CHRIST WAS LOVE

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience.
I had cut back on nonessential obligations - extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending.. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.
My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six year old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's WinterPageant.
I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production.
Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his Teacher, & she assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation.
All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then.
Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise. So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down.
Around the room I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.
Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as "Christmas," I didn't expect anything other than commercial entertainment songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer.
So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title. Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads.
Those in the front row- center stage - held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song.
As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love."
The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down - totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W". The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake.
But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W". Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together.
A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen.
In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place. Why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities.
For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:
"C H R I S T W A S L O V E"
And, I believe, He still is.
Amazed in His presence....humbled by His love.
HAVE A BLESSED CHRISTMAS, love and prayer, sis katie.

Remember the Reason for this Season

>A young lady named Sally relates an experience she had in a seminary class,
>given by her teacher, Dr. Potter. She says that Dr. Potter was known for his
>elaborate object lessons.
>
> One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they
>were in for a fun day.
>
> On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts.
>Dr. Potter told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked
>or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts
>at the person's picture.
>
> Sally's friend drew a picture of who had stolen her boyfriend.
>Another friend drew a picture of his little brother. Sally drew a picture
>of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even
>drawing pimples on the face. Sally was pleased with the overall effect she
>had achieved.
>
> The class lined up and began throwing darts. Some of the students
>threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart.
>Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when
>Dr. Potter, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their
>seats. As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn't
>have a chance to throw any darts at her target. Dr. Potter began removing
>the target from the wall.
>
> Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus. A hush fell over the
>room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus; holes and jagged
>marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced.
>
> Dr. Potter said only these words.... "In as much as ye have done it
>unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me."
> Matthew 25:40.
>
> No other words were necessary; the tears filled eyes of the
>students focused only on the picture of Christ.
>

Bobby Decker

I remember my first Christmas adventure with Grandma. I was just a kid. I remember tearing across town on my bike to visit her on the day my big sister dropped the bomb: "There is no Santa Claus," she jeered. "Even dummies know that!" My Grandma was not the gushy kind, never had been. I fled to her that day because I knew she would be straight with me. I knew Grandma always told the truth, and I knew that the truth always went down a whole lot easier when swallowed with one of her "world-famous" cinnamon buns. I knew they were world-famous, because Grandma said so. It had to be true. Grandma was home, and the buns were still warm. Between bites, I told her everything. She was ready for me. "No Santa Claus?" She snorted...."Ridiculous! Don't believe it. That rumor has been going around for years, and it makes me mad, plain mad!! Now, put on your coat, and let's go." "Go? Go where, Grandma?" I asked. I hadn't even finished my second world-famous cinnamon bun. "Where" turned out to be Kerby's General Store, the one store in town that had a little bit of just about everything. As we walked through its doors, Grandma handed me ten dollars. That was a bundle in those days. "Take this money," she said, "and buy something for someone who needs it. I'll wait for you in the car. "Then she turned and walked out of Kerby's. I was only eight years old. I'd often gone shopping with my mother, but never had I shopped for anything all by myself. The store seemed big and crowded, full of people scrambling to finish their Christmas shopping. For a few moments I just stood there, confused, clutching that ten-dollar bill, wondering what to buy, and who on earth to buy it for. I thought of everybody I knew: my family, my friends, my neighbors, the kids at school, and the people who went to my church. I was just about thought out, when I suddenly thought of Bobby Decker. He was a kid with bad breath and messy hair, and he sat right behind me in Mrs. Pollock's grade-two class. Bobby Decker didn't have a coat. I knew that because he never went out to recess during the winter. His mother always wrote a note, telling the teacher that he had a cough, but all we kids knew that Bobby Decker didn't have a cough; he didn't have a good coat. I fingered the ten-dollar bill with growing excitement. I would buy Bobby Decker a coat! I settled on a red corduroy one that had a hood to it. It looked real warm, and he would like that. "Is this a Christmas present for someone?" the lady behind the counter asked kindly, as I laid my ten dollars down. "Yes, ma'am," I replied shyly. "It's for Bobby." The nice lady smiled at me, as I told her about how Bobby really needed a good winter coat. I didn't get any change, but she put the coat in a bag, smiled again, and wished me a Merry Christmas. That evening, Grandma helped me wrap the coat (a little tag fell out of the coat, and Grandma tucked it in her Bible) in Christmas paper and ribbons and wrote, "To Bobby, From Santa Claus" on it. Grandma said that Santa always insisted on secrecy. Then she drove me over to Bobby Decker's house, explaining as we went that I was now and forever officially, one of Santa's helpers. Grandma parked down the street from Bobby's house, and she and I crept noiselessly and hid in the bushes by his front walk. Then Grandma gave me a nudge. "All right, Santa Claus," she whispered, "get going." I took a deep breath, dashed for his front door, threw the present down on his step, pounded his door and flew back to the safety of the bushes and Grandma. Together we waited breathlessly in the darkness for the front door to open. Finally it did, and there stood Bobby. Fifty years haven't dimmed the thrill of those moments spent shivering, beside my Grandma, in Bobby Decker's bushes. That night, I realized that those awful rumors about Santa Claus were just what Grandma said they were: ridiculous. Santa was alive and well, and we were on his team. I still have the Bible, with the coat tag tucked inside: $19.95. May you always have LOVE to share, HEALTH to spare and FRIENDS that care....love and prayers, sis katie.

What Christmas should be about.......

