JESUS LIVES 9
Well, here we are on page 9... I really hope you
are enjoying these stories to praise our LORD!!!!!
HOW MUCH I CARE
The day is over, you are driving home. You tune
in your radio. You hear a little blurb about a
little village in India where some villagers have
died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never
been seen before. It's not influenza, but three
or four fellows are dead, and it's kind of interesting.
They're sending doctors over there to investigate
it. You don't think much about it, but on Sunday,
coming home from church, you hear another radio
spot. Only they say it's not three villagers,
it's 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this
particular area of India, and it's on TV that
night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading
there from the disease center in Atlanta because
this disease strain has never been seen before.
By Monday morning when you get up, it's the
lead story. For it's not just India; it's
Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you
know it, you're hearing this story everywhere
and they have coined it now as "the mystery
flu". The President has made some comment
that he and everyone are praying and hoping
that all will go well over there. But everyone
is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?"
That's when the President of France makes an
announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing
their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or
any of the countries where this thing has been seen.
That night you are watching a little bit of CNN
before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest
when a weeping woman is translated from a French
news program into English: "There's a man lying
in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu.
"It has come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best
they can tell, once you get it, you have it for
a week and you don't know it. Then you have four
days of unbelievable symptoms. Then you die.
Britain closes it's borders, but it's too late.
South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton, and it's
Tuesday morning when the President of the United
States makes the following announcement: "Due to
a national security risk, all flights to and from
Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved
ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come
back until we find a cure for this thing." Within
four days our nation has been plunged into an
unbelievable fear. People are selling little masks
for your face. People are talking about what if it
comes to this country, and preachers on Tuesday
are saying, "It's the scourge of God.
"It's Wednesday night and you are at a church
prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the
parking lot and says, "Turn on a radio, turn on
a radio." While the church listens to a little
transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to
it, the announcement is made, "Two women are
lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the
mystery flu." Within hours it seems, this thing
just sweeps across the country. People are working
around the clock trying to find an antidote.
Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona,
Florida, Massachusetts. It's as though it's just
sweeping in from the borders.
Then, all of a sudden the news comes out. The
code has been broken. A cure can be found. A
vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood
of somebody who hasn't been infected, and so,
sure enough, all through the Midwest, through
all those channels of emergency broadcasting,
everyone is asked to do one simple thing: "Go
to your downtown hospital and have your blood
type taken. That's all we ask of you. When you
hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood,
please make your way quickly, quietly, and
safely to the hospitals.
"Sure enough, when you and your family get
down there late on that Friday night, there
is a long line, and they've got nurses and
doctors coming out and pricking fingers and
taking blood and putting labels on it. Your
and your kids are out there, and they take
your blood type and they say, "Wait here in
the parking lot and if we call your name, you
can be dismissed and go home." You stand
around scared with your neighbors, wondering
what in the world is going on, and that this
is the end of the world.
Suddenly a young man comes running out of the
hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and
waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And
your son tugs on your jacket and says, "Daddy,
that's me." Before you know it, they have grabbed
your boy. "Wait a minute, hold it!" And they
say, "It's okay, his blood is clean. His
blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't
have the disease. We think he has the right
type." Five tense minutes later, out come the
doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one
another; some are even laughing. It's the first
time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and
an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank
you. sir, Your son's blood type is perfect. It's
clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine."
As the word begins to spread all across that
parking lot full of folks, people are screaming
and praying and laughing and crying. But then
the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your
wife aside and says, "May we see you for
a moment? We didn't realize that the donor
would be a minor and we need. . .we need
you to sign a consent form." You begin to
sign and then you see that the number of
pints of blood to be taken is empty.
"H-h-h-how many pints?" And that is when
the old doctor's smile fades and he says,
"We had no idea it would be a little child.
We weren't prepared. We need it all!"
"But but..." "You don't understand. We are
talking about saving the world here.
Please sign. We - we need it all - we need
it all!" "But can't you give him a transfusion?"
"If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign?
Would you sign?" In numb silence you do. Then they
they say, "Would you like to have a moment with
him before we begin?" Can you walk back? Can
you walk back to that room where he sits on
a table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going
on?" Can you take his hands and say, "Son.
your mommy and I love you, and we would
never ever let anything happen to you that
didn't just have to be. Do you understand
that?" And when that old doctor comes back
in and says."I'm sorry, we've got to get
started. People all over the world are dying."
Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is
saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why have you forsaken
me?" And then next week, when they have the
ceremony to honor your son, and some folks
sleep through it, and some folks don't even
come because they go to the lake, and some
folks come with a pretentious smile and just
pretend to care, would you want to jump up
and say, "MY SON DIED! DON'T YOU CARE?"
Is that what God is saying? "MY SON DIED.
DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?"
"Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our
hearts. Maybe now we begin to comprehend the
great love you have for us. Amen"
Author Unknown
JESUS IS IN THE HOUSE
Once there was this very wealthy young man.
He lived in a great, elaborate house with
dozens of rooms. each room was more comfortable
and more beautiful than the one before it.
There were paintings and sculptures. Crystal
chandeliers, golden, ornate railings on the
stairs. More beauty than most have ever seen.
One day he decided to invite the Lord to come
home and stay with him. When the Lord arrived,
this young man offered him the very best room
in the house. The room was upstairs and at the
end of the hall. "This room is yours, Jesus!
Stay as long as you like and you can do whatever
you want to in this room, remember Jesus,
its all yours."
That evening after he had retired for the night
there came a loud knocking at the front door.
The young man pulled on his robe and made his
way downstairs. When he opened the door he found
that the devil had sent three of his demons to
attack the man. He quickly tried to close the
door but one of the demons kept sticking his
foot in. Sometime later, after a great struggle,
he managed to slam the door shut and returned
to his room totally exhausted. "Can you believe
that", the man thought. "Jesus is upstairs in
my very best room sleeping while I am down here
battling demons. Oh, well, maybe he just didn't
hear". He slept fitfully that night.
The next day thing went along as normal and,
being tired as he was, the young man retired
early that evening. Along about midnight, there
came such a terrible ruckus at the front door
that the young man was sure that whatever it
was would tear the door down. He stumbled down
the stairs once again and opened the door to
find that were dozens of demons now trying to
get into his beautiful home.
For more than three hours he fought and
struggled against the demons from hell and
finally overtook them enough to shut the door
against their attack. All energy seemed to fail
him. He really didn't understand this at all.
"Why won't the Lord come to my rescue? Why does
he allow me to fight all by myself? I feel so
alone". Troubled, he found his way to the sofa
and fell into a restless sleep.
The next morning he decided to inquire of the
Lord about the happenings of the last two
evenings. Quietly he made his way to the
elegant bedroom where he had left Jesus.
"Jesus," he called as he tapped at the door.
"Lord, I don't understand what is happening.
For the last two nights I have had to fight
the demons away from my door while you laid
up here sleeping. Don't you care about me?
Did I not give you the very best room
in the house?"
He could see the tears building in Jesus'
eyes but continued on, "I just don't
understand, I really thought that once I
invited you in to live with me that you would
take care of me and I gave you the best room
in my house and everything. What more can I do?"
"My precious child," Jesus spoke so softly. "I
do love and care for you. I protect all that
you have released into my care. But when you
invited me to come here and stay, you brought
me to this lovely room and you shut the door to
the rest of your house. I am Lord of this room
but I am not Master of this house. I have
protected this room and no demon
may enter here."
"Oh, Lord, please forgive me. Take all of my
house-it is yours. I am so sorry that I never
offered you all to begin with. I want you to
have control of everything." With this he
flung open the bedroom door and knelt at
Jesus' feet. "Please forgive me Lord for being
so selfish." Jesus smiled and told him that He
had already forgiven him and that He would take
care of things from now on. That night as the
young man prepared for bed he thought, "I
wonder if those demons will return, I am so
tired of fighting them each and every night."
But he knew that Jesus said that he would take
care of things from now on.
Along about midnight the banging on the door
was frightening. The young man slipped out of
his room in time to see Jesus going down the
stairs. He watched in awe as Jesus swung open
the door, no need to be afraid. Satan stood
at the door this time demanding to be let in.
"What do you want, satan?" the Lord asked.
The devil bowed low in the presence of the
Lord, "So sorry, I seem to have gotten the
wrong address." And with that, he and the
demons all ran away.
There is a moral to this tale. Jesus wants
all of you, not just a part. He will take all
that you give Him but nothing more. How much
of your heart have you given to the Lord? Are
you keeping a portion of it away from Him?
Perhaps the attacks are coming more and more
each day. Why not let the Lord fight the
battles for you? He is always victorious. I
have found that God made man simple, all of
man's complexities are of his own devising.
Author Unknown
THE WILL OF GOD
The will of God will never take you,
Where the grace of God cannot keep you,
Where the arms of God cannot support you,
Where the riches of God cannot supply your needs,
Where the power of God cannot endow you.
The will of God will never take you.
Where the Spirit of God cannot work through you,
Where the wisdom of God cannot teach you,
Where the army of God cannot protect you,
Where the hands of God cannot mold you.
The will of God will never take you.
Where the love of God cannot enfold you,
Where the mercies of God cannot sustain you,
Where the peace of God cannot calm your fears,
Where the authority of God cannot overrule for you.
The will of God will never take you.
