Another benefit of giving is freedom. It's a matter of basic physics. The greater the mass, the greater the hold that mass exerts. The more things we own – the greater their total mass – the more they grip us, setting us in orbit around them. Finally, like a black hole, they suck us in… We think we own our possessions, but too often they own us.. .Every item we buy is one more thing to think about, talk about, clean, repair, rearrange, fret over, and replace when it goes bad.
Randy Alcorn

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THE STENCH OF HATRED

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#1 · March 4, 2004, 9:22 am

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

The Stench Of Hatred 

A kindergarten teacher has decided to let her class play a game.
The teacher told each child in the class to bring along a plastic
bag
containing a few potatoes. Each potato will be given a name of a
person
that the child hates, so the number of potatoes that a child will
put in his/her
plastic bag will depend on the number of people he/she hates.

So when the day came, every child brought some potatoes with the
names of the
people he/she hated. Some had 2 potatoes; some3 while some up to 5
potatoes.

The teacher then told the children to carry with them the potatoes
in the
plastic bag wherever they go (even to the toilet) for 1week.

Days after days passed by, and the children started to complain due
to the
unpleasant smell let out by the rotten potatoes.  Besides, those
having 5
potatoes also had to carry heavier bags.

After 1 week, the children were relieved because the game had
finally ended.

The teacher asked: "How did you feel while carrying the potatoes
with you
for a week?"
The children let out their frustrations and started complaining of
the
trouble that they had to go through having to carry the heavy and
smelly
potatoes wherever they go.

Then the teacher told them the hidden meaning behind the game.

The teacher said: "This is exactly the situation when you carry your
hatred
for somebody inside your heart. The stench of hatred will
contaminate your
heart and you will carry it with you wherever you go. If you cannot
tolerate the smell of rotten potatoes for just ONE week, can you
imagine what is it
like to have the stench of hatred in your heart for your lifetime???"

"Forgiveness is not something you do for someone else; it is
something you do
for yourself.

Give yourself the gift of forgiveness"

 
 

I Never Knew 
While in a large East Coast city on business Dan had spent the evening drinking in the hotel bar.  Having sworn that this trip would be different, he was feeling pretty disgusted with himself the next morning.  He decided a long walk might clear his head and his mood, so he struck out and soon found himself on a narrow residential street.  The houses were small but clean and well kept, and Dan sensed that he'd chosen a good direction.
About halfway down the block an elderly gentleman looked up from his chore of raking leaves and greeting Dan warmly.  "Good morning to you," he smiled. "Looks like the Lord has put together another beautiful day, doesn't it?"

"I guess," Dan shrugged, staring down at his shoes.

The old man looked at Dan's bleary eyes and rumpled clothes. "You know, son, Jesus Christ could make this the best day of your life if you'll let Him."  He reached into his pocket and handed Dan a small tract.  "Why don't you look this over and stop by and see me again?"
Dan half-heartedly thanked his benefactor, stuck the tract into his jacket pocket and went on his way.  He didn't read the tract, but somehow he never quite managed to throw it away.  A year later, on another business trip, Dan found himself frantically pacing his hotel room.  He was at the end of his rope spiritually, financially, emotionally, and physically.
By habit he threw on his jacket and started for the door. But as he shoved one hand into the pocket, that persistent little tract touched his fingers.  He pulled it out, went to his bed and read through its entirety.  He opened his nightstand and found his room's Gideon Bible and carefully researched the verses the tract had referenced. He fell to his knees and, at that very moment, ended his old life and began a brand new one in Christ.
The following years of Dan's life were a whirlwind of joy and struggle.  He became a minister of the Gospel and was invited to city after city, country after country to share his love for the Lord and the miraculous way in which the Lord had changed him.  Time after time as Dan shared his message people would come to him and say, "That's amazing!  You know, I was in that same city, took a wrong turn, and stopped in front of a house to ask directions.  An old man was working in a flower bed and he gave me a Gospel tract."
Each story was different, and yet each story told how people from all over the globe, people who had for many different reasons come to that city, had found themselves drawn to a narrow residential street where an old man worked in his yard.
Some time later Dan returned to the city where his new life had begun.  But this time he was there to preach a revival in a local church.  Remembering the old man who had given him the tract he made his way to the tiny white house.  Seeing no one outside, he knocked on the door.  A slow shuffle of feet could be heard, and finally the door cracked open.
"Sir, you probably don't remember me," Dan began, "but you gave me a Gospel tract several years ago and I wanted you to know that it's because of your faithful witness that I now stand here as a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ."
The old man swung the door open wide, revealing a metal walker before his bent and feeble body.  "Come in, come in,"he told Dan as the tears streamed down both their faces. Dan followed him into a tiny living room.
"Praise God!  Praise God!" the elderly gentleman's voice shook with age and emotion.  "All these years I wondered if I was making a difference.  You see, my wife - she's gone now, God rest her soul - was an invalid and I couldn't get out except to work in the yard.  For her last eighteen years I had to be here all the time, so I prayed every day for the Lord to send me people who needed to hear the Word.  What a blessing to know about you, son."
"Oh, sir," Dan told him, moving to his side and taking his hand, "I've heard about you all over the world."  And as Dan told of the many people who'd come to know the Lord through the witness of this silver-haired believer, the man wept uncontrollably.
"Thank you, Jesus," the faithful old witness kept repeating. "I never knew.  I just wanted to be faithful to my Lord."
 
 
Have a Blessed Day 
Dave and Barbara 

 
 

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