JESUS LIVES 10
Thank you Jesus for giving me so many
wonderful things to put on this site to
"Praise Your Holy Name"
The Carpenter..........
The heavy door creaked on its hinges as He
pushed it open. With a few strides He crossed
the silent shop and opened the wooden shutters
to a square shaft of sunshine that pierced
the darkness, painting a box of daylight on
the dirt floor.
He looked around the carpentry shop. He stood
for a moment in the refuge of the little room
that housed so many sweet memories. He balanced
the hammer in His hand. He ran his fingers
across the sharp teeth of the saw. He stroked
the smoothly worn wood of the sawhorse. He
had come to say good-bye.
It was time for Him to leave. He had heard
something that made Him know it was time to go.
So He came one last time to smell the sawdust
and lumber. Life was peaceful here. Life
was so . . . safe. Here He had spent countless
hours of contentment. On this dirt floor He
had played as a toddler while His father
worked. Here Joseph had taught Him how to
grip a hammer. And on this workbench He had
built His first chair. I wonder what He thought
as He took one last look around the room.
Perhaps He stood for a moment at the workbench
looking at the tiny shadows cast by the chisel
and shavings. Perhaps He listened as voices
from the past filled the air.
"Good job, Jesus."
"Joseph, Jesus – come and eat!"
"Don't worry, sir, we'll get it finished on
time. I'll get Jesus to help me."
I wonder if He hesitated. I wonder if His
heart was torn. I wonder if He rolled a nail
between His thumb and fingers, anticipating
the pain. It was in the carpentry shop that
He must have given birth to His thoughts. Here
concepts and convictions were woven together
to form the fabric of His ministry.
You can almost see the tools of His trade in
His words as He spoke. You can see the trueness
of a plumb line as He called for moral standards.
You can hear the whistle of the plane as He
pleads for religion to shave away unnecessary
traditions. You can picture the snugness of a
dovetail as He demands loyalty in relationships.
You can imagine Him with a pencil and a ledger
as He urges honesty. It was here that His human
hands shaped the wood His divine hands had
created. And it was here that His body matured
while His Spirit waited for the right moment,
the right day.
And now that day had arrived. It must have
been difficult to leave. After all, life as
a carpenter hadn't been bad. It wasn't bad at
all. Business was good. The future was bright
and His work was enjoyable. In Nazareth He was
known only as Jesus, the son of Joseph. You
can be sure He was respected in the community.
He was good with His hands. He had many friends.
He was a favorite among the children. He could
tell a good joke and had a habit of filling
the air with contagious laughter. I wonder if
He wanted to stay. "I could do a good job
here in Nazareth. Settle down. Raise a family.
Be a civic leader." I wonder because I know
He had already read the last chapter. He knew
that the feet that step out of the safe shadow
of the carpentry shop would not rest until
they had been pierced and placed on a Roman
cross. You see, He didn't have to go. He had
a choice. He could have stayed. He could have
kept his mouth shut. He could have ignored the
call or at least postponed it. And had He
chosen to stay, who would've known? Who would
have blamed Him?
He could have come back as a man in another
era when society was not so volatile, when
religion wasn't so stale, when people would
listen better. He could have come back when
crosses were out of style, but His heart
wouldn't let Him.
If there was hesitation on His part of
humanity, it was overcome by the compassion
of His divinity. His divinity heard the
voices. His divinity heard the hopeless cries
of the poor, the bitter accusations of the
abandoned, the dangling despair of those who
are trying to save themselves.
And His divinity saw the faces. Some wrinkled.
Some weeping. Some hidden behind veils. Some
obscured by fear. Some earnest with searching.
Some blank with boredom. From the face of
Adam to the face of the infant born somewhere
in the world as you read these words, He saw
them all. And you can be sure of one thing.
Among the voices that found their way into
that carpentry shop in Nazareth was your voice.
Your silent prayers uttered on tear-stained
pillows were heard before they were said. Your
deepest questions about death and eternity
were answered before they were asked. And your
direst need, your need for a Savior, was met
before you ever sinned.