Where the comfort of God cannot dry your tears,
Where the Word of God cannot feed you,
Where the miracles of God cannot be done for you,
Where the omnipresence of God cannot find you.
The will of God will never take you.
Everything happens for a purpose. We may not
see the wisdom of it all now, but if we just
trust and believe in the Lord, everything
is for the best!
Author Unknown
MARY HAD A LITTLE LAMB
Mary had a little lamb,
His fleece was white as snow.
And everywhere that Mary went,
The Lamb was sure to go.
He followed her to school each day,
When it wasn't against the rules.
He made the children laugh and play,
To have a Lamb at school.
Then the rules changed one day,
Against the law it became.
To bring the Lamb of God to school,
Or even speak His Name.
Every day got worse and worse,
And days turned into years.
Instead of hearing children laugh and play,
You heard them crying tears.
What must we do to stop the crime,
That's in our schools today?
Let the Lamb come back to school,
And teach our kids to pray.
Author Unknown
THE SPEAKER
A well known speaker started off his seminar
by holding up a $20 bill. In the room of 200,
he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?"
Hands started going up. He said, "I am going
to give this $20 to one of you but first, let
me do this." He proceeded to crumple the
dollar bill up. He then asked, "Who still wants
it?" Still the hands were up in the air. "Well,"
he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped
it on the ground and started to grind it into
the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now
all crumpled and dirty. "Now who still wants
it?" Still the hands went into the air.
"My friends, you have all learned a very
valuable lesson. No matter what I did to the
money, you still wanted it because it did not
decrease in value. It was still worth $20.
Many times in our lives, we are dropped,
crumpled and ground into the dirt by the
decisions we make and the circumstances that
come our way. We feel as though we are worthless.
But no matter what has happened or what will
happen, you will never lose your value in God's
eyes. To Him, dirty or clean, crumpled or
finely creased... You are still priceless!
Author Unknown
A SIMPLE PRAYER
My son Gilbert was eight years old and had
been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During
one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of
paper, a block of wood and four tires and
told to return home and give all to "Dad".
That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do.
Dad was not receptive to doing things with his
son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and
scoffed at idea of making a pine wood derby car
with his young, eager son. The block of wood
remained untouched as the weeks passed. Finally,
"Mom" stepped in to see if I could
figure this all out.
The project began. Having no carpentry skills,
I decided it would be best if I simply read the
directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he
did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules
of what we could do and what we couldn't do.
Within days his block of wood was turning into
a pinewood derby car. A little lopsided, but
looking great (at least through the eyes of Mom).
Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars
and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue
Lightning" - the pride that comes with knowing
you did something on your own.
Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood
derby in his hand and pride in his heart we
headed to the big race. Once there my little
one's pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car
was obviously the only car made entirely on his
own. All the other cars were a father ~ son
partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body
styles made for speed. A few of the boys giggled
as they looked at Gilberts, lopsided, wobbly,
unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility,
Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his
side. A couple of the boys who were from single
parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather
by their side. Gilbert only had "Mom."
As the race began it was done in elimination
fashion. You kept racing as long as you were
the winner. One by one the cars raced down the
finely sanded ramp. Finally, it was between
Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car
there. As the last race was about to begin, my
wide-eyed, shy eight year old ask if they could
stop the race for a minute, because he wanted
to pray. The race stopped. Gilbert hit his knees
clutching his funny looking block of wood
between his hands. With a wrinkled brow, he set
to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest
for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood,
smile on his face and announced,
"Okay, I am ready."
As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood
with his father as their car sped down the ramp.
Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart
and watched his block of wood wobble down the
ramp with surprisingly great speed and rushed
over the finish line a fraction of a second
before Tommy's car. Gilbert leaped into the air
with a loud "Thank you" as the crowd roared in
approval. The Scout Master came up to Gilbert
with microphone in hand and asked the obvious
question, "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?"
To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir.
That wouldn't be fair to ask God to help you
beat someone else. I just asked Him to make
it so I don't cry when I lose."
Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us.
Gilbert didn't ask God to win the race, he
didn't ask God to fix the outcome, Gilbert asked
God to give him strength in the outcome. When
Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't cry
out to God, "No fair, they had a fathers help".
No, he went to his Father for strength. Perhaps
we spend too much of our prayer time asking God
to rig the race, to make us number one, or too
much time asking God to remove us from the
struggle, when we should be seeking God's
strength to get through the struggle. "I can do
everything through Him who gives me strength."
Philippians 4:13
Gilbert's simple prayer spoke volumes to those
present that night. He never doubted that God
would indeed answer his request. He didn't pray
to win, thus hurting someone else. He simply
prayed that God supply the grace to lose with
dignity. Gilbert, by his stopping the race to
speak to his Father also showed the crowd that
he wasn't there without a "Dad", but his Father
was most definitely there with him. Yes,
Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with
his Father at his side.
