Tentmaker Forum

During the American civil war, Jackson's army found itself on one side of a river when it needed to be on the other.

After telling his engineers to plan and build a bridge so the army could cross, he called his wagon master in to tell him it was urgent that the wagon train cross the river as soon as possible. At once, the wagon master started gathering all the logs, rocks, and fence rails he could find and quickly put together a bridge.

Long before daylight, General Jackson got word that all the wagons and artillery had crossed the river. "Where are the engineers and what are they doing?" asked Jackson of his wagon master.

"They are drawing up plans for a bridge, sir." He replied.

The Soldier and the Seagulls​

It happened every Friday evening, almost without fail, when the sun resembled a giant orange and was starting to dip into the blue ocean. Old Ed came strolling along the beach to his favorite pier.

Clutched in his bony hand was a bucket of shrimp. Ed walks out to the end of the pier, where it seems he almost has the world to himself. The glow of the sun is a golden bronze now.

Before long, however, he is no longer alone. Up in the sky a thousand white dots come screeching and squawking, winging their way toward that lanky frame standing there on the end of the pier.

Before long, dozens of seagulls have enveloped him, their wings fluttering and flapping wildly. Ed stands there tossing shrimp to the hungry birds. As he does, if you listen closely, you can hear him say with a smile, 'Thank you. Thank you.'

In a few short minutes the bucket is empty. But Ed doesn't leave. He stands there lost in thought, as though transported to another time and place .

His full name: Eddie Rickenbacker.

He was a famous hero in World War I, and then he was in WWII. On one of his flying missions across the Pacific, he and his seven-member crew went down. Miraculously, all of the men survived, crawled out of their plane, and climbed into a life raft.

Captain Rickenbacker and his crew floated for days on the rough waters of the Pacific. They fought the sun. They fought sharks. Most of all, they fought hunger and thirst. By the eighth day their rations ran out. No food. No water. They were hundreds of miles from land and no one knew where they were or even if they were alive.

Every day across America millions wondered and prayed that Eddie Rickenbacker might somehow be found alive.

The men adrift needed a miracle. That afternoon they had a simple devotional service and prayed for a miracle.

They tried to nap. Eddie leaned back and pulled his military cap over his nose. Time dragged on. All he could hear was the slap of the waves against the raft...suddenly Eddie felt something land on the top of his cap. It was a seagull!

Old Ed would later describe how he sat perfectly still, planning his next move. With a flash of his hand and a squawk from the gull, he managed to grab it and wring its neck. He tore the feathers off, and he and his starving crew made a meal of it - a very slight meal for eight men. Then they used the intestines for bait. With it, they caught fish, which gave them food and more bait....and the cycle continued. With that simple survival technique, they were able to endure the rigors of the sea until they were found and rescued after 24 days at sea.

Eddie Rickenbacker lived many years beyond that ordeal, but he never forgot the sacrifice of that first life-saving seagull... And he never stopped saying, 'Thank you.' That's why almost every Friday night he would walk to the end of the pier with a bucket full of shrimp and a heart full of gratitude.

Reference: (Max Lucado, "In The Eye of the Storm", pp...221, 225-226)

The Love of God

Down through the tedious ages of time man's heart has been cheered at the thought of the boundless love of God, and in his soul there has often been touched a responsive chord to that wonderful love. So compelling is this love that it is often felt by the most unfortunate and seemingly hopeless of mortals. Some years ago after the patient in a certain room in one of the mental institutions of our land had found release from his pathetic earthly sojourn, and his room was being readied for another unfortunate occupant, the attendants found scrawled on the walls of the room the following profound lines:

"Could we with ink the ocean fill, and were the skies of parchment made; Were every stalk on earth a quill, And every man a scribe by trade: To write the love of God above Would drain the ocean dry, Nor could the scroll contain the whole Though stretched from sky to sky."

In his saner moments this poor, troubled soul had poured out his simple heart of love to his God.

https://www.ministrymagazine.org/archive/1950/09/the-story-of-the-love-of-god

Miracle boy

https://www.godupdates.com/miracle-boy-born-with-virtually-no-brain-recovers-noah-wall/

What love is all about

It was a busy morning, approximately 8:30 am, when an elderly gentleman, in his 80s arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry and that he had an appointment at 9:00 am. I took his vital signs, and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.

On exam it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redressed his wound. While taking care of him, we began to engage in conversation. I asked him if he had a doctor's appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I then inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for awhile and was a victim of Alzheimer's Disease.

As we talked and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, and hadn't recognized him in five years. I was surprised, and asked him, "And you still go every morning, even though she doesn't know who you are?" He smiled and patted my hand and said, "She doesn't know me, but I still know who she is."

A Glass Of Milk

Once, there was a poor boy who made a living by selling various objects from door to door. This was the way he earned money to pay for his school.

One day, as he was walking from house to house as usual, he felt very hungry and weak. He felt that he couldn't walk even a few steps. He decided to ask for food at a house. He knocked on the door and was stunned to see a beautiful young girl open the door. With much hesitation, he asked the girl for a glass of water.

The young girl understood his condition and offered him a huge glass of milk. With an astonished look, the boy drank the milk very slowly.

How much do I owe you for this milk?? he asked her.

The girl replied, I do not want any money for this.

The boy thanked the girl from the bottom of his heart and left the place.

Years passed by.

The young girl grew up. In her youth, unfortunately, she fell ill and was diagnosed with the rarest kind of nervous disorder. Many experienced doctors were baffled at her condition, and she was admitted in the city hospital with the most advanced facilities.

Dr. Kevin, a renowned neuro specialist was called in by the hospital to examine her. Even with his extraordinary expertise, Dr. Kevin found the girl's illness very hard to cure. However, with perseverance and hard work that lasted months, he was finally able to get the disease under control. With careful medication and monitoring, the girl was completely cured in the end.

Everyone praised the doctor, but the girl was quite worried about how much the hospital bill would come to. Her family had just a little money kept away in the bank, which was by no means enough to pay for such a long treatment in that reputed hospital.

The girl was given the hospital bill finally. With trembling hands, she opened it. She was stunned to see that the bill had been crossed out and cancelled, and there was a note underneath signed by Dr. Kevin.

Bill paid years ago with a glass of milk!

Broken wing - don't judge a book by its cover

Some people are just doomed to be failures. That's the way some adults look at troubled kids. Maybe you've heard the saying, "A bird with a broken wing will never fly as high." I'm sure that T. J. Ware was made to feel this way almost every day in school.

By high school, T. J. was the most celebrated troublemaker in his town. Teachers literally cringed when they saw his name posted on their classroom lists for the next semester. He wasn't very talkative, didn't answer questions and got into lots of fights. He had flunked almost every class by the time he entered his senior year, yet was being passed on each year to a higher grade level. Teachers didn't want to have him again the following year.

T. J. was moving on, but definitely not moving up.

I met T. J. for the first time at a weekend leadership retreat. All the students at school had been invited to sign up for ACE training, a program designed to have students become more involved in their communities. T. J. was one of 405 students who signed up. When I showed up to lead their first retreat, the community leaders gave me this overview of the attending students: "We have a total spectrum represented today, from the student body president to T. J. Ware, the boy with the longest arrest record in the history of town." Somehow, I knew that I wasn't the first to hear about T. J.'s darker side as the first words of introduction.

At the start of the retreat, T. J. was literally standing outside the circle of students, against the back wall, with that "go ahead, impress me" look on his face.

He didn't readily join the discussion groups, didn't seem to have much to say. But slowly, the interactive games drew him in. The ice really melted when the groups started building a list of positive and negative things that had occurred at school that year. T. J. had some definite thoughts on those situations. The other students in T. J.'s group welcomed his comments. All of a sudden T. J. felt like a part of the group, and before long he was being treated like a leader. He was saying things that made a lot of sense, and everyone was listening. T. J. was a smart guy, and he had some great ideas.

The next day, T. J. was very active in all the sessions. By the end of the retreat, he had joined the Homeless Project team. He knew something about poverty, hunger and hopelessness. The other students on the team were impressed with his passionate concern and ideas. They elected T. J. co-chairman of the team. The student council president would be taking his instruction from T. J. Ware.

When T. J. showed up at school on Monday morning, he arrived to a firestorm. A group of teachers were protesting to the school principal about his being elected co-chairman. The very first community wide service project was to be a giant food drive, organized by the Homeless Project team. These teachers couldn't believe that the principal would allow this crucial beginning to a prestigious, three-year action plan to stay in the incapable hands of T. J. Ware.

They reminded the principal, "He has an arrest record as long as your arm. He'll probably steal half the food." Mr. Coggshall reminded them that the purpose of the ACE program was to uncover any positive passion that a student had and reinforce its practice until true change can take place. The teachers left the meeting shaking their heads in disgust, firmly convinced that failure was imminent.

Two weeks later, T. J. and his friends led a group of 70 students in a drive to collect food.

They collected a school record: 2,854 cans of food in just two hours. It was enough to fill the empty shelves in two neighborhood centers, and the food took care of needy families in the area for 75 days. The local newspaper covered the event with a full-page article the next day. That newspaper story was posted on the main bulletin board at school, where everyone could see it. T. J.'s picture was up there for doing something great, for leading a record-setting food drive. Every day he was reminded about what he did. He was being acknowledged as leadership material.

T. J. started showing up at school every day and answered questions from teachers for the first time. He led a second project, collecting 300 blankets and 1,000 pairs of shoes for the homeless shelter. The event he started now yields 9,000 cans of food in one day, taking care of 70 percent of the need for food for one year. T. J. reminds us that a bird with a broken wing only needs mending. But once it has healed, it can fly higher than the rest. T. J. got a job. He became productive.

He is flying quite nicely these days.

The Smell Of Rain

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery. Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news.

That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver couple's new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing. At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature.

Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs. I don't think she's going to make it, he said, as kindly as he could. There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one.

Continued below-

https://www.ababysheart.org/the-smell-of-rain/ (https://www.ababysheart.org/the-smell-of-rain/)

The Glasses

Mother's father worked as a carpenter. On this particular day, he was building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to some orphanage in China.

On his way home, he reached into his shirt pocket to find his glasses, but they were gone. When he mentally replayed his earlier actions, he realized what happened; the glasses had slipped out of his pocket unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had nailed shut. His brand new glasses were heading for China!

The Great Depression was at it's height and Grandpa had six children. He had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning. He was upset by the thought of having to buy another pair.

"It's not fair," he told God as he drove home in frustration.

"I've been very faithful in giving of my time and money to your work, and now this."

Several months later, the director of the orphanage was on furlough in the United States.

He wanted to visit all the churches that supported him in China, so he came to speak one Sunday at my grandfather's small church in Chicago. The missionary began by thanking the people for their faithfulness in supporting the orphanage.

"But most of all," he said, "I must thank you for the glasses you sent last year.

You see, the Communists had just swept through the orphanage, destroying everything, including my glasses. I was desperate. Even if I had the money, there was simply no way of replacing those glasses. Along with not being able to see well, I experienced headaches every day, so my coworkers and I were much in prayer about this. Then your crates arrived. When my staff removed the covers, they found a pair of glasses lying on top.

The missionary paused long enough to let his words sink in. Then, still gripped with the wonder of it all, he continued: "Folks, when I tried on the glasses, it was as though they had been custom-made just for me! I want to thank you for being a part of that."

The people listened, happy for the miraculous glasses. But the missionary surely must have confused their church with another, they thought.

There were no glasses on their list of items to be sent overseas.

But sitting quietly in the back, with tears streaming down his face, an ordinary carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used him in an extraordinary way.

The black dot

One day, a professor entered his classroom and asked his students to prepare for a surprise test. They all waited anxiously at their desks for the exam to begin.

The professor handed out the exams with the text facing down, as usual. Once he handed them all out, he asked the students to turn over the papers.

To everyone's surprise, there were no questions just a black dot in the center of the paper. The professor, seeing the expression on everyone's faces, told them the following: I want you to write about what you see there. The students, confused, got started on the inexplicable task.

At the end of the class, the professor took all the exams, and started reading each one of them out loud in front of all the students.

All of them, with no exception, defined the black dot, trying to explain its position in the center of the sheet. After all had been read, the classroom silent, the professor started to explain:

I'm not going to grade you on this, I just wanted to give you something to think about. No one wrote about the white part of the paper. Everyone focused on the black dot  and the same thing happens in our lives.

However, we insist on focusing only on the black dot  the health issues that bother us, the lack of money, the complicated relationship with a family member, the disappointment with a friend. The dark spots are very small when compared to everything we have in our lives, but they are the ones that pollute our minds.

Take your the eyes away from the black dots in your lives. Enjoy each one of your blessings, each moment that life gives you. Be happy and live a life filled with love!

A Little Boy's Selfless Love

Many years ago, when I worked as a volunteer at a hospital, I got to know a lovely little girl named Liz who was suffering from a rare life threatening disease. Her only chance of recovery appeared to be a blood transfusion from her 5-year-old brother, who had somehow survived the same disease and had developed the antibodies needed to combat the illness. The doctor explained the situation to her little brother, and asked the little boy if he would be willing to give his blood to his sister. I saw him hesitate for only a moment before taking a deep breath and saying, "Yes, I'll do it if it will save her."

As the transfusion progressed, he lay in bed next to his sister and smiled, as we all did, seeing the color returning to her cheeks. Then his face grew pale and his smile faded. He looked up at the doctor and asked with a trembling voice, "Will I start to die right away?"

Being young, the little boy had misunderstood the doctor; he thought he was going to have to give his sister all of his blood in order to save her.

Love stays

A nurse took the tired, anxious serviceman to the bedside. "Your son is here," she said to the old man.

She had to repeat the words several times before the patient's eyes opened. Heavily sedated because of the pain of his heart attack, he dimly saw the young uniformed marine standing outside the oxygen tent. He reached out his hand. The marine wrapped his toughened fingers around the old man's limp ones, squeezing a message of love and encouragement.

The nurse brought a chair so that the marine could sit beside the bed. All through the night, the young marine sat there in the poorly lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering him words of love and strength. Occasionally, the nurse suggested that the Marine move away and rest awhile. He refused.

Whenever the nurse came into the ward, the marine was oblivious of her and of the night noises of the hospital ? the clanking of the oxygen tank, the laughter of the night staff members exchanging greetings, the cries and moans of the other patients.

Now and then she heard him say a few gentle words. The dying man said nothing, only held tightly to his son all through the night. Along towards dawn, the old man died. The marine released the now lifeless hand he had been holding and went to tell the nurse.

While she did what she had to do, he waited. Finally, she returned. She started to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine interrupted her.

"Who was that man?" he asked. The nurse was startled, "He was your father," she answered.

"No, he wasn't," the marine replied. "I never saw him before in my life."

"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"

"I knew right away there had been a mistake, but I also knew he needed his son, and his son just wasn't here. When I realized that he was too sick to tell whether or not I was his son, knowing how much he needed me, I stayed."

The next time someone needs you ... just be there. Stay.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nr0RidYPhP0

I finished this webcomic just a while ago, today.  It's a Christ-centered story of bunnies who escape from a consumeristic social-credit utopia/dystopia.

https://www.hummingfluff.com/lovelypeoplecomic.html

Fine Linen, thank you for the wonderful stories...

Quote from: Lazarus Short on March 22, 2021, 11:14:20 PM
I finished this webcomic just a while ago, today.  It's a Christ-centered story of bunnies who escape from a consumeristic social-credit utopia/dystopia.

https://www.hummingfluff.com/lovelypeoplecomic.html

Brother Laz: It may be my excessive condition from the change of tyranny and decay, but I cannot get your link to work. I did, however, find the following.

https://www.crosswalk.com/special-coverage/easter/easter-bunny-origin-and-connection-to-christianity.html

Posting these stories are my delight. I do appreciate your thankfulness and the trail we have found together in the Christ.

Blind & Autistic Boy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-F_W_zl61bI&t=13s

A Sense Of A Goose

Next Autumn, when you see geese heading south for the winter, flying in a "V" formation, you might consider what science has discovered as to why they fly that way. As each bird flaps its wings, it creates an uplift for the bird immediately following. By flying in a "V" formation, the whole flock adds at least 71 percent greater flying range than if each bird flew on its own.

People who share a common direction and sense of community can get where they are going more quickly and easily, because they are travelling on the thrust of one another.

When a goose falls out of formation, it suddenly feels the drag and resistance of trying to go it alone and quickly gets back into formation to take advantage of the lifting power of the bird in front.

If we have the sense of a goose, we will stay in formation with those people who are heading the same way we are.

When the head goose gets tired, it rotates back in the wing and another goose flies point. It is sensible to take turns doing demanding jobs, whether with people or with geese flying south.

Geese honk from behind to encourage those up front to keep up their speed.
What message do we give when we honk from behind?

Finally - and this is important...

When a goose gets sick or is wounded by gunshot, and falls out of the formation, two other geese fall out with that goose and follow it down to lend help and protection.

They stay with the fallen goose until it is able to fly or until it dies; and only then do they launch out on their own, or with another formation to catch up with their own group.

If we have the sense of a goose, we will stand by each other like that.

Twenty Six-Guards

While serving at a small field hospital in Africa, I traveled every two weeks by bicycle through the jungle to a nearby city for supplies. This required camping overnight half way. On one of these trips, I saw two men fighting in the city. One was seriously injured, so I treated him and witnessed to him of the Lord Jesus Christ. I then returned home without incident.

Upon arriving in the city several weeks later, I was approached by the man I had treated earlier. He told me he had known that I carried money and medicine. He said, some friends and I followed you into the jungle knowing you would camp overnight. We waited for you to go to sleep and planned to kill you and take your money and drugs. Just as we were about to move into your campsite, we saw that you were surrounded by 26 armed guards

I laughed at this and said I was certainly all alone out in that jungle campsite. The young man pressed the point, "No, sir, I was not the only one to see the guards. My Jave friends also saw them and we all counted them. It was because of those guards that we were afraid and left you alone."

The Rest Of The Story

https://bible.org/illustration/twenty-six-guards (https://bible.org/illustration/twenty-six-guards)

Angel at Presbyterian Hospital

A couple of Wednesdays ago, I got an evening phone call from the pediatric ICU at Presbyterian Hospital, in Charlotte, NC, where I work as a child life specialist. Usually when they call at night, it means something bad has happened. This, however, was different. My coworker told me that the most amazing thing had just happened and she just had to call to tell me.

