"The One who is, and who was, and who is to come extends to us his grace. That is God the Father, the great I AM. When God appeared to Moses in the burning bush, he proclaimed himself to be "I AM WHO I AM." Moses was to tell the children of Israel that I AM had sent him to them to lead them out of slavery. I AM, the eternally existing God: The One who is, and who was, and who is to come. In the midst of all the changes of life and history, God remains unchanging, the same yesterday, today, and forever."

~THE TUNNEL TO THE SKY~

~In about 1942-43 my brothers and I went out onto the very thick ice in Mpls. Minn. to drop out marbles in the cracks of the ice to see the rainbows come up. I was the youngest and the slowest. They called back to me to watch out for the hole in the ice, I seen the hole but did not walk far enought around is as the ice tapers back and I fell in and went under the ice. Did you know that there is 1" air space between water and ice? That was the last thing I remembered is panic befor I started going slowly up a stairway to the clouds, it was getting warmer and brighter, as I neared the top I could see a lot of people and a voice saying, "go back, go back, go back" and I slowly started going back where I woke up all purple and so cold, the police said I had no heart beat or breathing when they got me from under the ice. This was a long time befor they were talking of such things. I truly believe God was with me and had other plans for my life, which you will see at LLOYD'S HOME Be sure to bookmark and bring a box of kleenex with you, better yet read this site, sign my guestbook and then go to my other Homepages.~

~I REFUSE TO BE DISCOURAGED~

~I refuse to be discouraged, To be sad, or to cry; I refuse to be downhearted, and here's the reason why...~

~I have a God who's mighty, Who's sovereign and supreme; I have a God who loves me, and I am on His team.~

~He is all wise and powerful, Jesus is His name; Though everything is changeable, My God remains the same.~

~My God knows all that's happening; Beginning to the end, His presence is my comfort, He is my dearest friend.~

~When sickness comes to weaken me, To bring my head down low, I call upon my mighty God; Into His arms I go.~

~When circumstances threaten to rob me from my peace; He draws me close unto His breast, Where all my strivings cease.~

~And when my heart melts within me, and weakness takes control; He gathers me into His arms, He soothes my heart and soul.~

~The great "I AM" is with me, My life is in His hand, The "Son of the Lord" is my hope, It's in His strength I stand.~

~I refuse to be defeated, My eyes are on my God; He has promised to be with me, as through this life I trod.~

~I'm looking past all my circumstances, To Heaven's throne above; My prayers have reached the heart of God, I'm resting in His love.~

~I give God thanks in everything, My eyes are on His face; The battle's His, the victory is mine; He'll help me win the race.~

~Author Unknown~

~I AM~

~I was regretting the past and fearing the future. Suddenly God was speaking: "MY NAME IS I AM."~

~I waited. God continued: "When you live in the past with its mistakes and regrets, it is hard. I am not there. MY NAME IS NOT I WAS.~

~When you live in the future, with its problems and fears, it is hard. I am not there. MY NAME IS NOT I WILL BE.~

~When you live in this moment, it is not hard, I am here. "MY NAME IS I AM."~

~Author Unknown~

~The Room~

~In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small indexcard files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.~

~As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked". I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.~

~A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.~

~A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed". The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I Have Given", "Jokes I Have Laughed At". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers."~

~Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents". I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.~

~When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.~

~An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot.~

~Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried.~

~I cried out of shame, from the overwheming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.~

~No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.~

~Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.~

~Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.~

~By Joshua Harris~

Subject: The Room
~Procrastinating as usual, 17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for the Fellowship of Christian Athletes meeting. It was his turn to lead the discussion. So he sat down and wrote. He showed the essay titled "The Room" to his mother, Beth, before he headed out the door. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father Bruce. "It was a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It was also the last.~

~Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teays Valley High school. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-the crepe paper that had adorned his locker during his senior football season, notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.~

~Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there," Mr. Moore said.~

~Brian Moore died May 27, 1997-the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.~

~Brian seemed to excel at everything he did. He was an honor student. He told his parents he loved them "a hundred times a day", Mrs. Moore said. He was a star wide receiver for the Teays Valley football team and had earned a four-year scholarship to Capital University in Columbus because of his athletic and academic abilities. He took it upon himself to learn how to help a fellow student who used a wheelchair at school. During one homecoming ceremony, Brian walked on his tiptoes so the girl he was escorting wouldn't be embarrassed about being taller than him. He adored his kid brother, Bruce, now 14. He often escorted his grandmother Evelyn Moore, who lives in Columbus to church. "I always called him the deep thinker," Evelyn Moore said of her eldest grandson.~

~Two years after his death, his family still struggles to understand why Brian was taken from them. They find comfort at the cemetery where Brian is buried, just a few blocks from their home. They visit daily. A candle and dozens of silk and real flowers keep vigil over the gravesite. The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him again someday," Mrs. Moore said. "I just hurt so bad now."~

~DON'T QUIT~

~When things go wrong as they sometimes will, When the road you're trudging seems all uphill, When the funds are low and the debts are high, And you want to smile but you have to sigh, When care is pressing you down a bit... Rest if you must - but don't you quit.~