Author: Peggy Porter
THE U IN JESUS
Before U were thought of or time had begun,
God even stuck U in the name of His Son. And
each time U pray, you'll see it's true You
can't spell out JesUs and not include U.
You're a pretty big part of His wonderful
name, For U, He was born; that's why He came.
And His great love for U is the reason He died.
It even takes U to spell crUcified.
Isn't it thrilling and splendidly grand
He rose from the dead, with U in His plan.
The stones split away, the gold trUmpet blew,
And this word resUrrection is spelled with a U.
When JesUs left earth at His upward ascension,
He felt there was one thing He just had to
mention. "Go into the world and tell them it's
true That I love them all - Just like I love U.
So many great people are spelled with a U,
Don't they have a right to know JesUs too?
It all depends now on what U will do, He'd
like them to know, But it all starts with U.
JesUs and U!!
Author Unnown
HOMELESS MAN ???
It was a cold winter's day that Sunday. The
parking lot to the church was filling up quickly.
I noticed as I got out of my car that fellow
church members were whispering among themselves
as they walked to the church.
As I got closer I saw a man leaned up against
the wall outside the church. He was almost
laying down as if he was asleep. He had on a
long trench coat that was almost in shreds and
a hat topped his head, pulled down so you could
not see his face. He wore shoes that looked 30
years old, too small for his feet with holes all
over them, his toes stuck out. I assumed this
man was homeless, and asleep, so I walked on by
through the doors of the church. We all
fellowshipped for a few minutes, and someone
brought up the man laying outside. People
snickered and gossiped but no one bothered to
ask him to come in, including me. A few moments
later church began.
We all waited for the Preacher to take his
place and to give us the Word, when the doors
to the church opened. In came the homeless
man walking down the aisle with his head down.
People gasped and whispered and made faces. He
made his way down the aisle and up onto the
pulpit he took off his hat and coat.
My heart sank.
There stood our preacher...he was the "homeless
man." No one said a word. The preacher took his
Bible and laid it on the stand. "Folks, I don't
think I have to tell you what I am preaching
about today." Then he started singing the words
to this song. "If I can help somebody as I pass
along. If I can cheer somebody with a word or
song. If I can show somebody that he's traveling
wrong. Then my living shall not be in vain."
"IS YOUR LIVING IN VAIN?"
"To God Be The Glory"
Author Unknown
HAVE YOU TASTED JESUS?
At the University of Chicago Divinity School
each year they have what is called "Baptist
Day". It is a day when all the Baptists in the
area are invited to the school because they
want the Baptist dollars to keep coming in. On
this day each one is to bring a lunch to be
eaten outdoors in a grassy picnic area. Every
"Baptist Day" the school would invite one of
the greatest minds to lecture in the theological
education center. One year they invited Dr. Paul
Tillich. Dr. Tillich spoke for two and one-half
hours proving that the resurrection of Jesus was
false. He quoted scholar after scholar and book
after book. He concluded that since there was
no such thing as the historical resurrection the
religious tradition of the church was groundless,
emotional mumbo-jumbo, because it was based on a
relationship with a risen Jesus, who, in fact,
never rose from the dead in any literal sense. He
then asked if there were any questions.
After about 30 seconds, an old, dark skinned
preacher with a head of short-cropped, woolly
white hair stood up in the back of the auditorium.
"Docta Tillich, I got one question," he said as
all eyes turned toward him. He reached into his
sack lunch and pulled out an apple and began
eating it. "Docta Tillich ..." CRUNCH, MUNCH ...
"My question is a simple question," CRUNCH,
MUNCH ... "Now I ain't never read them books
you read ... " CRUNCH, MUNCH ... "and I can't
recite the Scriptures in the original Greek..."
CRUNCH, MUNCH ... "I don't know nothin' about
Niebuhr and Heidegger..."CRUNCH, MUNCH ... He
finished the apple. "All I wanna know is: This
apple I just ate -- was it bitter or sweet?"
Dr. Tillich paused for a moment and answered
in exemplary, scholarly fashion: "I cannot
possibly answer that question, for I haven't
tasted your apple."
The white-haired preacher dropped the core of
his apple into his crumpled paper bag, looked
up at Dr. Tillich and said calmly, "Neither
have you tasted my Jesus." The 1,000 plus in
attendance could not contain themselves. The
auditorium erupted with applause and cheers.
Dr. Tillich thanked his audience and promptly
left the platform. In Psalms 34:8 we read:
Taste and see that the LORD is good; blessed
is the man who takes refuge in Him. If you
have, rejoice in the hope of the resurrection
that your faith in Him brings.
Author Unknown
Page 10
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