We had a patient who has really grown up in and out of the hospital. All the staff knows her and her family. She had been in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (PICU) for about a month, and had been intubated - on life support. She was not doing well. The doctors had approached mom about taking her off life support the Saturday before. Mom was okay with it, and said that she'd been through so much and if was her time to go she wanted to honor that. So they had taken her off.

It was Wednesday and she was still alive. Amazing. The doctors approached mom about taking off her oxygen mask. Mom was supportive, and began praying over her daughter. The mother of another young patient who was in the bed next to her began praying with her.

The nurse practitioner went to the nurses station to chart that she had taken off the oxygen mask. While doing so, she looked up at the security monitor that videotapes the double doors leading into the PICU. It records anyone who may be waiting outside the doors to get in since it is a secure unit. She saw a man standing there, and it looked a little funny to her, so she decided to walk down the hall to open the double doors personally. When she opened them, no one was standing there.

She walked back down to the nurses station to finish charting, assuming he had walked away, but saw him still standing there on the monitor. So she opened the doors with a button near the nurses station and leaned over to see him walk in, but no one was standing there.

She pulled over another nurse and both stood staring at this man on the monitor and opening the doors to find no one there. The nurse practitioner leaned in closely to look at the man on the monitor and said, Oh my gosh. That's an angel. You can see his wings!

They said that the sun starting shining so brightly and the whole PICU was strangely filled with light. They said he was a tall man and you could see wings behind him.

They pulled over all the staff of the PICU and the two praying mothers and everyone was staring at this man on the monitor and opening the doors to find no one there. Crying, everyone pulled out their camera phones to take pictures, but no one could get it to show up on their camera. The mother of the girl pulled out her camera phone and finally got a picture of the angel who was guarding the doors to the PICU. He turned out as a man of light.

The girl was later discharged from the hospital to go home.

A Miracle.

Brain Dead Baby & Kisses

https://www.godupdates.com/big-sister-blew-kisses-brain-dead-baby-miracle/#slides

A box full of kisses

The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said,

"This is for you, Daddy."

The man was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found out the box was empty. He yelled at her, stating, "Don't you know, when you give someone a present, there is supposed to be something inside? The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and cried,

"Oh, Daddy, it's not empty at all. I blew kisses into the box. They're all for you, Daddy."

The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.

Only a short time later, an accident took the life of the child. It is also told that her father kept that gold box by his bed for many years and, whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each one of us, as humans beings, have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses... from our children, family members, friends, and God. There is simply no other possession, anyone could hold, more precious than this.

The Smell of Rain

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the Doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. Still groggy from surgery, her husband David held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. That afternoon of March 10,1991, complications had forced Diana, only 24 weeks pregnant, to Danae Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound and nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctors soft words dropped like bombs.

I don't think she's going to make it, he said, as kindly as he could.

There's only a 10 percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one.

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Danae would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

No! No! was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away.

Through the dark hours of morning as Danae held onto life by the thinnest thread, Diana slipped in and out of sleep, growing more and more determined that their tiny daughter would live, and live to be a healthy, happy young girl.

But David, fully awake and listening to additional dire details of their daughter's chances of ever leaving the hospital alive, much less healthy, knew he must confront his wife with the inevitable.

David walked in and said that we needed to talk about making funeral arrangements.

Diana remembers, I felt so bad for him because he was doing everything, trying to include me in what was going on, but I just wouldn't listen, I couldn't listen. I said, No, that is not going to happen, no way! I don't care what the doctors say; Danae is not going to die! One day she will be just fine, and she will be coming home with us!

As if willed to live by Diana's determination, Danae clung to life hour after hour, with the help of every medical machine and marvel her miniature body could endure. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana.

Because Danae's under-developed nervous system was essentially raw, the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Danae struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl. There was never a moment when Danae suddenly grew stronger.

But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. At last, when Danae turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later-though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero. Danae went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Today, five years later, Danae is a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life.

She shows no signs, what so ever, of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she is everything a little girl can be and more-but that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Danae was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ballpark where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always, Danae was chattering non-stop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent.

Hugging her arms across her chest, Danae asked, Do you smell that? Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, Yes, it smells like rain. Danae closed her eyes and again asked, Do you smell that?

Once again, her mother replied, Yes, I think we're about to get wet, it smells like rain. Still caught in the moment, Danae shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced,

No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest.

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae then happily hopped down to play with the other children.

Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Danae on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fKBhvDjuy0&t=9s

The Two Brothers

Once upon a time, two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labour and goods as needed without a hitch. Then the long collaboration fell apart.

It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence.

One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's toolbox. "I'm looking for a few days work," he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there. Could I help you?"

"Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbour. In fact, it's my younger brother.

Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll go him one better. See that pile of lumber curing by the barn? I want you to build me a fence - an 8-foot fence - so I won't need to see his place anymore. Cool him down anyhow."

The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you." The older brother had to go to town for supplies, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day.

The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, and nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job. The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped.

There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge - a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other!

A fine piece of work - handrails and all - and the neighbour, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched. "You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done." The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand.

They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder.

"No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother.

"I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said, " but I have many more bridges to build."

Angels Came To My Rescue

My name is Bruce Van Natta, and I love to work on trucks.

I'm a self-employed diesel mechanic; also a Christian family man living out my power truck dreams and providing for my wife and four children. I never gave a second thought to the danger of working on engines that weigh thousands of pounds, until November 16, 2006.

I was working on a Peterbilt logging truck about an hour from our home. The guy I was working with, who drives the truck, asked me if I would look at one more leak before I left.

So, if you could picture one of these great big Peterbilt trucks, I slid under the front big bumper feet first. The front axle was jacked up and the right front wheel removed.

I said to him, "You jump up inside and see what the temperature of the engine is."

The axle is right across my chest at this point, maybe an inch or two above me.

The 20-ton capacity jack holding up the truck, shot out from its position. This 10,000 to 12,000 pounds of weight that's on this axle, came down across my mid-section like a blunt guillotine, and nearly crushed me in half.

I tasted the blood in my throat when it fell on me. I looked down and could see there was less than three inches of space between the bottom of the axle and the cement.

I knew the thickest part of my body was maybe two inches thick.

I begged the man that jacked up the truck to get me out from under it. He didn't want to because he could tell that I might have a broken back and I did.

The vertebrae in my spine were cracked the width of the axle. I tried to pull myself out from under the truck. It was the most incredible pain you can think of. I got myself to where my head was sticking out from under the front bumper.

The next thing I did was to call out, "Lord, help me."

I called it out again. "Lord, please help me!"

I felt strange and the pain left my body.

At that point, I was unconscious. My spirit left my body and floated to the ceiling, and was looking down at the accident scene. The man I had been working with was on his knees next to my body. I could faintly hear him saying, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'

But on each side of him, also on their knees were angels. They might have been about eight feet tall. They didn't have wings, just very broad shoulders.

There was a bright light shining around each one of them. They didn't move, and I never heard them say anything. They just had their arms under the truck, not holding the truck up; but had their arms angled in toward my body. There was no pain, just peace. I can't describe the peace I felt in the garage.

I knew I had a serious choice to make.

I was definitely on the edge of life and death. There were two thoughts in my head. One was, 'Shut your eyes and give up and die. You are just going to go to heaven anyway.' The other voice in my head was much quieter and not much more than a whisper, 'If you want to live, you're going to have to fight, and you are going to have to fight hard.'

The next thing I knew, my spirit went back down into my body.

I was conscious while I was flown on a life flight to the hospital. Doctors there doubted I would survive the next few hours. My ribs were broken, my pancreas and spleen crushed, and several major arteries had been severed.

We found out from doctors later, I had five places that major arteries were completely severed. I found out from the doctors there was a medical study done in 2001. According to that study, by the University of South California, they used my case and compared it against that study. They can't find anyone else in the world that has lived with five major arteries being severed.

I should have bled to death in a few minutes. So my thought is, the angels were there to somehow hold me together. I stayed in the hospital for over two months and survived five major surgeries. I still had overwhelming obstacles to overcome. Almost 75 percent of my small intestine was crushed in the accident and had to be removed. An adult has 18-20 feet of small intestine. I was down to less than 100 cm of small intestine.

Someone came in and told us that he didn't expect me to live much more than a year, that I was going to starve to death.

I was losing weight very rapidly: and they were feeding me intravenously. My once 180 lb. frame dropped to 126 lbs. My family was praying and my community rallied around me. I also received an unexpected visitor in my hospital room one day.

The Lord woke up a man in New York two days in a row. This was someone that I met one time on vacation. He came and prayed for me in the hospital. He put his palm on my forehead, and he prayed the way Jesus taught us to pray. He spoke to the mountain, in this case my small intestine, 'I command you to grow back in the name of Jesus Christ.' I felt like 220 volts come out of his palm and into my forehead. I could feel my intestines moving around and up and down.

After nine long months of surgeries and hospital stays, I was finally able to feed myself and gained weight, back up to 170 lbs.

When I returned for testing, radiology reports and doctors confirmed that I had almost nine feet of small intestine. They said the small intestines the Lord gave back to me were twice as good as normal. They work just as if I had all of it; absorb the vitamins, minerals, and nutrients I take into my body.

Over and over, the Lord kept confounding the doctors from the point of saying I shouldn't live. I should have bled to death. My intestines miraculously were growing back. God was showing us that miracles were happening. My pancreas rejuvenated by itself. My spleen rejuvenated by itself.

Miracle after miracle, God was just showing up. He is a miracle worker.

Overcoming Obstacles: How Abraham Lincoln Defeated Depression

Recognized as one of our country's greatest presidents, Abraham Lincoln is well known for his impressive accomplishments, including preserving the union during the Civil War and signing The Emancipation Proclamation into law to end slavery. But he is less known for his ability to overcome a significant and ever-present obstacle in his life clinical depression.

Lincoln's humble beginnings famously born in a small log cabin also included a history of depression. Both his parents, Thomas and Nancy Lincoln, are believed to have also suffered from it. Though there are many factors related to it, researchers say that a vulnerability to depression can be inherited, which may have been the case with Lincoln....

The rest of the story

https://www.learningliftoff.com/overcoming-obstacles-how-abraham-lincoln-defeated-depression/ (https://www.learningliftoff.com/overcoming-obstacles-how-abraham-lincoln-defeated-depression/)

Abe Lincoln: Courage Born in Depression

At eight, I went to a new school. I remember going for the first time to its library, much bigger than the one in my old school, with quiet signs on the tables and portraits on the walls. Over the librarian?s desk was a color photograph of the president, Franklin Roosevelt, seated at his desk. On the right wall was a painting of George Washington standing by a cannon; on the left was one of Thomas Jefferson, holding the Declaration of Independence.

But it was the picture over the door, when I turned to leave with my new library card, that stopped me. It was a photograph, this one black-and-white: a tall, thin man with his hand on a table and with the saddest, most pain-filled face I?d ever seen.

The gold letters on the frame said Abraham Lincoln. It couldn?t be! Lincoln, my brave hero, who won every wrestling match? The ragged boy who told such funny stories that crowds would gather to listen? They?d put the wrong name on the photograph.

But of course it was Lincoln, and over time that portrait made him more important to me than ever. Already I was experiencing the bouts of depression that, three years later, would lead my parents to the then-rare step of taking me to a psychiatrist. Despite her help, I continued to have (and still do) occasional descents into those bottomless depths. And at these times, my model continued to be Abraham Lincoln.

The rest of the story

https://www.guideposts.org/better-living/positive-living/emotional-and-mental-health/abraham-lincoln-a-courage-born-of (https://www.guideposts.org/better-living/positive-living/emotional-and-mental-health/abraham-lincoln-a-courage-born-of)

Overcoming Obstacles: How Louis Zamperini Remained Unbroken

Initially, Louis Zamperini's greatest obstacle was his own mortality. During World War II, his entire focus was on surviving, and the odds continued to be against him. He joined the Air Force in 1941 and was stationed on the Pacific as a bombardier on a B-24 Liberator bomber. At that time, flying into combat was only half the danger. Due to numerous technical problems and inadequate training, more than 50,000 airmen died in non-combat related accidents. So it was not unusual that Louis's plane crashed into the ocean as he and his crewmates flew on a search and rescue mission for another plane that went down earlier.

What was unusual, however, was that Louis survived the crash and the subsequent 47 days on a raft.

The odds of being rescued if you ended up on a life raft were terrible,  Laura Hillenbrand, author of Zamperini's biography Unbroken, told NPR in 2010. The rafts were very poorly equipped. Louis and his crewmate survived at sea longer than any other known survivors, drinking rainwater and eating the fish they managed to catch.

But his ordeal and struggle to survive had only just begun.

Emaciated and weak from sitting in the lifeboat, Louis was discovered and captured by the Japanese and eventually sent to a brutal POW camp where he was beaten, starved and overworked. Due to his fame he had competed in the 1936 Olympics and was one of the fastest distance runners in the world a jealous and sadistic prison guard, Mutsuhiro Watanabe, whom the prisoners nicknamed "the Bird," singled Louis out for particularly cruel treatment. These events are dramatized in the movie Unbroken, based on Hillenbrand's best-selling book. Amazingly, he survived two years in the POW camps before being released when the war ended. -Elizabeth Street-

Continued below

https://www.learningliftoff.com/overcoming-obstacles-how-louis-zamperini-overcame-his-biggest-challenge-after-the-war/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kwUwZZiAvO0&t=36s

It's Little Things that Make a Big Difference.

There was a man taking a morning walk at or the beach. He saw that along with the morning tide came hundreds of starfish and when the tide receded, they were left behind and with the morning sun rays, they would die. The tide was fresh and the starfish were alive. The man took a few steps, picked one and threw it into the water. He did that repeatedly. Right behind him there was another person who couldn't understand what this man was doing. He caught up with him and asked, What are you doing? There are hundreds of starfish. How many can you help? What difference does it make? This man did not reply, took two more steps, picked up another one, threw it into the water, and said, 'It makes a difference to this one.'

What difference are we making?

Big or small, it does not matter. If everyone made a small difference, we'd end up with a big difference, wouldn't we?

The Story of Richard Wurmbrand

"God, I know surely that You do not exist. But if perchance You exist, which I contest, it is not my duty to believe in You; it is Your duty to reveal Yourself to me."

The young Jewish atheist who uttered that flippant prayer was Richard Wurmbrand, born in 1909 in Bucharest, Romania. Little did he know how completely God would answer him, call him to a life of service to Christ, and use him to raise up one of the strongest ministries in the world today that helps the persecuted church.

In 1938, in a remote Romanian village, an old German carpenter named Christian Wolfkes lay sick. The only person by his side giving aid and comfort was a Jewish follower of Christ.

When Wolfkes recovered, he was so grateful to God that he prayed earnestly for the opportunity to share the gospel with a Jewish person. Although none lived in his village, still he prayed.

One day a young, newly married Jewish couple arrived on vacation. They were Richard and Sabina Wurmbrand. The carpenter enthusiastically gave Richard a Bible. Richard had read the Scriptures once but had gotten nothing from them. However, this time, his heart was stirred. He didn't know why, until he learned the secret.

The carpenter and his wife had spent many long hours every day praying for his salvation. The Bible he gave me was written not so much in words, but in flames of love fired by his prayers, Richard would write later.

The carpenter spoke about God's unconditional love for the Jewish people (Dt. 7:6,7; Jer. 31:3), the Messianic fulfillments in Jesus, and Jesus purpose in coming to Earth:

For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved. (Jn. 3:17).

The Spirit of God freed Richard's heart, and he believed. Sabina also came to faith and was so deeply changed she soon brought others to the Messiah. >>>>

https://israelmyglory.org/article/the-story-of-richard-wurmbrand/ (https://israelmyglory.org/article/the-story-of-richard-wurmbrand/)

Martha Mason

Martha Mason graduated valedictorian of her high school and earned two college degrees at the top of the class all while living her life in an iron lung.

Paralyzed by polio at age 11 in 1948 and confined 23 hours a day in an immobile, 800-pound horizontal tube, the voracious reader stayed endlessly curious and amazingly adaptable.

Custom-built intercoms connected her to school and made her a regular member in her classes, with the technology helping her from high school through Wake Forest College (now University), where the English major arrived at her dorm room in a bakery truck.

By the time she died in 2009, Mason had been in the iron lung for a record-setting 60 years. Something happens to all of us, she said in a documentary about her, Martha in Lattimore.

Mine is more visible than yours, but you have to deal with your things, too. None of us are exempt from things that would make us extraordinary people if the world knew the story.

Tell Them

Some 14 years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our opening session in the theology of faith.

That was the day I first saw Tommy. He was combing his hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. My quick judgment wrote him off as strange,  very strange.

Tommy turned out to be my biggest challenge.

He constantly objected to or smirked at the possibility of an unconditionally loving God.

When he turned in his final exam at the end of the course, he asked in a slightly cynical tone, Do you think I'll ever find God??

"No", I said emphatically.

"Oh", he responded. I thought that was the product you were pushing.

I let him get five steps from the door and then called out.

I don't think you'll ever find Him, but I am certain He will find you.

Tommy shrugged and left. I felt slightly disappointed that he had missed my clever line.

Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was grateful for that. Then came a sad report: Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to me. When he walked into my office, his body was badly wasted, and his long hair had fallen out because of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice, for the first time, was firm.

"Tommy! I've thought about you so often. I heard you were very sick," I blurted out.

Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer. It's a matter of weeks.

"Can you talk about it?"

"Sure. What would you like to know?"

"What's it like to be only 24 and know that you're dying?

"It could be worse, he told me, like being 50 and thinking that drinking booze, seducing women and making money are the real biggies in life.

Then he told me why he had come.

It was something you said to me on the last day of class. I asked if you thought I would ever find God, and you said no, which surprised me. Then you said, But He will find you.

I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time. But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging against the bronze doors of heaven. But nothing happened.

Well, one day I woke up, and instead of my desperate attempts to get some kind of message, I just quit.

I decided I didn't really care about God, an afterlife, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more important. I thought about you and something else you had said:

"The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you loved them."

So I began with the hardest one: my dad.

Tommy's father had been reading the newspaper when his son approached him.

"Dad, I would like to talk with you."

"Well, talk."

"I mean, it's really important."

The newspaper came down three slow inches.

"What is it?"

"Dad, I love you. I just wanted you to know that."

Tommy smiled at me as he recounted the moment. The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I couldn't remember him doing before. He cried and he hugged me. And we talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning.

It was easier with my mother and little brother, Tommy continued.

They cried with me, and we hugged one another, and shared the things we had been keeping secret for so long. Here I was, in the shadow of death, and I was just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.

Then one day I turned around and God was there.

