nodded silently. Seeing that Judy was quiet, he asked, "But what has Jim Reeves to do with George's breakfast?"
Judy continued, "George likes to have his eggs hard boiled, and Jim Reeves does that. As soon as I keep the eggs on the stove I switch on the Jim Reeves cassette and switch it off at the start of 'We thank Thee', and the eggs are boiled as per George's liking."
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Friday, October 22, 2010
A Recipe For Happiness
I remember as a child, visiting my Aunt Mabel by the sea. I don't know what was the more pleasurable - visiting Aunt Mabel, or visiting the sea, for I loved them both! Never was a grown-up so kindly and enthusiastic, so interested in the world, as my Aunt Mabel was. We'd sit on the porch, and she'd tell me stories of when she was a girl - she'd hoot with laughter when I tried to tell a joke. She'd watch me running along the beach, chasing the dancing edges of the waves. In the evenings, as the sea whispered it's secrets to the shells, Aunt Mabel would light a candle on the table outside, and she'd read me passages from the Bible. I'd close my eyes and lay back on the big, old couch and listen, as the stars lit up the sky... y'know, in our own way, over the years, Aunt Mabel and I made quite a study of that Great Book! Last thing at night, Aunt Mabel would take my hands, and draw me close and kiss me. Then she'd send me off to bed, with a blessing. One of my favorite of Aunt Mabel's blessings was this one:
Happiness is
taking
Whatever God gives you to work with
And making a gift of it to others
Letting God's light shine through you
Just a little every day...
That's the surest recipe to chase the blues away!
Why did this little verse mean so much to me?
Well... Aunt Mabel was confined to a wheel-chair; she'd been in that wheel-chair, ever since she was 10 years old when she'd had an accident and fallen from a horse. I guess Aunt Mabel knew a lot about disappointment... but if she did, she didn't show it! I reckon Aunt Mabel had travelled more miles for God in that wheel-chair, than most people do on two good legs. God calls us to take note of our lives, and serve Him with joy and praise - at least, that's what Aunt Mabel used to say. Now, if she could do it from a wheel-chair - how much more able are most of us! No more excuses! We need to take whatever gifts God gives us, and shine!
"Are you called to help others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then God will be given glory in everything through Jesus Christ."
1 Peter 4:11
2010 Laura Swindon-Ross. All rights reserved
This work is copyright, all rights reserved.
I'm a teacher and Christian writer, currently studying for a Ph.D.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Happiness is
taking
Whatever God gives you to work with
And making a gift of it to others
Letting God's light shine through you
Just a little every day...
That's the surest recipe to chase the blues away!
Why did this little verse mean so much to me?
Well... Aunt Mabel was confined to a wheel-chair; she'd been in that wheel-chair, ever since she was 10 years old when she'd had an accident and fallen from a horse. I guess Aunt Mabel knew a lot about disappointment... but if she did, she didn't show it! I reckon Aunt Mabel had travelled more miles for God in that wheel-chair, than most people do on two good legs. God calls us to take note of our lives, and serve Him with joy and praise - at least, that's what Aunt Mabel used to say. Now, if she could do it from a wheel-chair - how much more able are most of us! No more excuses! We need to take whatever gifts God gives us, and shine!
"Are you called to help others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then God will be given glory in everything through Jesus Christ."
1 Peter 4:11
2010 Laura Swindon-Ross. All rights reserved
This work is copyright, all rights reserved.
I'm a teacher and Christian writer, currently studying for a Ph.D.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Princess Sarah
Princess Sarah is the fairy-tale of a little girl who leaves India to go and study in England. Her mother died when she was still a baby. Her dad is a millionaire; he bought a diamond mine with a friend in India and has to go back to India to work on that mine with his friend. Unfortunately, he catches a tropical disease and dies shortly after.
His daughter, Sarah, studies at this very expensive school. She wears some of the most expensive dresses and carries around her doll called "Emily", which she treats as her own child. She makes friends in the school with the most sensitive children, a girl of 4 years old, whose mother died a while ago. Sarah decides to be a mum to the 4 year old girl who had been quite distressed by the death of her mum. Sarah also becomes friend to another girl whose father doesn't think she is quite intelligent, so this girl lacks quite a lot of confidence in her. Sarah also becomes friend with the maid of the college called Becky.
Unfortunately, Sarah is hated by Lavinia, one of the most popular girls in the college. Lavinia keeps bossing around the most sensitive classmates, which Sarah has taken under her protection. However, Lavinia takes advantage of this situation to send bad remarks to Sarah to show her hatred towards her. As a matter of fact, Miss Minchin had decided to put Sarah in charge of the class instead of Lavinia.
