Cell Phone vs Bible

I wonder what would happen if we treated our Bible like we treat our cell phone?
What if we carried it around in our purses or pockets?
What if we flipped through it several times a day?
What if we turned back to go get it if we forgot it?
What if we used it to receive messages from the text?
What if we treated it like we couldn't live without it?
What if we gave it to Kids as gifts?
What if we used it when we traveled?
What if we used it in case of emergency.
This is something to make you go....hmm...where is my Bible?
Oh, and one more thing. Unlike our cell phone, we don't have to worry about our Bible being disconnected because Jesus already paid the bill.
Makes you stop and think "where are my priorities?"
And no dropped calls!

The Value of Disaster

For ten years Thomas Edison attempted to invent a storage battery. His efforts greatly strained his finances and, in Dec 1914, nearly brought him to ruin when a spontaneous combustion broke out in his film room. Within minutes all the packing
Compounds, celluloid for records and film, and other flammable goods were ablaze. Though fire depts. came from surrounding towns, the intense heat and low water pressure made attempts to douse the flames futile. Everything was destroyed.
While the damage exceeded $2 million, the concrete bldgs, thought to be fireproof, were insured for barely a tenth of that amount. The inventor’s twenty-four-year old son, Charles, searched frantically for his father, afraid that his spirit would be broken. Charles finally found him, calmly watching the fire, his face glowing in the reflection, white hair blowing in the wind.
“My heart ached for him,” said Charles. “he was sixty-seven, no longer a young man, and everything was going up in flames”.
“When he saw me he shouted, “Charles, where’s your mother?” When I told him I
didn’t know, he said, “find her. Bring her here. She will never see anything like this as long as she lives.”
The next morning, Edison looked at the ruins and said, “There is great value in disaster. All our mistakes are burned up. Thank God we can start anew.” Three weeks after the fire, Edison managed to deliver the first phonograph.
With each new day, we have the opportunity to start again, to start fresh…no matter what our circumstances. Let the Lord show you how to salvage hope from debris. You never know what joys lie ahead.
HOPE IS LIKE THE SUN, WHICH, AS WE JOURNEY TOWARDS IT, CASTS A SHADOW OF OUR BURDEN BEHIND US.
Romans 5:3 And not only so, but we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience;

>The Stranger
>
>A few years after I was born, my Dad met a stranger who was new to
>our small Texas town. From the beginning, Dad was fascinated with
>this enchanting newcomer and soon invited him to live with our family.
>The stranger was quickly accepted and was around from then on.
>
>As I grew up, I never questioned his place in my family. In my young mind,
>he had a special niche. My parents were complementary instructors:
>
>
>
>
>Mom taught me good from evil, and Dad taught me to obey. But
>the stranger...he was our storyteller. He would keep us spellbound for
>hours on end with adventures, mysteries and comedies.
>
>If I wanted to know anything about politics, history or science, he always
>knew the answers about the past, understood the present and even seemed
>able to predict the future! He took my family to the first major league
>ball game. He made me laugh, and he made me cry. The stranger never stopped
>talking, but Dad didn't seem to mind.
>
>Sometimes, Mom would get up quietly while the rest of us were shushing each
>other to listen to what he had to say, and she would go to the kitchen for
>peace and quiet. (I wonder now if she ever prayed for the stranger to
>leave.)
>
>Dad ruled our household with certain moral convictions, but the
>stranger never felt obligated to honor them. Profanity, for example, was
>not allowed in our home... Not from us, our friends or any visitors.
>Our longtime visitor, however, got away with four-letter words that
>burned my ears and made my dad squirm and my mother blush.
>
>My Dad didn't permit the liberal use of alcohol. But the
>stranger encouraged us to try it on a regular basis. He made cigarettes
>look cool, cigars manly and pipes distinguished. He talked freely (much too
> freely!) about sex. His comments were sometimes blatant,
>sometimes suggestive, and generally embarrassing.
>
>I now know that my early concepts about relationships were
>influenced strongly by the stranger. Time after time, he opposed the values
>of my parents, yet he was seldom rebuked... And NEVER asked to leave.
>
>More than fifty years have passed since the stranger moved in with
>our family. He has blended right in and is
>not nearly as fascinating as he was at first. Still, if you could walk into
>my parents' den today, you
>would still find him sitting over in his corner, waiting for someone
>to listen to him talk and watch him draw his pictures. His name?....
>
>We just call him, "TV."
>

>
>He has a wife now....We call her "Computer."

Something to think about....be blessed....sis katie.