In a mountain land, on the outskirts of the hamlet Creme, seven days a week the duties of the milk maid, Collette did keep. Collette Ann Gemm, a pretty lass with an un-pretty limp, tended not one but two cows of moo, while their cud they did chew. But alas poor lass as her hands grew strong, sore leg did not.
And it came to pass on a sun lit day that Collette Ann Gemm sat on front porch, churning sweet milk, while chatting with a little neighbor boy. And when that neighbor boy saw coming down dirt street the preacher's prodigal son, William Ray; he spat out, "Oh no! Here comes the Bully Ray!"
Too late he turned to run. In thumb and fore finger the Bully Ray had his ear. "Time to lick my boot, neighbor boy!" And the boy wept while being by ear pulled down to dusty boot. "That's it!" Bully Ray leered, "More, more tears to wash my boot!"
"Leave him be!" From her stool Collette laid law, "In the name of Jesus, leave him be!!!"
And ear let loose neighbor boy ran, as the Bully Ray stepped up upon that porch, brought his nose o' so close to the nose of the milk maid, Collette Ann Gemm. And Bully Ray growled, "Well, little gimp legged gal, just how are you going to stop me now?"
Not a beat of the churn did the milk maid skip. One hand pumped churn, one hand shot out, vise gripped the nose of the Bully Ray. O' how the pain made him pay. And from the throat of the graceful neck of Collette poured forth these words, "Upon thy mouth thy hand lay!!!"
Too paralyzed to comply, blood dripped down from the nose of Bully Ray.
Still clamped on to that nose astray, Collette repeated, "Upon thy mouth thy hand lay." And this time he did obey. Then, Collette the Good Book did say, "As surely as the churning of milk brings forth butter; so does the wringing of the nose bring forth blood. Why force wrath to bring forth pain? You need Jesus." And she let go. And down backed the Bully Ray; and on porch steps left tears mixed blood...
So the town folk wondered at the disappearance of the Bully Ray. For far, far gone was that old Bully Ray; and home come home was the preacher's prodigal son, William Ray. Oh what a day... when apology he did pay to a certain little neighbor boy...
Twas on a sun lit Sunday morn three weeks later, William Ray scooted onto a pew next to a certain milk maid. A maid whose grimace but in a little while, faded to smile. A fair maid named Collette Ann Gemm, whose strong yet graceful hand... glided long that wood seat pew... found the hand of that new found man... William Ray...
...On a ring the collet is the ferrule into which the gem is clasped...
...Collette Ann Gemm both collet and gem... ...A Keeper of the Faith...
Proverbs 30:32-33
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
CLOUDS AND WIND WITHOUT RAIN
Once upon a time in the Land of Allegory plowed the lives of Les and Mora Lister. Well, at least Mora plowed. Mora taught children at church, visited the elderly and never counted any in need other than a friend in deed. For Mora Lister was in all deed a planter of God's seed, Jesus. But other than owning Les Lister's Farm Equipment, the only thing Les plowed was a deep furrow in the den easy chair with TV remote in hand. And from that denly throne with electronic scepter in hand, Les Lister thundered an endless stream of 'do-nothing-I'm-gonnas,' promises like clouds and wind without rain. Oh sure, he even went to church; but, "Good for business," was Les Lister's aim of gain.
And it came to be, one certain Sunday, that a peculiar young lad skipped to a seat down the main aisle of sanctuary. Yet short of his intended roost, that lad stopped in mid skip at the seats of Les and Mora. There, that odd lad turned head and said, "If less was more, you'd be truly great, Mr. Les Lister."
As the lad joined family three rows up, in full scowl Mr. Lister envisioned violent chastisement of the posterior kind. While wife Mora thought, "Moral crowbars may seem cruel, but be necessary."
Through time of announcements, hymn and prayer the ruffled feathers of Les Lister had just about smoothed out, when the preacher stepped up. Then the Good Book he opened up, "Proverbs 25:14 KJ, Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift is like clouds and wind without rain." And Les Lister felt burn these words of the preacher, "Why trade empty promise for gain? Why gain the whole world and lose your soul? Be not the sounding brass of vanity without love. Heed the Epistle of Jude 12 &13 NIV, "These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm, shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees without fruit, and uprooted, twice dead. 13)They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."
On that certain Sunday evening after church, at home in the den Les Lister plowed in a very un-easy chair, contemplating, "Am I just too lazy to love others, or worse?" Les reached for the remote on the side table, but in its place lay planted wife Mora's moral crowbar: an open dictionary with bright highlight. Mr. Lister picked it up, then read the very definition of his purpose: lister - a double moldboard plow often equipped with attachments to stir the subsoil of rain limited land and plant seeds in a furrow. Upon that very page of his purpose, rain fell from the eyes of Mr. Lister... a new born cloud with rain... for in that moment Mr. Lister became the same as his name... became that plow stirring the soil and planting the seed of Jesus...