The headmistress, Miss Minchin manages the college with her sister, Miss Amelia. This headmistress takes so much interest in Sarah because her father had made quite a large donation to the college. Sarah is an intelligent young girl, who doesn't have any difficulties to excel in all the subjects, especially as she speaks French perfectly. She even receives the favour of the Prefect who comes and visits the college yearly and gives substantive donations for his management. Sarah impresses the crowd in the street by her beauty and her good manners. The Prefect wants also Sarah to give grammar lessons to the younger children which is agreed by Miss Minchin.
One day, the headmistress decides to organise an expensive birthday party for Sarah and to send the bill to the notaire of Sarah dad, who manages his affairs in England.
Unfortunately, the day of her birthday, Sarah learns that her dad will no longer be able to support her because he has died of a tropical disease in India. As a result, the headmistress of the college and the notaire are furious against Sarah and her deceased dad. As a result, Sarah is left with debts toward the college and, the notaire takes all Sarah belongings to pay her dad debts.
However, the headmistress decides to keep Sarah in the college as a maid. The notaire of her dad had adviced Miss Minchin to keep Sarah to repay herself from what Sarah dad owed to the college and for the good reputation of the school institution.
Being now an orphan, Sarah has to work very hard with the other maid Becky. She gets up very early in the morning to buy food, to scrub and cook. She is now sleeping in a mansard where it is very cold. She is very badly treated by the headmistress who keeps shouting at her and doesn't supply her meals if she is too slow. On numerous occasions, she sends her in the rain to buy groceries when most of the markets are closed. Sarah has a very hard life but she keeps seeing her ex-classmates which she keeps taking under her protection. Unfortunately, Lavinia is very jealous of Sarah because Sarah is very strong and doesn't flinch to stand to her responsibilities and, doesn't lose her courage. As a result, Lavinia creates all sort of situations to humiliate Sarah and accuses her wrongly to Miss Minchin, to get Sarah punished.
Sarah is rewarded by the friends that she has taken under her protection, they help her to be courageous and hope for better days. One day, Sarah is starving and found some money in the street, she believes that somebody lost it and goes to the priest to give him, in order for him to give back the money to the person that lost it. The priest says to Sarah that God wanted her to find the money and she should use it to buy something to eat. As a result, Sarah goes to the bakery to buy five small breads. As she goes out of the bakery, she found a little girl, begging for food so she gives four loaves of bread to the little girl and she takes one loaf of bread for herself to share with the other maid, Becky, from the college.
The owner of the bakery sees through the window what Sarah did with the bread, her amazing kindness for the little girl. So the owner of the bakery decides to give decent clothes to the little girl and a job in the bakery. The owner of the shop prays that God helps Sarah in due times. Sarah is also a believer of God, she goes to the church sometimes to pray for herself.
When Sarah was rich, she had a pony and a driver to take her for a walk, when she became an orphan, the headmistress of the college had to fire her driver, called Peter. As Sarah goes to buy groceries, she meets Peter who sells in the market and becomes to him a very good friend; he helps her to do her shopping and carries it for her to the college.
In the meantime, the college has a new neighbour who lives in the house just next to it. This neighbour is a rich man from India, who is very sick, he caught a tropical disease in India but the servant of this man becomes quite friend with Sarah, both admire the courage of Sarah. One day, Sarah becomes quite sick as a result of having gone through the rain to do some food shopping for the college.
Her friends, Peter and Becky go and pray in the church for Sarah recovery and they go to the aunt of one of the girls; Sarah had taken under her protection, to get her some medicine for her sickness. The college neighbour sends his servants to go into Sarah room at night to make her a good fire and a good meal to recover her strength. As a result of all those nice gestures, Sarah recovers rapidly from her sickness.
Sarah neighbour keeps supplying good meals to Sarah and Becky anonymously at night but soon, the headmistress finds out about the meals. As a result, Sarah and Becky get punished and, Sarah is sent to sleep in the stable where her pony used to stay before being taken away. Sarah is devastated but she keeps believing in God and found strength by looking at the picture of her deceased parents.
Shortly after, Lavinia celebrates her birthday and wants Sarah to give her the doll "Emily" that her dad had given her before he left for India. Seeing through her cruelty, Sarah friends stand up to Lavinia and urge her to give the doll back to Sarah, which is the only comfort through all the hardships that Sarah had been enduring.
We learn that the college neighbour which is a rich man had been working with Sarah dad in India, this man was Sarah dad childhood friend, he assisted to his death and, he was also owning the mine of diamonds and, now he is searching for Sarah to make her inherit his fortune, not having any family of his own, as he feels he owes to Sarah dad for having influenced him to buy the mine of diamonds who cost him his life.
He doesn't know that the name of the girl he has been helping is the girl he has been looking for. He decides to buy some expensive clothes for Sarah anonymously and send them as a gift to the college.
In the meantime, Lavinia and her friends put the fire at the stable by mistake, wanting to scare Sarah little 4 years old friend, the day of Halloween, chasing her while carrying candles in huge pumpkins; one of the candle falls on the floor of the stable and set fire to it.