He didn't come to me when I pleaded with Him. Apparently He does things in His own way and at His own hour. The important thing is that you were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him.

"Tommy," I added, "could I ask you a favor? Would you come to my theology-of-faith course and tell my students what you told me?"

Though we scheduled a date, he never made it. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of humanity has ever seen or the mind ever imagined.

Before he died, we talked one last time. "I'm not going to make it to your class," he said.

"I know, Tommy."

"Will you tell them for me? Will you . . . tell the whole world for me?"

"I will, Tommy. I'll tell them."

Don't Hope: Decide!

While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life-changing experiences that you hear other people talk about, the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly. This one occurred a mere two feet away from me.

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jet way, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other's face, I heard the father say, "It's so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!" His son smiled somewhat shyly, averted his eyes and replied softly, "Me, too, Dad!"

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe nine or ten) and while cupping his son's face in his hands said, "You're already quite the young man. I love you very much, Zach!" They too hugged a most loving, tender hug.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one-and-a-half) was squirming excitedly in her mother's arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, "Hi, baby girl!" as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder, motionless in pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, "I've saved the best for last!" and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed. "I love you so much!" They stared at each other's eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands.

For an instant they reminded me of newlyweds, but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn't possibly be. I puzzled about it for a moment then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm's length away from me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I was invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, "Wow! How long have you two been married?"

Two whole days

"Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those." he replied, without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife's face. "Well then, how long have you been away?" I asked. The man finally turned and looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile. "Two whole days!"

Two days? I was stunned. By the intensity of the greeting, I had assumed he'd been gone for at least several weeks if not months. I know my expression betrayed me.

I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), "I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!"

The man suddenly stopped smiling.

He looked me straight in the eye, and with forcefulness that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, "Don't hope, friend decide!

Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, "God bless!" - Michael D. Hargrove-

Against All Odds

An Israeli platoon  found themselves in the midst of a minefield along the Syrian border during the Yom Kippur War. When the platoon realized they were in a minefield they pulled out their bayonets and started to dig out mines and to disarm them.

Suddenly, a fierce wind began to blow, removing the sand from the minefield. Each and every mine was exposed and the soldiers ventured through the minefield unscathed.

If you found yourself in the midst of a minefield, but had someone with you that knew where every mine was, and could guide you through, then you'd be sure to stay as close to him as possible.

Life is a minefield, the enemy has planted mines all across your path. The Lord knows where they are  and how to guide you around them.

Stay close to Him!

Thank you, again, for the wonderful stories - I re-read them today with my wife.  :dsunny:

My friend Laz: Our Lord is so incredible. These stories manifest somewhat how awesome He is. It is always a delight seeing you!

Bees

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRk7tNPnBvA&list=RDCMUCFjARwLMCXs640hNJO6wnOQ

Father's Love Letter

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpSE3eZTCNo

My mom only had one eye. I hated her.

She was such an embarrassment. She cooked for students and teachers to support the family.

There was this one day during elementary school where my mom came to say hello to me. I was so embarrassed.

How could she do this to me?

I ignored her, threw her a hateful look and ran out.

The next day at school one of my classmates said, EEEE, your mom only has one eye!

I wanted to bury myself.

I also wanted my mom to just disappear.

I confronted her that day and said, "If you're only gonna make me a laughing stock, why don't you just die?"

My mom did not respond.

I didn't even stop to think for a second about what I had said, because I was full of anger. I was oblivious to her feelings.

I wanted out of that house, and have nothing to do with her. So I studied very hard, got a chance to go abroad to study.

Then, I got married.

I bought a house of my own. I had kids of my own. I was happy with my life, my kids and the comforts.

One day, my mother came to visit me. She hadn't seen me in years and she didn't even meet her grandchildren.

When she stood by the door, my children laughed at her, and I yelled at her for coming over uninvited. I screamed at her,

How dare you come to my house and scare my children! GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!

And to this, my mother quietly answered, "Oh, I'm so sorry. I may have gotten the wrong address", and she disappeared out of sight.

One day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. So I lied to my wife that I was going on a business trip. After the reunion, I went to the old shack just out of curiosity.

My neighbors said that she died. I did not shed a single tear. They handed me a letter that she had wanted me to have.

My dearest son,

I think of you all the time. I'm sorry that I came to your house and scared your children.

I was so glad when I heard you were coming for the reunion. But I may not be able to even get out of bed to see you. I'm sorry that I was a constant embarrassment to you when you were growing up.

You see..when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye. As a mother, I couldn't stand watching you having to grow up with one eye. So I gave you mine.

I was so proud of my son who was seeing a whole new world for me, in my place, with that eye.

With all my love to you, your mother.

Because I Was Told I Can

About 6 months ago, I joined a gym. Every morning, there is one personal trainer there that works out at the same time that my little group does our workout. He does his "routine" with such a quiet determination that he makes it all look very easy; although I know all too well how hard he is working. When I am tempted to whine and quit, I watch him push himself to his own limits, and I find myself motivated to work as hard and without complaint.

A couple of weeks ago, I was watching him do chin ups. He made them look effortless. I broke away from my group and asked him if I could try a chin up. I had never tried before, but he just made it look so easy. He eagerly stepped aside and encouraged me to step up to the bar. I pulled myself up without thinking...once...then twice.

That was all I had in me, I had no strength left.

I told him that was all I had, so he stepped up behind me and pushed me up for a third and fourth "pull." It felt so good. I felt strong and I smiled from ear to ear.

The next day when I was done my workout, I asked him to spot me again. Again, I did two. Again on day three and so on. I thought it was pathetic that I could only do two, but when I came to the gym at the end of the week, he was standing there just shaking his head.

When I asked him what was up, he said he was impressed with my chin ups.

He told me that when they are training firefighters, the men are required to do 5 chin ups, and women are required to do 1 or 2. He explained that most people can't do them at all, and that he was impressed that I could.

He further told me that if I practiced every day, I would be doing 5 or 6 in no time. At this point I should probably add that I am 50 years old...and female.

The moral of this story...because I didn't know any better, because he told me I could, I saw no reason to doubt. I just jumped in and gave it a try - and I did it! I didn't see it as a great accomplishment, because I didn't realize that it was difficult and it became my goal to get stronger. No one told me I couldn't do it, in fact, I was encouraged to try. Had he told me initially how difficult it was, I more than likely would not have tried at all. Or I might have tried, but given it only half an effort, because failure would have been the expectation.

I applaud him for letting me believe that for me, it was not only a possibility, but that success was a realistic expectation.

How many times have we decided not to try at all because we were told that we couldn't, that we shouldn't, that we had expectations that were too ambitious? How many times have we told our children, our friends and our co-workers that they couldn't do something; that their ideas were impossible or beyond reach? How many times have we told ourselves that we would fail before we even started?

I started to ponder examples that I had witnessed and this came to mind...I recalled a conversation a friend of mine had with his daughter just prior to her heading off to university. He spoke to her (with good intentions) of how hard she would have to work in order to succeed. University wasn't like High School - this was the real world and now she would have to grow up. This child quit after two years.

Another friend spoke to her daughter of the adventure she was embarking on and how proud she was. I remember how we laughed because the mother already had her outfit picked out for convocation day! This child just graduated with her degree in physiology.

Looking back, neither daughter was more intelligent than the other. Was it the silent expectations (or lack thereof) that predicted the outcome?

I have a new approach now. I have experienced first hand how good it feels to rush in so innocently. To believe that we CAN do it and go on to accomplish exactly what we set out to do, because no one told us we couldn't. I've learned how important it is to support others (and ourselves) in our endeavors and to let them know that we believe they can do it rather than telling them we think that they can't.

I personally want to be like my trainer; standing there behind the people that I love, encouraging them, believing in them and being ready to catch them when they get tired. I will be the one that is there on the second and third day making sure they try again, because I know they CAN.

What a powerful lesson this has been for me. I'll be doing "5" in no time at all. Because I was told I CAN. - Jan Graham

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family.

The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead, the angels were given a space in the cold basement. As they made their bedroom the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied.

"Things aren't always what they seem.

The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had, the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good nights rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field.

The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel "How could you have let this happen!" The first man had everything, yet you helped him, she accused. "The second family had so little, but was willing to share everything and you let their cow die."

"Things aren't always what they seem, the older angel replied.

When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it. Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave her the cow instead. Things aren't always what they seem.

Sometimes this is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way you think they should. If you have faith, you just need to trust that every outcome is always to your advantage. You might not know it until some time later. Things aren't always what they seem. -Kathaleen Pinto-

Dinner with an angel

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6BTvsQbWxw&t=6s

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley.

A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen.

The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said "Why, your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but it was full of scars. It had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing.

The people stared how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?

The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed.

"You must be joking," he said.

"Compare your heart with mine. Mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."

"Yes," said the old man, "yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you.

You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared."

"Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me.

These are the empty gouges giving love, is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands. The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his.

William Tyndale

William Tyndale, a 16th century Englishman, translated the Bible into English while living in Germany.

Finally, in 1525, he was able to publish a New Testament in English. But the Church authorities at the time were not pleased and they angrily sought to destroy Tyndale and his translation.

Finally, he was caught and brought back to England where he was burned at the stake.

As he was dying, he uttered these words: "Lord open the eyes of the King of England." His prayer became a prophecy, as it was the King of England, King James, who finally did publish the entire Bible in English about a hundred years later.

Our English Bible translations became a reality through William Tyndale's heroic sacrifice and bravery, ultimately at the price of his lifeblood. This Independence Day, don't let your Bible sit on the shelf gathering dust. Considering the cost that was paid so you could read it in your native tongue, let's all take full advantage of this precious gift.

No arms, no legs, no worry

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aRXdT06bbW8

I have a choice about today

I woke up early today, excited over all I get to do before the clock strikes midnight. I have responsibilities to fulfill today and I am important. My job is to choose what kind of day I am going to have.

Today I can complain because the weather is rainy or I can be thankful that the grass is getting watered for free.

Today I can feel sad that I don't have more money or I can be glad that my finances encourage me to plan my purchases wisely and guide me away from waste.

Today I can grumble about my health or I can rejoice that I am alive.

Today I can lament over all that my parents didn't give me when I was growing up or I can feel grateful that they allowed me to be born.

Today I can cry because roses have thorns or I can celebrate that thorns have roses.

Today I can mourn my lack of friends or I can excitedly embark upon a quest to discover new relationships.

Today I can whine because I have to go to work or I can shout for joy because I have a job to do.

Today I can complain because I have to go to school or eagerly open my mind and fill it with rich new tidbits of knowledge.

Today I can murmur dejectedly because I have to do housework or I can appreciate that I have a place to call home.

Today stretches ahead of me, waiting to be shaped. And here I am, the sculptor who gets to do the shaping.

What today will be like is up to me. I get to choose what kind of day I will have!

Have a GREAT DAY ... unless you have other plans and please remember, a 'Smile' will make the days go better.

George Mueller (1805-1898) did many great works for the Lord in his lifetime, among them building several orphanages.

It was time for breakfast at of one of my orphanages in England and there was no food. Not only was there no food in the kitchen, but there was no money in the home's account. A young girl whose father was a close friend of mine was visiting the home.

I took her hand and said, "Come and see what our Father will do."

In the dining room, long tables were set with empty plates and empty mugs. We sat down at the table with the others and I prayed,

"Dear Father, we thank Thee for what Thou art going to give us to eat."

At once, we heard a knock at the door. There stood the local baker.

"Mr. Muller," he said, "I couldn't sleep last night. Somehow, I felt you had no bread for breakfast, so I got up at 2 o'clock this morning and baked you some fresh bread. Here it is."

Soon afterward, a second knock came. It was the milkman. His cart had broken down in front of the orphanage. There was no way to move and repair the cart except to empty it of the milk he needed to still deliver so he asked me if we could use his milk. We had a wonderful breakfast that morning.

Faith was the pinnacle of George Muller's life. Without a personal salary, he relied only on God to supply the money and food he needed to support the hundreds of homeless children he befriended in the name of  the Lord.

A man of radiant faith, he kept a motto on his desk for many years that brought comfort, strength, and uplifting confidence to his heart. It read,

It matters to Him about you.

Struggling will make you stronger

Once upon a time, a man found a butterfly that was starting to hatch from its cocoon. He sat down and watched the butterfly for hours as it struggled to force itself through a tiny hole. Then, it suddenly stopped making progress and looked like it was stuck.

Therefore, the man decided to help the butterfly out. He took a pair of scissors and cut off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily, although it had a swollen body and small, shriveled wings.

The man thought nothing of it, and he sat there waiting for the wings to enlarge to support the butterfly. However, that never happened. The butterfly spent the rest of its life unable to fly, crawling around with small wings and a swollen body.

Despite the man's kind heart, he didn't understand that the restricting cocoon and the struggle needed by the butterfly to get itself through the small hole were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings to prepare itself for flying once it was free.

Living life and having fun

A house becomes a home when you can write 'I love you' on the furniture. I can't tell you how many countless hours that I have spent cleaning. I used to spend at least 8 hours every weekend making sure things were just perfect - 'in case someone came over.' Then I realized one day that no-one came over; they were all out living life and having fun!

Now, when people visit, I find no need to explain the condition of my home. They are more interested in hearing about the things I've been doing while I was away living life and having fun. If you haven't quite figured this out as yet, please heed this advice.

Life is short, so enjoy it!

Dust if you must, but wouldn't it be better to paint a picture or write a letter, bake a cake or plant a seed, or even ponder the difference between want and need? Dust if you must, but there's not much time, with rivers to swim and mountains to climb, music to hear and books to read, friends to cherish and life to lead. Dust if you must, but the worlds out there with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain. This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind, old age will come and it's not kind.

And when you go - and go you must, you, yourself will make more dust! It's not what you gather, but what you scatter that tells what kind of life you have lived ... and remember, a layer of dust protects the wood beneath it. -Author Unknown

Highway Angel

I was driving home from a work when my car started to choke and sputter and died.

I barely managed to coast, cruising, into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic on the highway and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn't even turn over.

Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the "quickie mart" building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump! So I got out to see if she was okay. When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen. She was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

Into focus

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95. I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying," so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now.

So, I asked, "And you were praying?" That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said,

"He heard you, and He sent me."

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald's and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She told me her name and that she lived nearby. Her boyfriend left 2 months ago, and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay the rent January 1st, and finally, in desperation, had called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them and try to get on her feet there.

So she packed up everything she owned in the car. She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas but not that they were going to live there.

I gave her my gloves and a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, "So, are you like an angel or something?"

"Sweetie, at this time of year, angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people."

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, when I got in my car, it started right away and got me home with no problem. I'll put it in the shop tomorrow for a check, but I suspect the mechanic won't find anything wrong.

Butch O'Hare

Butch O'Hare During the course of World War II, many people gained fame in one way or another. One man was Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to an aircraft carrier in the Pacific. One time his entire squadron was assigned to fly a particular mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank. Because of this, he would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship. His flight leader told him to leave formation and return.

As he was returning to the mother ship, he could see a squadron of Japanese Zeroes heading toward the fleet to attack. And with all the fighter planes gone, the fleet was almost defenseless. His was the only opportunity to distract and divert them. Single-handedly, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes and attacked them. The American fighter planes were rigged with cameras, so that as they flew and fought, pictures were taken so pilots could learn more about the terrain, enemy maneuvers, etc. Butch dove at them and shot until all his ammunition was gone, then he would dive and try to clip off a wing or tail or anything that would make the enemy planes unfit to fly. He did anything he could to keep them from reaching the American ships.

Finally, the Japanese squadron took off in another direction, and Butch O' Hare and his fighter, both badly shot up, limped back to the carrier. He told his story, but not until the film from the camera on his plane was developed, did they realize the extent he really went to, to protect his fleet. He was recognized as a hero and given one of the nation's highest military honors. And as you may know, O'Hare Airport was named after him.

Easy Eddie

Prior to this time in Chicago, there was a man called Easy Eddie. He was working for a man you've all heard about, Al Capone. Al Capone wasn't famous for anything heroic, but he was notorious for the murders he'd committed and the illegal things he'd done.

Easy Eddie was Al Capone's lawyer and he was very good. In fact, because of his skill, he was able to keep Al Capone out of jail. To show his appreciation, Al Capone paid him very well. He not only earned big money, he would get extra things, like a residence that filled an entire Chicago city block. The house was fenced, and he had live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day.

Easy Eddie had a son. He loved his son and gave him all the best things while he was growing up; clothes, cars, and a good education. And, because he loved his son he tried to teach him right from wrong. One thing he couldn't give his son was a good name, and a good example. Easy Eddie decided that this was much more important than all the riches he had given him.

So, he went to the authorities in order to rectify the wrong he had done. In order to tell the truth, it meant he must testify against Al Capone, and he knew that Al Capone would do his best to have him killed. But he wanted most of all to try to be an example and to do the best he could to give back to his son, a good name. So he testified. Within the year, he was shot and killed on a lonely street in Chicago.

These sound like two unrelated stories, but Butch O'Hare was Easy Eddie's son.

God loves you as you are, not as you should be

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FKSofu9YlyQ&t=7s

The Homing Instinct

A hundred years ago, a pair of English ornithologists took birds from their mother's nest on the island of Skokholm off the coast of Wales. They tagged those birds and transported them to various far-off places, then released them to see whether the birds could find their way home to Wales.

One of those birds was released in Venice. Despite the tremendous distance (about 1,000 miles) and despite the fact that this species wasn't native to the region, the bird found its way back home by a path it had never flown  in just over 14 days!

That experiment was repeated with even greater distances.

Two birds were transported by train in a closed box to London, then flown by airplane to Boston. Only one of the two survived that trip. The lone surviving bird flew all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and found its way back to its mother's nest in 12 days and 12 hours!

Pretty impressive, right?

Even ornithologists are amazed by this inbuilt capacity called the homing instinct. It's the inherent ability to find their way home across great distances, despite unfamiliar terrain.

There's a similar instinct hardwired into the human soul, the longing to be blessed by God.

In the words of Saint Augustine, "You have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you."

The 17th-century French philosopher Blaise Pascal called it the God-shaped hole.

Pope Francis called it "nostalgia for God".

Yet despite our innate nature to long for God's blessings, they don't always come in our timing.

The Boy Who Saved A Village

Once upon a time in a small mountain village, it was the custom for the villagers to strap on their knapsacks each morning. Then, during the day, each time they worried about something or felt depressed about a problem, they would pick up a small pebble and put it in their knapsack. The knapsacks were heavy and a burden to carry because the villagers never emptied them. They carried their burdens every day. It was all they knew.