Like the allegorical Mr. Les Lister may we all see by the love of God above to escape the pit of 'do-nothing-I'm-gonnas;' even avoid empty promises for gain. Nor may we be the rainless clouds of tomorrow, drifting in the winds of lost opportunity. For is there not a time to sow and a time to reap? (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2; Isaiah 28:24-26)
For behold the days will come, when faithful plowman and Almighty Harvester shall be one in the Edenic abundance of hills, overflowing with the fruit of the vine of Jesus (John 15:1-17). Therefore, plow in hope and be partakers in hope... For he that watereth shall be watered also... Rain the love of Jesus... As Jesus rains love upon us...
...Plow in all hope...
Please share "Clouds and Wind Without Rain," that all see to do & to be clouds of Jesus' abundant rain.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
And it came to be, one certain Sunday, that a peculiar young lad skipped to a seat down the main aisle of sanctuary. Yet short of his intended roost, that lad stopped in mid skip at the seats of Les and Mora. There, that odd lad turned head and said, "If less was more, you'd be truly great, Mr. Les Lister."
As the lad joined family three rows up, in full scowl Mr. Lister envisioned violent chastisement of the posterior kind. While wife Mora thought, "Moral crowbars may seem cruel, but be necessary."
Through time of announcements, hymn and prayer the ruffled feathers of Les Lister had just about smoothed out, when the preacher stepped up. Then the Good Book he opened up, "Proverbs 25:14 KJ, Whoso boasteth himself of a false gift is like clouds and wind without rain." And Les Lister felt burn these words of the preacher, "Why trade empty promise for gain? Why gain the whole world and lose your soul? Be not the sounding brass of vanity without love. Heed the Epistle of Jude 12 &13 NIV, "These men are blemishes at your love feasts, eating with you without the slightest qualm, shepherds who feed only themselves. They are clouds without rain, blown along by the wind; autumn trees without fruit, and uprooted, twice dead. 13)They are wild waves of the sea, foaming up their shame; wandering stars, for whom blackest darkness has been reserved forever."
On that certain Sunday evening after church, at home in the den Les Lister plowed in a very un-easy chair, contemplating, "Am I just too lazy to love others, or worse?" Les reached for the remote on the side table, but in its place lay planted wife Mora's moral crowbar: an open dictionary with bright highlight. Mr. Lister picked it up, then read the very definition of his purpose: lister - a double moldboard plow often equipped with attachments to stir the subsoil of rain limited land and plant seeds in a furrow. Upon that very page of his purpose, rain fell from the eyes of Mr. Lister... a new born cloud with rain... for in that moment Mr. Lister became the same as his name... became that plow stirring the soil and planting the seed of Jesus...
Like the allegorical Mr. Les Lister may we all see by the love of God above to escape the pit of 'do-nothing-I'm-gonnas;' even avoid empty promises for gain. Nor may we be the rainless clouds of tomorrow, drifting in the winds of lost opportunity. For is there not a time to sow and a time to reap? (Ecclesiastes 3:1-2; Isaiah 28:24-26)
For behold the days will come, when faithful plowman and Almighty Harvester shall be one in the Edenic abundance of hills, overflowing with the fruit of the vine of Jesus (John 15:1-17). Therefore, plow in hope and be partakers in hope... For he that watereth shall be watered also... Rain the love of Jesus... As Jesus rains love upon us...
...Plow in all hope...
Please share "Clouds and Wind Without Rain," that all see to do & to be clouds of Jesus' abundant rain.
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Wednesday, June 26, 2013
DRINK OF LIVING WATER
One day in July 2008... A story true...
Swimming in fresh sheets in the morning of a fresh new day, sleep never felt so good. With sweet singing of birds in ear, my eyes awoke to swaying banana leaves outside the window. And the light, so bright, much brighter than normal for an early morning work day... "Work day! WORK DAY!! 7:40AM! I've got to be there by eight! It's a 30 plus minute drive!" Fresh panic!
How many times can a grown man put his leg in the wrong leg of a pair of pants? And have you ever noticed how impossible it is to put on a sock when having one of those days? Well I finally took one last stab at getting that sock straight. The heel of the sock wound up on the side of the ankle. Shoe got stuffed on anyway. Grabbed a shirt and vainly trying to button up was running out the front door... when it hit me: I had not yet read a scripture nor prayed to start the day.