Fortunately, Sarah wasn't sleeping in the stable at this time and she manages to save her doll and the photograph of her beloved parents. However, Lavinia accuses Sarah of having set the fire in the stable. The headmistress blames Sarah wrongly despite her friends claiming her innocence; Sarah decides to leave the college for having been treated very badly, worse than a slave.
Sarah found refuge with Peter and his family. She decides to take on the job of selling matches in the street in the harsh cold and snow of winter. Shortly after, Peter brings her back to his home as the sister of the headmistress, Miss Amelia, came to collect her to bring her back to the college to give her the anonymous gift that the college neighbour had sent Sarah.
The headmistress insists on Sarah to try on the clothes that suit her perfectly. So Miss Minchin realises that Sarah has a secret benefactor and, decides for Sarah to resume the college classes and give up her maid status.
In the afternoon, the little monkey of the college neighbour escapes in Sarah mansard. She decides to bring the monkey to the college neighbour without being seen. As it happens, the neighbour asks Sarah her name and found out that she is the daughter of his beloved deceased friend. Having been looking everywhere for her to inherit his fortune.
As a result of finding Sarah, her benefactor decides to keep Sarah in his house and supply her with beautiful dresses, she is called "the princess diamonds".
Shortly after, the headmistress who learnt those amazing news, get quite a shock by realising that she had treated Sarah quite badly, she even wants to give up her position as a headmistress, realising that she had a bad attitude towards Sarah because she became poor and felt threatened by Sarah strength through her dilemma. Having a kind and forgiving heart, free from grudges, Sarah decides to make a huge donation to the college and to carry on studying there with her friends.
As a result, the classmates that hated Sarah decide to become friends with her (including Lavinia). Everything that Sarah had lost as a result of her poverty, her pony and her parrot, are restored to Sarah in the end. Sarah decides to reward the owner of the bakery for having given her the loaves of bread when she was hungry; she wants to pay for every loaf of bread that the owner of the bakery will give to the homeless children every day.
Sarah also decides to engage Becky as a lady of company. As a matter of fact, Becky had stood up for Sarah all the times Sarah was wrongly accused because of the bad jokes of Lavinia, Becky even let herself punished for smuggling food at night for Sarah who was starving.
In conclusion, I can see the power of God in this amazing story of "Princess Sarah", who has been adapted as a cartoon series. I used to watch this cartoon when I was a little girl and forgot most of it as time went on. This story has really touched my heart. Having watched it recently, I really felt for that little girl who had to stay brave despite her tough hardships of life. Her kindness, positivity and sensitivity to the needs of others despite the unfair things going on all around her, she never displayed resentment or anger at being treated unjustly. However, she cried quite a lot in her closet and decided to leave the college when it was too much for her to bear, but, everybody does it. We are human beings. There is so much we can endure.
We can also remember the story of Job, a wealthy man who lost his health and wealth in one day. Shortly after, God restored Job to his previous status of wealth, giving him even more for all the hardships that he had to endure.
James 5:11
Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.
We can see that God is so much at work in Sarah life; he gives her strength, help and faith through all the people she had helped kindly along the way. Those people risk their positions for helping Sarah out. But, she rewards them all in the end. It is good to be kind to people because we never know when God will use them to help us. Through all the hardships of Sarah, we can see that God is always there; Sarah learns humility and gets rewarded by having more than she ever imagined.
In conclusion, we shouldn't lose heart through our troubles; the light is still shining at the end of the tunnel. God is waiting to reward us for our perseverance and faith in him. God just wants us to trust in Him and He will see us through in due times. God just wants to use those hardships to rely on him and to humble us. He is the only one that can help us.
Colossians 1:11
Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness;
1 Thessalonians 1:3
Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father;
Hebrews 10:36
For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.
God bless you all.
Sana Edoja
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
His daughter, Sarah, studies at this very expensive school. She wears some of the most expensive dresses and carries around her doll called "Emily", which she treats as her own child. She makes friends in the school with the most sensitive children, a girl of 4 years old, whose mother died a while ago. Sarah decides to be a mum to the 4 year old girl who had been quite distressed by the death of her mum. Sarah also becomes friend to another girl whose father doesn't think she is quite intelligent, so this girl lacks quite a lot of confidence in her. Sarah also becomes friend with the maid of the college called Becky.
Unfortunately, Sarah is hated by Lavinia, one of the most popular girls in the college. Lavinia keeps bossing around the most sensitive classmates, which Sarah has taken under her protection. However, Lavinia takes advantage of this situation to send bad remarks to Sarah to show her hatred towards her. As a matter of fact, Miss Minchin had decided to put Sarah in charge of the class instead of Lavinia.
The headmistress, Miss Minchin manages the college with her sister, Miss Amelia. This headmistress takes so much interest in Sarah because her father had made quite a large donation to the college. Sarah is an intelligent young girl, who doesn't have any difficulties to excel in all the subjects, especially as she speaks French perfectly. She even receives the favour of the Prefect who comes and visits the college yearly and gives substantive donations for his management. Sarah impresses the crowd in the street by her beauty and her good manners. The Prefect wants also Sarah to give grammar lessons to the younger children which is agreed by Miss Minchin.