One day one of the village elders walked down to the river bank bent over from his knapsack full of burdens and noticed one of the small boys from the village skipping pebbles across the water. The boy's knapsack was empty.

What are you doing? the old man asked. And why is your knapsack empty?

Why aren't you carrying your burdens like the rest of us?

"I come down to the river bank at the end of each day," the boy said, "and skip my pebbles across the water until my knapsack is empty. I see no reason to keep carrying them."

The old man was stunned and so bent over from his knapsack full of burdens that he could hardly move. He had never seen anyone cast their burdens away like that.

Would you like to try it?  the boy asked.

The old man was hesitant, yet it seemed like such a good idea. Slowly he reached into his knapsack that was large and heavy from all the burdens he had accumulated over many years. He grabbed a pebble and studied it, recalling the burden of pain that he felt when he had placed it in his knapsack. He was so bent over that it was difficult to cast the burden away and watch it skip across the water and finally disappear, but he somehow did it.

The boy smiled.

The old man smiled also. It was easier than he thought to let go of the burden.

Then he tossed another pebble, another burden, then another, and another. The boy stayed and watched. They built a fire and the old man kept throwing until his knapsack was at last empty. He felt so relieved.

The next day the old man, standing straight and tall, told the other villagers what happened and how good he felt. They could see how happy he was, how he looked and acted like a different person. They were amazed.

At the end of the day, all the villagers joined the old man and the small boy and went to the river bank and skipped their burdens across the water until their knapsacks were empty. They were amazed at how good and happy they felt. They never continued to hang onto their burdens again.

A sign was erected at the entrance to the village that said,

IT'S HARD TO BE ON TOP OF THE WORLD WHEN YOU'RE CARRYING IT ON YOUR SHOULDERS. LET GO AND LIVE.

Everything Is Black & White: everything!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m1X0QTTtPmc

It's a mad, mad world!

A missionary tells of his experience about being assigned a car that would not start without a push.

After pondering this problem, he devised a plan. He went to the school near his home, got permission to take some children out of class, and had them push his car off. As he made his rounds, he would either park on a hill or leave the engine running.

He used this ingenious procedure for two years.

When a new missionary came to take over his station, he proudly began to explain his arrangement for getting the car started. As he was talking, the young missionary picked up the hood only to find that the only trouble was a loose cable. He gave the cable a twist, stepped into the car, pushed the switch, and the engine roared to life.

For two years, needless trouble had become routine -- but the power was there all along -- and the only thing that was needed was a better connection!

A beautiful wife with bad vision: a devoted husband

https://www.foxnews.com/lifestyle/elderly-man-goes-to-beauty-school-to-learn-to-do-his-wifes-make-up

The African Impala (an African antelope) are amazing creatures that can jump to a height of over 10 feet and cover a distance greater than 30 feet.

Yet Impalas can be kept in a zoo inside an enclosure with a simple 3-foot wall.

Why?

Impalas will not jump if they can't see where their feet will land.

"Faith does not operate in the realm of the possible. There is no glory for God in that which is humanly possible. Faith begins where man's power ends." ~George Mueller

During the gold rush, a man who had been mining in Colorado for several months quit his job, as he hadn't struck gold yet and the work was becoming tiresome.  He sold his equipment to another man who resumed mining where it had been left off. The new miner was advised by his engineer that there was gold only three feet away from where the first miner stopped digging.

The engineer was right, which means the first miner was a mere three feet away from striking gold before he quit.

The Moral =

When things start to get hard, try to persevere through the adversity. Many people give up on following their dreams because the work becomes too difficult, tedious, or tiresome but often, you're closer to the finish line than you may think, and if you push just a little harder, you will succeed.

Quality of character

An official of a mission board, who knew it takes more than just desire to make a missionary, was appointed to examine a candidate for the mission field.

He told the young man to be at his house at six o'clock in the morning. The young man complied and arrived a six o'clock sharp. The examiner kept him sitting alone in the room until ten.

Then he finally came in and said abruptly, " Young man, can you write your name?"

A little taken aback by the simplicity of his question, the man paused.

Before he could get a word out, the examiner blurted, "What, you don't know what it is?"

The mission board official put him through a series of questions of that nature and then went to report to the mission board.

"Okay," he said, "he will do."

I tried his patience for hours and hours and he did not break down; Then I insulted him and he did not lose his temper....

This candidate answered with patience, fortitude, and gentleness. His faith was vindicated by the very quality of his character. He will make a good missionary.

Fear

There is an old Indian fable that tells of a mouse who was in constant distress because of its fear of cats.

So a magician took pity on it and turned it into a cat so it would have no more fear.

Now as a cat, it was in fear of dogs.

So the magician turned it into a dog.

Now, as a dog, it was stressed out in fear of tigers.

Then the magician turned the dog into a tiger.

Now, as a tiger, it was shaking in fear of hunters.

The magician finally said to the tiger,

"Be a mouse again. You only have the heart of a mouse, and I cannot help you."

I Will Walk Again

https://www.philhenrypowergospel.org/video/power-message-special-118-i-will-walk-again-the-inspiring-story-of-justus-edwards/ (https://www.philhenrypowergospel.org/video/power-message-special-118-i-will-walk-again-the-inspiring-story-of-justus-edwards/)

"Hard work always pays off;  mere talk puts no bread on the table. The wise accumulate wisdom;  fools get stupider by the day." -MSG

Hope for the hopeless

https://www.philhenrypowergospel.org/video/five-min-power-message-82-she-hurts-cancer-3-10-19/ (https://www.philhenrypowergospel.org/video/five-min-power-message-82-she-hurts-cancer-3-10-19/)

"You're blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.

'You're blessed when you feel you've lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.

You're blessed when you're content with just who you are no more, no less. That's the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can't be bought.

You're blessed when you've worked up a good appetite for God. He's food and drink in the best meal you'll ever eat.
You're blessed when you care. At the moment of being 'care-full', you find yourselves cared for.

You're blessed when you get your inside world, your mind and heart, put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.

You're blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That's when you discover who you really are, and your place in God's family.

You're blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God's kingdom." -MSG

Story of the bamboo

Once upon a time lay a beautiful garden. And there in the cool of the day was the Master of the garden, who went for a walk. Of all the dwellers of the garden, the most beautiful and beloved was a gracious Bamboo. Year after year Bamboo grew yet more beautiful and he was conscious of his Master's love and watchful delight. Yet he was modest and gentle. Often when Wind came to revel in the garden, Bamboo would throw aside his dignity and dance merrily, tossing and swaying and leaping and bowing in joyous abandon. He would lead the great dance of the garden which most delighted his Master's heart.

https://renatoamato.com/en/soul-care/the-story-of-bamboo/ (https://renatoamato.com/en/soul-care/the-story-of-bamboo/)

A street preacher and the birth of a man of God.

In a tiny farming community in western Pa. a remarkable man of God was born.

In the progression of his life he worked for a tire company. While on his way home from work one day, he overheard a street preacher say "If you don't know how to be saved just call on God saying Lord, be merciful to me a sinner."

Upon returning home he climbed into the attic and heeded the preacher's advice. On that fateful day God called a modern day prophet to Himself.

His name: Aiden W. Tozer (A.W. Tozer)

A.W. Tozer (http://www.cmalliance.org/about/history/tozer)

Mickey Rooney

Rooney's private life was turbulent, and his eight marriages became the fodder for late-night comedians jokes. But the challenges he survived.

After the deaths of his mother and fifth wife in 1966, he battled substance abuse and financial problems. In the depths of the valley Rooney had an unusual encounter that he said changed his life.

Over breakfast at a Lake Tahoe casino coffee shop, Rooney was greeted by a busboy with blond curls, a white-rose complexion, and shining teeth, he recounted.

When the young man called his name, Rooney started to stand, thinking he had a telephone call. But the busboy leaned toward him and whispered in his ear, Mr. Rooney, Jesus Christ loves you very much.

Then the mysterious busboy vanished.

When Rooney looked for the young man and gave his description to the manager of the establishment, he was told that no such person worked there. Rooney believed he was visited by an angel.

By the 1990s Mickey boldly proclaimed a very orthodox faith centered on Jesus Christ as his Savior and being an unabashed Christian.

I've given my life to God and I try and do the right thing, but inevitably, and unfortunately, I do the wrong thing. I suffer from being human.

More money or more time?

A study by researchers at the University of Pennsylvania and University of California Los Angeles wanted to find out, "if you had to choose between more time and more money, what would it be?" While they found most respondents answered, "more money", they also found that those who preferred "more time" were generally happier!

A wealthy businessman was shocked to see a fisherman sitting beside his boat, playing with a small child.

The businessman asked, "Why aren't you out fishing?" The fisherman replied, "Because I've caught enough fish for one day."

"Why don't you catch some more?" the businessman further inquired.

"What would I do with them?" asked the fisherman.

"You could earn more money," said the businessman. "Then with the extra money, you could buy a bigger boat, go into deeper waters, and catch more fish. Then you would make enough money to buy nylon nets. With the nets, you could catch even more fish and make more money. With that money, you could own two boats, maybe three boats. Eventually, you could have a whole fleet of boats and be rich like me."

"Then what would I do?" replied the fisherman.

"Then you could really enjoy life," answered the businessman. The fisherman looked at the businessman quizzically and asked, "What do you think I'm doing now?"

Between the years 1861-1865 the United States found itself in the midst of a bitter civil war over the issue of slavery, and several other serious disagreements. By the time the North won the war nearly 620,000 soldiers had perished. There were many in the North who were so embittered that the South had dragged them into such a deadly conflict that they wanted the South to pay dearly.

At the end of the war, a group of Southerners gained an audience with President Abraham Lincoln.

His gentle, kind and friendly personality quickly softened the hearts of his once-hardened foes and the Southerners left the interview with a deep respect for the man who had been their bitter enemy. Not long afterward, a northern congressman criticized Lincoln for "befriending the enemy!" He suggested that he should have had them shot for being traitors instead of welcoming them!

His response = He said, simply ,

"Am I not destroying my enemies by making them my friends?"

The Two Wolves

A Cherokee was instructing his grandson about a battle that goes on in every human being. He said to the young man, the battle is between two wolves. One wolf is slothful, cowardly, vain, arrogant, and full of self-pity, sorrow, regret, envy and anger. The other wolf is diligent, courageous, humble, benevolent, and full of compassion, joy, empathy and faith.

Then there was a silence.

The grandson thought about the wolves for a moment and then asked his grandfather, "which wolf wins?"

The Cherokee elder replied, "the one you feed".

The Cracked Pot

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water. At the end of the long walks from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments.

But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream.

I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot?s side?" That''s because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house.


Moral

Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. In this world, nothing goes to waste. You may think like the cracked pot that you are inefficient or useless in certain areas of your life, but somehow these flaws can turn out to be a blessing in disguise.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

The Story Behind the Hymn

You don't need to be rescued from life-threatening danger or see God's miraculous provision in the direst of financial crises to truly know the faithfulness of the Lord. God remains faithful day in and day out in the largest and smallest of circumstances.

Thomas Chisholm wrote Great Is Thy Faithfulness as a testament to God's faithfulness through his very ordinary life.

Born in a log cabin in Franklin, Kentucky, Chisholm became a Christian when he was twenty-seven and entered the ministry when he was thirty-six, though poor health forced him to retire after just one year. During the rest of his life, Chisholm spent many years living in New Jersey and working as a life insurance agent. Still, even with a desk job, he wrote nearly 1,200 poems throughout his life, including several published hymns.

Chisholm explained toward the end of his life,

My income has not been large at any time due to impaired health in the earlier years which has followed me on until now. Although I must not fail to record here the unfailing faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God and that He has given me many wonderful displays of His providing care, for which I am filled with astonishing gratefulness.

Just think, with each new day, God gives us the chance to prove His faithfulness. And throughout history, He's never once been proven wrong, for His mercies are new every morning, no matter what.

https://songselect.ccli.com/Search/Results?List=contributor_P401539_Thomas%20Obediah%20Chisholm (https://songselect.ccli.com/Search/Results?List=contributor_P401539_Thomas%20Obediah%20Chisholm)

A Goose Tale

https://ca.yahoo.com/news/goose-massachusetts-had-undergo-surgery-100051685.html

Hopeless Plan =

https://ca.yahoo.com/news/tried-walk-water-florida-york-184139088.htm

One day a passerby saw a homeless man on the roadside. He stopped for a moment to hand him some loose change and casually said "God bless you, my friend."

"I thank God," said the homeless man, "I am never unhappy."

"What do you mean?" the passerby asked.

"Well," he said, "when the sun is out, I thank God -- when it rains, I thank God. When I am full, I thank God and when I am hungry, I thank God. And, since God's will is my will, and whatever pleases Him pleases me, why should I say I am unhappy when I am not?"

The man looked at him in astonishment and asked, "Who are you?"

"I am a King," said he.

"Where, then, is your Kingdom?" asked the man.

"In my heart." The homeless man replied.

Wm. Wilberforce

William Wilberforce led a campaign against the British Parliament to abolish slavery in the late 1700's and early 1800's.

During the course of his intense efforts, Wilberforce came to a desperate place of discouragement, feeling he had absolutely no more strength to continue.

In this condition, he was about to give up, when his elderly friend, John Wesley, lying on his deathbed, was informed of his friend William's distress.

Wesley requested pen and paper, and with a quivering hand, wrote these words....

"Unless God has raised you up for this very thing, you will be worn out by the opposition of men and devils. But if God be for you, who can be against you? Are all of them stronger than God? Oh be not weary of well-doing! Go on, in the name of God and in the power of his might, till even American slavery shall vanish away before it."

John Wesley died six days later, but William Wilberforce fought for forty-five more years, and in 1833, three days before his own death, witnessed the abolition of slavery in Britain.

The Ant and the Contact Lens

Brenda was almost halfway to the top of the tremendous granite cliff. She was standing on a ledge where she was taking a breather during this, her first rock climb. As she rested there, the safety rope snapped against her eye and knocked out her contact lens. "Great", she thought. "Here I am on a rock ledge, hundreds of feet from the bottom and hundreds of feet to the top of this cliff, and now my sight is blurry."

She looked and looked, hoping that somehow it had landed on the ledge. But it just wasn't there.

She felt the panic rising in her, so she began praying. She prayed for calm, and she prayed that she may find her contact lens.

When she got to the top, a friend examined her eye and her clothing for the lens, but it was not to be found. Although she was calm now that she was at the top, she was saddened because she could not clearly see across the range of mountains. She thought of the bible verse "The eyes of the Lord run to and fro throughout the whole earth."

She thought, "Lord, You can see all these mountains. You know every stone and leaf, and You know exactly where my contact lens is. Please help me."

Later, when they had hiked down the trail to the bottom of the cliff they met another party of climbers just starting up the face of the cliff. One of them shouted out, "Hey, you guys! Anybody lose a contact lens?"

Well, that would be startling enough, but you know why the climber saw it? An ant was moving slowly across a twig on the face of the rock, carrying it!

The story doesn't end there. Brenda's father is a cartoonist. When she told him the incredible story of the ant, the prayer, and the contact lens, he drew a cartoon of an ant lugging that contact lens with the caption, "Lord, I don't know why You want me to carry this thing. I can't eat it, and it's awfully heavy. But if this is what You want me to do, I'll carry it for You."

I think it would do all of us some good to say, "God, I don't know why You want me to carry this load. I can see no good in it and it's awfully heavy. But, if You want me to carry it, I will."

God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

Yes, I do love GOD. He is my source of existence and my Savior. He keeps me functioning each and every day. Without Him, I am nothing, but with Him....I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me. (Phil. 4:13)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5zP14_8meo

A Grateful Customer's Letter To His Late Wife's Hairdresser

Since the start of the lockdown, many people have joked and laughed about missing barbers and hairdressers as their hair has grown longer and shaggier than ever before. Social media has been flooded with hilariously cringe worthy images of DIY haircuts, from the lopsided to the patchy, a style now commonly referred to as the pandemic haircut.

For Illinois hairdresser Sara Verkuilen, receiving a heartfelt letter from a customer reminded her of the power a simple haircut can have.

It was sent from a man whose wife had gotten a haircut from Sara in December of last year. His wife was suffering from dementia. Sara had no idea what an impression she made on this couple until now.

"Dear Sara,

This is a little bit awkward. But I've waited a really long time to pass this on to you.

My wife and I came in for haircuts shortly before Christmas of last year.

My wife was suffering from dementia, and you treated her as if you'd been working with dementia patients all your life. You let us sit next to each other, and when it came time for her cut you turned her chair towards me so I could watch her expression as you cut her hair.

It turned out even better than I thought it would.

Sadly, she died in March. And that haircut was one of the last, best moments of her life. She felt so pretty. She visited the mirror in her bathroom several times during the day and would come out beaming.

To see her so happy was priceless.

Looking back, it was likely dozens of haircuts you gave that day. But one which revitalized a woman's sense of self and her singular beauty. I hope you always realize the power of your profession.

It's so easy to take things like that for granted.

Sincerely,

A grateful customer"

One small act can make one big difference in a day, in a life.

FL, I enjoy these stories of yours.  About the ant and the contact lens, I had something like that happen, but it was an irreplaceable part dropped on the floor, and "poof" it was gone  I prayed, and found it easily.

Quote from: Lazarus Short on September 26, 2021, 07:33:17 PM
FL, I enjoy these stories of yours.  About the ant and the contact lens, I had something like that happen, but it was an irreplaceable part dropped on the floor, and "poof" it was gone  I prayed, and found it easily.

:URWelcome:

My brother Laz: our Lord is very very good indeed.

I Want To Die Broke

Giving while living. Chuck Feeney is spending most of his fortune on charity while he's alive to see its impact. In fact, his goal is to die broke.

Chuck Feeney, co-founder of retail giant Duty Free Shoppers, was once a billionaire. Over his lifetime, he amassed a fortune of over $8 billion dollars selling luxury goods to tourists. Now age 90 he has nothing left and couldn?t be happier.

It was Feeney's lifetime ambition to give away his entire fortune before he died, a concept he called Giving While Living, spend most of your fortune on charity while you are alive to see its impact instead of funding a foundation upon death.

As he signed papers to formally dissolve his foundation, The Atlantic Philanthropies, Feeney said he was very satisfied with completing this on my watch and urged other members of the super-rich to try it, you'll like it.

Wealth brings responsibility, he often said. People must define themselves, or feel a responsibility to use some of their assets to improve the lives of their fellow humans, or else create intractable problems for future generations.