And not only did He hear you, He saw you. He
saw your face aglow the hour you first knew
Him. He saw your face in shame the hour you
first fell. The same face that looked back at
you from this mornings mirror, looked at Him.
And it was enough to kill Him. He left because
of you. He laid his security down with His
hammer. He hung tranquility on the peg with
His nail apron. He closed the window shutters
on the sunshine of His youth and locked the
door on the comfort and ease of anonymity.
Since He could bear your sins more easily than
He could bear the thought of your hopelessness,
He chose to leave. It wasn't easy. Leaving the
carpentry shop never has been.
Author--Max Lucado
HEAVEN'S ENTRANCE EXAM
A man dies and goes to heaven. Of course, St.
Peter meets him at the Pearly Gates. St. Peter
says, "Here's how it works. You need 100 points
to make it into heaven.
You tell me all the good things you've done,
and I give you a certain number of points for
each item, depending on how good it was. When
you reach 100 points, you can get in."
"Okay," the man says, "I was married to the same
woman for 50 years and never cheated on her,
even in my heart."
"That's wonderful," says St. Peter, "that's
worth three points!"
"Three points?" he says. "Well, I attended
church all my life and supported its ministry
with my tithe and service."
"Terrific!" says St. Peter. "That's certainly
worth a point."
"One point? I started a soup kitchen in my city
and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans."
"Fantastic, that's good for two more points," he says.
"Two points!" the man cries. "At this rate, the
only way I get into heaven is by the grace of God!"
"Bingo! 100 points! Come on in!"
Author Unknown
A Light Within
There is a light within
That some people don't let shine
We hide it like it's shameful
Yet it is so divine
There is a light within
That we need to let show
Because of we don't
There is a Saviour that others will never know
There is a light within
And we can't shove it aside
Do you think God likes this?
Because for us, His Son died
There is a light within
That can burn so bright
But we push it further back
Out of sight
There is a light within
We need to light the flame
We are talking about God
Not some foolish game
There is a light within
Burning brightly in my heart
But now I'll show it to everyone
And let them know that God will give us a new start.
Author: Brittaney Hurt
Aug. 25, 1998
HE GATHERS EVERY TEARDROP
Regardless of the circumstance,
Regardless of the fear,
Regardless of the pain we bear,
Regardless of the tear,
Our God is ever in control,
Performing as He should,
And He has promised in His Word
To work things for our good.
But as a loving Father would,
He sometimes lets us cry
To cleanse the hurt out of our heart,
To wash it from our eye.
Yet gently gathers the tears
Within His hands to stay
Until He turns them into pearls
and gives them back someday.
Author: Glenda Fulton Davis
DECK OF CARDS
This is a story about a soldier in the North
Africa Campaign in World War II.
After heavy fighting, the man returned to camp.
The next day being Sunday, the Chaplain had set
up church services. The men were asked to take
out their Bible or Prayer Books. The Chaplain
noticed one soldier looking at a deck of cards.
After service he was taken by the Chaplain to
see the Major.
The Chaplain explained to the Major what he had
seen. The Major told the young soldier he would
have to be punished if he could not explain himself.
The young soldier told the Major that during the
battle he had neither a Bible nor a Prayer Book
so he would use his deck of cards and explained:
You see, Sir, when I look at the ACE it tells me
that there is one GOD and no other.
When I see the "2", it reminds me that
there are two parts to the Bible, the OLD
TESTAMENT and the NEW TESTAMENT.
The "3" tells me of the TRINITY OF GOD THE
FATHER, GOD THE SON and GOD THE HOLY SPIRIT.
The "4" reminds me of the FOUR GOSPELS,
MATTHEW, MARK, LUKE and JOHN.
When I see the "5" it tells me of the
FIVE UNWISE VIRGINS who were lost and
that five were saved.
When I see the "6" makes me mindful that
GOD CREATED THE EARTH IN JUST SIX DAYS,
and God said that it was good.
When I seen the "7", it reminds me that
GOD RESTED ON THE SEVENTH DAY.
As I look at the "8", it reminds me that
GOD DESTROYED ALL LIFE BY WATER EXCEPT
FOR EIGHT PEOPLE: Noah, his wife, their
three sons, and their three sons' wives.
