Quote from Forum Archives on December 8, 2003, 12:23 am

Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>

 

     

*** Whisper *** 

 

Today I got a burden,
And I felt that I should pray,
For God's spirit seemed to tell me,
That you were having a bad day.

 

I don't know just what that problem is,
But I sure do know the cure,
And if you'll only let Him,
God will keep you safe and secure.

 

In life there's always problems,
Cropping up to spoil our day,
But my friend, you know the answer,
All you have to do is "Pray".

 

If you still feel you're defeated,
And you want to run and hide,
Just reach out and I'll be there,
Standing right there by your side.

 

So remember...Whisper Jesus,
For He's just a prayer away,
He's so close that you can touch Him,
All you have to do is "Pray".

 

 

*** Satan's Garage Sale ***

 

 

Once upon a time, Satan was having a garage sale. There,
standing in little groups were all of his bright, shiny
trinkets.

 

Here were tools that make it easy to tear others down for
use as stepping stones. And over there were some lenses
for magnifying ones own importance, which,if you looked
through them the other way, you could also use to belittle
others, or even one's self.

 

Against the wall was the usual assortment of gardening
implements guaranteed to help your pride grow by leaps
and bounds: the rake of scorn, the shovel of jealousy
for digging a pit for your neighbor, the tools of gossip
and backbiting, of selfishness and apathy.

 

All of these were pleasing to the eye and came complete
with fabulous promises and guarantees of prosperity.
Prices, of course, were steep; but not to worry! Free
credit was extended to one and all.

 

"Take it home, use it, and you won't have to pay until
later!" old Satan cried, as he hawked his wares.

 

The visitor, as he browsed, noticed two well worn, non-
descript tools standing in one corner. Not being nearly
as tempting as the other items, he found it curious that
these two tools had price tags higher than any other.

 

When he asked why, Satan just laughed and said, "Well,
that's because I use them so much. If they weren't so
plain looking, people might see them for what they were."

 

Satan pointed to the two tools, saying, "You see, that
one's Doubt and that one's Discouragement -- and those
will work when nothing else will."

*** Christmas Is For Love *** 

Christmas is for love. It is for joy, for giving and sharing, for laughter, for reuniting with family and friends, for tinsel and brightly decorated packages. But mostly, Christmas is for love. I had not believed this until a small elf-like student with wide-eyed innocent eyes and soft rosy cheeks gave me a wondrous gift one Christmas.

 

Mark was an 11 year old orphan who lived with his aunt, a bitter middle aged woman greatly annoyed with the burden of caring for her dead sister's son. She never failed to remind young Mark, if it hadn't been for her generosity, he would be a vagrant, homeless waif. Still, with all the scolding and chilliness at home, he was a sweet and gentle child.

 

I had not noticed Mark particularly until he began staying after class each day (at the risk of arousing his aunt's anger, I later found) to help me straighten up the room. We did this quietly and comfortably, not speaking much, but enjoying the solitude of that hour of the day. When we did talk, Mark spoke mostly of his mother. Though he was quite small when she died, he remembered a kind, gentle, loving woman, who always spent much time with him.

 

As Christmas drew near however, Mark failed to stay after school each day. I looked forward to his coming, and when the days passed and he continued to scamper hurriedly from the room after class, I stopped him one afternoon and asked why he no longer helped me in the room. I told him how I had missed him, and his large gray eyes lit up eagerly as he replied, "Did you really miss me?"

 

I explained how he had been my best helper. "I was making you a surprise," he whispered confidentially. "It's for Christmas." With that, he became embarrassed and dashed from the room. He didn't stay after school any more after that.

 

Finally came the last school day before Christmas. Mark crept slowly into the room late that afternoon with his hands concealing something behind his back. "I have your present," he said timidly when I looked up. "I hope you like it." He held out his hands, and there lying in his small palms was a tiny wooden box.

 

"Its beautiful, Mark. Is there something in it?" I asked opening the top to look inside. "

 

"Oh you can't see what's in it," He replied, "and you can't touch it, or taste it or feel it, but mother always said it makes you feel good all the time, warm on cold nights, and safe when you're all alone."

 

I gazed into the empty box. "What is it Mark," I asked gently, "that will make me feel so good?" "It's love," he whispered softly, "and mother always said it's best when you give it away." And he turned and quietly left the room.

 

So now I keep a small box crudely made of scraps of wood on the piano in my living room and only smile as inquiring friends raise quizzical eyebrows when I explain to them that there is love in it.

 

Yes, Christmas is for gaiety, mirth and song, for good and wondrous gifts. But mostly, Christmas is for love.

 

 

Have a Blessed Day

Dave and Barbara

 

 

 

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