Over the last four decades, Feeney donated his wealth to charities, universities, human rights groups and foundations worldwide all while living a remarkably frugal lifestyle. Feeney didn't own a car or a home, he only had one pair of shoes and flew economy class even when his family or friends who were on the same plane flew business.

Christopher Oechsli, the president and chief executive of The Atlantic Philanthropies, said Feeney would not preach his views to other members of the global super-rich, But he would scratch his head and say how many yachts or pairs of shoes do you need? What is all this wealth accumulation about, when you can look about you and see such tremendous needs, as shared in an article by The Guardian.

Unlike many wealthy philanthropists who greatly publicize their charitable efforts, all of Feeney's donations throughout his lifetime were made anonymously. Because of his clandestine, globe-trotting philanthropy campaign, Forbes magazine dubbed him the James Bond of Philanthropy.

His nightmares began each day when he awoke.

James Stegalls was nineteen. He was in Vietnam. Though he carried a small Gideon New Testament in his shirt pocket, he couldn't bring himself to read it. His buddies were cut down around him, terror was building within him, and God seemed far away. His twentieth birthday passed, then his twenty-first. At last, he felt he couldn't go on.

On February 26, 1968, he prayed for it all to end, and his heart told him he would die before dusk.

Sure enough, his base came under attack that day and Jim heard a rocket coming straight toward him. Three seconds to live, he told himself, then two, then...A friend shoved him into a grease pit, and he waited for the rocket to explode, but there was only surreal silence. The fuse malfunctioned.

For five hours James knelt in that pit, and finally, his quivering hand reached into his shirt pocket and took out his Testament. Beginning with Matthew, he continued through the first 18 chapters.

"When I read Matthew 18:19-20," he said, "I somehow knew things would be alright."

Long after Jim returned home, as he visited his wife's grandmother, Mrs. Harris, she told him a night years before when she had awakened in terror. Knowing Jim was in Vietnam, she had sensed he was in trouble. She began praying for God to spare his life. Unable to kneel because of arthritis, she lay prone on the floor, praying and reading her Bible all night.

Just before dawn, she read Matthew 18:19-20. Then she immediately called her Sunday school teacher, who got out of bed and went to Mrs. Harris' house where together they claimed the Lord's promise as they prayed for Jim until reassured by God's peace.

Having told Jim the story, Mrs. Harris opened her Bible to show him where she had marked the passage. In the margin were the words -- "Jim, February 26, 1968."

One of Frances Dupris fondest childhood memories is having chicken pox.

No, it wasn't because the illness was fun. Rather, what she remembers with such nostalgia is that having chicken pox meant that she got to spend an extended period of time with her grandmother, Louise Eagle Tail Quick Bear, and great-grandmother, Rebecca Quick Bear, who took care of her while she was sick.

When I had chicken pox it was great because we would all have breakfast together and pray together, and I got to listen to my great-grandmother, who spoke only Lakota, says Dupris, winner of this year's Blazing Flame Award. It was such a blessing to have that time.

By no means was Dupris bout with chicken pox the only time her grandmother took care of her.

As a newborn, Dupris came down with pneumonia and was in an incubator clinging to life. The sound of her grandmother's voice reaching her in the incubator remains an indelible first memory. But plenty more memories followed, her grandmother took an active role in her childhood because her parents were young and not entirely equipped to raise Dupris and her sister.

It was a challenging upbringing, one that included periods of homelessness and poverty, but the lessons her grandmother provided were profound. Ever since I can remember, when she had a home it was open to anybody who needed a place to stay, says Dupris. It could be uncles, aunts, and kids, and even people who were not blood-related. She was loving and caring for anybody and everybody.

Dupris has taken those lessons of service and compassion with her throughout her life and career. Today she is a master sergeant in the U.S. Air Force, a senior non-commissioned officer providing specialized intelligence to support the North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD) and the U.S. Northern Command (USNORTHCOM) at Peterson Air Force Base in Colorado. In her nearly 20 years in the military, Dupris has balanced her work and studies, earning both a bachelor's degree in sociology and a master's in organizational leadership.

Though her school, job, and family responsibilities, her husband is from the Cheyenne River Sioux Tribe, have always been significant, Dupris commitment to sharing, teaching, and celebrating her Lakota and Arapaho heritage has remained a priority. The many examples of her efforts include leading a yearlong series of cultural events through the Air Force's American Indian and Alaska Native Employee Resource Group, including an event with Billy Mills, the Oglala Sioux athlete who won a gold medal in the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games in a legendary upset.

Dupris and her husband also devote countless hours to mentoring and helping Native American and Alaska Native students through the Colorado Springs School District's Office of Indian Education. Through both this work and her longtime membership in AISES, Dupris helps students navigate school and scholarship applications and tries to foster networking and professional development opportunities.

In other words, Dupris does exactly what her grandmother taught her: she gives back and provides encouragement to those who need it. It's a message she wants all students to hear, no matter how trying their circumstances may be. My message is, don't give up. As humans we go through adversity in life, and as Natives we have more barriers in life than most, she says. Know that your ancestors are walking with you. Overcoming adversity is what makes you stronger and more experienced to share with those going through hard times. We are still fighting to have a voice in this world, for our voice to be heard, and for change to happen. You can be that change.

A rattlesnake bit one of my sheep in the face about a week ago. Deadliest snake that lives around here. The sheep's face swelled up and hurt her terribly.

But the old rattlesnake didn't know the kind of blood that flows through the sheep. Anti-venom is most often made from sheep's blood.

The sheep swelled for about 2 days but the blood of the lamb destroyed the venom of the serpent.

I was worried but the sheep didn't care. She kept on eating, kept on drinking and kept on climbing because she knew she was alright.

Often the serpents of this life will reach out and bite us. They inject their poison into us but they cannot overcome the blood of the Lamb of God that washes away the sin of the world and the sting of death. Don't worry about the serpent or his bite, just make sure that the Lamb's blood is flowing through your veins.

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2005-05-23/sheeps-blood-provides-rattlesnake-anti-venom/1576314#:~:text=The%20blood%20of%20sheep%20in,in%20South%20Australia's%20Clare%20Valley.

Pouring rain, a broken down scooter, an old lady, four young men.

Lending a helping hand will always be appreciated.

Four young men learned that firsthand after they received praise for escorting a retirement home resident back to her residence when her scooter broke down in the middle of a storm.

The men were passing through the area after a hard day?s work, but noticed the woman just when they were about to turn onto an eight-lane highway.

"We noticed the woman was clearly experiencing a malfunction with her mobile scooter," said John Morgan Massa, a corporate general manager at Rebounderz Adventure Parks, in an interview with Fox News.

"We were tired, dirty and wanted to get back to the hotel; but, knew without a doubt that regardless of our long day, it certainly wasn't worse than the day this lady was having. She literally had a plastic bag on her head to keep her hair dry," he added. "We knew we couldn't leave her in the rain, in the middle of the road, frantically trying to get her scooter to work again."

https://www.foxnews.com/lifestyle/men-help-elderly-woman-home-broken-scooter-rain (https://www.foxnews.com/lifestyle/men-help-elderly-woman-home-broken-scooter-rain)

Have you  heard how a pearl is formed?

It is truly fascinating. A foreign object, often a grain of sand, somehow makes its way into the tightly sealed crack of an oyster. Instead of spitting out this irritating object, the oyster covers it with layer upon layer of a substance secreted from its own body. After months or even years, a beautiful pearl is formed. The longer the pearl stays in the oyster, the more valuable it becomes.

What a picture of God's mercy toward us!

The Lord doesn't spit us out when we come to Him! "We are accepted in the beloved!" God has every right to cast us out because of our sin but instead, He brings us into His body and covers over our sin with His beautiful covering!

When God found us we were nothing more than an irritation, but by His grace,He keeps us under His covering, so that we can be made into something valuable to His Kingdom!

God is using our time now under His covering to conform us into His image!

More wonderful stories - thank you!

My friend Laz: it is always a delight seeing you again. I  appreciate the place you hold within the fellowship of the mystery.

"The kingdom of heaven is like unto a merchant man, seeking goodly pearls: who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had, and bought it."

In Matthew 13, we see that a merchant sold all that he had to purchase a single pearl. But why, of all things, a pearl?

A jeweler would surely question the choice the Lord made.

Why not a much coveted diamond? A diamond is graded in value according to the the 4 C's

Cut, colour, clarity & carat-weight.

The diamond receives a substantial portion of its value from the way a person cuts it -- the work of man's hand.

The only natural gemstone that has more value when it is found than when men finish it is the pearl.

Stage 4 Cancer Plus Prayer

As the pastor of the Federated Church of Bondurant in Iowa, Jeff Sanderson is no stranger to the power of prayer, the existence of miracles and the greatness of God. That knowledge recently grew even stronger and more personal after God blessed him with an incredible miracle. And the story of Jeff's divine healing is nothing short of incredible!

The trouble started when Jeff experienced a sharp pain on the right side of his lower back. The pain persisted, and Jeff's doctor noticed his enlarged prostate and elevated PSA levels, a protein produced by the prostate gland. He gave him some medicine intended to help shrink the prostate and suggested Jeff follow up with a urologist.

The trouble started when Jeff experienced a sharp pain on the right side of his lower back. The pain persisted, and Jeff's doctor noticed his enlarged prostate and elevated PSA levels, a protein produced by the prostate gland. He gave him some medicine intended to help shrink the prostate and suggested Jeff follow up with a urologist.

The urologist found nothing suspicious and explained that an enlarged prostate was fairly common for a man in his early fifties. But when the pain grew unbearable, a CT scan suggested that Jeff needed to be biopsied for potential prostate cancer.

And yet, he got this terrifying news, the pain  which had become overwhelming  immediately disappeared. Jeff didn't know it yet, but this was just the first touch from God's healing hand!

A week after the biopsy, Jeff got a call from the urologist. And the words that followed were terrifying, even for a man of great faith:

I have some bad news. You have prostate cancer and it's the most aggressive form.

Jeff's doctor referred him to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota for more evaluation and testing. There, they injected body with a radioactive dye. The doctors explained that this would allow them to scan for cancer. With the radioactive dye, the parts of Jeff's body affected by cancer would show up as a fluorescent green.

Before showing the scans to Jeff, his wife, and two sons, the doctors spent some time alone in the room with Jeff, giving him a total physical of his body. They repeatedly asked him, Does this hurt? Each time, Jeff replied no.

Jeff's family returned to the room, and the doctors did their best to delicately break the news. But nothing could have prepared Jeff and his family for what the scan showed.

When the doctors turned the computer screen towards the family, Jeff's name and birthdate were at the top of the screen. Beneath it was the outline of Jeff's body.

My body was lit up like a Christmas tree. I was absolutely filled with cancer, from my knees to the top of my shoulder blades.

The dye revealed tumors in Jeff's abdomen and urethra, the bones in his femurs, hip bones, tailbone, his ribs, vertebra and collar bones. . . cancer covered all of them. Further tests estimated Jeff had cancer in over 100 lymph nodes. Doctors officially diagnosed him with Stage 4 Cancer on June 3, 2015.

Doctors didn't' give Jeff any guesses on life expectancy, but a quick Google search suggested he had 12 to 14 months. . . at best.

My family and I were devastated, but not without faith and hope.

Jeff's two older sons had joined him and his wife, Kathy, on the trip to Minnesota. But the couple also had two younger children, Josh (10) and Lydia (8).

Jeff didn't want to worry them, so he shared only the basics of his condition. Then, because he didn't want to scare his family, he turned to God with a somewhat unusual request:

For some reason, I didn't ask Him to heal me at the time. I simply asked Him, Lord, if I'm not going to die right away, could you please keep me looking normal during my chemo treatment so my kids don't have to worry.

As Senior Pastor at his church, Jeff next shared the disheartening news with his congregation. And his church family did what church family does best, they prayed!

Upon the startling announcement of his Stage 4 cancer diagnosis, the congregation immediately gathered around their beloved Pastor and prayed. They left the four walls of the church that day, and they kept praying. Word traveled, and soon other churches and members of the Bondurant community were praying for Jeff. He says he even received multiple calls from complete strangers, Christians who were calling to let him know they were praying for divine healing.

And so, the cancer treatments began. Doctors and nurses gave Jeff a list of things to expect. They said,You will lose your hair and your skin will turn pale. You'll start retaining fluid in your face and ankles. Your red and white blood cell count drop dramatically, so you'll often be fatigued. You'll lose muscle and body tone. Your immune system will deteriorate, so don't be surprised if you get sick a lot.

Lastly, they warned Jeff that the particular type of cancer he had was a complex and aggressive form that was self-sustaining. This meant that, while the chemo would help slow the advance of cancer, it would not be able to cure him.

Basically, they were telling Jeff he was in for one rough ride, with no hope of being cured.

But with God, nothing is impossible!

Despite the long list of negative side effects Jeff received from medical staff, God was faithful in answering Jeff's special prayer for his chemo treatments. The only place Jeff lost any hair was in places that remain covered in day-to-day life. He never lost any hair on his head.

On the contrary, Jeff says he needed three haircuts during the 18-week treatment, and the hair on his arms and legs actually grew longer!

His skin never lost its tan, nor did he experience any swelling. His blood cell count,  both red and white, never dipped below normal. The red count even ran on the high side! He never got sick, nor fatigued. He and his wife spent every day waking up at 5 a.m. to walk three miles, and Jeff stayed active at the gym. Through it all, he never lost any muscle tone.

The typical telltale signs of chemo were so absent that the nurses regularly assumed Jeff was just starting treatment. When he corrected them, they were always curious as to how he was faring so well. To which Jeff always told them it was by the power of God!

But Jeff's'healthy outward appearance didn't change the fact that cancer riddled his insides. And the tumors were growing to the point that Jeff could physically feel them.

A week before Jeff and Kathy returned to the Mayo Clinic for a new round of body scans, Jeff woke Kathy up at 4 in the morning. Jeff could feel the tumor in his abdomen, and it had grown so large that it was starting to expand under his rib cage. He shared the news with Kathy, and the two held each other as they cried together.

The two returned to the Mayo Clinic and Jeff continued to feel the tumors growing. He could trace the outlines with his hands.

Before heading into the next round of scans, Jeff dropped to his knees on the bathroom floor and asked God to have mercy on him. Still, he felt the physical presence of the tumors as the medical team ran the tests.

The results wouldn't be ready for them to review until later in the afternoon, so Jeff and Kathy decided to grab lunch at a nearby restaurant. They walked hand in hand with heavy hearts, when something on the ground, near the curb, caught Jeff's eye. It was a rubber bracelet with the message: FAITH Rx.

In that very moment, we knew that God was reminding us to put our faith in Him. And as I put the bracelet on my wrist, I knew that however things went, the Lord would make a way for my family and I to get through the storm.

Jeff and Kathy both dreaded the inevitable news as it came time to review his scans. They felt certain Jeff's cancer must be worse.

They met first with the doctor proctor. Jeff and his wife could not see the computer screen displaying Jeff's scan from where they sat. So, when the proctor said, they look pretty good, Jeff assumed he meant this relatively speaking in regards to his Stage 4 condition.

Then the proctor went on, saying:

Actually, they look really good. To be honest, the scans look as good as they possibly could.

It was then that Jeff stood up to see the computer screen with his results. Like before, the top had his name and birthdate. But the picture beneath was completely different than before. In the original scan, Jeff's body had lit up like a Christmas tree. But in this scan, there wasn't so much as a speck of fluorescent green.

Where's my cancer? Jeff asked.

The proctor replied, You don't have any!

Jeff fell to his knees before God. As tears of joy and amazement streamed down his face, he praised the Great Physician who had healed him. Excitedly, he told the proctor all about the Lord of miracles and the power of prayer. The proctor confirmed that all of Jeff's vitals, his kidney functions and blood work, checked out perfectly. And there was no earthly explanation for it!

He'd actually been able to trace the outline of the one in his abdomen, which had grown so much in size that it was putting pressure on his rib cage. Yet, checking now, it was completely gone, as was the pressure under his rib cage!

The scans were so good that the proctor came back explaining there was no need for the doctor to see him. Jeff had literally walked in with Stage 4 cancer, and through God's divine healing, walked out the same day cancer free!

A hopeless situation for us...but easy peasy for God!  :dsunny: :dsunny: :dsunny: :dsunny: :dsunny: :dsunny: :dsunny:

Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor from England to Zaire Africa, told this as it happened to her in Africa.

One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labour ward; but in spite of all we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator. We had no electricity to run an incubator. We also had no special feeding facilities.

Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle.

She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. And it is our last hot water bottle, the midwife exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk; so, in Central Africa, it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways.

All right, I said, Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can, and sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm.

The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.

During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. Please, God, she prayed, send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby will be dead, so please send it this afternoon.

While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of a corollary, And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl, so she'll know You really love her.

As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, Amen? I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything. The Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland.

I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator, where the weather is hot. So it makes no sense for someone to send me a hot water bottle!

Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two-pound parcel.

I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. The excitement was mounting. Some 30 or 40 pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly coloured, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little bored. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas  that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend.

Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the..could it really be?

I grasped it and pulled it out, yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle! I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly too!?Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted. Looking up at me, she asked: Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her? That parcel had been on the way for five whole months! Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child five months before  and both delivered that day in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it that afternoon.

What a mighty God we serve! He can reverse or fast-forward time and events in order to favour those who serve Him and call upon Him in truth. Rest assured, your own situation is not beyond His power. Trust Him and He will do it.

I just LOVE stories like that!  It puts a smile on my face this Monday morning.   :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup: :thumbsup:

The Gift of the Magi

Over 100 years ago Della, a newlywed, longed to buy a present for her husband Jim. Della and Jim are a young couple who earn a measly $20 a week and live in a humble apartment, the kind furnished by a shabby couch. Though they don't have much, to them, it is their loving home.

Della restlessly counts her change, one dollar and eighty-seven cents, that was all, she laments, before surrendering to her poverty and bursting into tears.

Desperately wishing to buy her husband a new fob chain for his gold watch his most valuable and treasured possession, Della decides to sell her beautiful brunette hair, her most valuable and treasured possession.

Shedding but a tear or two, she goes through with it, trading her beautiful hair to secure the $20 needed to buy a present for Jim.

Later that evening, waiting anxiously for Jim to come home, Della tries to make her newly chopped hair look presentable. When Jim finally arrives, he looks at Della's short hair and is stunned, proceeding to offer up the gift he himself had been busy purchasing for her.

Jim reveals how he afforded such a thing by selling his prized gold watch.