One day, the headmistress decides to organise an expensive birthday party for Sarah and to send the bill to the notaire of Sarah dad, who manages his affairs in England.
Unfortunately, the day of her birthday, Sarah learns that her dad will no longer be able to support her because he has died of a tropical disease in India. As a result, the headmistress of the college and the notaire are furious against Sarah and her deceased dad. As a result, Sarah is left with debts toward the college and, the notaire takes all Sarah belongings to pay her dad debts.
However, the headmistress decides to keep Sarah in the college as a maid. The notaire of her dad had adviced Miss Minchin to keep Sarah to repay herself from what Sarah dad owed to the college and for the good reputation of the school institution.
Being now an orphan, Sarah has to work very hard with the other maid Becky. She gets up very early in the morning to buy food, to scrub and cook. She is now sleeping in a mansard where it is very cold. She is very badly treated by the headmistress who keeps shouting at her and doesn't supply her meals if she is too slow. On numerous occasions, she sends her in the rain to buy groceries when most of the markets are closed. Sarah has a very hard life but she keeps seeing her ex-classmates which she keeps taking under her protection. Unfortunately, Lavinia is very jealous of Sarah because Sarah is very strong and doesn't flinch to stand to her responsibilities and, doesn't lose her courage. As a result, Lavinia creates all sort of situations to humiliate Sarah and accuses her wrongly to Miss Minchin, to get Sarah punished.
Sarah is rewarded by the friends that she has taken under her protection, they help her to be courageous and hope for better days. One day, Sarah is starving and found some money in the street, she believes that somebody lost it and goes to the priest to give him, in order for him to give back the money to the person that lost it. The priest says to Sarah that God wanted her to find the money and she should use it to buy something to eat. As a result, Sarah goes to the bakery to buy five small breads. As she goes out of the bakery, she found a little girl, begging for food so she gives four loaves of bread to the little girl and she takes one loaf of bread for herself to share with the other maid, Becky, from the college.
The owner of the bakery sees through the window what Sarah did with the bread, her amazing kindness for the little girl. So the owner of the bakery decides to give decent clothes to the little girl and a job in the bakery. The owner of the shop prays that God helps Sarah in due times. Sarah is also a believer of God, she goes to the church sometimes to pray for herself.
When Sarah was rich, she had a pony and a driver to take her for a walk, when she became an orphan, the headmistress of the college had to fire her driver, called Peter. As Sarah goes to buy groceries, she meets Peter who sells in the market and becomes to him a very good friend; he helps her to do her shopping and carries it for her to the college.
In the meantime, the college has a new neighbour who lives in the house just next to it. This neighbour is a rich man from India, who is very sick, he caught a tropical disease in India but the servant of this man becomes quite friend with Sarah, both admire the courage of Sarah. One day, Sarah becomes quite sick as a result of having gone through the rain to do some food shopping for the college.
Her friends, Peter and Becky go and pray in the church for Sarah recovery and they go to the aunt of one of the girls; Sarah had taken under her protection, to get her some medicine for her sickness. The college neighbour sends his servants to go into Sarah room at night to make her a good fire and a good meal to recover her strength. As a result of all those nice gestures, Sarah recovers rapidly from her sickness.
Sarah neighbour keeps supplying good meals to Sarah and Becky anonymously at night but soon, the headmistress finds out about the meals. As a result, Sarah and Becky get punished and, Sarah is sent to sleep in the stable where her pony used to stay before being taken away. Sarah is devastated but she keeps believing in God and found strength by looking at the picture of her deceased parents.
Shortly after, Lavinia celebrates her birthday and wants Sarah to give her the doll "Emily" that her dad had given her before he left for India. Seeing through her cruelty, Sarah friends stand up to Lavinia and urge her to give the doll back to Sarah, which is the only comfort through all the hardships that Sarah had been enduring.
We learn that the college neighbour which is a rich man had been working with Sarah dad in India, this man was Sarah dad childhood friend, he assisted to his death and, he was also owning the mine of diamonds and, now he is searching for Sarah to make her inherit his fortune, not having any family of his own, as he feels he owes to Sarah dad for having influenced him to buy the mine of diamonds who cost him his life.
He doesn't know that the name of the girl he has been helping is the girl he has been looking for. He decides to buy some expensive clothes for Sarah anonymously and send them as a gift to the college.
In the meantime, Lavinia and her friends put the fire at the stable by mistake, wanting to scare Sarah little 4 years old friend, the day of Halloween, chasing her while carrying candles in huge pumpkins; one of the candle falls on the floor of the stable and set fire to it.