When I see the "9", I think of the NINE
LEPERS that GOD healed. There were ten lepers
in all, but only one stopped to thank him.
The "10" reminds me of the TEN COMMANDMENTS
carved in stone by the hand of GOD.
The "JACK" makes me remember the Prince
of Darkness. Like a roaring lion, he
devours those that he can.
When I look at the "QUEEN", I see the
BLESSED VIRGIN MARY, MOTHER OF JESUS.
As I look at the last card, "THE KING", it
reminds me that JESUS IS LORD OF LORDS and
KING OF KINGS!
There are 365 spots on a deck of cards,
and that is the number of days in each year.
There are 52 cards to a deck and that
is the number of weeks in a year.
There are 12 picture cards and that is the number
of months in a year.
There are 4 different suits in a deck and that is
the number of months in a quarter of a year...."
And so, the young soldier then said to the Major,
"You see, Sir, that my intentions were honorable.
My deck of cards serves as my BIBLE, my PRAYER
BOOK and my ALMANAC.
A deck of cards should most importantly
remind us that we need JESUS 365 days, 52
weeks and 12 months a year and that we should
always PRAY "4" others.
May you never look at a deck of cards the same way.
Author Unknown
THE OTHER SIDE
A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was
leaving the room after paying a visit, and
said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what
lies on the other side."
Very quietly the doctor said, "I don't know."
"You don't know? You, a Christian man, do not
know what is on the other side?"
The doctor was holding the handle of the door,
on the other side of which came a sound of
scratching and whining, and as he opened the
door a dog sprang into the room and leaped on
him with an eager show of gladness.
Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did
you notice that dog? He had never been in this
room before. He did not know what was inside.
He knew nothing except that his master was here,
and when the door opened he sprang in without fear.
I know little of what is on the other side of
death, but I do know one thing: I know my Master
is there, and that is enough. And when the door
opens, I shall pass through with no fear,
but gladness."
Author Unknown
Thank You for the Thorns
Sandra felt as low as the heels of her
Birkenstocks as she pushed against a November
gust and the florist shop door. Her life had
been easy, like a spring breeze. Then in the
fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor
automobile accident stole her ease. During this
Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a
son. She grieved over her loss.
As if that weren't enough her husband's company
threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose
holiday visit she coveted, called saying she
could not come. What's worse, Sandra's friend
infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a
God-given path to maturity that would allow her
to empathize with others who suffer. "Had she
lost a child? No~she has no idea what I'm
feeling," Sandra shuddered. Thanksgiving?
"Thankful for what?" she wondered. For a careless
driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he
rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life
but took that of her child?
"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The flower
shop clerk's approach startled Sandra. "Sorry,"
said Jenny the shop clerk, "I just didn't want
you to think I was ignoring you."
"I....I need an arrangement."
"For Thanksgiving?" Sandra nodded. "Do you want
beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to
challenge the day with a customer favorite I
call the Thanksgiving Special."
Jenny saw Sandra's curiosity and continued.
"I'm convinced that flowers tell stories, that
each arrangement insinuates a particular feeling.
Are you looking for something that conveys
gratitude this Thanksgiving?"
"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted. "Sorry, but in
the last five months, everything that could go
wrong has." Sandra regretted her outburst but
was surprised when Jenny said, "I have the perfect
arrangement for you."
The door to the shop once again opened. "Barbara!
Hi," Jenny said. She politely excused herself
from Sandra and walked toward a small workroom.
She quickly reappeared carrying a massive
arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed
thorny roses. Only, the ends of the rose stems
were neatly snipped, no flowers. "Want this
in a box?" Jenny asked.
Sandra watched for Barbara's response. Was this
a joke? Who would want rose stems and no flowers!
She waited for laughter, for someone to notice
the absence of flowers atop the thorny stems,
but neither woman did. "Yes, please. It's
exquisite," said Barbara. "You'd think after
three years of getting the special, I'd not be
so moved by its significance, but it's happening
again. My family will love this one. Thanks."
