Jesus Lives 5
Wow!!!!! Even more of these wonderful stories.
I will continue to add these stories as I receive
them. Hope you continue to return to check out
when new ones are added.
The PLAQUE
One Sunday morning, the pastor noticed little
Alex was staring up at the large plaque that
hung in the foyer of the church. The seven-year
-old had been staring at the plaque for some time,
so the pastor walked up, stood beside the boy,
and said quietly, "Good morning Alex."
"Good morning pastor" replied the young man,
focused on the plaque. "Pastor McGhee, what is
this?" Alex asked. "Well son, these are all the
people who have died in the service," replied the
pastor. Soberly, they stood together, staring at
the large plaque.
Little Alex's voice barely broke the silence
when he asked quietly, "Which one, the 9:00 or
the 10:30 service?"
CHECKING IN
A minister passing through his church in the
middle of the day, decided to pause by the altar
to see who had come to pray. Just then the back
door opened and a man came down the aisle.
The minister frowned when he saw the man hadn't
shaved in a while. His shirt was kind of shabby,
his coat was worn and frayed. He knelt, bowed
his head, rose and walked away. In the days that
followed each noon time came this chap, each
time he knelt for just a moment, a lunch pail in
his lap. Well, the minister's suspicions grew,
with robbery a main fear. He decided to ask the
man, "What are you doing here?" The old man said
he worked down the road. He had but half an hour
for 'lunch,' "I stay only moments, see, because
the factory is so far away. As I kneel here
talking to the Lord, this is kinda what I say:
"I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU,
LORD, HOW HAPPY I'VE BEEN, SINCE
WE FOUND EACH OTHER'S FRIENDSHIP
AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN. DON'T
KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY, BUT I
THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY. SO, JESUS,
THIS IS JIM CHECKING IN."
Feeling foolish, the minister told Jim that was
fine. He was welcome to come and pray just
anytime. Time to go! Jim smiled, said "Thanks,"
and hurried to the door. The minister knelt at
the altar. He'd never done it before. His cold
heart melted, and warmed with love, he met Jesus
there. As the tears flowed, in his heart, he
repeated old Jim's prayer: "I JUST
CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD, HOW
HAPPY I'VE BEEN, SINCE WE FOUND
EACH OTHER'S FRIENDSHIP AND YOU
TOOK AWAY MY SIN. I DON'T KNOW
MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY, BUT I THINK
ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY SO, JESUS,
THIS IS ... ME CHECKING IN."
Past noon one day, the minister noticed that old
Jim hadn't come. As more days passed without Jim,
he began to worry some. At the factory, he asked
about him, learning he was ill. The hospital staff
was worried, the week that Jim was with them
brought changes in the ward, his smiles and joy
contagious. Changed People were his reward!
The head nurse couldn't understand why Jim was
so glad, when no flowers, calls or cards came,
not a visitor he had. The minister stayed by his
bed, voicing the nurses concern, No friends came
to show they cared.
Looking surprised, old Jim spoke up and with a
winsome smile; "The nurse is wrong, she couldn't
know, that every day at noon a dear friend of
mine comes to visit, He sits right down, takes
my hand, leans over and says to me:
I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU,
JIM, HOW HAPPY I HAVE BEEN, SINCE
WE FOUND THIS FRIENDSHIP, AND I
TOOK AWAY YOUR SIN. ALWAYS LOVE TO
HEAR YOU PRAY, I THINK ABOUT YOU
EACH DAY, AND SO JIM, THIS IS...
JESUS CHECKING IN."
Author Unknown
JESUS
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 "Boys 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 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-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.
Author Unknown
TREASURES
There are treasures in life,
but owners are few
Of money and power
to buy things brand new.
Yet you can be wealthy
and feel regal too,
If you will just look
for the treasures in you.
These treasures in life
are not hard to find
When you look in your heart,
your soul, and your mind.
For when you are willing
to share what's within,
Your fervent search
for riches will end.
The joy and the laughter,
the smile that you bring;
The heart unafraid
to love and to sing;
The hand always willing
to help those in need;
Ones quick to reach out,
to labor and feed.
So thank you for sharing
these great gifts inside;
The caring, the cheering,
the hug when one cried.
Thanks for the energy,
encouragement too,
And thank you for sharing
the treasures in you.
Author Unknown
THE CHURCH
His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a
T-shirt with holes in it, jeans and no shoes.
This was literally his wardrobe for his entire
four years of college. He is brilliant. Kind of
esoteric and very, very bright. He became a
Christian while attending college. Across the
street from the campus is a well-dressed, very
conservative church. They want to develop a
ministry to the students, but are not sure how
to go about it. One day Bill decides to go there.
He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt,
and wild hair. The service has already started
and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a
seat. The church is completely packed and he
can't find a seat. By now people are really
looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says
anything. Bill gets closer and closer and closer
to the pulpit and, when he realizes there are no
seats, he just squats down right on the carpet.