Back in the bedroom , I started to open the Bible, hesitated, remembered to first ask in Jesus name for understanding, then opened The Word. Psalm 42: 1-2 KJ, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. 2)My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?" His awesomeness swept over me. I thanked Him in the name of Jesus.
But the specter of work loomed. Late for work! Late for work! I now had less than 10 minutes to make a 30 plus minute trip. And as I again sped through that front door, still trying to button up that ornery shirt, and contemplating buying nothing but pull over shirts from now on... I was smiling... Something not usual for a grumpy old man... Who was now even later for work...
So I ran to the car, actually it was more of a brisk walk (old man knees), and plunked my rear in the car seat... still smiling... actually happy... even though late for work...
Driving along sunny Hwy 35, after praying those usual prayers one prays daily, Psalm 42:1-2 again flooded my mind, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: When shall I come and appear before God?" Immediately I began to dwell on another scripture, one in which Jesus reveals who he is to a certain Samaritan woman at Jacobs well: John 4:13-14 KJ, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: 14)But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
And there I was in the car just past Markham on the road to Bay City when... a feeling of awesome joy swept over me and into me, filled the car all around me and yet sat in the seat beside me. And the Lord began to give me a little song... My first thought, "Thank you Heavenly Father!" My second thought, "I'll never remember the words." Frantically I fumbled for pen and paper and squeaked, "Wait Lord, please wait!" Then thought quite correctly, "You dummy, you don't tell God to wait! Please forgive me, Lord, and keep it coming." And faster and faster the words came. Eyes glued to the road I wrote as fast as I could. Scribbled word and line one on top of another all around the page... And then it happened... I began to chuckle... God was tickling his child... That'll teach me... Mr. Late For Work... Mr. Hurry Hurry Hurry, alias Late For Work... Like a Father tickles his child He had me laughing...
Too soon the car entered work's parking lot, a parking lot curiously, very curiously dark. I was more than puzzled, even disoriented. I had left broad day light at home and traveled twenty two miles... there should have been more light, not less.
And the employees parking lot should have been full, not empty save one other solitary car. "Where is everybody?" I thought, "I'm late. Is everyone else late too?" I opened the back door of the building; entered cold utter darkness; flipped on the hall way light; entered restroom, and washed my face. But washing my face did not wash away the confusion, a whimsical confusion, but still confusion. And why was I smiling? Back in the hallway I opened the next door to the main room; more darkness except for one little desk light in the back. Delores was entering a backlog of had to be done yesterday data on her computer.
I quietly sat down at my desk. Paused for a bit trying to make sense of what was happening. It took a while, a long while for the computer to warm up. Its light popped on. Lower right hand corner of screen said: 8:01 am... What
The Song: DRINK OF LIVING WATER
Drink of living water
Fresh from the Lord above
Blessed by the breath of the dove
And filled with Jesus love
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Use me as you will
Lost hearts to tend and heal
You are my Father still
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Psalm 42:1&2
Isaiah 38:7&8
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Swimming in fresh sheets in the morning of a fresh new day, sleep never felt so good. With sweet singing of birds in ear, my eyes awoke to swaying banana leaves outside the window. And the light, so bright, much brighter than normal for an early morning work day... "Work day! WORK DAY!! 7:40AM! I've got to be there by eight! It's a 30 plus minute drive!" Fresh panic!
How many times can a grown man put his leg in the wrong leg of a pair of pants? And have you ever noticed how impossible it is to put on a sock when having one of those days? Well I finally took one last stab at getting that sock straight. The heel of the sock wound up on the side of the ankle. Shoe got stuffed on anyway. Grabbed a shirt and vainly trying to button up was running out the front door... when it hit me: I had not yet read a scripture nor prayed to start the day.
Back in the bedroom , I started to open the Bible, hesitated, remembered to first ask in Jesus name for understanding, then opened The Word. Psalm 42: 1-2 KJ, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. 2)My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?" His awesomeness swept over me. I thanked Him in the name of Jesus.
But the specter of work loomed. Late for work! Late for work! I now had less than 10 minutes to make a 30 plus minute trip. And as I again sped through that front door, still trying to button up that ornery shirt, and contemplating buying nothing but pull over shirts from now on... I was smiling... Something not usual for a grumpy old man... Who was now even later for work...
So I ran to the car, actually it was more of a brisk walk (old man knees), and plunked my rear in the car seat... still smiling... actually happy... even though late for work...
Driving along sunny Hwy 35, after praying those usual prayers one prays daily, Psalm 42:1-2 again flooded my mind, "As the deer panteth after the water brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for God, for the living God: When shall I come and appear before God?" Immediately I began to dwell on another scripture, one in which Jesus reveals who he is to a certain Samaritan woman at Jacobs well: John 4:13-14 KJ, "Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again: 14)But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst; but the water that I shall give him shall be in him a well of water springing up into everlasting life."