Why so normal a conversation about such a
strange arrangement? she wondered. "Ah, said
Sandra, pointing. "That lady just left with,
ah....." "Yes?" "Well, she had no flowers!"
"Right, I cut off the flowers."
"Off?"
"Off. Yep. That's the Special. I call it the
Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet."
"But, why do people pay for that?" In spite
of herself Sandra chuckled. "Do you really
want to know?"
"I couldn't leave your shop without knowing...
I would wonder about nothing else!"
"That might be good," said Jenny. "Well," she
continued, "Barbara came into the shop three
years ago feeling very much like you feel
today. She thought she had very little to be
thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer,
the family business was failing, her son was
into drugs, and she faced major surgery."
"That same year, I lost my husband. I assumed
complete responsibility for the shop and for
the first time, spent the holidays alone. I had
no children, no husband, no family nearby, and
too great a debt to allow any travel" Jenny said.
"What did you do?"
"I learned to be thankful for thorns."
Sandra's eyebrows lifted. "Thorns?"
"I'm a Christian, Sandra, and I believe God
gave us all things in life, but I never thought
to ask Him why good things happened to me. But,
when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time
to learn that dark times are important. I always
enjoyed the 'flowers' of life but it took thorns
to show me the beauty of God's comfort. You know,
the Bible says that God comforts us when we're
afflicted and from His consolation we learn to
comfort others."
Sandra gasped. "A friend read that passage to
me and I was furious! I guess the truth is I don't
want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with
God." She started to ask Jenny to "go on" when
the door's bell diverted their attention.
"Hey, Phil!" shouted Jenny as a balding, rotund
man entered the shop. She softly touched Sandra's
arm and moved to welcome him. He tucked her under
his side for a warm hug. "I'm here for twelve
thorny long-stemmed stems!" Phil laughed, heartly.
"I figured as much," said Jenny. "I've got them
ready." She lifted a tissue-wrapped arrangement
from the refrigerated cabinet. "Beautiful," said
Phil. "My wife will love them."
Sandra couldn't help but ask "These are for
your wife?" Phil saw that Sandra's curiosity
matched his when he first heard of a Thorn
Bouquet. "Do you mind me asking, "Why thorns?"
"In fact, I'm glad you asked," he said. "Four
years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After
forty years, we were in a real mess, but we
slogged through, problem by rotten problem. We
rescued our marriage our love, really. Last year
at Thanksgiving I stopped in here for flowers.
I must have mentioned surviving a tough process
because Jenny told me that for a long time she
kept a vase of rose stems-just the stems-as a
reminder of what she learned from "thorny"
times. That was good enough for me. I took home
stems. My wife and I decided to label each one
for a specific thorny situation and give thanks
for what the problem taught us. I'm pretty sure
this stem review has become a tradition." Phil
paid Jenny, thanked her again and as he left,
said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"
"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns
in my life." Sandra said to Jenny.
"Well, my experience says that thorns make roses
more precious. We treasure God's providential
care more during trouble than at any other
time. Remember, Sandra, Jesus wore a crown of
thorns so that we might know His love. Do not
resent thorns, actually be thankful for them."
Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first
time since the accident she loosened her grip
on resentment. "I'll take twelve long-stemmed
thorns, please."
"I hoped you would," Jenny said. "I'll have
them ready in a minute. Then, every time you
see them, remember to appreciate both good
and hard times. We grow through both." "Thank
you. What do I owe you?"
"Nothing. Nothing but a pledge to work toward
healing your heart. The first year's arrangement
is always on me." Jenny handed a card to Sandra.
"I'll attach a card like this to your
arrangement but maybe you'd like to read it
first. Go ahead, read it." My God, I have
never thanked Thee for my thorn! I have
thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses,
but never once for my thorn. Teach me the glory
of the cross I bear, teach me the value of my
thorns. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by
the path of pain. Show me that my tears have
made my rainbow.~ George Matheson~
Jenny said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Sandra,"
handing her the Special. "I look forward to
our knowing each other better."
Sandra smiled. She turned, opened the door
and walked toward hope.
Author Unknown
Page 11
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