Pa never had much compassion for the lazy or those who squandered their means and then never had enough for the necessities. But for those who were genuinely in need, his heart was as big as all outdoors. It was from him that I learned the greatest joy in life comes from giving, not from receiving.
It was Christmas Eve 1881. I was fifteen years old and feeling like the world had caved in on me because there just hadn't been enough money to buy me the rifle that I'd wanted for Christmas. We did the chores early that night for some reason. I just figured Pa wanted a little extra time so we could read in the Bible.
After supper was over I took my boots off and stretched out in front of the fireplace and waited for Pa to get down the old Bible. I was still feeling sorry for myself and, to be honest, I wasn't in much of a mood to read Scriptures. But Pa didn't get the Bible, instead he bundled up again and went outside. I couldn't figure it out because we had already done all the chores. I didn't worry about it long though, I was too busy wallowing in self-pity.
Soon Pa came back in. It was a cold clear night out and there was ice in his beard. "Come on, Matt," he said. "Bundle up good, it's cold out tonight." I was really upset then. Not only wasn't I getting the rifle for Christmas, now Pa was dragging me out in the cold, and for no earthly reason that I could see. We'd already done all the chores, and I couldn't think of anything else that needed doing, especially not on a night like this.
But I knew Pa was not very patient at one dragging one's feet when he'd told them to do something, so I got up and put my boots back on and got my cap, coat, and mittens. Ma gave me a mysterious smile as I opened the door to leave the house. Something was up, but I didn't know what.
Outside, I became even more dismayed. There in front of the house was the work team, already hitched to the big sled. Whatever it was we were going to do wasn't going to be a short, quick, little job. I could tell. We never hitched up this sled unless we were going to haul a big load.
Pa was already up on the seat, reins in hand. I reluctantly climbed up beside him. The cold was already biting at me. I wasn't happy. When I was on, Pa pulled the sled around the house and stopped in front of the woodshed. He got off and I followed. "I think we'll put on the high sideboards," he said. "Here, help me." The high sideboards! It had been a bigger job than I wanted to do with just the low sideboards on, but whatever it was we were going to do would be a lot bigger with the high sideboards on.
After we had exchanged the sideboards, Pa went into the woodshed and came out with an armload of wood---the wood I'd spent all summer hauling down from the mountain, and then all Fall sawing into blocks and splitting. What was he doing? Finally I said something. "Pa," I asked, "what are you doing?"
You been by the Widow Jensen's lately?" he asked.
The Widow Jensen lived about two miles down the road. Her husband had died a year or so before and left her with three children, the oldest being eight. Sure, I'd been by, but so what? "Yeah," I said, "Why?"
"I rode by just today," Pa said. "Little Jakey was out digging around in the woodpile trying to find a few chips. They're out of wood, Matt."
That was all he said and then he turned and went back into the woodshed for another armload of wood. I followed him. We loaded the sled so high that I began to wonder if the horses would be able to pull it. Finally, Pa called a halt to our loading, then we went to the smoke house and Pa took down a big ham and a side of bacon. He handed them to me and told me to put them in the sled and wait.
When he returned he was carrying a sack of flour over his right shoulder and a smaller sack of something in his left hand. "What's in the little sack?" I asked.
"Shoes. They're out of shoes. Little Jakey just had gunny sacks wrapped around his feet when he was out in the woodpile this morning. I got the children a little candy too. It just wouldn't be Christmas without a little candy."
We rode the two miles to Widow Jensen's pretty much in silence. I tried to think through what Pa was doing. We didn't have much by worldly standards. Of course, we did have a big woodpile, though most of what was left now was still in the form of logs that I would have to saw into blocks and split before we could use it. We also had meat and flour, so we could spare that, but I knew we didn't have any money, so why was Pa buying them shoes and candy?
Really, why was he doing any of this? Widow Jensen had closer neighbors than us; it shouldn't have been our concern. We came in from the blind side of the Jensen house and unloaded the wood as quietly as possible, then we took the meat and flour and shoes to the door. We knocked. The door opened a crack and a timid voice said, "Who is it?"
"Lucas Miles, Ma'am, and my son, Matt. Could we come in for a bit?"
Widow Jensen opened the door and let us in. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The children were wrapped in another and were sitting in front of the fireplace by a very small fire that hardly gave off any heat at all. Widow Jensen fumbled with a match and finally lit the lamp. "We brought you a few things, Ma'am," Pa said and set down the sack of flour. I put the meat on the table. Then Pa handed her the sack that had the shoes in it.
She opened it hesitantly and took the shoes out one pair at a time. There was a pair for her and one for each of the children---sturdy shoes, the best, shoes that would last. I watched her carefully. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and then tears filled her eyes and started running down her cheeks. She looked up at Pa like she wanted to say something, but it wouldn't come out.
"We brought a load of wood too, Ma'am," Pa said. He turned to me and said, "Matt, go bring in enough to last awhile. Let's get that fire up to size and heat this place up." I wasn't the same person when I went back out to bring in the wood. I had a big lump in my throat and as much as I hate to admit it, there were tears in my eyes too.
In my mind I kept seeing those three kids huddled around the fireplace and their mother standing there with tears running down her cheeks with so much gratitude in her heart that she couldn't speak. My heart swelled within me and a joy that I'd never known before, filled my soul. I had given at Christmas many times before, but never when it had made so much difference. I could see we were literally saving the lives of these people.
I soon had the fire blazing and everyone's spirits soared. The kids started giggling when Pa handed them each a piece of candy and Widow Jensen looked on with a smile that probably hadn't crossed her face for a long time. She finally turned to us. "God bless you," she said. "I know the Lord has sent you. The children and I have been praying that he would send one of his angels to spare us."
In spite of myself, the lump returned to my throat and the tears welled up in my eyes again. I'd never thought of Pa in those exact terms before, but after Widow Jensen mentioned it I could see that it was probably true. I was sure that a better man than Pa had never walked the earth. I started remembering all the times he had gone out of his way for Ma and me, and many others. The list seemed endless as I thought on it.
Pa insisted that everyone try on the shoes before we left. I was amazed when they all fit and I wondered how he had known what sizes to get. Then I guessed that if he was on an errand for the Lord that the Lord would make sure he got the right sizes.
Tears were running down Widow Jensen's face again when we stood up to leave. Pa took each of the kids in his big arms and gave them a hug. They clung to him and didn't want us to go. I could see that they missed their Pa, and I was glad that I still had mine.
At the door Pa turned to Widow Jensen and said, "The Mrs. wanted me to invite you and the children over for Christmas dinner tomorrow. The turkey will be more than the three of us can eat, and a man can get cantankerous if he has to eat turkey for too many meals. We'll be by to get you about eleven. It'll be nice to have some little ones around again. Matt, here, hasn't been little for quite a spell." I was the youngest. My two brothers and two sisters had all married and had moved away.
Widow Jensen nodded and said, "Thank you, Brother Miles. I don't have to say, "'May the Lord bless you,' I know for certain that He will."
Out on the sled I felt a warmth that came from deep within and I didn't even notice the cold. When we had gone a ways, Pa turned to me and said, "Matt, I want you to know something. Your ma and me have been tucking a little money away here and there all year so we could buy that rifle for you, but we didn't have quite enough. Then yesterday a man who owed me a little money from years back came by to make things square. Your ma and me were real excited, thinking that now we could get you that rifle, and I started into town this morning to do just that. But on the way I saw little Jakey out scratching in the woodpile with his feet wrapped in those gunny sacks and I knew what I had to do. Son, I spent the money for shoes and a little candy for those children. I hope you understand."
I understood, and my eyes became wet with tears again. I understood very well, and I was so glad Pa had done it. Now the rifle seemed very low on my list of priorities. Pa had given me a lot more. He had given me the look on Widow Jensen's face and the radiant smiles of her three children.
For the rest of my life, Whenever I saw any of the Jensen's, or split a block of wood, I remembered, and remembering brought back that same joy I felt riding home beside Pa that night. Pa had given me much more than a rifle that night, he had given me the best Christmas of my life.

~by Rian B. Anderson~

The Two Figures of Jesus

The Two Figures of Jesus

About a week before Christmas, Mom bought a new nativity scene. When She
unpacked it, she found two figures of the Baby Jesus. "Someone must Have
packed this wrong," mother said, counting out the figures. "We have One
Joseph, one Mary, three wise men, three shepherds, two lambs, a donkey,
a cow, an angel, and two babies. Oh, dear! I suppose some set down at
the store is missing a Baby Jesus because we have two." "You two run
back down to the store and tell the manager that we have an extra Jesus.
Tell him to put a sign on the remaining boxes saying that if a set is
missing a Baby Jesus, call 7126. Put on your warm coats, it's freezing
cold out there."

The manager of the store copied down mother's message, and the next time
We were in the store, we saw the cardboard sign that read, "If you're
missing Baby Jesus, call 7126." All week long we waited for someone to
call.

Surely, we thought, someone was missing that important figurine. Each
time the phone rang, mother would say, "I'll bet that's about Jesus."
But it never was.

Father tried to explain there are thousands of these scattered over The
country, and the figurine could be missing from a set in Florida or
Texas or California. Those packing mistakes happen all the time. He
suggested That she just put the extra Jesus back in the box and forget
about it.