And there I was in the car just past Markham on the road to Bay City when... a feeling of awesome joy swept over me and into me, filled the car all around me and yet sat in the seat beside me. And the Lord began to give me a little song... My first thought, "Thank you Heavenly Father!" My second thought, "I'll never remember the words." Frantically I fumbled for pen and paper and squeaked, "Wait Lord, please wait!" Then thought quite correctly, "You dummy, you don't tell God to wait! Please forgive me, Lord, and keep it coming." And faster and faster the words came. Eyes glued to the road I wrote as fast as I could. Scribbled word and line one on top of another all around the page... And then it happened... I began to chuckle... God was tickling his child... That'll teach me... Mr. Late For Work... Mr. Hurry Hurry Hurry, alias Late For Work... Like a Father tickles his child He had me laughing...
Too soon the car entered work's parking lot, a parking lot curiously, very curiously dark. I was more than puzzled, even disoriented. I had left broad day light at home and traveled twenty two miles... there should have been more light, not less.
And the employees parking lot should have been full, not empty save one other solitary car. "Where is everybody?" I thought, "I'm late. Is everyone else late too?" I opened the back door of the building; entered cold utter darkness; flipped on the hall way light; entered restroom, and washed my face. But washing my face did not wash away the confusion, a whimsical confusion, but still confusion. And why was I smiling? Back in the hallway I opened the next door to the main room; more darkness except for one little desk light in the back. Delores was entering a backlog of had to be done yesterday data on her computer.
I quietly sat down at my desk. Paused for a bit trying to make sense of what was happening. It took a while, a long while for the computer to warm up. Its light popped on. Lower right hand corner of screen said: 8:01 am... What
The Song: DRINK OF LIVING WATER
Drink of living water
Fresh from the Lord above
Blessed by the breath of the dove
And filled with Jesus love
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Use me as you will
Lost hearts to tend and heal
You are my Father still
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Drink of living water
Panteth like the deer
For streamlets cool and clear
The dancing waters hear
Psalm 42:1&2
Isaiah 38:7&8
pawpawcorner.blogspot.com
Sunday, June 23, 2013
SHOWDOWN AT THE BLESSING STORE
Weathered board creaked under boot of old rancher as he stepped out on porch. Crisp autumn morn greeted the steam of breath. Red sunrise streamed through clouds of eastern sky. The last of what once was many green and red throated humming birds flitted among the flowers. The old rancher said a prayer of gratitude to the Lord. Yet, as the rooster crowed, off the porch the old rancher stepped, his boot struck ground, his face hardened to flint, for it was time; time to head for town and the big showdown.
So easily churned, so easily stirred still waters. Old scars run deep, new wounds their promise to keep. His mind for a time fought the flow; but the tempest swelled, the waves of sorrow did grow. Like a miserable and pregnant momma cat, he pfffttted and weeooowed and clawed inner walls of his skull. Every sad thing was dredged from the pit of his mind, filled the frown of his brow. Neath the falling leaves of a hackberry tree, he yanked open the door of that old pickup truck, climbed aboard that one way ticket to town and the big showdown.
Hacked off and ranting on down that road of self goad, the mange of his brain bled and bred the cult of self pity. The fire flared, fed of the fuel from the well of hell. What demons hackled; how they howled; what sea of glee did Satan see in his waves of sorrow; as that old cowboy headed for the end of town and the big showdown.
Twas in front of the Blessing Store that truck tires stirred the sour dust of the lot. While neath the brim of his hat that old cowboy still frowned, still drowned, sinking down deeper to dark thoughts keeper. And that devilish keeper leered, musing how well man has no problem, needs little to no prodding to send his mind to pity filled hell. And that old cowboy exited the truck and stared head long at the headline news from the rag in the box neath the wings of the Blessing Store. Two quarters he put into the slot of bad news, pulled open the portal to gloom, the door to doom; took from it the newspaper, closed that bleak door, and neath his armpit that well of hell did store. And the devil hopped in gleeful delight, that tomorrow's rag would tell the tale of what had happened at the end of town and the big showdown.
Through swinging double door, dusty cowboy boots walked that there floor, and in them the feet of him from whom acid did stem. To the meat counter he went, bacon and bloody hamburger his bent. Then away to to the line of waiting his boots he sent; and there in that line stood a man of Mexican descent. To him that Mexican man said, "Good morning, preacher. How are you today?"
And the lady behind the cash register with mile wide smile chimed in, "Good morning, preacher man!"