(Although perfectly acceptable behavior at a
college fellowship, trust me, this had never
happened in this church before!)
By now the people are really uptight, and the
tension in the air is thick. About this time,
the minister realizes that from way at the back
of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way
toward Bill. Now the deacon is in his eighties,
has silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A
godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very
courtly. He walks with a cane and, as he starts
walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to
themselves that you can't blame him for what he's
going to do. How can you expect a man of his age
and of his background to understand some college
kid on the floor? It takes a long time for the
man to reach the boy. The church is utterly
silent except for the clicking of the man's cane.
All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear
anyone breathing. The minister can't even preach
the sermon until the deacon does what he has to
do. And now they see this elderly man drop his
cane on the floor. With great difficulty he lowers
himself and sits down next to Bill and worships
with him so he won't be alone.
Everyone chokes up with emotion. When the minister
gains control, he says, "What I'm about to preach,
you will never remember. What you have just seen,
you will never forget. Be careful how you live. You
may be the only Bible some people will ever read."
Author Unknown
PRAYERS
A voyaging ship was wrecked during a storm at
sea and only two of the men on it were able to
swim to a small, desert like island. The two
survivors, not knowing what else to do, agreed
that they had no other recourse but to pray to
God. However, to find out whose prayer was more
powerful, they agreed to divide the territory
between them and stay on opposite sides
of the island.
The first thing they prayed for was food. The
next morning, the first man saw a fruit-bearing
tree on his side of the land, and he was able to
eat its fruit. The other man's parcel of land
remained barren.
After a week, the first man was lonely and he
decided to pray for a wife. The next day, another
ship was wrecked, and the only survivor was a
woman who swam to his side of the land. On the
other side of the island, there was nothing. Soon
the first man prayed for a house, clothes, more
food. The next day, like magic, all of these were
given to him. However, the second man still
had nothing.
Finally, the first man prayed for a ship, so
that he and his wife could leave the island. In
the morning, he found a ship docked at his side
of the island. The first man boarded the ship
with his wife and decided to leave the second man
on the island. He considered the other man
unworthy to receive God's blessings, since none
of his prayers had been answered.
As the ship was about to leave, the first man
heard a voice from heaven booming, "Why are you
leaving your companion on the island?"
"My blessings are mine alone, since I was the
one who prayed for them", the first man
answered. "His prayers were all unanswered
and so he does not deserve anything." "You
are mistaken!" the voice rebucked him. "He
had only one prayer, which I answered. If
not for that, you would not have received
any of my blessings." "Tell me", the first
man asked the voice, "What did he pray for
that I should owe him anything?" "He prayed
that all your prayers be answered."
For all we know, our blessings are not the
fruits of our prayers alone, but those of
another praying for us.
Author unknown
GOD IS LIKE
God is like Coca-Cola
He's the real thing
God is like Allstate
You're in good hands with Him
God is like Bayer Aspirin
He works wonders
God is like Hallmark Cards
He cares enough to give the very best
God is like General Electric
He brings good things to life
God is like Prudential
He gives us a piece of The Rock
God is like Tide
He gets the stains out that others leave behind
God is like VO5
He holds through any kind of weather
God is like Sears
He has everything
God is like the US Army
He wants us to be all we can be
God is like American Express
Don't leave home without Him
God is like Scotch Tape
You know He's there but you can't see Him
God is like Dial Soap
Aren't YOU glad you know Him?
Don't you wish everyone else did!
Author Unknown
DEAR PASTOR
Dear Pastor, I liked your sermon where you said
that good health is more important than money but
I still want a raise in my allowance. Sincerely,
Eleanor. Age 12, Sarasota
Dear Pastor, Please pray for all the airline
pilots. I am flying to California tomorrow.
Laurie. Age 10, New York City
Dear Pastor, I hope to go to heaven some day but
later than sooner. Love, Ellen, age 9. Athens
Dear Pastor, Please say a prayer for our Little
League team. We need God's help or a new pitcher.
Thank you. Alexander. Age 10, Raleigh
Dear Pastor, My father says I should learn the
Ten Commandments. But I don't think I want to
because we have enough rules already in my house.
Joshua. Age 10, South Pasadena
Dear Pastor, Who does God pray to? Is there a
God for God? Sincerely, Christopher.
Age 9, Titusville
Dear Pastor, Are there any devils on earth? I
think there may be one in my class.
Carla. Age 10, Salina
Dear Pastor, I liked your sermon on Sunday.
Especially when it was finished.
Ralph, Age 11, Akron
Dear Pastor, How does God know the good people
from the bad people? Do you tell Him or does He
read about it in the newspapers?
Sincerely, Marie. Age 9, Lewiston
Page 6
BACK
HOME