Fortunately, Sarah wasn't sleeping in the stable at this time and she manages to save her doll and the photograph of her beloved parents. However, Lavinia accuses Sarah of having set the fire in the stable. The headmistress blames Sarah wrongly despite her friends claiming her innocence; Sarah decides to leave the college for having been treated very badly, worse than a slave.
Sarah found refuge with Peter and his family. She decides to take on the job of selling matches in the street in the harsh cold and snow of winter. Shortly after, Peter brings her back to his home as the sister of the headmistress, Miss Amelia, came to collect her to bring her back to the college to give her the anonymous gift that the college neighbour had sent Sarah.
The headmistress insists on Sarah to try on the clothes that suit her perfectly. So Miss Minchin realises that Sarah has a secret benefactor and, decides for Sarah to resume the college classes and give up her maid status.
In the afternoon, the little monkey of the college neighbour escapes in Sarah mansard. She decides to bring the monkey to the college neighbour without being seen. As it happens, the neighbour asks Sarah her name and found out that she is the daughter of his beloved deceased friend. Having been looking everywhere for her to inherit his fortune.
As a result of finding Sarah, her benefactor decides to keep Sarah in his house and supply her with beautiful dresses, she is called "the princess diamonds".
Shortly after, the headmistress who learnt those amazing news, get quite a shock by realising that she had treated Sarah quite badly, she even wants to give up her position as a headmistress, realising that she had a bad attitude towards Sarah because she became poor and felt threatened by Sarah strength through her dilemma. Having a kind and forgiving heart, free from grudges, Sarah decides to make a huge donation to the college and to carry on studying there with her friends.
As a result, the classmates that hated Sarah decide to become friends with her (including Lavinia). Everything that Sarah had lost as a result of her poverty, her pony and her parrot, are restored to Sarah in the end. Sarah decides to reward the owner of the bakery for having given her the loaves of bread when she was hungry; she wants to pay for every loaf of bread that the owner of the bakery will give to the homeless children every day.
Sarah also decides to engage Becky as a lady of company. As a matter of fact, Becky had stood up for Sarah all the times Sarah was wrongly accused because of the bad jokes of Lavinia, Becky even let herself punished for smuggling food at night for Sarah who was starving.
In conclusion, I can see the power of God in this amazing story of "Princess Sarah", who has been adapted as a cartoon series. I used to watch this cartoon when I was a little girl and forgot most of it as time went on. This story has really touched my heart. Having watched it recently, I really felt for that little girl who had to stay brave despite her tough hardships of life. Her kindness, positivity and sensitivity to the needs of others despite the unfair things going on all around her, she never displayed resentment or anger at being treated unjustly. However, she cried quite a lot in her closet and decided to leave the college when it was too much for her to bear, but, everybody does it. We are human beings. There is so much we can endure.
We can also remember the story of Job, a wealthy man who lost his health and wealth in one day. Shortly after, God restored Job to his previous status of wealth, giving him even more for all the hardships that he had to endure.
James 5:11
Behold, we count them happy which endure. Ye have heard of the patience of Job, and have seen the end of the Lord; that the Lord is very pitiful, and of tender mercy.
We can see that God is so much at work in Sarah life; he gives her strength, help and faith through all the people she had helped kindly along the way. Those people risk their positions for helping Sarah out. But, she rewards them all in the end. It is good to be kind to people because we never know when God will use them to help us. Through all the hardships of Sarah, we can see that God is always there; Sarah learns humility and gets rewarded by having more than she ever imagined.
In conclusion, we shouldn't lose heart through our troubles; the light is still shining at the end of the tunnel. God is waiting to reward us for our perseverance and faith in him. God just wants us to trust in Him and He will see us through in due times. God just wants to use those hardships to rely on him and to humble us. He is the only one that can help us.
Colossians 1:11
Strengthened with all might, according to his glorious power, unto all patience and longsuffering with joyfulness;
1 Thessalonians 1:3
Remembering without ceasing your work of faith, and labour of love, and patience of hope in our Lord Jesus Christ, in the sight of God and our Father;
Hebrews 10:36
For ye have need of patience, that, after ye have done the will of God, ye might receive the promise.
God bless you all.
Sana Edoja
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Monday, October 18, 2010
A Recipe For Happiness
I remember as a child, visiting my Aunt Mabel by the sea. I don't know what was the more pleasurable - visiting Aunt Mabel, or visiting the sea, for I loved them both! Never was a grown-up so kindly and enthusiastic, so interested in the world, as my Aunt Mabel was. We'd sit on the porch, and she'd tell me stories of when she was a girl - she'd hoot with laughter when I tried to tell a joke. She'd watch me running along the beach, chasing the dancing edges of the waves. In the evenings, as the sea whispered it's secrets to the shells, Aunt Mabel would light a candle on the table outside, and she'd read me passages from the Bible. I'd close my eyes and lay back on the big, old couch and listen, as the stars lit up the sky... y'know, in our own way, over the years, Aunt Mabel and I made quite a study of that Great Book! Last thing at night, Aunt Mabel would take my hands, and draw me close and kiss me. Then she'd send me off to bed, with a blessing. One of my favorite of Aunt Mabel's blessings was this one:
Happiness is
taking
Whatever God gives you to work with
And making a gift of it to others
Letting God's light shine through you
Just a little every day...