Then what had been, he chalked up to sin; looked up to heaven, let forgiveness in. And not from keeping up appearances, nor from inner embarrassment did the old cowboy plow; but from the root neath his brow, and from his heart escaped the blessed now, that this day held a journey of joy... Because in an instant, that old cowboy, that preacher boy, realized that he loved those precious Christian folk more than himself. And so did Satan lose, that day at the Blessing Store... in Blessing town... at the big showdown...
And the very next day that preacher boy, that old cowboy, did go back and thank them for what they had done... on that day of blessings... at the Blessing Store... in Blessing town... for with Jesus even the weak and broken heart... found triumph at the big showdown...
Deuteronomy 28:8 KJ, "The Lord shall command the blessing upon thee in thy storehouses, and all that thou settest thy hand unto; and he shall bless thee in the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee."
If "Showdown at the Blessing Store" will be a blessing in the storehouse of any waiting at the check-out line of life; please add to their grocery cart. And remind them with a gentle smile: We all got to pay-up sometime.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
THE LEAST OF THESE
The Lord is persistent. For many days the Lord echoed the words ...the least of these... through my little pea brain. I began to make notes from the Bible and found more than a few passages concerning 'the least of these'. But Matthew 25 verse 40 captured my heart. I thought what a wonderful message for us all. However, time was limited for my beloved wife lay in an ICU bed at Memorial Herman Hospital.
Praise the Lord God! Prayers answered! Wife got better. Well enough to hold hands while treading the beautiful historic section of the hospital built in 1925. And there in the architecture of old we beheld 'the main supporting pillar'. And embedded in that marble pillar a bronze plaque, where it is written founder George H. Herman's driving inspiration... and my minds echo... Matthew chapter 25 verse 40: "And the King shall answer and say to them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of 'the least of these' my bretheren, ye have done it unto me."
On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. God is love. So does God command us to be love... by loving even the least of these. Jesus tells us to #1 love God and #2 love our neighbor; and that these two commandments fulfill the ten commandments of the law of the prophets. On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. Love God and love thy neighbor: the central pillar. The bronze plaque upon that pillar: love even the least of your neighbors and so do you love also the Son of Father God, the King Christ Jesus. (Matthew 22:37-40 & 5:17)
The least of these... Jesus speaks in Matthew 25:34-40, "Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: 35)For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 36)Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 37)Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38)When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39)Or saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? 40)And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me." The least of these... (also in Isaiah 58:6-11)
The least of these... By the grace of God that is Christ Jesus, those who serve in love with no thought for self, inherit the kingdom of heaven. Jesus has prepared a mansion there for each and every one, who shares his love even unto... the least of these... (Mark 9:41; John 14:1-3)
The least of these... the least of these: So do we honor our Father God with acts of mercy. Acts of mercy should be every day. Acts of mercy should become our very nature; love our very being; serving where ever service is needed. Make habit the serving of the least of these... For we reflect God's love and glorify Him by loving the least of these... When we hug even the least of these... So do we hug Jesus... What joy to hug our King... Can you imagine his joy in hugging you...
Why are the least of these: the child, the poor, the wretched, the criminal, the sinner, you, me, the least of all society; why are even the least of these who are last; why do the least of these become first in the kingdom (Mt. 19:30). Why? Because the least of these, who is forgiven much, loves much (Luke 7:47). Because for the least of these, God's grace is sufficient and His strength made perfect in weakness (2nd Cor. 12:9). Because Jesus came not to call the righteous, but sinners, you and me, the least of these to repentance (Mt. 9:13). When even the least of these truly determine to love Jesus... the power of God fills them... God's purpose to fulfill... So are the least of these the love of God...
The most urgent problem many face is not knowing how much they are loved... Tell them... Hug them... Today... Be the arms of Jesus...
Sharon &Forrest love you. Please share...
Praise the Lord God! Prayers answered! Wife got better. Well enough to hold hands while treading the beautiful historic section of the hospital built in 1925. And there in the architecture of old we beheld 'the main supporting pillar'. And embedded in that marble pillar a bronze plaque, where it is written founder George H. Herman's driving inspiration... and my minds echo... Matthew chapter 25 verse 40: "And the King shall answer and say to them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as you have done it unto one of 'the least of these' my bretheren, ye have done it unto me."