"Put Baby Jesus back in the box?! What a terrible thing to do," said
mother. "Surely someone will call. We'll just keep the two of them
together in the manger until someone does." When no call had come by
5:00 on Christmas Eve, mother insisted that father "just run down to the
store" to see if there were any sets left. "You can see them right
through the window, over on the counter," she said. "If they are all
gone, I'll know someone is bound to call tonight." "Run down to the
store?" father thundered. "It's 15 below zero out there!" "Oh, daddy,
we'll go with you!" We began to put on our coats.

Father gave a long sigh and headed for the front closet. "I can't
believe I'm doing this," he muttered. We ran ahead as father reluctantly
walked out in The cold. Tommy got to the store first and pressed his
nose up to the store window. "They're all gone, Daddy," he shouted.
"Every set must be sold. Hooray! The mystery will be solved tonight!"
Father heard the news still a half block away and immediately turned on
his heel and headed back home. When we got back into the house, we
noticed that mother was gone and so was the extra Baby Jesus figurine.
"Someone must have called, and she went out to deliver the figurine,"
father reasoned, pulling off his boots.

"You kids get ready for bed while I wrap mother's present." Then the
phone rang. Father yelled "answer the phone and tell 'em we found a home
for Jesus." But it was mother calling with instructions for us to come
to 205 Chestnut Street immediately, and bring three blankets, a box of
cookies and Some milk.. "Now what has she gotten us into?" father
groaned as we Bundled up again. "205 Chestnut. Why that's across town.
Wrap that milk up good In the blankets, or it will turn to ice before we
get there. Why can't we all just get on with Christmas? It's probably 20
below out there now. And the wind is picking up. Of all the crazy things
to do on a night like this."

When we got to the house at 205 Chestnut Street, it was the darkest one
on the block. Only one tiny light burned in the living room, and the
moment we set foot on the porch steps, mother opened the door and
shouted, "They're here! Oh thank God you got here, Ray! You kids take
those blankets into the living room and wrap up the little ones on the
couch. I'll take the milk and cookies."

"Would you mind telling me what is going on, Ethel?" father asked. "We
have just walked through below zero weather with the wind in our faces
all the way."

"Never mind all that now," mother interrupted. "There is no heat in this
house, and this young mother is so upset, she doesn't know what to do.
Her husband walked out on her, and those poor little children will have
a very bleak Christmas, so don't you complain. I told her you could fix
that oil furnace in a jiffy. My mother strode off to the kitchen to warm
the milk while my brother and I wrapped up the five little children who
were huddled together on the couch. The children's mother explained to
my father that her husband had run off, taking bedding, clothing, and
almost every piece of furniture, but she had been doing all right until
the furnace broke down.

"I been doin' washin' an ironin' for people and cleanin' the five and
dime," she said. "I saw your number every day there, on those boxes on
the counter. When the furnace went out, that number kept goin' through
my mind. 7162, 7162 "Said on the box that if a person was missin' Jesus,
they should call you. That's how I knew you were good Christian people,
willin' to help folks. I figured that maybe you would help me, too. So I
stopped at the grocery store tonight, and I called your missus. I'm not
missin' Jesus, mister, because I sure love the Lord. But I am missin'
heat. I have no money to fix that furnace."

"Okay, okay," said father. "You've come to the right place. Now let's
see. You've got a little oil burner over there in the dining room.
Shouldn't be too hard to fix. Probably just a clogged flue. I'll look it
over, see what it needs." Mother came into the living room carrying a
plate of cookies and warm milk. As she set the cups down on the coffee
table, noticed the figure of Baby Jesus lying in the center of the
table. It was the only sign of Christmas in the house. The children
stared wide-eyed with wonder at the plate of cookies my mother set
before them. Father finally got the oil burner working but said, "You
need more oil. I'll make a few calls tonight and get some oil. Yes sir,
you came to the right place."

Father grinned. On the way home, father did not complain about the cold
weather and had barely set foot inside the door when he was on the
phone. "Ed, hey, how are ya, Ed? Yes, Merry Christmas to you, too. Say
Ed, we have kind of an unusual situation here. I know you've got that
pick-up truck. Do you still have some oil in that barrel on your truck?
You do?" By this time the rest of the family was pulling clothes out of
their closets and toys off of their shelves. It was long after our
bedtime when we were wrapping gifts. The pickup came. On it were chairs,
three lamps, blankets and gifts. Even though it was 30 below, father let
us ride along in the back of the truck.

No one ever did call about the missing figure in the nativity set, but
as I have grown older I realize that it wasn't a packing mistake after all.

Friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.....love and prayers, sis katie.

WOW!!!!!

Dear Children,

It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of you're predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival; although, I do appreciate being remembered anytime.

How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth just, GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Now, having said that let Me go on.

If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town.

Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can and may remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching that explains who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks are. If you have forgot that one, look at John 15:1-8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it.

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of writing George W. complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the story of My birth and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile it could make the difference. Also, you might consider supporting the local Hot-Line: they talk with people like that every day.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary, especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name. You may already know someone like that.

9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them (and I suspect you don't) buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Marines, the Salvation Army or some other charity that believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

10. Finally if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence. Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine.

P.S. Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court. And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those you love and, remember, I LOVE YOU.

I Refuse to be DISCOURAGED

I Refuse to be DISCOURAGED

I refuse to be discouraged,
To be sad, or to cry;
I refuse to be downhearted,
and here's the reason why...

I have a God who's mighty,
Who's sovereign and supreme;
I have a God who loves me,
and I am on His team.

He is all wise and powerful,
Jesus is His name;
Though everything is changeable,
My God remains the same.

My God knows all that's happening;
Beginning to the end,
His presence is my comfort,
He is my dearest friend.

When sickness comes to weaken me,
To bring my head down low,
I call upon my mighty God;
Into His arms I go.

When circumstances threaten
to rob me from my peace;
He draws me close unto His breast,
Where all my strivings cease.

And when my heart melts within me,
and weakness takes control;
He gathers me into His arms,
He soothes my heart and soul.

The great "I AM" is with me,
My life is in His hand,
The "Son of the Lord" is my hope,
It's in His strength I stand.

I refuse to be defeated,
My eyes are on my God;
He has promised to be with me,
as through this life I trod.

I'm looking past all my circumstances,
To Heaven's throne above;
My prayers have reached
the heart of God,
I'm resting in His love.

I give God thanks in everything,
My eyes are on His face;
The battle's His, the victory is mine;
He'll help me win the race.

love and prayers, sis katie

DON'T FALL PREY TO SATAN'S SCHEMES!

1 CHRONICLES 21:1-3

And Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel.
And David said to Joab and to the rulers of the people, Go, number Israel from Beersheba even to Dan; and bring the number of them to me, that I may know it.
And Joab answered, The LORD make his people an hundred times so many more as they be: but, my lord the king, are they not all my lord's servants? why then doth my lord require this thing? why will he be a cause of trespass to Israel?

David fell to Satan's temptation. God provided a way out in Joab's counsel, but David's curiosity was spurred on by arrogance. His faith was in his own strength rather than in God's. If we feel self-sufficient and put confidence in ourselves apart from God, we soon fall to Satan's schemes. Self-sufficiency pulls us away from God. When you are tempted, examine your inner desires to understand why the external temptation is so appealing.

(1 Corinthians 10:13 There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man: but God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able; but will with the temptation also make a way to escape, that ye may be able to bear it).

HAPPY FRIDAY....sis katie

SATAN—THE MASTER TEMPTER!