Dell, he says, let's put our Christmas presents away and keep them a while. They're too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs.

Both Della and Jim had unknowingly sacrificed their own greatest treasures to spoil their loved ones.

These sacrifices show that their real greatest treasures were in fact something that they had with them all along, their endless love for one another.

We are often consumed materialistic items in our lives, counting our treasures and comparing ourselves to others and wanting more. The meaning behind the holidays can be lost and forgotten, overshadowed by crowded malls, anxious shoppers and gifts measured by their quantity or price tag.

The Gift of the Magi, serves as a simple reminder, at any time of the year, of the way we should all be livingi wth love first, giving second and possession below all.

There was a man who had four sons.

He wanted them to learn to not judge things too quickly, so he sent them each on a quest to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away. He sent his first son in the winter, his second in the spring, his third in summer and his youngest in the fall.

When they had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe what they had seen.

The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted. The second son said no - it was covered with green buds and full of promise. The third son disagreed, he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful, it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen. The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfilment.

After hearing all his son's responses the father replied, "Sons, you are all right -- because you have each seen only one season in the tree's life. But you cannot judge a tree, or a person, or anything else by only one season. Most things can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons have come to pass".

Running a 100-meter race at 105 years old is no ordinary feat, but for Julia Hawkins, the competition was one of her many achievements.

"This is just a drop in the bucket," Hawkins, who joined the record books for the Louisiana Senior Olympic Games after she became the oldest American and the first woman in the centenarian age group to run a 100-meter race, told CBS News.

With a finishing time of just under 1 minute and 3 seconds, Hawkins described herself as "so happy" for the opportunity, saying she might even do it again.

"Yeah, right now," she joked to a group of reporters after the event, wearing her first-place medal. "[At 106], maybe so. Who knows? I'll have to see how I feel in the morning." (She turns 106 in February.)

"Hurricane," as Hawkins is known by her community, says she stays in shape by jogging a mile or two each day near the Baton Rouge home that she and her husband built in 1948, but the training and the world record do not compare to other things in her life.

After correspondent David Begnaud asked if she was impressed by the record, Hawkins answered: "No, not particularly. I had too many other wonderful things before this. This is just a drop in the bucket."

One of those wonderful things: her 70-year marriage to her husband, Free Hawkins Jr., a former schoolmate at LSU and a soldier in the United States military.

The couple raised four children and were joyously married until "Buddy," as she called him, passed away at 95 years old.

"Without him,  life is not the same. It's not quite as wonderful," Hawkins shared.

Besides running, a passion Hawkins took up after she turned 100-years-old, she enjoys gardening and was a teacher during her working years. Two of her students, Rosemary and Evelyn, 90 and 89 years old respectively, ultimately joined her for the record-setting race.

Wilma Rudolph

In 1940, a large and wonderful  family, the Rudolph's, announced the birth of their 20th baby! Though the baby was not expected to live, having been born prematurely and with polio, she defied all odds. She did live, but by the time she was four she had suffered polio, pneumonia and scarlet fever. This little girl was badly crippled with hardly any use of her left leg. While her brothers and sisters enjoyed running and playing outside, she was left confined to braces.

"Will I ever be able to run and play like the other children?" she asked her parents.

"Honey, you only have to believe," they responded. "If you believe, God will make it happen." And she did! Now and again, she would practice walking without her braces with the aid of her siblings. On her twelfth birthday, she surprised her parents and doctors by removing her braces and walking around the doctor's office unassisted.

She never wore braces again.

Her next goal was to play basketball. The coach only agreed to let her play as a means of getting her older sister on the team. She was given an outdated uniform, but she was allowed to work out with the other players. One day she approached the coach and promised him if he would give her an extra ten minutes of coaching each day, she would give him a world class athlete. He laughed, but seeing she was serious, half-heartedly agreed. Before long her determination paid off. She became one of the team's best players.

Her team went to the state basketball championships. One of the referees noticed her exceptional ability. He asked if she had ever run track. She hadn't. He encouraged her to try it. So after the basketball season she went out for track. She began winning races and earned a berth in the state championships.

At the age of 16, she was one of the best young runners in the country.

She went to the Olympics in Australia and won a bronze medal for anchoring the 400-meter relay team. Four years later in Rome she won the 100-meter dash, the 200-meter dash and anchored the winning 400-meter relay team -- all in world-record times. She received the prestigious Sullivan Award as the most outstanding amateur athlete in America.

This is the amazing story of Wilma Rudolph, an Olympic gold medalist, who believed the promises of God.

The smell of rain

A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery. Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news.

That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced Diana, only24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency Cesarean to deliver the couple's new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing. At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces, they already knew she was perilously premature. Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs. "I don't think she's going to make it," he said, as kindly as he could. "There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one."

Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Dana would likely face if she survived. She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on.

"No! No!" was all Diana could say. She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away. But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. Because Dana's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially 'raw', the lightest kiss or caress only intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl. There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger. But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there.

Next to zero

At last, when Dana turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted.

Five years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story.

One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Dana was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. As always, Dana was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent.

Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked, "Do you smell that?"

Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it smells like rain."

Dana closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?"

Once again, her mother replied, "Yes, I think we're about to get wet. It smells like rain." Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced,

"No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other children. Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that she remembers so well.

Wow, just wow - your stories amaze me!

Clem

In May of 1861, 9-year-old John Lincoln "Johnny" Clem ran away from his home in Newark, Ohio, to join the Union Army, but found the Army was not interested in signing on a 9-year-old boy when the commander of the 3rd Ohio Regiment told him he "wasn't enlisting infants," and turned him down.

Clem tried the 22nd Michigan Regiment next, and its commander told him the same. Determined, Clem tagged after the regiment, acted out the role of a drummer boy, and was allowed to remain. Though still not regularly enrolled, he performed camp duties and received a soldier's pay of $13 a month, a sum collected and donated by the regiment's officers.

The next April, at Shiloh, Clem's drum was smashed by an artillery round and he became a minor news item as "Johnny Shiloh, The Smallest Drummer". A year later, at the Battle Of Chickamauga, he rode an artillery caisson to the front and wielded a musket trimmed to his size. In one of the Union retreats a Confederate officer ran after the cannon Clem rode with, and yelled, "Surrender you damned little Yankee!" Johnny shot him dead. This pluck won for Clem national attention and the name "Drummer Boy of Chickamauga."

Clem stayed with the Army through the war, served as a courier, and was wounded twice. Between Shiloh and Chickamauga he was regularly enrolled in the service, began receiving his own pay, and was soon-after promoted to the rank of Sergeant. He was only 12 years old.

After the Civil War he tried to enter West Point but was turned down because of his slim education.

A personal appeal to President Ulysses S. Grant, his commanding general at Shiloh, won him a 2nd Lieutenant's appointment in the Regular Army on 18 December 1871, and in 1903 he attained the rank of Colonel and served as Assistant Quartermaster General. He retired from the Army as a Major General in 1916, having served an astounding 55 years.

General Clem died in San Antonio, Texas on 13 May 1937, exactly 3 months shy of his 86th birthday, and is buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

Dashrath Manjhi

Dashrath Manjhi was born in to the lowest rung of India's caste system in Gehlaur village, India, and ended up working in coal mines.

When he was an adult, his wife was injured and died because the nearest doctor was in a town 34 miles away.

Because of this experience, Manjhi decided that he was going to make a new roadway through a ridge of hills, in order to make his village more accessible.

Manjhi ended up carving a 110m long path, completing it in 22 years (between 1960 and 1982), using only a hammer and a chisel.

Ultimately, Manjhi's road reduced the distance between the start and finish areas from 34 miles to 9.3 miles.

Desmond Doss

Desmond Doss was a United States Army corporal who served as a combat medic in World War 2. Doss was a conscientious objector, and was picked on by his fellow soldiers, who labelled him a coward. He was made fun of because he did not want to carry a gun and because he did not work on Saturdays because of his religious beliefs.

He became the only conscientious objector to receive the Medal of Honor when he single-handedly saved the lives of 75 men in the Battle of Okinawa, in the process, having his left arm fractured by a sniper?s bullet and 17 pieces of shrapnel in his body.

Wanting to help in the war effort whilst sticking to his personal beliefs, suffering the abuse he did, and then going on to single-handedly save as many men as he did, means that Desmond Doss story deserves to be considered as one of the most inspirational stories in history.

Video has emerged showing a man -- identified as Jim Finch -- setting up a grill in the middle of Mayfield, Kentucky, to prepare food for locals who have been impacted by the tornado that ravaged the town on December 10.

"I just figured I'd do what I can do -- show up with some food and some water," Finch is heard saying on video as debris and rubble can be seen in the background.

Finch traveled an hour and a half to get to Mayfield

"For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; And the government shall be upon His shoulder. And His name will be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace."

During World War I, in the winter of 1914, on the battlefields of Flanders, one of the most unusual events in history took place.

The Germans had been in a fierce battle with the British and French. Both sides were dug in, safe in muddy man-made trenches six to eight feet deep that seemed to stretch forever? but it was Christmas, and what happened next was astonishing.

The Germans set trees on trench parapets and lit the candles. Then, they began singing carols, and though their language was unfamiliar to their enemies, the tunes were not. After a few trees were shot at, the British became more curious than belligerent and crawled forward to watch and listen. And after a while, they began to sing.

By Christmas morning, the "no man's land" between the trenches was filled with fraternizing soldiers, sharing rations and gifts, singing and (more solemnly) burying their dead between the lines. Soon they were even playing soccer, mostly with improvised balls.

Though the war was to continue, the commanders on both sides ordered their troops to restart hostilities, this interval of peace during war was extraordinary and unprecedented.

George Dantzig

During his first year of graduate study at the University of California at Berkeley, George B. Dantzig arrived late for a statistics class. He saw two problems on the blackboard. Assuming they were homework, he copied them and a few days later turned in his solutions.

One Sunday morning six weeks afterward, the professor appeared at Dantzig's door, waving a manuscript. It turned out that the professor had merely written two examples of unsolvable problems on the blackboard. The manuscript was Dantzig's work ready for publication. George Dantzig later became known as the father of linear programming.

Had George arrived in class a little earlier to hear the professor say that these problems "couldn't be solved", he might have never even have tried to solve them -- probably like all the other students in the class.

We humans give up way too easily -- someone says it can't be done and we don't give it a second thought!

Mr. Rogers

Once upon a time, a reporter was assigned the job of writing an article about the TV host of the long-running children's program, Mister Roger's Neighborhood. The reporter was a little skeptical and didn't know quite what to expect. Through his conversations with the beloved star, he thought he'd learn about Fred Rogers. But what actually happened caused the reporter to learn about what was missing in himself, and his relationship with God.

Mister Rogers did all that with a prayer that was just three words long.

Fred Rogers was not just a TV show host. He was also an advocate for Public Television and Children's Rights, and he wondered whether the connections we make with others can help create a Heaven on earth?that when we invest in others and care for them, we create the opportunity to basically ?live' in Heaven (on earth.)

There are miraculous stories about how God used Mister Rogers. There were stories about how he inspired a boy with autism to open up and eventually start speaking. And how a man found his entire life changed after a brief encounter in an elevator with Mister Rogers. And the story about the connection he made with reporter Tom Junod is no different.

According to an article the reporter originally published in 1998, Tom had lost something when he was a child that had shaken his faith. And in their very first meeting, Mister Rogers asked him about it. Throughout their time together, he continued to bring up this beloved childhood toy - Old Rabbit - so intimately tied to Tom's prayer life.

After their introduction, Tom spent a considerable amount of time with Mister Rogers in order to write his now famous profile piece on the beloved children's TV host. It as more than just an interview - the reporter tagged along day after day.

Tom thought he'd get to know the man behind the show - that he'd separate Fred Rogers from the Mister Rogers on-camera persona. But he found there was no difference between the two. Mister Rogers was the same person when the cameras were rolling and when they weren't.

Mr. Rogers and me

I suffered up to one hundred seizures a day as a five-year-old child.  Often during a seizure, I would fall and bang my head on the floor or whatever hard object presented in my descent.

The only way for my mom to shower and dress for work without worrying was to prop me up with soft pillows and place me in front of the TV.  She turned on the children's TV show, Mister Rogers Neighborhood, and I did not have a single seizure for the show's duration.  Something in his voice calmed the electrical circuits in my injured brain and allowed my body some rest.

Continued below

https://www.inspiremore.com/mister-rogers-and-me/ (https://www.inspiremore.com/mister-rogers-and-me/)

Rat who detected land mines in Cambodia dies in retirement

A land mine-detecting rat in Cambodia who received a prestigious award for his life-saving duty has died in retirement.

Magawa, an African giant pouched rat, passed away last weekend. said an announcement on the website of APOPO, a Belgium-headquartered non-profit group. The organization trains rats and dogs to sniff out land mines and tuberculosis.

Magawa was born in November 2013 in Tanzania, where APOPO maintains its operational headquarters and training and breeding center. He was sent to Cambodia in 2016.

The death of Magawa was announced a day after three mine removal experts working for another group were killed by an accidental explosion of an anti-tank mine in Cambodia's northern province of Preah Vihear. Almost three decades of civil war that ended in 1998 left Cambodia littered with land mines and other unexploded ordnance that continues to kill and maim.

According to APOPO, Magawa detected more than 100 land mines and other explosives during his five-year career before retiring last year.

His contribution allows communities in Cambodia to live, work, and play without fear of losing life or limb, said the group. In 2020, the rat also won a gold medal from the Britain-based People's Dispensary for Sick Animals, considered the highest award for gallantry an animal can receive.

African giant pouched rats are believed to be especially well-suited for land mine clearance because their small size lets them walk across mine fields without triggering the explosives.

Magawa

In retirement in Cambodia's northwestern province of Siem Reap, Magawa was housed in his usual cage, and fed the same food, mostly fresh fruit and vegetables, that sustained him during his active career. To keep him trim, he was released for 20-30 minutes a day into a larger cage with facilities such as a sandbox and a running wheel. His death at 8 years of age was not unusual for the species.

President Abraham Lincoln

On January 1st 1863, U.S. President Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation which proclaimed freedom for all slaves in the ten states which were in rebellion.

At the time, when U.S. Secretary of State Seward took the document to the President to sign, Lincoln took a pen, and held it for a moment. He then removed his hand and dropped his pen.

Lincoln turned to Seward and said, "I have been shaking hands since nine o'clock this morning and my right arm is almost paralyzed. If my name ever goes into history, it will be for this act, and my whole soul is in it."

He hesitated, then took the pen, and without wavering, took the document and boldly signed it!

Nobody Cares

There was a man who was imprisoned during Napoleon's reign. While sulking in his dungeon one day, he etched on the wall the words "Nobody Cares".

A few weeks later, through a crack in the dungeon floor, a little green shoot sprang forth, reaching toward the tiny ray of sunlight that came from his small prison cell window.

The prisoner began giving a portion of his daily water to the little shoot and it began to grow.

One morning the man awoke to a beautiful flower. A tear rolling down his face, he crossed out the words, "Nobody Cares" and replaced them with "God Cares."

The story goes on to tell that His devotion to the flower was reported to the Empress Josephine. She was so very moved that she convinced Napoleon to set the man free.

Thomas Edison

Thomas Edison was busy working in his laboratory at 2 a.m. one morning when an assistant came into the room and noticed that the inventor was smiling broadly.

"Have you solved the problem?" he asked.

"No,"replied Edison, "that experiment didn't work at all. Now I can start over again."

Edison could have such a confident attitude because he knew that the road to success is often paved with disappointments that serve to extend the road, not to block it. Each failure brought him a little closer to success.

And He said to me, "It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. I will give of the fountain of the water of life freely to him who thirsts.

The first man was called "Ah-dom", we know him as Adam. The word used for man/ mankind, in Genesis 1, is also the same word  "Ah-dom".

Ah-dom is rooted in the three Hebrew letters, aleph-dalet-mem.

One of the Hebrew words for earth is "Adamah", which contains the same three letters, however it ends with the Hebrew letter "hay".

"Adamah" means "red earth", or "red clay", and this word points to the natural earth elements, the "earth dust" that composed Adam's body, and the body of every human being since.

Man is in a very real sense, clay.

If a piece of clay is to become anything, it has to be molded, and to be moldable it must become wet.

Clay has a tendency to dry out quickly and become hardened, and once that happens, there's not much you can do with it.

Since we are made of clay, we are in constant need of water. This is true both physically, and also spiritually.

The water of His Word welling up through His Spirit will prevent us from becoming dry and hardened, and will enable us to "water" others, even to be, ourselves, a spring of living water.

Studying some remarkable events in the history of World War 2, we find the deliverance of the allied armies at Dunkirk; a true story of Divine providence in modern history.

On May 10, 1940, Hitler unleashed his armies against France and Belgium. Within days, the British army found itself outmaneuvered and unprepared for the German blitzkrieg assault led by General Rommel and his 7th Panzer division.

The German high command began boasting of the demise of the allied armies, particularly the 300,000 soldiers of the British army sent by then Prime Minister Winston Churchill to protect France and the low countries of Europe.

As the prospect of victory waned Churchill was prepared to announce an unprecedented military defeat of a third of a million soldiers.

But then a miraculous turn took place initiated by King George VI, who ordered the observance of a National Day of Prayer. The British Monarch, along with members of the cabinet, attended Westminster Abbey to pray, while millions of Britons all across the Kingdom in unprecedented unity, attended churches to join the King in prayer. Newspapers throughout the UK reported, "Nothing like it has ever happened before."

Then the miracles began:

First, Hitler ordered his troops to halt their advance for no apparent reason, which angered his generals and continues to baffle historians to this day. Secondly, a massive storm broke out in Flanders which grounded the German Luftwaffe squadrons, allowing the allied armies to travel to the beaches at Dunkirk unhindered by the German air force.

A third miracle involving the weather was that simultaneous with the storm which grounded the Luftwaffe, the English Channel was as still as a millpond...an unprecedented calm which allowed ships of every size to evacuate over 338,000 troops including 140,000 French, Belgian, Dutch and Polish soldiers from the beaches at Dunkirk.

Winston Churchill addressed the British nation and described the evacuation of Dunkirk as a miracle of deliverance..

Wow! Great posts FineLinen!  :thumbsup:  Very enjoyable reading and information!

Atomas

"Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep (the sleep of death), but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump..."

The Greek word translated here as moment is actually atomas, from whence we get our English word ATOM.

In other words, the change that is coming, and "the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time" (1 Peter 1:15), will take place on a sub-atomic level---NOT from without, but from within the very cells of our bodies.