On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. God is love. So does God command us to be love... by loving even the least of these. Jesus tells us to #1 love God and #2 love our neighbor; and that these two commandments fulfill the ten commandments of the law of the prophets. On the main supporting pillar rests the whole building. Love God and love thy neighbor: the central pillar. The bronze plaque upon that pillar: love even the least of your neighbors and so do you love also the Son of Father God, the King Christ Jesus. (Matthew 22:37-40 & 5:17)
The least of these... Jesus speaks in Matthew 25:34-40, "Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: 35)For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: 36)Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. 37)Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? 38)When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? 39)Or saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee? 40)And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my bretheren, ye have done it unto me." The least of these... (also in Isaiah 58:6-11)
The least of these... By the grace of God that is Christ Jesus, those who serve in love with no thought for self, inherit the kingdom of heaven. Jesus has prepared a mansion there for each and every one, who shares his love even unto... the least of these... (Mark 9:41; John 14:1-3)
The least of these... the least of these: So do we honor our Father God with acts of mercy. Acts of mercy should be every day. Acts of mercy should become our very nature; love our very being; serving where ever service is needed. Make habit the serving of the least of these... For we reflect God's love and glorify Him by loving the least of these... When we hug even the least of these... So do we hug Jesus... What joy to hug our King... Can you imagine his joy in hugging you...
Why are the least of these: the child, the poor, the wretched, the criminal, the sinner, you, me, the least of all society; why are even the least of these who are last; why do the least of these become first in the kingdom (Mt. 19:30). Why? Because the least of these, who is forgiven much, loves much (Luke 7:47). Because for the least of these, God's grace is sufficient and His strength made perfect in weakness (2nd Cor. 12:9). Because Jesus came not to call the righteous, but sinners, you and me, the least of these to repentance (Mt. 9:13). When even the least of these truly determine to love Jesus... the power of God fills them... God's purpose to fulfill... So are the least of these the love of God...
The most urgent problem many face is not knowing how much they are loved... Tell them... Hug them... Today... Be the arms of Jesus...
Sharon &Forrest love you. Please share...
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
THE BALLAD OF KATHY & BUBBA & ME
The voices of yesterday... The echoes of childhood...
Now Kathy and Bubba were sister and brother. Playmates they were of a certain none too bright young lad, we'll call 'Me'. Now Me's mom made a mother hen feel inadequate when it came to taking care of her one and only Me. Me, who loved to be free, climb a too tall tree, swat an angry bee. And Kathy and Bubba, oh Me, how they knew the real Me! How they relished to see Me indulge in danger forbidden by Me's Mom.
On that faithful backyard day, when the ball went too far into the reeds and inky bayou water, Me stood starring down at that ball in that dangerous place forbidden. And borne upon the breeze the sultry southern drawl of fair haired Kathy breathed, "Go get it for me, Me."
And her goofy brother Bubba burbled, "Git it."
'Its right there, Me," Kathy urged.
"Right there." Bubba parroted.
"Your mom won't care," Kathy pleaded.
"Won't care!" Bubba nodded.
"She really didn't mean it, when she said don't go in there," Kathy's full lips smiled as she knew Me weakened.
"Didn't mean it," Bubba shook his head of dirty plastered down hair.
"She's in the house, Me. She can't see you, Me. She won't know... Me..." came Kathy's whisper floating on air.
Only a giggle, only a snicker or two escaped the buck toothed grin of Bubba, as he stood, as if perched on leafless limb, wringing coarse hands and squinting through dark eyes at Me.
Down to the edge of the bayou went Me. Over the shoulder Me made sure there was no Mom of Me. From the reeds and inky waters the ball Me did free.
"O' happiness, O' joy, I've got the ball," rejoiced Me, as he climbed the rise of that bayou ditch. And as Me's head met the grassy horizon of backyard, Me saw first the feet of an angry Me's Mom. And so stood Me. Only a dirty filthy ball filled Me's hands. And Me began to understand... Even more than Me's Mom saw... God sees it all...
The whipping was brief... the tears and hugs many... Me was sorry... Me was forgiven...
And after God's own heart... Me even forgave Kathy & Bubba... Even the Me in you...
...For after all there's a little Me in all of us...
(Jeremiah 23:23-24; Matthew 6:9-15)
If "The Ballad of Kathy & Bubba & Me" will touch the lives of any you know, please share.
Now Kathy and Bubba were sister and brother. Playmates they were of a certain none too bright young lad, we'll call 'Me'. Now Me's mom made a mother hen feel inadequate when it came to taking care of her one and only Me. Me, who loved to be free, climb a too tall tree, swat an angry bee. And Kathy and Bubba, oh Me, how they knew the real Me! How they relished to see Me indulge in danger forbidden by Me's Mom.
On that faithful backyard day, when the ball went too far into the reeds and inky bayou water, Me stood starring down at that ball in that dangerous place forbidden. And borne upon the breeze the sultry southern drawl of fair haired Kathy breathed, "Go get it for me, Me."