1 CHRONICLES 21:1
And Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel.

The Bible text says Satan caused David to take a census. Can Satan force people to do wrong? No! (This dispels the Satan made me do it excuse) Satan only tempted David with the idea, but David decided to act on the temptation. Ever since the Garden of Eden, Satan has been tempting people to sin. David's census was not against God's law, but his reason for the census was wrong—pride in his mighty army. He forgot that his real strength came from God. Even Joab, not known for his high moral ideals, recognized the census as sin. From David's example we learn that an action that may not be wrong in itself can be sinful if it is motivated by greed, arrogance, or selfishness. Often our motives, not the action itself, contain the sin. We must constantly weigh our motives before we act.

Please Lord, help to fall on my knees and consult you.....

Daily Manna For Thought - Wednesday, November 15, 2006

THERE IS NO PLACE FOR SELF-PRIDE IN GOD'S ARMY!

1 CHRONICLES 21:1
And Satan stood up against Israel, and provoked David to number Israel.

David's census brought disaster because, unlike the census taken in the book of Numbers (Numbers 1-2) that God had ordered, this census was taken so David could take pride in the strength of the army. In determining his military strength, he was beginning to trust more in military power than in God. There is a fine line between feeling confident because you are relying on God's power and becoming proud because you have been used by God for great purposes.

A story is told of a preacher who held a meeting in the southwest.
At one point in his sermon, the old minister spoke of Simon of Cyrene and asked the audience to determine in their own hearts their reaction to that scene.
Just then a young boy came walking up the aisle, with serious determination in his eyes. The preacher stopped speaking and the congregation was as quiet as death.
“You asked what I would have done if I had been in the crowd when Jesus fell under the weight of His cross.” He looked earnestly up at the preacher. “Sir, I would have helped Him carry it.” He was a Mexican boy around nine years old. His father was a miner and his mother was an outcast.
The minister lifted his arm and cried: “Yes, and if you had helped him to carry his cross, the cruel Roman soldiers would have beaten down across your back with their whips until the blood ran down to your heels.” He never flinched. Meeting the preacher’s look with one of cool courage, he replied through clenched teeth? “I don’t care. I would have helped Him carry it just the same.” Two weeks later, at the close of the service, the old preacher stood at the door, greeting people as they left. When the little boy, Pedro, came by he patted him affectionately on the back. Pedro pulled away with a little cry. “Please don’t do that. My back is sore.” The preacher stood astonished; he had barely touched his shoulders. He took him to a room and removed his shirt. Crisscrossed from his neck to his waist were ugly bloody welts. “Who did that?” the preacher cried in anger. “Mother did it. She whipped me because I came to church.”
Luke 14:27 “And whosoever doth not bear his cross, and come after me, cannot be my disciple.”
2 Timothy 3:12 “Yea, and all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution.”
1 Timothy 4:10 “For therefore we both labor and suffer reproach, because we trust in the living God, who is the Savior of all men, specially of those that believe.”
1 Peter 3:14-17 “But and if ye suffer for righteousness’ sake, happy are ye: and be not afraid of their terror, neither be troubled; but sanctify the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear: Having a good conscience; that, whereas they speak evil of you, as of evildoers, they may be ashamed that falsely accuse your good conversation in Christ. For it is better, if the will of God be so, that ye suffer for well doing than for evil doing.”
There is no questioning if we will suffer, for the Word of God is clear, that in bearing our cross we will suffer, but it also tells us be not afraid and neither be troubled. We trust in a living God that will take care of his people.
2 Corinthians 4:8-9 “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed: we are perplexed, but not in despair: Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed:”
2 Timothy 1:7 “For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.”
Yet, we question why we suffer. The Word of God answers this question. We suffer that others might be able to find Salvation through how we live with our suffering.
2 Corinthians 4:10 “Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.”
2 Timothy 2:10 “Therefore I endure all things for the elect’s sakes, that they may also obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.”
Let everyone ask themselves the same question every day. Am I willing to suffer for the cause of Christ? If I am then I must remember the words of Christ.
2 Corinthians 12:9 “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (Author Unknown)

Oh, My God, here we are being torn apart by what he said/she said....can't we take our eyes off of ourselves and each other and put them on you? Can't we do as this little boy did, serve you no matter what?
Oh mighty God, forgive me and help me to look through your eyes instead of my own and everyone elses.

Please Pray

Please pray for the same family member that underwent the sugery in Oct. They have just discovered more cancer cells...this means Chemo....then radiation....thank you.

Inspirational Story

One day, when I was a freshman in high school,

I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school.

His name was Kyle.

It looked like he was carrying all of his
books.

I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a
Friday?

He must really be a nerd."

I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my
friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him.

They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping
him so he landed in the dirt.

His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten
feet from him.

He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes

My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled
around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye.

As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. "

They really should get lives.

" He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!"

There was a big smile on his face.

It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude.

I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived.

As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen
him before.

He said he had gone to private school before now.

I would have never hung out with a private school kid before.

We talked all the way home, and I carried some of his books.

He turned out to be a pretty cool kid.

I asked him if he wanted to play a little football with my friends

He said yes.

We hung out all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I
liked him, and my friends thought the same of him.

Monday morning came! , and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books
again.

I stopped him and said, "Boy, you are gonna really build some serious
muscles with this pile of books everyday!

" He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends.

When we were seniors, we began to think
about college.

Kyle decided on Georgetown , and I
was going to Duke.

I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a
problem.

He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football
scholarship.

Kyle was valedictorian of our class.

I teased him all the time about being a nerd.

He had to prepare a speech for graduation.

I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak

Graduation day, I saw Kyle.

He looked great.

He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school.


He filled out and actually looked good in glasses.

He had more dates than I had and all the girls loved him.

Boy, sometimes I was jealous.
!
Today was one of those days.

I could see that he was nervous about his speech.

So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be
great!"

He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and
smiled.

" Thanks," he said.

As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began

"Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through
those tough years.

Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach...but mostly
your friends...

I am here to tell all of you that being a
friend to someone is the best gift you can give them.

I am going to tell you a story."

I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the
first day we met.

He had planned to kill himself over the weekend.

He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have
to do it later and was carrying his stuff home.

He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile.

"Thankfully, I was saved.

My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy
told us all about his weakest moment.

I saw his Mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful
smile.

Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions.

With one small gesture you can change a person's life.

For better or for worse.

God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some
way.
God Bless you all, this day, may your lives glorify God and be
a witness to those around you....love and prayers, sis kd.

Good Morning one and all....
I have a prayer request this morning for one of my nursing home ladies. Her name is Trudy, she is facing colon surgery on the 10th of November....and her 46 year old son is facing the same thing....they are both born again believers....please pray for these needs, as the Lord brings them to mind....thank you...

HOLA

Hello one and all....It has been awhile since blogging last.
So many things have happened. Happy things, learning things, quiet times, sad times.
But, the Lord has been there in all of them, helping me, holding me, guiding me.
This is my favorite time of year....The horses are getting heavy coats. The flowers have such vibrant colors....It is nice and cool at night but still warm during the day, oh, and the leaves what a beautiful color palette the Lord has made for His children to enjoy. It is a time to appreciate all the blessings we have been given. It is a time to bundle up in front of the wood stove, read your bible, ponder the things of the Lord and to reflect on Him. It is a time to go to the orchard and get apples then bring them home, wash them up, then dip them in caramel. It is a time to pop corn and settle in for an evening of enjoying the company of friends and fellow shipping with brothers and sisters......I love this time of year.
I have missed blogging, I have missed reading blogs. For right now, I am back for a season....Love and prayers, sis katie.