That's the surest recipe to chase the blues away!
Why did this little verse mean so much to me?
Well... Aunt Mabel was confined to a wheel-chair; she'd been in that wheel-chair, ever since she was 10 years old when she'd had an accident and fallen from a horse. I guess Aunt Mabel knew a lot about disappointment... but if she did, she didn't show it! I reckon Aunt Mabel had travelled more miles for God in that wheel-chair, than most people do on two good legs. God calls us to take note of our lives, and serve Him with joy and praise - at least, that's what Aunt Mabel used to say. Now, if she could do it from a wheel-chair - how much more able are most of us! No more excuses! We need to take whatever gifts God gives us, and shine!
"Are you called to help others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then God will be given glory in everything through Jesus Christ."
1 Peter 4:11
2010 Laura Swindon-Ross. All rights reserved
This work is copyright, all rights reserved.
I'm a teacher and Christian writer, currently studying for a Ph.D.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Happiness is
taking
Whatever God gives you to work with
And making a gift of it to others
Letting God's light shine through you
Just a little every day...
That's the surest recipe to chase the blues away!
Why did this little verse mean so much to me?
Well... Aunt Mabel was confined to a wheel-chair; she'd been in that wheel-chair, ever since she was 10 years old when she'd had an accident and fallen from a horse. I guess Aunt Mabel knew a lot about disappointment... but if she did, she didn't show it! I reckon Aunt Mabel had travelled more miles for God in that wheel-chair, than most people do on two good legs. God calls us to take note of our lives, and serve Him with joy and praise - at least, that's what Aunt Mabel used to say. Now, if she could do it from a wheel-chair - how much more able are most of us! No more excuses! We need to take whatever gifts God gives us, and shine!
"Are you called to help others? Do it with all the strength and energy that God supplies. Then God will be given glory in everything through Jesus Christ."
1 Peter 4:11
2010 Laura Swindon-Ross. All rights reserved
This work is copyright, all rights reserved.
I'm a teacher and Christian writer, currently studying for a Ph.D.
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
Gone With The Wind
The train left Nampally railway station at exactly five twenty five and I made myself comfortable at my seat which was on the lower berth in the near empty coach. The coach is divided into compartments having four berths, two on the lower and two on the upper, facing each other.
My work involves extensive travel to meet shipping deadlines and I keep a travel case ready with all the necessities along with a Bible and a novel, bigger the better as I may not get reading material in some of those far off destinations.
Sitting on the berth with the back to the window and popped up with pillows I stretched out my legs on the berth and started reading the only book available with me, ‘Gone with the Wind’ by Margaret Mitchell. Even though I have read it many times before, I get so immersed into it, that time just flies by mesmerizing me as the South comes alive just like it was in the year 1861 with its old world charm, as the beautiful green eyed sixteen year old Scarlett O’Hara makes her way through one thousand and odd pages till the book ends with her famous words, ‘I’ll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. After all, tomorrow is another day.’
The sudden ring of a mobile phone in the opposite berth startled me as it was particularly loud, and the owner, a plump lady in her forties, looked apologetic as she answered it. It was nearing eight and dinner was being served by the pantry boy.
After the call the lady asked me rather sheepishly, “Excuse me can you lower the volume?”
I took her mobile and made the necessary adjustments.
“Thank you very much.”
I nodded.
Pointing to the book I was reading she asked me, “Is it ‘Gone with the Wind’?”
“Yes”
“Great book”
I nodded again, but this time I smiled.
“They say the sales of the book were second to the Bible?”
“Yes”
“Are you a Christian?”
“Yes”
And she was silent. Seeing that she was minding her own business, I unwrapped my dinner, and watching me, she called, “Sheila”
And from the top berth, a girl, who must be in her mid twenties answered, “Yes Ma”
“Beta lets have dinner.”
I quickly finished my dinner and returned to my reading.
After about fifteen minutes, I glanced up from my reading and saw through the tinted window that we are approaching a station.
“Are you conversant with the Bible?” the lady asked.
As I looked at her, bewildered, she explained, “What I meant to ask is, are you familiar with the Bible.”
“Yes, I am familiar with it. I read it daily.”
“You read it daily?” she asked me shocked.
“Yes,” I answered with a bewildered look.
“I beg your pardon; please don’t think otherwise, what I meant was, do you read the Bible daily?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is it that easy? Is it in English?”
I laughed and taking out the Bible from my travel case gave it to her. It is encased in a black zipped leather jacket with ‘Holy Bible’ printed on it in golden letters.
“Can I open it?”
“Sure go ahead.”
Opening the zip, she flipped the pages and looking at me asked, “Can I read it?”