~Life is queer with its twists and turns, As every one of us sometimes learns, And many a failure turns about, When he might have won if he'd stuck it out. Don't give up, though the pace seems slow You may succeed with another blow. Often the goal is nearer than it seems to a faint and faltering man; Often the struggler has given up. When he might have captured the victor's cup, And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, How close he was to the golden crown.~

~Success is failure turned inside out. The silver tint of the clouds of doubt, And you never can tell how close you are, It may be near when it seems afar, So stick to the fight when you're hardest hit, It's when things go wrong That you must not quit.~

~Author Unknown~

~

~THE HAND OF GOD~

~The following pictures are the same photograph of a funnel cloud.~


~The first picture shows the photograph as it was actually taken.~

~What you are about to see next is the same picture turned sideways.~


~ Photographer Unknown ~
~What Do You See?~
~This is an actual photograph and has not been altered in any manner.~

~GOD'S ETERNAL INK~

~I dreamed I was in heaven Where an angel kept God's book. He was writing so intently I just had to take a look.~

~It was not, at first, his writing That made me stop and think But the fluid in the bottle That was marked eternal ink.~

~This ink was most amazing, Dark black upon his blotter But as it touched the parchment It became as clear as water.~

~The angel kept on writing, But as quickly as a wink The words were disappearing With that strange eternal ink.~

~The angel took no notice, But kept writing on and on. He turned each page and filled it Till all its space was gone.~

~I thought he wrote to no avail, His efforts were so vain For he wrote a thousand pages That he'd never read again.~

~And as I watched and wondered that This awesome sight was mine, I actually saw a word stay black As it dried upon the line.~

~The angel wrote and I thought I saw A look of satisfaction. At last he had some print to show For all his earnest action.~

~A line or two dried dark and stayed As black as black can be, But strangely the next paragraph Became invisible to see.~

~The book was getting fuller, The angel's records true, But most of it was blank, with Just a few words coming through.~

~I knew there was some reason, But as hard as I could think, I couldn't grasp the significance Of that eternal ink.~

~The mystery burned within me, And I finally dared to ask The angel to explain to me Of his amazing task.~

~And what I heard was frightful As the angel turned his head. He looked directly at me, And this is what he said.~

~I know you stand and wonder At what my writing's worth But God has told me to record The lives of those on earth.~

~The book that I am filling Is an accurate account Of every word and action And to what they do amount.~

~And since you have been watching I must tell you what is true; The details of my journal Are the strict accounts of YOU.~

~The Lord asked me to watch you As each day you worked and played. I saw you as you went to church, I saw you as you prayed.~

~But I was told to document Your life through all the week. I wrote when you were proud and bold, I wrote when you were meek.~

~I recorded all your attitudes Whether they were good or bad. I was sorry that I had to write The things that make God sad.~

~So now I'll tell the wonder Of this eternal ink, For the reason for its mystery Should make you stop and think.~

~This ink that God created To help me keep my journal Will only keep a record of Things that are eternal.~

~So much of life is wasted On things that matter not So instead of my erasing, Smudging ink and ugly blot.~

~I just keep writing faithfully and Let the ink do all the rest For it is able to decide What's useless and what's best.~

~And God ordained that as I write Of all you do and say Your deeds that count for nothing Will just disappear away.~

~When books are opened someday, As sure as heaven is true; The Lord's eternal ink will tell What mattered most to you.~

~If you just lived to please yourself The pages will be bare, And God will issue no reward For you when you get there.~

~In fact, you'll be embarrassed, You will hang your head in shame Because you did not give yourself In love to Jesus' Name.~

~Yet maybe there will be a few Recorded lines that stayed That showed the times you truly cared, Sincerely loved and prayed.~

~But you will always wonder As you enter heaven's door How much more glad you would have been If only you'd done more.~

~For I record as God sees, I don't stop to even think Because the truth is written With God's eternal ink.~

~When I heard the angel's story I fell down and wept and cried For as yet I still was dreaming I hadn't really died.~

~And I said: O angel tell the Lord That soon as I awake I'll live my life for Jesus -- I'll do all for His dear sake.~

~I'll give in full surrender; I'll do all He wants me to; I'll turn my back on self and sin And whatever isn't true.~

~And though the way seems long and rough I promise to endure. I'm determined to pursue the things That are holy, clean and pure.~

~With Jesus as my helper, I will win lost souls to Thee, For I know that they will live with Christ For all eternity.~

~And that's what really matters When my life on earth is gone That I will stand before the Lord And hear Him say, "Well done."~

~For is it really worth it As my life lies at the brink? And I realize that God keeps books With His eternal ink.~

~Should all my life be focused On things that turn to dust? From this point on I'll serve the Lord; I can, I will, I must!~

~I will NOT send blank pages Up to God's majestic throne For where that record's going now Is my eternal home.~

~I'm giving all to Jesus I now have seen the link For I saw an angel write my life With God's eternal ink.~

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