Praise the Lord

Thank you Saints for praying.
My family member had their surgery as scheduled on Monday. Everything went well.
They have been released from the hosp....thank you for praying for my loved one.
Sis Katie

Mr Miller

Babs Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed
a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily
apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of
fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes.
Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation
between
Mr.Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

"Hello Barry, how are you today?"

"H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas.
Sure
look good."

"They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

"Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

"Good. Anything I can help you with?"

"No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

"Would you like to take some home?"

"No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

"Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

"All I got's my prize marble here."

"Is that right? Let me see it."

"Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

"I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I
sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

"Not zackley. but almost."

"Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next
trip this way let me look at that red marble."

"Sure will Thanks Mr. Miller."


Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help
me.
With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our
community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to
bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they
come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he
doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce
for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man.
A
short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of
this man, the boys, and their bartering.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one.
Just
recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho
community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They
were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to
go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell
into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever
words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army
uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white
shirts...all very professional looking.

They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by
her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on
the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each
young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold
pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his
eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and
mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes
glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket

"Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you
about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded"
them.
Now,at last,when Jim could not change his mind about color or
size....they came to pay their debt."

"We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,"
she
confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in
Idaho "

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her
deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red
marbles.

Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our
kind
deeds.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the
moments that take our breath.

Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles..A fresh pot of
coffee you didn't make yourself. An unexpected phone call from an old
friend.
Green
stoplights on your way to work. The fastest line at the grocery store.
A
good sing-along song on the radio. Your keys right where you left them.


Hello all....love and prayers, sis katie.

Please Pray

You have heard the old addage.....you only phone home when you want or need something.
It is Sunday morning, I have a family member who needs prayer. This family
member is not saved.
This family member is facing a surgery followed by radiation treatments....within the next two weeks.
The Dr's say there is a 85 percent cure rate.......thank you for praying....love and prayers, sis katie.

Information Please...

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother used to talk to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person - her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing she did not know. "Information Please" could supply anybody's number and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.

The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the foot stool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear. "Information"

"I hurt my finger..." I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was unconsoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please."

"Information," said the now familiar voice.

"How do you spell fix?" I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much.

"Information Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information."

I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."

I laughed. "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time."

"I wonder", she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered "Information."

I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" She said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this", she said. "Sally had been working part- time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"

"Yes."

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you."

The note said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.



***** Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.
Whose life have you touched today??? *****

FORGIVEN

I found Grace in the eyes of the Savior
My Life has been touched by the King!
Oh what Love could look beyond such a sinner?
But the love that eternity brings!


So I stand now in the shadows of Mercy
He's brought Peace beyond compare,
May 10,000 Angels sing all His praises!
For someday, I'll sing with them there.


Why He chose to reach down and touch me
It's a miracle no one could explain,
Oh the gratitude I hope now to show Him
Flows more than the drops of rain!


Praise His name from the tallest mountain!
Let it show that we walk with Him!
Stand tall against all that is evil
That peace flow through our hearts again!


I'm forgiven and so unworthy
Forgiven and Loved by Him!
He looked down from Heaven and touched me!
Now my Life has been Born Again!

Ephesians 4:32
And be ye kind one to another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven you.

Love and prayers, sis katie.

Even if it's Dark

He was a strong man facing an enemy beyond his strength. His young wife had become gravely ill, then suddenly passed away, leaving the big man alone with a wide-eyed, flaxen girl, not quite five years old.
The service in the village chapel was simple, and heavy with grief. After the burial at the cemetery, the man's neighbors gathered around him. "Please bring your little girl and stay with us for several days," someone said. "You shouldn't go back home just yet."
Broken-hearted though he was, the man answered, "Thank you, friends, for the kind offer. But we need to go back home--where she was. My baby and I must face this."
So they returned, the big man and his little girl, to what now seemed an empty, lifeless house. The man brought his daughter's little bed into his room, so they could face the first dark night together.
As the minutes slipped by that night, the young girl was having a dreadful time going to sleep...and so was her father. What could pierce a man's heart deeper than a child sobbing for a mother who would never come back?
Long into the night the little one continued to weep. The big man reached out into her bed and tried to comfort her as best he could. After a while, the little girl managed to stop crying--but only out of sorrow for her father. Thinking his daughter was asleep, the father looked up and said brokenly, "I trust You, Father, but...it's as dark as midnight!"
Hearing her dad's prayer, the little girl began to cry again.
"I thought you were asleep, baby," he said.
"Papa, I did try. I was sorry for you. I did try. But---I couldn't go to sleep. Papa, did you ever know it could be so dark? Why Papa? I can't even see you, it's so dark." Then, through her tears, the little girl whispered, "But you love me, even if it's dark--don't you, Papa?" You love me even if I don't see you, don't you, Papa?"
For an answer, the big man reached across with his massive hands, lifted his little girl out of her bed, brought her over onto his chest, and held her, until at last she felt asleep.
When she was finally quiet, he began to pray. He took his little girl's cry to him and passed it up to God.
"Father, it's dark as midnight. I can't see You at all. But You love
me even when it's dark and I can't see, don't You?"
From that blackest of hours, the Lord touched him with new strength, enabling him to carry on. He knew that God went on loving him, even in the dark.
Psalm 30:5b weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.
Love and prayers, sis katie.

Prayer

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 rebuked 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.

When Jesus died on the cross he was thinking of you!

Brothers and Sisters in the Lord....I love you and am Praying for you.....sis katie.

Words to Live by

The best kind of friend is the kind you can sit on a porch and swing with, never say a word, and then walk away feeling like it was the best conversation you've ever had.


It's true that we don't know what we've got until we lose it, but it's also true that we don't know what we've been missing until it arrives.

Giving someone all your love is never an assurance that they'll love you back! Don't expect love in return; just wait for it to grow in their heart but if it doesn't, be content it grew in yours. It takes only a minute to get a crush on someone, an hour to like someone, and a day to love someone, but it takes a lifetime to forget someone.

Don't go for looks; they can deceive. Don't go for wealth; even that fades away. Go for someone who makes you smile because it takes only a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Find the one that makes your heart smile.

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to make you happy.

Always put yourself in others' shoes. If you feel that it hurts you, it probably hurts the other person, too.

The happiest of people don't necessarily have the best of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along their way.

Happiness lies for those who cry, those who hurt, those who have searched, and those who have tried, for only they can appreciate the importance of people who have touched their lives.

When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live your life so that when you die, you're the one who is smiling and everyone around you is crying.

Good Morning Bloggers, have a blessed day in HIM.

The Storm

Years ago, a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast.

He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were

reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the

awful storms that raged across the Atlantic, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops.


As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received

A steady stream of refusals.

Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached

the farmer. "Are you a good farm hand?" the farmer asked him.


"Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help,

Hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from

dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the man's work.


Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore.

Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed

next door to the hired hand's sleeping quarters. He shook the

little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming!

Tie things down before they blow away!"


The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No
sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows."

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on

the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm.


To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had

been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred.

The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down.


Nothing could blow away. The farmer then understood what his

hired hand meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while

the wind blew.





When you're prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically,

you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the

wind blows through your life?


The hired hand in the story was able to sleep because he

had secured the farm against the storm.


We secure ourselves against the storms of life by
grounding ourselves in the Word of God.

We don't need to understand, we just need to hold

His hand to have peace in the middle of storms.