It will be the result of the outworking of our salvation that first began in our spirits!

It's true that Jesus came "to seek and to save that which was lost," and to restore us back to the state in which man was originally created in the garden, before death had taken its toll.

A type of this is seen in the Old Testament book of Joshua, when the Israelites were about to cross over into "the promised land," where they would lay claim to their birthright inheritance. As you may recall, the Ark of the Covenant (a picture of Christ) was to be transported across the Jordan River first (the name Jordan means, "the descender;" and it has always been associated with death).

The people were instructed to wait patiently, and not to remove their place to go after it, until there was a space of "about 2000 cubits by measure" between it and them. They were also told to "come not near it, that you may know the way by which you should go; for you have not passed this way heretofore" (Josh 3:4).

Their eyes were to stay fixed on the Ark! Whenever the feet of the priests who were bearing the Ark stepped off of the river bank, a remarkable thing occurred--- the waters parted as they did at the Red Sea, and were rolled upstream, all the way back to a city named---are you ready for this? "ADAM."

Read it for yourself in Joshua 3:16! Surely the symbolism is clear enough, and the shadows are easily interpreted. JESUS our Savior has conquered death some 2000 years ago, when He was raised from among the dead. He alone can show us the way we should go, for we're entering into virgin territory (the "promised land" of a new, redeemed body). The glorious thing about it is, He's not just taking us back to where Adam was, before the Fall occurred; but beyond, to the place where Adam never reached, himself, in the eternal purposes of God (immortality, glorification).

NO ONE has ever passed this way before, save the Ark of God's Presence, Jesus Christ. ~Terry Crisp

Quote from: FineLinen on March 27, 2022, 03:03:49 PM
Atomas

"Behold, I show you a mystery; We shall not all sleep (the sleep of death), but we shall all be changed, in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trump..."

The Greek word translated here as moment is actually atomas, from whence we get our English word ATOM.

In other words, the change that is coming, and "the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time" (1 Peter 1:15), will take place on a sub-atomic level---NOT from without, but from within the very cells of our bodies.

It will be the result of the outworking of our salvation that first began in our spirits!

It's true that Jesus came "to seek and to save that which was lost," and to restore us back to the state in which man was originally created in the garden, before death had taken its toll.

A type of this is seen in the Old Testament book of Joshua, when the Israelites were about to cross over into "the promised land," where they would lay claim to their birthright inheritance. As you may recall, the Ark of the Covenant (a picture of Christ) was to be transported across the Jordan River first (the name Jordan means, "the descender;" and it has always been associated with death).

The people were instructed to wait patiently, and not to remove their place to go after it, until there was a space of "about 2000 cubits by measure" between it and them. They were also told to "come not near it, that you may know the way by which you should go; for you have not passed this way heretofore" (Josh 3:4).

Their eyes were to stay fixed on the Ark! Whenever the feet of the priests who were bearing the Ark stepped off of the river bank, a remarkable thing occurred--- the waters parted as they did at the Red Sea, and were rolled upstream, all the way back to a city named---are you ready for this? "ADAM."

Read it for yourself in Joshua 3:16! Surely the symbolism is clear enough, and the shadows are easily interpreted. JESUS our Savior has conquered death some 2000 years ago, when He was raised from among the dead. He alone can show us the way we should go, for we're entering into virgin territory (the "promised land" of a new, redeemed body). The glorious thing about it is, He's not just taking us back to where Adam was, before the Fall occurred; but beyond, to the place where Adam never reached, himself, in the eternal purposes of God (immortality, glorification).

NO ONE has ever passed this way before, save the Ark of God's Presence, Jesus Christ. ~Terry Crisp

Wow! That is awesome to read! :thumbsup: :cloud9:

Quote from: marie glen on March 28, 2022, 01:05:19 AM


Wow! That is awesome to read! :thumbsup: :cloud9:

Agreed - in fact, I took a nap after reading FL's story...and had a wonderful dream in which I found myself in a wonderful place and thought "I'd died and gone to heaven."

Brother Laz: how you can nap when atomas is calling us forward I will never know (lol).

F.L. took a wee nap a few weeks ago, with the deep knowledge Abba was holding me and speaking words that surpassed my very limited grasp of Him.

My God, Laz, I am continuing to hear "come up higher and I will show you..."

Our Abba is not only speaking words, He is birthing a song within us as His first fruit company.

Quote from: FineLinen on March 28, 2022, 11:54:21 PM
Brother Laz: how you can nap when atomas is calling us forward I will never know (lol).

F.L. took a wee nap a few weeks ago, with the deep knowledge Abba was holding me and speaking words that surpassed my very limited grasp of Him.

My God, Laz, I am continuing to hear "come up higher and I will show you..."

Our Abba is not only speaking words, He is birthing a song within us as His first fruit company.

Fine Linen, I have some of my best insights in dreams.  In one, I met God, and He told me, "Dennis, every time I see you, you're a little bit older and a little bit slower."

I keep a dream diary, but the entries are occasional.  The entry before yesterday's was from last November.  In it, I was inspecting containers of my stuff.  The stuff was like what you remove from a vacuum cleaner, and the containers were dirty and stained.  Junk...all of it.

Quote from: Lazarus Short on March 28, 2022, 06:34:28 PM

Quote from: marie glen on March 28, 2022, 01:05:19 AM


Wow! That is awesome to read! :thumbsup: :cloud9:

Agreed - in fact, I took a nap after reading FL's story...and had a wonderful dream in which I found myself in a wonderful place and thought "I'd died and gone to heaven."

That is so cool! :gsmile:

Quote from: FineLinen on March 28, 2022, 11:54:21 PM
Brother Laz: how you can nap when atomas is calling us forward I will never know (lol).

F.L. took a wee nap a few weeks ago, with the deep knowledge Abba was holding me and speaking words that surpassed my very limited grasp of Him.

My God, Laz, I am continuing to hear "come up higher and I will show you..."

Our Abba is not only speaking words, He is birthing a song within us as His first fruit company.

  :Chinscratch: :banana:  :cloud9:

Quote from: Lazarus Short on March 29, 2022, 03:38:08 AM
Fine Linen, I have some of my best insights in dreams.  In one, I met God, and He told me, "Dennis, every time I see you, you're a little bit older and a little bit slower."

That?s kind of funny! He probably says that to me too! :gsmile:

Quote from: Lazarus Short on March 29, 2022, 03:38:08 AM
I keep a dream diary, but the entries are occasional.  The entry before yesterday's was from last November.  In it, I was inspecting containers of my stuff.  The stuff was like what you remove from a vacuum cleaner, and the containers were dirty and stained.  Junk...all of it.

I have in my bookmarks your Heaven Yes, Hell No thread. I was intending to post it somewhere just today, but then I forgot.. Though I?ll probably remember when I get back on facebook later. (Talk about being older and slower!)
     And now here you are. Good to see you here! :gsmile:

Rattlesnake Anti-Venom =

Sheep blood

A rattlesnake bit one of my sheep in the face about a week ago.

Deadliest snake that lives around here. The sheep's face swelled up and hurt her terribly.

But the old rattlesnake didn't know the kind of blood that flows through the sheep. Anti-venom is most often made from sheep's blood.

The sheep swelled for about 2 days but the blood of the lamb destroyed the venom of the serpent.

I was worried but the sheep didn't care. She kept on eating, kept on drinking and kept on climbing because she knew she was alright.

Often the serpents of this life will reach out and bite us.

They inject their poison into us but they cannot overcome the blood of the Lamb of God that washes away the sin of the world and the sting of death.

Don't worry about the serpent or his bite, just make sure that the Lamb's blood is flowing through your veins.

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2005-05-23/sheeps-blood-provides-rattlesnake-anti-venom/1576314#:~:text=The%20blood%20of%20sheep%20in,in%20South%20Australia's%20Clare%20Valley

Quote from: FineLinen on March 31, 2022, 11:10:24 PM
Rattlesnake Anti-Venom =

Sheep blood

A rattlesnake bit one of my sheep in the face about a week ago.

Deadliest snake that lives around here. The sheep's face swelled up and hurt her terribly.

But the old rattlesnake didn't know the kind of blood that flows through the sheep. Anti-venom is most often made from sheep's blood.

The sheep swelled for about 2 days but the blood of the lamb destroyed the venom of the serpent.

I was worried but the sheep didn't care. She kept on eating, kept on drinking and kept on climbing because she knew she was alright.

Often the serpents of this life will reach out and bite us.

They inject their poison into us but they cannot overcome the blood of the Lamb of God that washes away the sin of the world and the sting of death.

Don't worry about the serpent or his bite, just make sure that the Lamb's blood is flowing through your veins.

https://www.abc.net.au/news/2005-05-23/sheeps-blood-provides-rattlesnake-anti-venom/1576314#:~:text=The%20blood%20of%20sheep%20in,in%20South%20Australia's%20Clare%20Valley

Wow! How awesome is thAt!!  :dsunny:

In Christ name stop!

In the 4th century lived a Christian named Telemachus, in a remote village, tending his garden, and spending much time in prayer. One day, he believed he heard the voice of God telling him to go to Rome, so he obeyed, setting out on foot.

Some weeks later, weary from his journey, he arrived in Rome about the time of a great festival.The little man followed the crowd surging through the streets into the Colosseum. He saw the gladiators standing before the Emperor and proclaiming, "We who are about to die salute you."

Then Telemachus realized that these men were going to fight to the death for the entertainment of the cheering crowd. So he cried out in a loud voice, "In the name of Christ, Stop!" Yet the games began, so he pushed his way through the crowd, climbed over the wall and dropped onto the floor of the arena.

The entire Colosseum watched this tiny figure rushing toward the gladiators, crying, "In the name of Christ, STOP !!!" The gladiators thought it was part of the show and began laughing. But in a few moments, they realized it was not part of the show, and then the crowd became angry. Telemachus stood his ground, insistently pleading with the gladiators to stop their bloody show, when one of them plunged a sword into the saint's body. He fell to the sand. As he was dying, his last words were, "In the name of Christ, STOP!!!"

Then a strange thing happened.

The gladiators stood there looking at the tiny Christian lying there dead. A hush fell over the Colosseum. Way up in the upper rows, a man stood and made his way to the exit. Others followed. In dead silence, one by one, everyone left the Colosseum. The year was 404; and that day saw the last battle to the death between gladiators in the Roman Colosseum. Telemachus' martyrdom initiated an historic ban on gladiator fights by the Roman Emperor Honorius. Never again in the great stadium did men kill each other for the entertainment of the crowd.

One tiny man's bold voice -- one voice -- reshaped Roman history, and saved thousands of lives, by fearlessly proclaiming the truth in God's name!

An experiment

Four ceiling lights were placed in 4 corners of a room but only one plant in a random corner.

The plant would be moved to different corners of the room at random times.

The lights were to go on and off randomly. But, there was a a non-random pattern found. Whatever ceiling light that had the plant beneath it, came on more often than the other three.

https://www.trees.com/gardening-and-landscaping/how-light-affects-plant-growth

Alfred Nobel, the inventor of dynamite, awoke one morning in 1888, shocked to discover his own obituary in the morning news.

The newspaper had mistakenly printed the story about Alfred, instead of his brother, who had just passed away. As he read his own epitaph, the story of the "Dynamite King", the great industrialist who made an immense fortune from explosives -- Alfred Nobel was rudely awakened to the fact that the world viewed him as a merchant of death! The mistake was not wasted on him. Rather, it served as his wake-up call!

As he read his obituary with horror, Alfred resolved to make clear to the world his understanding of the true meaning and purpose of his life. So he used his immense fortune to create a foundation which would promote and embody his ideal for world peace...and he is now remembered, not as the "Dynamite King", but the creator of what we know now as the "Nobel Peace Prize".

It was a bright Sunday morning in 18th century London, but Robert Robinson's mood was anything but sunny.

All along the street, there were people hurrying to church, but in the midst of the crowd, Robinson was a lonely man. The sound of church bells reminded him of years past when his faith in God was strong and the church was an integral part of his life. It had been years since he set foot in a church -- years of wandering, disillusionment, and gradual defection from the God he once loved.

That love for God -- once fiery and passionate -- had slowly burned out within him, leaving him dark and cold inside. Robinson heard the clip-clop, clip-clop of a horse-drawn cab approaching behind him. Turning, he lifted his hand to hail the driver. But then he saw that the cab was occupied by a young woman dressed in finery for the Lord's day. He waved the driver on, but the woman in the carriage ordered the carriage to be stopped.

"Sir, I'd be happy to share this carriage with you," she said to Robinson. "Are you going to church?" Robinson was about to decline, then he paused. "Yes," he said at last. "I am going to church." He stepped into the carriage and sat down beside the young woman. As the carriage rolled forward Robert Robinson and the woman exchanged introductions.

There was a flash of recognition in her eyes when he stated his name.

"That's an interesting coincidence," she said, reaching into her purse. She withdrew a small book of inspirational verse, opened it to a ribbon bookmark, and handed the book to him. "I was just reading a verse by a poet named Robert Robinson. Could it be?"

He took the book, nodding. "Yes, I wrote these words years ago." "Oh, how wonderful!" she exclaimed. "Imagine! I'm sharing a carriage with the author of these very lines!"

But Robinson barely heard her. He was absorbed in the words he was reading. They were words that would one day be set to music and become a great hymn of the faith, familiar to generations of Christians:

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace?
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.

His eyes slipped to the bottom of the page where he read:

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it?
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

He could barely read the last few lines through the tears that brimmed in his eyes. "I wrote these words and I've lived these words. Prone to wander, prone to leave the God I love."

The woman suddenly understood. "You also wrote, Here's my heart, O take and seal it. You can offer your heart again to God, Mr. Robinson.

A woman once asked John Wesley what he would do if he knew that he would die at midnight the next day.

"Why, Madam," he replied, "just as I intend to spend it now. I would preach this evening at Gloucester, and again at five tomorrow morning, after that I would ride to Tewkesbury, preach in the afternoon, and meet the societies in the evening. I would then go to Martin's house...talk and pray with the family as usual, retire myself to my room at 10 o'clock, commend myself to my Heavenly Father, lie down to rest, and wake up in glory."

The Colonial =

Death, Change, Despair, Spices, Broke, Persistance

https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/inspiring-story-harland-sanders-founder-kfc-sharif-anower (https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/inspiring-story-harland-sanders-founder-kfc-sharif-anower)

Have you ever heard about how the Inuit Tribes kill wolves?

First, the Inuit people coat the blade of his knife with animal blood and allow it to freeze. He then adds and freezes more layers of blood, several coats, in fact, until the blade is completely covered with frozen blood. Next, he plants his knife in the snow, the blade facing up, and goes about his business.

When a wolf finds his way to the luring aroma of fresh blood, he starts licking. Then more and more vigorously, lapping it until the sharp blade of the knife is exposed. However, by this point, so intense is his craving for the scrumptious blood, that the wolf does not notice the sharp sting of the blade on his own tongue, nor does he even realize that his ravenous craving is now being satisfied by his very own blood! By the light of dawn, the hunter will find him lying dead in the snow.

Covered By The Cloud

This is a true story as told by Spencer January. It was a morning in early March, 1945, a clear and sunny day. I was 24 years old and a member of the U.S. Army's 35th Infantry Division, 137th Infantry Company I. Along with several other companies of American troops, we were making our way through dense woods, towards the Rhine River in the German Rhineland. Our objective was to reach and take the town of Ossenberg, where a factory was producing gunpowder and other products for use in the war. For hours we had pressed through an unrelenting thicket.

Shortly after midday word was passed that there was a clearing ahead. At last, we thought, the going would be easier. but then we approached a large stone house, behind which huddled a handful of wounded, bleeding soldiers who had tried to cross the clearing and failed. Before us stretched at least 200 yards of open ground, bordered on the far side by more thick woods. As the first of us appeared on the edge of the clearing there was an angry rat-tat-tat and a ferocious volley of bullets sent soil spinning as far as we could see. Three nests of German machine guns, spaced 50 yards apart and protected by the crest of a small hill to the left, were firing across the field. As we got our bearings it was determined that the machine guns were so well placed that our weapons couldn't reach them. To cross that field meant suicide.

Yet, we had no choice. The Germans had blockaded every other route into the town. In order to move on and secure a victory, we had to move forward. I slumped against a tree, appalled at the grim situation. I thought of home, of my wife and my 5-month old son. I had kissed him good-bye just after he was born. I thought that I might never see my family again, and the possibility was overwhelming. I dropped to my knees. "God," I pleaded desperately, "You've got to do something. Please do something." Moments later the order was given to advance. Grasping my M-1 rifle, I go to my feet and started forward. After reaching the edge of the clearing I took a deep breath. But just before I stepped out from cover, I glanced to the left. I stopped and stared in amazement.

A white cloud -- a long fluffy white cloud -- had appeared out of nowhere.

It dropped from over the trees and covered the area. The Germans' line of fire was obscured by the thick foggy mist. All of us bolted into the clearing and raced for our lives. The only sounds were of combat boots thudding against the soft earth as men dashed into the clearing, scrambling to reach the safety of the other side before the mist lifted. With each step the woods opposite came closer and closer. I was almost across! My pulse pounding in my ears, I lunged into the thicket and threw myself behind a tree. I turned and watched as other soldiers following me dove frantically into the woods, some carrying and dragging the wounded. This has to be God's doing, I thought. The instant the last man reached safety, the cloud vanished! The day was again bright and clear. The enemy, apparently thinking we were still pinned down behind the stone house on the other side, must have radioed their artillery. Minutes later the building was blown to bits but our company was safe and we quickly moved on. We reached Ossenberg and went on to secure more areas for the Allies. But the image of that cloud was never far from my mind. I had seen the sort of smoke screens that were sometimes set off to obscure troop activity in such situations. That cloud had been different. It had appeared out of nowhere and saved our lives. Two weeks later, as we bivouacked in eastern Germany, a letter arrived from my mother back in Dallas. I tore open the envelope eagerly. The letter contained words that sent a shiver down my spine.