And her goofy brother Bubba burbled, "Git it."
'Its right there, Me," Kathy urged.
"Right there." Bubba parroted.
"Your mom won't care," Kathy pleaded.
"Won't care!" Bubba nodded.
"She really didn't mean it, when she said don't go in there," Kathy's full lips smiled as she knew Me weakened.
"Didn't mean it," Bubba shook his head of dirty plastered down hair.
"She's in the house, Me. She can't see you, Me. She won't know... Me..." came Kathy's whisper floating on air.
Only a giggle, only a snicker or two escaped the buck toothed grin of Bubba, as he stood, as if perched on leafless limb, wringing coarse hands and squinting through dark eyes at Me.
Down to the edge of the bayou went Me. Over the shoulder Me made sure there was no Mom of Me. From the reeds and inky waters the ball Me did free.
"O' happiness, O' joy, I've got the ball," rejoiced Me, as he climbed the rise of that bayou ditch. And as Me's head met the grassy horizon of backyard, Me saw first the feet of an angry Me's Mom. And so stood Me. Only a dirty filthy ball filled Me's hands. And Me began to understand... Even more than Me's Mom saw... God sees it all...
The whipping was brief... the tears and hugs many... Me was sorry... Me was forgiven...
And after God's own heart... Me even forgave Kathy & Bubba... Even the Me in you...
...For after all there's a little Me in all of us...
(Jeremiah 23:23-24; Matthew 6:9-15)
If "The Ballad of Kathy & Bubba & Me" will touch the lives of any you know, please share.
Tuesday, May 14, 2013
BACK PORCH NOSTALGIA
With bowlful of reheated leftovers in hand, Skip escaped into the night air of the back porch and called, "Nostalgia! Here Girl! Here Nostalgia!" No rustle of familiar paws came running. Nostalgia was being stubborn. Skip settled back to wait in that old back porch rocking chair. He sat the cooling leftovers down on weathered porch planks. In a cloud of wist Skip wondered, "Where can Nostalgia be?" Then with tear in eye, he remembered, whispered, "Nostalgia is gone. Been gone a long time. Too long to call her back. And even if it wasn't, she'd just run away again."
Truth be, a lot of things had run away from Skip. His job, reputation, possibly his sanity, and for sure the one he loved, all slipped away. Gone for a lot of reasons. But most of all because Skip held on too tight. Squeezed the life right out of all close. Till none but that old empty house was left... with its back porch... and rocking chair... in the night air... and now even nostalgia was ebbing away... Why? Why did Skip hold on so tight to the point of squeezing the life out of all about him? Without the Lord as the center of life, Skip not only looked for love in all the wrong places; he was separated from love.
Anything or anyone placed above the Lord, is eventually lost. For so is mercy: to lose the idol and gain life. When the lost lose an obstacle in the path of salvation, the path that is Christ Jesus, opens. God chastens those He loves that they become His children; and if already His children, stay His children. (Hebrews 12:6)
But, into what do we walk, when we step out on that back porch of the mind? Seems like once upon a time, I ought to remember something about nostalgia. Nostalgia? Is it some kinda' itchy skin disease or some sorta' fruity ambrosia? Is nostalgia the effervescent antacid to calm the the up-setting present? Or is nostalgia the insidious seduction of the past, the seed of escape, the mirage of hope, the fog of sweet secret, the touch of that gone by, the caress of that lost? Nostalgia: won't let go; won't come back. What name slips not away... Beware of whispers in the night calling... Nostalgia... the breeze of sweet nothings, the breath of seducing sighs, the whirl wind of fading passions. Turn deaf ear to her beckoning cries, "Come back to me," the mist of lies.
A trick of the mind called nostalgia. Now, not all nostalgia is sad or bad. Some might even be glad. But when nostalgia blinds spiritual reality, when she morphs to the wistful waste of semi-mental sentiment; then she's gotta go. When the seductress named Nostalgia whispers in the night; take a good look at where you are going. Some memories are best prayed about... not relived. Others are warm fuzzies, gentle breezes, gems of better times, even precious moments of love. So, where to draw the line of nostalgia?
The wife of Lot looked back on sin, longed to return to the city of Sodom; so turned her flesh into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:17, 24-26). It all depends on what you look back on. It all depends on what you allow the heart to desire. The heart needs guidance. So did God the Father send The Light, His only begotten Son, to shine the way (John 3:16; 8:12). If we remember anything, dwell upon all our Savior has done for us. For on judgment day a people with Bibles in every home and churches on ever corner have no excuse, if they do not repent and believe. The sins of our nation are worse than that of Sodom and Gomorrah because... we know better (Matthew 11:21-24). Humble self! Repent! Pray! Turn to Jesus!!! And God the Father will turn to you (James 4:5-10; 2nd Chronicles 7:14). Remember salvation; look not back to sin; avoid that pillar of salt.