Hello Bloggers...it has been awhile since last post,
sorry about that. I do my posting at work. We are in
the midst of Federal buying season, so needless to say,
I am swamped here. I have very little extra time to post
let alone read right now. Love and prayers to all.

Tiny Frogs

Once upon a time there was a bunch of tiny frogs.... who arranged a running competition.

The goal was to reach the top of a very high tower.

A big crowd had gathered around the tower to see the race and cheer on the contestants....

The race began....

Honestly:

No one in the crowd really believed that the tiny frogs would reach the top of the tower.

You heard statements such as:

"Oh, WAY too difficult!!"

"They will NEVER make it to the top."

or:

"Not a chance that they will succeed. The tower is too high!"


The tiny frogs began collapsing. One by one....

Except for those, who in a fresh tempo, were climbing higher and higher..

The crowd continued to yell, "It is too difficult!!! No one will make it!"

More tiny frogs got tired and gave up....

But ONE continued higher and higher and higher....

This one wouldn't give up!

At the end everyone else had given up climbing the tower. Except for the one tiny frog who, after a big effort, was the only one who reached the top!

THEN all of the other tiny frogs naturally wanted to know how this one frog managed to do it?

A contestant asked the tiny frog how he had found the strength to succeed and reach the goal?

It turned out....

That the winner was DEAF!!!!





The wisdom of this story is:

Never listen to other people's tendencies to be

negative or pessimistic.... because they take your most wonderful dreams and wishes away from you -- the ones you have in your heart!

Always think of the power words have. (Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.
- Proverbs 18:21.)

Because everything you hear and read will affect your actions!

Therefore:

ALWAYS be....

POSITIVE!

And above all:

Be DEAF when people tell YOU that you cannot fulfill your dreams!

Always think:

God and I can do this!

Love and prayers, Sis Katie.

18 Gems of Wisdom

1) God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.

2) Dear God, I have a problem-- it's me.

3) There is no key to happiness. The door is always open.

4) Silence is often misinterpreted, but never misquoted.

5) Do the math.... count Your blessings.

6) Faith is the ability to not panic.

7) Laugh every day; it's like inner jogging.

8) If you worry, you didn't pray. If you pray, don't worry.

9) As a child of God, prayer is kind of like calling home everyday.

10) Blessed are the flexible for they shall not be bent out of shape.

11) The most important things in your home are the people.

12) When we get tangled up in our problems, be still so God can untangle the knot.

13) A grudge is a heavy thing to carry.

14) He who dies with the most possessions is still dead.

15) We do not remember days, but moments.

16) It's all right to sit on your pity pot every now and again. Just be sure to flush when you are done.

17) Learn from the turtle, it only makes progress when it sticks out its neck.

18) Never mind learning the tricks of the trade, just learn the trade.

Love to one and all, have a blessed day and rejoice in knowing that our God is
still on the throne and STILL in CONTROL!

A Different Type of Prayer

Heavenly Father, Help us remember that the jerk who cut us off in traffic last night is a single mother who worked nine hours that day and was rushing home to cook dinner, help with homework, do the laundry and spend a few precious moments with her children.


Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man who can't make change correctly is a worried 19-year-old college student, balancing his apprehension over final exams with his fear of not getting his student loans for next semester.


Remind us, Lord, that the scary looking bum, begging for money in the same spot every day (who really ought to get a job)! is a slave to addictions that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.

Help us to remember that the old couple walking annoyingly slow through the store aisles and blocking our shopping progress are savoring this moment, knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week, this will be the last year that they go shopping together.

Heavenly Father, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us, the greatest gift is love. It is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear. Open our hearts not just to those who are close to us but to all humanity. Let us be slow to judgment and quick to forgiveness and patience and empathy and love.

God Bless each and everyone who comes to this blog today......have a wonderful weekend in HIM.

Sunday Drive

>Sitting on the side of the highway waiting to catch
>speeding drivers, a State Police Officer sees a car
>puttering along at 22 MPH.
>
>He thinks to himself, "This driver is just as dangerous
>as a speeder!" So he turns on his lights and pulls the
>driver over.
>
>Approaching the car, he notices that there are five little
old ladies-two in the front seat and three in the back. They
-are wide eyed and white as ghosts. The driver, obviously
>confused, says to him, "Officer, I don't understand, I
>was doing exactly the speed limit! What seems to be the
>problem?"
>
>"Ma'am," the officer replies, "you weren't speeding,
>but you should know that driving slower than the speed
>limit can also be a danger to other drivers."
>
>"Slower than the speed limit? No sir, I was doing the
>speed limit exactly...Twenty- two miles an hour!" the
>old woman says a bit proudly.
>
>The State Police officer, trying to contain a chuckle
>explains to her that "22" was the route number, not the
>speed limit.
>A bit embarrassed, the woman grinned and thanked the
>officer for pointing out her error.
>
>"But before I let you go, Ma'am, I have to ask... Is
>everyone in this car OK? These women seem awfully
>shaken and they haven't muttered a single peep this
>whole time," the officer asks with concern.
>
>"Oh, they'll be all right in a minute officer. We just
>got off Route 119."

When I got all of Jesus back where He belonged.

A father wanted to read a magazine but was being bothered by his
little girl, Shelby. She wanted to know what the United States looked
like. Finally, he tore a sheet out of his new magazine on which was
printed the map of the country. Tearing it into small pieces, he gave it
to Shelby, and said, "Go into the other room and see if you can put this
together. This will show you our whole country today."

After a few minutes, Shelby returned and handed him the map correctly
fitted together. The father was surprised and asked how she had
finished so quickly. "Oh," she said, "on the other side of the paper is
a picture of Jesus. When I got all of Jesus back where He belonged, then
our country just came together."

AMEN.

Grandpa's Hands

Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK.

He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him.

"Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at your hands?"

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making. Grandpa smiled and related this story:

"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.

They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.

They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.

As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer.

They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.

They held my rifle and wiped my tears when I went off to war.

They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.

They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.

They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle.

Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot.

They have held children, consoled neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.

They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.

They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.

And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.

These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.

But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.

And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ ."

I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home.

When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and wife I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.

Thank you Lord, for giving me these hands, to Praise you, to comfort others, to steady my aging mother, to hold my doggies and caress my horses, to shake another hand. I love you Lord, and I know whatever lays ahead, I am in your hands.

Who Packed Your Parachute?

Charles Plumb was a U.S. Navy jet pilot in Vietnam.
> After 75 combat missions, his plane was destroyed
> by a surface-to-air missile. Plumb ejected and
> parachuted into enemy hands. He was captured
> and spent 6 years in a communist Vietnamese prison.
> He survived the ordeal and now lectures on lessons
> learned from that experience.
>
> One day, when Plumb and his wife were sitting
> in a restaurant, a man at another table came up
> and said, "You're Plumb! You flew jet fighters in
> Vietnam from the aircraft carrier Kitty Hawk.
> You were shot down!"
>
> "How in the world did you know that?" asked Plumb.
> "I packed your parachute," the man replied.
> Plumb gasped in surprise and gratitude.
>
> The man pumped his hand and said, "I guess it worked!"
> Plumb assured him, "It sure did. If your chute hadn't
> worked, I wouldn't be here today."
>
> Plumb couldn't sleep that night, thinking about that man.
> Plumb says, "I kept wondering what he might have looked
> like in a Navy uniform: a white hat, a bib in the back,
> and bell-bottom trousers. I wonder how many times I
> might have seen him and not even said 'Good morning,
> how are you?' or anything because, you see, I was a
> fighter pilot and he was just a sailor."
>
> Plumb thought of the many hours the sailor had spent
> on a long wooden table in the bowels of the ship,
> carefully weaving the shrouds and folding the silks
> of each chute, holding in his hands each time
> the fate of someone he didn't know.
>
> Now, Plumb asks his audience, "Who's packing
> your parachute?" Everyone has someone who provides
> what they need to make it through the day. Plumb
> also points out that he needed many kinds of
> parachutes when his plane was shot down over enemy
> territory-he needed his physical parachute, his mental
> parachute, his emotional parachute, and his
> spiritual parachute. He called on all these
> supports before reaching safety.
>
> Sometimes in the daily challenges that life gives us,
> we miss what is really important. We may fail to
> say hello, please, or thank you, congratulate
> someone on something wonderful that has happened
> to them, give a compliment, or just do something
> nice for no reason.
>
> As you go through this week, this month, this year,
> recognize the people who packed your parachute.
Then Thank the Lord, that HE cares for you and that
HE is the one that ultimately packed your parachute!