“Oh sure, sure, please go ahead.”
“When I am reading should I cover my head?”
I laughed again. “Ma’am, read it just like you read any other book.”
Before I could say anything she started reading the Book of Genesis.
I didn’t know when I slept off, but when I woke up, I found her still reading.
The soft beep of the alarm woke me up and when I pulled the travel case from under my berth, I noticed that the Bible was kept over it, with a simple Thank You note. As the lady’s destination is Belgaum which is another five hours away, she was sleeping soundly on her side and facing away from me.
The surprise arrival of a fairly thick envelope at my office address after two months, by one Mrs.Tanushree Madhumitha, Belgaum and I immediately knew that it must be the lady I met in the train, though I had never asked her name. The envelope contained a couple of photographs, a wedding invitation and a three page handwritten letter.
Dear Mr. Richard,
Remember me? I met you in the train on 18 March 1992. Enclosed is my daughter Sheila, our only child’s wedding invitation. You may feel surprised that I am inviting you, a total stranger to her wedding but after 18 March 1992 you are a family member and I would like to share with you in detail of how you made it possible for us to accept Jesus Christ as our savior and Lord.
You see, Sheila wanted to marry George Gideon, a Christian colleague of hers, whom she was friendly from the last three years. We being from a very strong orthodox Non Christian background, fervently hoped that the phase would go away with the passage of time and waited for nearly three years. But their love, instead of waning, became stronger and stronger. She not only wanted to marry him but to get herself converted into Christianity that made us dumbfounded as none in our family for seven generations on my side and seven in my husband’s side have ever thought of doing it. Getting converted to a religion, a religion where there is no idol worship and a religion which is alien in India is unthinkable to us.
Richard, we never heard about Christianity or about Jesus Christ and to make our situation very difficult we don’t have any common Christian friends. So when I met you in the train and saw you reading ‘Gone with the Wind’, I had that woman’s instinct that you are a Christian and oh boy, I waited for a very long time to start a conversation with you.
But I never knew that you would carry a Bible and give it for me to read it and that made it possible for me to understand about Christianity. Reading it made me know more about Jesus Christ and convinced me to take this momentous decision, as well as make it easy to convince my husband, a forty eight year old man with an illustrious career in the Indian Air Force, a man revered in our family for his great success and a man much sought out in our social circle.
Richard thank you and God Bless You, and we look forward to see you and your wife Pamela at the wedding.
Yours truly,
Tanushree
Ps: - I have noted down your office address from the visiting card which you had kept as a book mark.
We attended the marriage at the Church and the reception was one of the best gatherings we had ever attended.
The phone rang. It was my boss. “Richard the Goan handicrafts order is confirmed. Make arrangements to fly to Goa, and this time take your wife along as it is going to be fairly long trip.”
The plan was to fly direct from Hyderabad to Dabolim, but Pamela wanted to take the train. As usual she did the packing but this time she kept two Bibles and my visiting cards in each of them as a book mark.
And along with my all time favorite ‘Gone with the Wind’ she also kept ‘War and Peace’ written by Leo Tolstoy.
Glossary: Beta - Daughter in Hindi language.
Tikka -A vermillion dot or a colored sticker kept on all non Christian’s
woman’s forehead.
Roti - An unleavened flatbread made from wheat flour.
Author’s Note: Christianity in India is as old as Christianity itself, as Saint Thomas preached in the first century A.D. The Bible Society of India and Gideon International translate and distribute the Holy Bible in forty nine Indian languages and eighty languages worldwide and in one hundred and ninety countries around the world.
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
My work involves extensive travel to meet shipping deadlines and I keep a travel case ready with all the necessities along with a Bible and a novel, bigger the better as I may not get reading material in some of those far off destinations.
Sitting on the berth with the back to the window and popped up with pillows I stretched out my legs on the berth and started reading the only book available with me, ‘Gone with the Wind’ by Margaret Mitchell. Even though I have read it many times before, I get so immersed into it, that time just flies by mesmerizing me as the South comes alive just like it was in the year 1861 with its old world charm, as the beautiful green eyed sixteen year old Scarlett O’Hara makes her way through one thousand and odd pages till the book ends with her famous words, ‘I’ll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. After all, tomorrow is another day.’
The sudden ring of a mobile phone in the opposite berth startled me as it was particularly loud, and the owner, a plump lady in her forties, looked apologetic as she answered it. It was nearing eight and dinner was being served by the pantry boy.
After the call the lady asked me rather sheepishly, “Excuse me can you lower the volume?”
I took her mobile and made the necessary adjustments.
“Thank you very much.”
I nodded.
Pointing to the book I was reading she asked me, “Is it ‘Gone with the Wind’?”
“Yes”
“Great book”
I nodded again, but this time I smiled.
“They say the sales of the book were second to the Bible?”
“Yes”
“Are you a Christian?”