"You remember Mrs. Tankersly from our church?" my mother wrote. Who could forget her? I smiled. Everybody called Mrs. Tankersly the prayer warrior. "Well," continued Mom, "Mrs. Tankersly telephoned me one morning from the defense plant where she works. She said the Lord had awakened her the night before at one o' clock and told her, 'Spencer January is in terrible trouble. Get up now and pray for him!" My mother went on to explain that Mrs. Tankersly had interceded for me in prayer until six o' clock the next morning, when she had to go to her job. "She told me the last thing she prayed before getting off her knees was this" -- "Lord, whatever danger Spencer is in, just cover him with a cloud!" I sat there for a long time holding the letter in my trembling hand. My mind raced, quickly calculating. Yes, the hours Mrs. Tankersly was praying would indeed have corresponded to the time we were approaching the clearing. With a seven-hour time difference, her prayer for a cloud would have been uttered at one o'clock, the exact time Company I was getting ready to cross the clearing. From that moment on, I intensified my prayer life. For the past 52 years I have gotten up early every morning to pray for others. I am convinced there is no substitute for the power of prayer and its ability to comfort and sustain others, even those facing the valley of the shadow of death.

Waiting

When Louise Adams water broke at 22 weeks, it was bad. Very bad. Doctors said nothing could be done since her baby had not yet reached 24 weeks. They sent her home to wait for her unborn baby to die. But Louise refused to give up. After doing some research, the determined mom drank 3 gallons of water a day and wound up saving her baby boy's life!

https://www.godupdates.com/mom-drank-3-gallons-water-day-saves-baby/

Miracle Baby

If anyone deserved a break, it was Trisha Bell. The mom desperately wanted to make her only son a big brother, but each pregnancy ended in heartache. She suffered seven miscarriages before finally making it to the delivery room. But then, her baby boy was born with no heartbeat.

https://www.godupdates.com/miracle-baby-born-with-no-heartbeat-ezrah/

Poppy

Poppy Smith was born a tiny warrior. As a preemie, she had to fight to survive right away. After overcoming so many obstacles in her first year of life, the baby girl suffered hypoxic brain damage at two. Doctors didn't think she'd survive, let alone ever walk or talk. Then everything changed when her big sister blew kisses on her belly!

https://www.godupdates.com/big-sister-blew-kisses-brain-dead-baby-miracle/#slides

Jocelyn

After 3 healthy babies, you'd think the fourth pregnancy would be a breeze for Ashley Shirley. But this one was completely different. Instead, the mom of three got the worst news possible. Doctors said her baby girl, Jocelyn, had only half a brain, skeletal dysplasia, and would be lucky to live one hour past birth.

So, the faithful family turned to God in prayer, asking for a miracle. And they were more than lucky  they were blessed when prayer saved baby Jocelyn!

https://www.godupdates.com/miracle-baby-jocelyn-born-healthy/ (https://www.godupdates.com/miracle-baby-jocelyn-born-healthy/)

Born with half a heart

Little Reggie suffers from hypoplastic left heart syndrom (HLHS). It's a rare disorder that caused the left side of his tiny heart to form improperly. Even if he survived the birth, Reggie would require a risky open-heart surgery almost right away, and a few more risky procedures in the future, and likely wouldn't live past his teenage years.

Given the struggles he'd face, doctors suggested abortion would be the best option. Lee and Michelle refused to give up on the son they'd waited for so long. And he's already defying the odds!

https://www.godupdates.com/miracle-baby-half-a-heart/

Asher

https://www.godupdates.com/deaf-born-baby-hears-first-words/

Never measure God's unlimited power by your limited expectations!

Marley

Rachel and Michael were worried when Rachel started getting contractions at only 24 weeks. They were terrified when Rachel went in to labor. But God had his hand on their little girl, Marley. At just 1lb 5oz, this miracle baby weighed less than a bunch of grapes, and the tiny warrior has defied all the odds!

https://www.godupdates.com/miracle-baby-weighed-less-than-a-bunch-of-grapes/

Never measure God's unlimited power by your limited expectations!

Peter Miller

Peter Miller was a plain Baptist preacher of Pennsylvania, in the days of the Revolutionary War.

Near his church, lived a man who maligned the pastor to the last degree.

The man became involved in treason and was arrested and sentenced to be hanged.

The preacher, Peter Miller, started out on foot and walked the entire way to Philadelphia roughly seventy miles away to plead for the man's life.

George Washington heard his plea, but he said, No, your plea for your friend cannot be granted.

My friend! said the preacher. He is the worst enemy I have.

What!, said Washington, you have walked nearly seventy miles to save the life of an enemy?

That puts the matter in a different light. I will grant the pardon.

Tsunami

Surrounded by her loving family as she relaxed by the pool on a dream holiday, Maria Belon felt she must be the luckiest woman in the world.

Seconds later, Maria and her terrified husband and three sons were swept away by a ferocious 30 foot wall of water that devoured everything in its path.

Maria was horrifically wounded as she was dragged under water by the devastating Indian Ocean tsunami of Boxing Day 2004.

After being submerged for more than three minutes, she finally surfaced and clung on to a tree.

She was petrified, alone and convinced she was dying ? but in a miracle that has inspired new film The Impossible, the mum and her family survived.

Moments before paradise was smashed to bits, Maria was on a lounger at the Orchid Resort Hotel in Thailand while her boys, Lucas, 10, Tomas, eight, and Simon, five, were playing nearby with their dad.

The mother watched in horror as husband Quique Alvarez and their two youngest boys were submerged by the roaring mass of dark water that carried with it cars and the chalet the family had been staying in.


https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/real-life-stories/real-story-behind-impossible-miracle-1519067 (https://www.mirror.co.uk/news/real-life-stories/real-story-behind-impossible-miracle-1519067)

Tears, missing tooth, airline captain, tooth fairy

Lena and her family were flying from New York to their home state of South Carolina in the US, and on landing, the six-year-old noticed she was missing a tooth.

When they got to baggage claim Lena realised her tooth was missing and must have fallen out.

The six-year-old was overcome with tears after a turbulent 36-hour flight delay.

She was very concerned about losing her tooth because she always puts her lost tooth under her pillow for the tooth fairy, but alas she had nothing to leave.

https://au.news.yahoo.com/united-plane-captain-note-girl-lost-tooth-onboard-044609976.html (https://au.news.yahoo.com/united-plane-captain-note-girl-lost-tooth-onboard-044609976.html)

The Escorial

In Madrid, Spain, there exists the Escorial, one of the greatest cathedrals ever built by man. For centuries the kings of Spain have been buried there.

When that magnificent structure was under construction, the architect designed a vast arch, perhaps bigger than anything that had been built before. That arch was so flat at the top that the reigning king was frightened by the prospect of the tremendous weight of the roof collapsing on his head. He commanded the architect to build a column from the floor all the way to the center of that arch to hold it up.

The architect protested vehemently that it was not needed, but the king insisted and, over the laments of the architect, the column was built.

The king worshipped contentedly in the vast structure, having seen to it himself that the ceiling would not fall.

The years went by, the church stood, and the king finally died. Only then did the architect reveal that between the top of the column and the bottom of the arch there was a quarter of an inch of space.

In all these hundreds of years that have passed the arch has not sunk so much as a quarter of an inch.

Today a board is still passed over the column and under the arch for all to see.

So it is with the plan of God - that over-arching plan that encompasses all of reality and all of life. It needs no human support to hold it up. God is the Lord of all and He is working out His purposes in our lives, in all of the world, and through the whole universe.

During World War II, a U.S. marine was separated from his unit on a Pacific Island.

The fighting had been intense, and in the smoke and the crossfire he had lost touch with his comrades. Alone in the jungle, he could hear enemy soldiers coming in his direction. Scrambling for cover, he found his way up a high ridge to several small caves in the rock. Quickly he crawled inside one of the caves.

Although safe for the moment, he realized that once the enemy soldiers looking for him swept up the ridge, they would quickly search all the caves and he would be killed. As he waited, he prayed, "Lord, if it be your will, please protect me. Whatever your will though, I love you and trust you. Amen."

After praying, he lay quietly listening to the enemy begin to draw close. He thought, "Well, I guess the Lord isn't going to help me out of this one.."

Then he saw a spider begin to build a web over the front of his cave.

As he watched, listening to the enemy searching for him all the while, the spider layered strand after strand of web across the opening of the cave. "Ha," he thought. "What I need is a brick wall and what the Lord has sent me is a spider web. God does have a sense of humor."

As the enemy drew closer he watched from the darkness of his hideout and could see them searching one cave after another. As they came to his, he got ready to make his last stand. To his amazement, however, after glancing in the direction of his cave, they moved on.

Suddenly, he realized that with the spider web over the entrance, his cave looked as if no one had entered for quite a while.

"Lord, forgive me," prayed the young man. "I had forgotten that in you a spider's web are stronger than a brick wall."

Missionaries Dick and Margaret Hillis found themselves caught in China during the Japanese invasion.

The couple lived with their two children in the inland town of Shenkiu. The village was tense with fear, for every day brought terrifying reports of the Japanese advance. At the worst possible time, Dick developed appendicitis, and he knew his life depended on making the long journey to the hospital.

On January 15, 1941, with deep foreboding, Margaret watched him leave. Soon the Chinese colonel came with the news. The enemy was near and townspeople must evacuate. Margaret shivered, knowing that one-year-old Johnny and two-month-old Margaret Anne would never survive as refugees. So she stayed put.

Early next morning she tore the page from the wall calendar and read the new day's Scripture. It was Psalm 56:3 -- What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.

The town emptied during the day, and the next morning Margaret arose, feeling abandoned. The new verse on the calendar was Psalm 9:10 -- Thou, Lord, has not forsaken them that seek thee.

The next morning she arose to distant sounds of gunfire and worried about food and her children. The calendar verse was Genesis 50:21 -- I will nourish you and your little ones.

An old woman suddenly popped in with a pail of steaming goat's milk, and another straggler arrived with a basket of eggs. Through the day, sounds of warfare grew louder, and during the night Margaret prayed for deliverance. The next morning she tore the page from the calendar to read Psalm 56:9 -- When I cry unto Thee, then shall my enemies turn back. The battle was looming closer, and Margaret didn't go to bed that night. Invasion seemed imminent. But the next morning, all was quiet. Suddenly, villagers began returning to their homes, and the colonel knocked on her door. For some reason, he told her, the Japanese had withdrawn their troops. No one could understand it, but the danger had passed.

They were safe. Margaret glanced at her wall calendar and felt she had been reading the handwriting of God.

Hebrews 12:1-3

Wherefore seeing we also are compassed about with so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which doth so easily beset us, and let us run with patience the race that is set before us, Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider him that endured such contradiction of sinners against himself, lest ye be wearied and faint in your minds.

Anyone that has run a marathon can attest to how difficult the race is.  Well, at the 1968 Olympic Games which took place in Mexico City featured a true story of grit and determination.

Hours behind the runner in front of him, the last marathoner finally entered Olympic stadium. By that time, the drama of the day's event was almost over and most of the spectators had gone home. But the story of Tanzanian marathoner John Stephen Akwari was still being played out. Limping into the arena, Akwari grimaced with every step, his knee bleeding and bandaged from an earlier fall. His ragged appearance immediately caught the attention of the remaining crowd, who cheered him on to the finish line.

Why did he stay in the race? What made him endure his injuries to the end? When asked these questions later, he replied, "My country did not send me 7,000 miles away to start the race. They sent me 7,000 miles to finish it!"

The Perfect Mistake

My mother's father worked as a carpenter. On this particular day, he was building some crates for the clothes his church was sending to orphanages in China. On his way home, he reached into his shirt pocket to find his glasses, but they were gone. When he mentally replayed his earlier actions, he realized what had happened; the glasses had slipped out of his pocket unnoticed and fallen into one of the crates, which he had nailed shut. His brand new glasses were heading for China!

The Great Depression was at its height and Grandpa had six children.

He had spent $20 for those glasses that very morning. He was really upset by the thought of having to buy another pair. "It's not fair," he told God as he drove home in frustration. "I've been very faithful in giving of my time and money to your work, and now this."

Months later, the director of the orphanage was on furlough in the United States. He wanted to visit all the churches that supported him in China, so he came to speak one Sunday at my grandfather's small church in Chicago.

The missionary began by thanking the people for their faithfulness in supporting the orphanage. "But most of all," he said, "I must thank you for the glasses you sent last year. You see, the Communists had just swept through the orphanage, destroying everything, including my glasses. I was desperate. Even if I had the money, there was simply no way of replacing those glasses. Along with not being able to see well, I experienced headaches every day, so my coworkers and I were much in prayer about this. Then your crates arrived. When my staff removed the covers, they found a pair of glasses wedged between two blankets.

The missionary paused long enough to let his words sink in. Then, still gripped with the wonder of it all, he continued: "Folks, when I tried on the glasses, it was as though they had been custom made just for me! I want to thank you for being a part of that."

The people listened, happy for the miraculous glasses. But the missionary surely must have confused their church with another, they thought. There were no glasses on their list of items to be sent overseas. But sitting quietly in the back, with tears streaming down his face, an ordinary carpenter realized the Master Carpenter had used him in an extraordinary way.

There are times we want to blame God instead of thanking him! Perhaps it is something we ought to try more often, "Thank you, God, for not allowing my car to start this morning." He may have been saving your life from a car accident. "Lord Jesus, thank you for letting me lose my glasses; I'm sure they'll be put to good use or there is a lesson to be learned."

Always look for the "perfect mistakes."

God shall supply all your needs according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. - Phil 4:19

Mark 10:44-45 And whoever of you desires to be first shall be servant of all. For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.

A non-commissioned officer was directing the repairs of a military building during the American Revolution. He was barking orders to the soldiers under his command, trying to get them to raise a heavy wooden beam. As the men struggled in vain to lift the beam into place, a man who was passing by stopped to ask the one in charge why he wasn't helping the men. With all the pomp of an emperor, the soldier responded, "Sir, I am a corporal!"

"You are, are you?" replied the passerby, "I was not aware of that." Then, taking off his hat and bowing, he said, "I ask your pardon, Corporal." Then the stranger walked over and strained with the soldiers to lift the heavy beam. After the job was finished, he turned and said, "Mr. Corporal, when you have another such job and have not enough men, send for your Commander in Chief, and I will come and help you a second time." The corporal was thunderstruck. The man's name was General George Washington.

The Tablecloth

At Christmas time men and women everywhere gather in their churches to wonder anew at the greatest miracle the world has ever known. But the story I like best to recall was not a miracle, not exactly. It happened to a pastor who was very young but his church was very old.

Once long ago it had flourished. Famous men had preached from its pulpit and prayed before its altar. Rich and poor alike had worshipped there and built it beautifully. Now the good days had passed from the section of town where it stood. But the pastor and his young wife believed in their run-down church. They felt that with paint, hammer, and faith they could get it in shape. Together they went to work.

However late in December a severe storm whipped through the river valley and the worst blow fell on the little church, a huge chunk of rain-soaked plaster fell out of the inside wall just behind the altar.

Sorrowfully the pastor and his wife swept away the mess but they couldn't hide the ragged hole. The pastor looked at it and had to remind himself quickly, Thy will be done! But his wife wept, Christmas is only two days away!

That afternoon the dispirited couple attended an auction held for the benefit of a youth group. The auctioneer opened a box and shook out of its folds a handsome gold and ivory lace tablecloth. It was a magnificent item, nearly 15 feet long; but it, too, dated from a long vanished era. Who, today, had any use for such a thing?

There were a few halfhearted bids. Then the pastor was seized with what he thought was a great idea. He bid it in for $6.50. He carried the cloth back to the church and tacked it up on the wall behind the altar. It completely hid the hole! And the extraordinary beauty of its shimmering handwork cast a fine, holiday glow over the chancel. It was a great triumph. Happily he went back to preparing his Christmas sermon.

Just before noon on the day of Christmas Eve as the pastor was opening the church, he noticed a woman standing in the cold at the bus stop. The bus won't be here for 40 minutes!, he called and invited her into the church to get warm. She told him that she had come from the city that morning to be interviewed for a job as governess to the children of one of the wealthy families in town but she had been turned down. A war refugee, her English was imperfect.

The woman sat down in a pew and clasped her hands and rested.

After a while she dropped her head and prayed. She looked up as the pastor began to adjust the great gold and ivory cloth across the hole. She rose suddenly and walked up the steps of the chancel. She looked at the tablecloth. The pastor smiled and started to tell her about the storm damage but she didn't seem to listen. She took up a fold of the cloth and rubbed it between her fingers. It is mine! she said. It is my banquet cloth! She lifted up a corner and showed the surprised pastor that there were initials monogrammed on it. My husband had the cloth made especially for me in Brussels! There could not be another like it.

For the next few minutes the woman and the pastor talked excitedly together. She explained that she was Viennese and that she and her husband had opposed the Nazis and decided to leave the country. They were advised to go separately. Her husband put her on a train for Switzerland. They planned that he would join her as soon as he could arrange to ship their household goods across the border. She never saw him again. Later she heard that he had died in a concentration camp. I have always felt that it was my fault , to leave without him, she said. Perhaps these years of wandering have been my punishment!? The pastor tried to comfort her and urged her to take the cloth with her. She refused. Then she went away.

As the church began to fill on Christmas Eve, it was clear that the cloth was going to be a great success. It had been skillfully designed to look its best by candlelight. After the service, the pastor stood at the doorway. Many people told him that the church looked beautiful. One gentle-faced middle-aged man,  he was the local clock-and-watch repairman, looked rather puzzled. It is strange, he said in his soft accent. Many years ago my wife, and I owned such a cloth. In our home in Vienna, my wife put it on the table, and here he smiled, only when the bishop came to dinner.

The pastor suddenly became very excited. He told the jeweler about the woman who had been in church earlier that day. The startled jeweler clutched the pastor's arm. Can it be? Does she live?

Together the two got in touch with the family who had interviewed her. Then in the pastor's car they started for the city. And as Christmas Day was born, this man and his wife who had been separated through so many saddened Yule tides were reunited.

To all who hear this story, the joyful purpose of the storm that had knocked a hole in the wall of the church was now quite clear. Of course, people said it was a miracle; but I think you will agree it was the season for it!

There is an old Indian fable which tells of a mouse who was in constant distress because of its fear of cats.

So a magician took pity on it and turned it into a cat so it would have no more fear.

Now, as a cat, it was in fear of dogs.

So the magician turned it into a dog.

Now, as a dog, it was stressed out in fear of tigers.

Then the magician turned the dog into a tiger.

Now, as a tiger, it was shaking in fear of hunters.

The magician finally said to the tiger, Be a mouse again. You only have the heart of a mouse, and I cannot help you.

Thanks for sharing these stories Brother FineLinen.

2 Timothy 1:7 For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

As you mention in the story about the mouse, us humans will always have something to stress  about, no matter what position we're in. The poorest person can worry about how they'll get enough food to eat. The richest person can worry about how they'll protect all of their wealth.

But, it's up to us, our spirit, to not worry, to not give into fear, but rather of power and love. After all, God is for us, who can be against us?