Convention

What a blessing convention was this weekend. I so needed to hear all that was said. Messages on Restitution were great. We had approach 134 in attendance. Sis Rosemary from Caldwell Spanish delivered an outstanding message on "making things right, God's way". Bro Grant also had a great message on Restitution. We are in a time where the battle is fierce, souls are at stake...How do we win this spiritual battle? On our Knees.....I love you each and everyone. I look forward to someday hugging each and everyone's neck. God is so very good to us. I am so very appreciative that HE loves me enough to discipline me. Keep on the firing lines, dear Brothers and Sisters. BE encouraged....BE of good cheer. God is STILL in control...Much love and prayers to all.....WAHOO....GLORY to GOD!

Good Morning Bloggers, wishing you all a very blessed day today and remainder of week...love and prayers, sis katie.

Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock

Hello All, good to be back.
The time spent with my children was a blessing, it went by way to fast though.
Kasey filled you in on all the goings on, so will move on.
After dropping them off at airport we left to visit friends in Pocatello.
We went 4 wheeling both days we were there, had a great time. Nice to visit old friends.
Got back home Tues evening in time for Church. Seems like if I miss one service, I have missed a whole week, was good to be back and hug necks.
Back to work on Wed, was slammed!
Made Zucchini/banana bread last night. One for neighbor that baby sits my doggies and one for new neighbor....and of course one for Mr Leonard, he even complimented me on how good it was!
Thurs morning, 7:23 AM.
RISE and SHINE and Give GOD the GLORY, GLORY, RISE and SHINE and Give GOD the GLORY, GLORY, RISE and SHINE and Give GOD the GLORY, GLORY, Children of the Lord.
I love the Lord, I love His Mercy, His Grace, HIS LONG SUFFERING, but HE won't strive with Man always. . . I am reminded of what Bro Kevin said at camp...We make our choice, would we lift the lid and drop someone into hell? Do we want anyone to live face to face with the devil for eternity? Have I missed and opportunity to tell some one about Jesus, have you? Tick Tock, Tick Tock, time will not stand still.
Share the Blessing of Jesus with someone today....After all, didn't someone share HIM with you...?

Please Pray

Kasey was in an fender bender this afternoon. She was rear ended. She is fine, other than a headache. Please pray for them as they travel this way.
Happy Father's day.

Fair Maiden, Prince Charming, Princess in Waiting.

FYI...I will be off line from the 16th through the 27th. My children are coming home for a week..........WAHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! It seems as though it has been FOREVER since they were here last, only 6 months, sure seems longer.........I will try to check in and read your blogs.
I love you each and everyone and will continue to pray for you as the Lord leads.
I will miss you as I truly enjoy reading about and sharing the experiences you blog about your lives.
God Bless you and keep you, until we meet again...love and prayers, sis katie.

Please Pray

My nephew is 15 and has had his colon removed. He went in yesterday morning for some reconstructive surgery. Upon entry into his abdomen, they discovered that his intestines are kinked. They are not sure of why this is, could have been from birth. He was unkinked, then sewed back up. They will try again in 6 weeks to do the reconstruction. He is not saved. I love him dearly and want him to know the Lord.
Also my friend from Pocatello has stated that spiritual head way has been made with her daughter. Please pray for this daughter to totally and truly sell out to our Lord and precious Savior.
Let us all continue to pray that our overseers will come to unity one with another as they follow the leading and guiding of the Holy Ghost.
L&P, Sis Katie.

Back from CAMP

Well, it is good to be home. I have missed all of you and it has taken me all morning to get caught up with your blogs.
It has been 4 years since I have gone to family camp. What a blessing this camp was for me. I pray for those attending as well.
I LOVE our Spanish brothers and sisters. I have missed them SSSOOOOOOOOOOO much!
Our theme this year was Safari and "Hunt for Truth"!
Bro David and Sis Cathy Hendricks, as well as Bro Ted Kaufman from Montana, Bro Paul Pino from Lewiston and Sis Martha Gallivan from Nampa provided outstanding meals.
Our Deans, women, Sis Sybil Adams and Sis Korina, men, Bro Chuck Slack and Bro Oscar Pimentel, Our camp Evangelist was Bro Kevin Wilson.
I appreciate Bro Kevin, It was first time for me to set under his preaching. He doesn't sugar coat anything. He is a young man and he has a way of reaching the very young and old alike..Thank you Lord for Bro Kevin.
I learned some very interesting things about some Family camps from the past!
As the legend goes, there was a Family Camp held in McCall at a Camp Ground called Quaker Hill...It seems that one idustrious camper tied bed sheets together to sneak out the 2nd story window....Another legend goes about how a certain camper used to really enjoy helping with KP, especially the scraping of excess food off of the trays, until it was discovered that they were really using that KP as a cover for holding a certain boys hand under the food trough! Just those two for now!
I cannot remember the exact count, but I think it was in the neighbor hood of 78.
One of the camp highlights was when the 4 to 11 years olds went on a "safari". One of the guides who shall remain nameless, brought them around a bend and came across and crocodile pit, this paticular guide knowing the treachery of the situation leaped into the air and landed full body weight onto this crocodile and proceeded to wrestle him, till he was able to get the duck tape securely taped around his mouth! The brother of this guide had gone ahead and positioned this paticular blow up croc in a sort of muddy, watery hole, imagine the guides surprise when he found himself covered in MUD!
Another camp high light was when certain staff members were auctioned off to the highest bidder! What the campers didn't realize was what their true prize would be!
One camper for his $ received a 30 minute canoe trip around the lake....Gracie, ask Paul about this one!
Other campers pooled their funds and were able to purchase the kitchen staff, they received a box of twinkies, which had had different ingredients put into the center for unsuspecting campers to bite into, also they received a box of homemade goodies.
Our camp directors were auctioned off and their bidder received a very true rendition of a Sony and Cher classic, I've got you Babe! Hilarious. Of course it was heard that some of the campers were asking..."who is Sonny and Cher"!
This year we had our share of pranks, some of the more notable ones....the girls stole the shower curtains from the mens/boys bathrooms. Bro Chuck stated he was half awake this paticular morning when he realized he was in the shower looking directly across from the Camp Director...hee hee, he mentioned that it was a shocker! Some of the girls had their mattresses thrown up onto the cabins roof!
Yours truly was notified by the head cook that there was a special piece of cake for me, with extra whipping cream, this should have been my first tip off....but, I didn't get it, so i pick up my cake and even take it to the cook to make sure i had the correct one...i was enjoying the conversation at the table and noticed the kitchen staff facing be from across the dining hall, still didn't get it. Finally get ready for the cake and the whipped topping has slid off of cake so put it back on, still not figuring it out....then i start to spread whip cream so it is even on top of cake and hmmmmmmmmm, there is something different, like something hard, one of the cooks who shall remain nameless, had put a white gummy rat in my topping..................EEEEWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!
Of course all sorts of food pranks were played. Campers had everything taken from their cabins and relocated...i could go on, but I am sure you have all been there done that. ONE camper took his clear toothpaste and spread it on the toilet seats of the girls bathhouse....only thing is the first to get their was a staff member...she remarked that she hoped it wasn't super glue and then noticed this minty aroma!
The services were moving, we had one camper stand and testify that he had thought he was sanctified last year, but soon found out that he wasn't, this year he stood and said he had been sanctified. My bidder stood and testified that he had received the baptism of the Holy Ghost.
It was great fun and very Edifying as well. The time spent with brothers and sisters in the Lord was a total blessing....IT IS GOOD TO BE HOME.....