“Yes”
And she was silent. Seeing that she was minding her own business, I unwrapped my dinner, and watching me, she called, “Sheila”
And from the top berth, a girl, who must be in her mid twenties answered, “Yes Ma”
“Beta lets have dinner.”
I quickly finished my dinner and returned to my reading.
After about fifteen minutes, I glanced up from my reading and saw through the tinted window that we are approaching a station.
“Are you conversant with the Bible?” the lady asked.
As I looked at her, bewildered, she explained, “What I meant to ask is, are you familiar with the Bible.”
“Yes, I am familiar with it. I read it daily.”
“You read it daily?” she asked me shocked.
“Yes,” I answered with a bewildered look.
“I beg your pardon; please don’t think otherwise, what I meant was, do you read the Bible daily?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Is it that easy? Is it in English?”
I laughed and taking out the Bible from my travel case gave it to her. It is encased in a black zipped leather jacket with ‘Holy Bible’ printed on it in golden letters.
“Can I open it?”
“Sure go ahead.”
Opening the zip, she flipped the pages and looking at me asked, “Can I read it?”
“Oh sure, sure, please go ahead.”
“When I am reading should I cover my head?”
I laughed again. “Ma’am, read it just like you read any other book.”
Before I could say anything she started reading the Book of Genesis.
I didn’t know when I slept off, but when I woke up, I found her still reading.
The soft beep of the alarm woke me up and when I pulled the travel case from under my berth, I noticed that the Bible was kept over it, with a simple Thank You note. As the lady’s destination is Belgaum which is another five hours away, she was sleeping soundly on her side and facing away from me.
The surprise arrival of a fairly thick envelope at my office address after two months, by one Mrs.Tanushree Madhumitha, Belgaum and I immediately knew that it must be the lady I met in the train, though I had never asked her name. The envelope contained a couple of photographs, a wedding invitation and a three page handwritten letter.
Dear Mr. Richard,
Remember me? I met you in the train on 18 March 1992. Enclosed is my daughter Sheila, our only child’s wedding invitation. You may feel surprised that I am inviting you, a total stranger to her wedding but after 18 March 1992 you are a family member and I would like to share with you in detail of how you made it possible for us to accept Jesus Christ as our savior and Lord.
You see, Sheila wanted to marry George Gideon, a Christian colleague of hers, whom she was friendly from the last three years. We being from a very strong orthodox Non Christian background, fervently hoped that the phase would go away with the passage of time and waited for nearly three years. But their love, instead of waning, became stronger and stronger. She not only wanted to marry him but to get herself converted into Christianity that made us dumbfounded as none in our family for seven generations on my side and seven in my husband’s side have ever thought of doing it. Getting converted to a religion, a religion where there is no idol worship and a religion which is alien in India is unthinkable to us.
Richard, we never heard about Christianity or about Jesus Christ and to make our situation very difficult we don’t have any common Christian friends. So when I met you in the train and saw you reading ‘Gone with the Wind’, I had that woman’s instinct that you are a Christian and oh boy, I waited for a very long time to start a conversation with you.
But I never knew that you would carry a Bible and give it for me to read it and that made it possible for me to understand about Christianity. Reading it made me know more about Jesus Christ and convinced me to take this momentous decision, as well as make it easy to convince my husband, a forty eight year old man with an illustrious career in the Indian Air Force, a man revered in our family for his great success and a man much sought out in our social circle.
Richard thank you and God Bless You, and we look forward to see you and your wife Pamela at the wedding.
Yours truly,
Tanushree
Ps: - I have noted down your office address from the visiting card which you had kept as a book mark.
We attended the marriage at the Church and the reception was one of the best gatherings we had ever attended.
The phone rang. It was my boss. “Richard the Goan handicrafts order is confirmed. Make arrangements to fly to Goa, and this time take your wife along as it is going to be fairly long trip.”
The plan was to fly direct from Hyderabad to Dabolim, but Pamela wanted to take the train. As usual she did the packing but this time she kept two Bibles and my visiting cards in each of them as a book mark.
And along with my all time favorite ‘Gone with the Wind’ she also kept ‘War and Peace’ written by Leo Tolstoy.
Glossary: Beta - Daughter in Hindi language.
Tikka -A vermillion dot or a colored sticker kept on all non Christian’s
woman’s forehead.
Roti - An unleavened flatbread made from wheat flour.
Author’s Note: Christianity in India is as old as Christianity itself, as Saint Thomas preached in the first century A.D. The Bible Society of India and Gideon International translate and distribute the Holy Bible in forty nine Indian languages and eighty languages worldwide and in one hundred and ninety countries around the world.
Victor Jasti from India has this passion to write short stories based on Bible and real incidents. He also writes Christian fiction & poetry. Five of his poems were published in Temporal Currents compiled by an American author Ms Christine Tricarico
Article Source: FaithWriters.com http://www.faithwriters.com and FaithReaders.com http://www.faithreaders.com
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