Off to CAMP.....WAHOO

Good Morning Bloggers....Isn't God good to us!
Here in about and hour and a half, I am off to camp! This will be the first year that I have gone to camp w/o Kasey. I am excited, yet realizing that all that we say and do have an impact. This year I am helping with the Childrens crafts. Our kids are SO precious, they are so pure, so honest, so trusting, I want to NEVER disillusion one of these little ones. Please pray for us as we travel, pray for our teachers and students, pray for our staff and mostly pray that everyone is coming ... EXPECTING a mighty move of the Lord.
We had a wonderful service last night. It was our Mission Service. I took our scriptures from Phil 4:8, Matt 5:16 and Phil 4:9. Basically talked about as the scripture states...Thinking on these things. How our thinking effects not only us, but those we come in contact with. How depending on what we think about that our light to this world can be diminished, and how if we think on the things of the Lord and not let our minds wander, that if we keep our minds and hearts stayed on the things of the Lord, that HE will guide us and direct us and how HE will enable us to get the job done that He has called each of us to do....What a privilege it is to work for the Lord. I am so thankful for HIS mercy, HIS grace and HIS long suffering.
Please keep my spouse in your prayers. He doesn't fare well, when he is home alone. I love him dearly and it is hard to go off and leave him, but I know that the Lord is EVEN able to care for him.....Love and prayers to all. until we meet blogging again...Happy trails, and God Bless.
'

The Whale

If you read the front page story of the SF Chronicle,
you would have read about a female humpback whale
who had become entangled in a spider web of crab traps
and lines.

She was weighted down by hundreds of pounds of traps that caused
her to struggle to stay afloat. She also had hundreds of yards of
line rope wrapped around her body, her tail, her torso, a line
tugging in her mouth.

A fisherman spotted her just east of the FarraloneIslands
(outside the Golden Gate) and radioed an environmental group for help.

Within a few hours, the rescue team arrived and determined that she was
so bad off, the only way to save her was to dive in and untangle her ...

A very dangerous proposition......One slap of the tail could kill a rescuer.

They worked for hours with curved knives and eventually freed her.

When she was free, the divers say she swam in what seemed like joyous circles.
She then came back to each and every diver, one at a time, and nudged them,
pushed gently around-she thanked them. Some said it was the most incredibly beautiful experience of their lives.

The guy who cut the rope out of her mouth says her eye was
following him the whole time, and he will never be the same.

May you, and all those you love,
be so blessed and fortunate
to be surrounded by people
who will help you get untangled
from the things that are binding you.

And, may you always know the joy
of giving and receiving gratitude.

Like this whale, we seem to get ourselves at time, "tangled"!
So this day, Thank the Lord for HIS mercy and grace and say
a prayer for those in your life who have been a faithful
friend, prayer warrior and confidant...love to all and THANK YOU.

Happy Monday

Good Morning One and All.....My mission is half accomplished! Saturday morning I went to a yard sale that had THE day bed I had been looking for, it was basically BRAND new. They had a price tag of $50 on it, I offered them $40. This bed did NOT have the mattress with it..To make a long story short, they accepted my offer...YAHOO!
It is JUST what I wanted....Thank you Lord.
I had to call MR Leonard to come pick it up for me, which he did. I continued on with some shopping and got home to find that my MR Leonard had taken down the futon and had put up the day bed....OH, I was so HAPPY. THE LORD REALLY BLESSED ME!
Now the search is on for the mattress and of course the perfect bedding. I like this bed, because it does not have one of those under the frame mattress thingys. It sets high enough up from the floor that I will be able to have storage space under...With the right dust ruffle, it will be out of sight.
Sis Smith, you will appreciate this.
After getting home Saturday and getting things around, MR Leonard and I decided we were both HUNGRY!
I had been wanting to try this new recipe, but hesitated because he doesn't like new recipes...I am not sure of the name or even if it has a name.
OK, you take chicken breasts for the number of people eating, kind of go on how much each person will eat. Then you take one of those meat hammers and beat the tar out of it. You want it to be nice and flat, then you take any marinate you prefer and paint the breast, then you add stove top stuffing, I used about 1\3 cup per breast, just prepare as directions state, but don't cook as it will cook along with the breast, roll up, secure with tooth pick, baste rolled breast with more marinate and bake until done...It was easy, got any frustrations out I might have had beating the chicken and the best part...MR Leonard said I could make it again....he he he. PTL....And it was GOOD.
Onto a more serious note. As we approach the presbytery meeting and the Arise Shine, we have a responsibility bloggers to hold up our Overseers, to hold up our leadership, to fast and pray. We cannot be slack, as Bro Wilda says, IT IS NOT BUSINESS AS USUAL any longer with THE CHURCH. The Bible says even the gates of hell shall not prevail against The Church. The Church will go on with or without us. AS I know all of you do, I want to be amongst the Bride. Let us seek the LORD as is our reasonable service.
CAMP CAMP CAMP, Yes camp starts this Wednesday. This will be the first time I have gone to camp since Kasey moved away. I am looking forward to it, but also and am little nervous. I am anticipating a wonderful time in the Lord. The getting together again with our extended families is always such a blessing..The kids bring such enthusiasm and excitement with them, it is SO infectious..If the Lord lays on your heart this Northwest Regions camp, please pray for the safety of our travelers and that they come expecting. This will probably be last post until next week out. Love and prayers to all, God Bless you each one and keep you safe in HIS cocoon of love and hope....Blogging out.

On a Mission!

Good Morning One and All.
I am on a mission this morning. It is 6:12AM. I am at work. I am taking my lunch hour at 7:30 this morning, to go to a ...... Yard Sale!
I have been faithfully looking for a Day Bed for my craft room. In yesterday's paper, there were two listed in the Yard Sale section. They are in close proximity of one another, so hopefully, I will find one to my liking!
I just about had Mr Leonard talked into going for me, but he admitted last night that he was afraid he wouldn't get it right. Which I can appreciate. Ladies, has your husband or father or boyfriend ever sent you to the Auto Parts Store, only to realize as you return back with the part, that it turns out to be the WAY wrong part?
So, I am off to the yard sales!
Keep your eyes on the Prize.....AMEN.

Malachi 3:3 "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this statement meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study. That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities. The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it would be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith, "How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it." If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.

Have a blessed day bloggers and keep on that firing line.