At one time or another, all varmints get caught in that old trap, that snare called nostalgia. But is all nostalgia bad? Is Nostalgia not what we make of her? Is the longing for a simpler time, when God was still in our prayers at school, wrong? Is remembering the Bible stories of youth not comforting? Is cherishing the childhood hugs of Mom not blessed? So should we dwell on the remembrance of the LORD's gifts. Hold dear especially His grace made possible on the cross by Jesus. Dwell in all hope, because Jesus loves us. Jesus is our greatest gift; blessed proof God loves us. Press forward for Jesus. Be doers; not dreamers only. Share the love of Jesus with all about you. Love God!!! Love one another!!! Bless His Holy Name!!!
Please share "Back Porch Nostalgia," to encourage folks to think about what really matters, his name is JESUS.
Truth be, a lot of things had run away from Skip. His job, reputation, possibly his sanity, and for sure the one he loved, all slipped away. Gone for a lot of reasons. But most of all because Skip held on too tight. Squeezed the life right out of all close. Till none but that old empty house was left... with its back porch... and rocking chair... in the night air... and now even nostalgia was ebbing away... Why? Why did Skip hold on so tight to the point of squeezing the life out of all about him? Without the Lord as the center of life, Skip not only looked for love in all the wrong places; he was separated from love.
Anything or anyone placed above the Lord, is eventually lost. For so is mercy: to lose the idol and gain life. When the lost lose an obstacle in the path of salvation, the path that is Christ Jesus, opens. God chastens those He loves that they become His children; and if already His children, stay His children. (Hebrews 12:6)
But, into what do we walk, when we step out on that back porch of the mind? Seems like once upon a time, I ought to remember something about nostalgia. Nostalgia? Is it some kinda' itchy skin disease or some sorta' fruity ambrosia? Is nostalgia the effervescent antacid to calm the the up-setting present? Or is nostalgia the insidious seduction of the past, the seed of escape, the mirage of hope, the fog of sweet secret, the touch of that gone by, the caress of that lost? Nostalgia: won't let go; won't come back. What name slips not away... Beware of whispers in the night calling... Nostalgia... the breeze of sweet nothings, the breath of seducing sighs, the whirl wind of fading passions. Turn deaf ear to her beckoning cries, "Come back to me," the mist of lies.
A trick of the mind called nostalgia. Now, not all nostalgia is sad or bad. Some might even be glad. But when nostalgia blinds spiritual reality, when she morphs to the wistful waste of semi-mental sentiment; then she's gotta go. When the seductress named Nostalgia whispers in the night; take a good look at where you are going. Some memories are best prayed about... not relived. Others are warm fuzzies, gentle breezes, gems of better times, even precious moments of love. So, where to draw the line of nostalgia?
The wife of Lot looked back on sin, longed to return to the city of Sodom; so turned her flesh into a pillar of salt (Genesis 19:17, 24-26). It all depends on what you look back on. It all depends on what you allow the heart to desire. The heart needs guidance. So did God the Father send The Light, His only begotten Son, to shine the way (John 3:16; 8:12). If we remember anything, dwell upon all our Savior has done for us. For on judgment day a people with Bibles in every home and churches on ever corner have no excuse, if they do not repent and believe. The sins of our nation are worse than that of Sodom and Gomorrah because... we know better (Matthew 11:21-24). Humble self! Repent! Pray! Turn to Jesus!!! And God the Father will turn to you (James 4:5-10; 2nd Chronicles 7:14). Remember salvation; look not back to sin; avoid that pillar of salt.
At one time or another, all varmints get caught in that old trap, that snare called nostalgia. But is all nostalgia bad? Is Nostalgia not what we make of her? Is the longing for a simpler time, when God was still in our prayers at school, wrong? Is remembering the Bible stories of youth not comforting? Is cherishing the childhood hugs of Mom not blessed? So should we dwell on the remembrance of the LORD's gifts. Hold dear especially His grace made possible on the cross by Jesus. Dwell in all hope, because Jesus loves us. Jesus is our greatest gift; blessed proof God loves us. Press forward for Jesus. Be doers; not dreamers only. Share the love of Jesus with all about you. Love God!!! Love one another!!! Bless His Holy Name!!!
Please share "Back Porch Nostalgia," to encourage folks to think about what really matters, his name is JESUS.
Friday, May 3, 2013
THE LIFE OF R. E. GRETT
"Being sorry is just not good enough, little man! You must pay for what you did! Rules are rules! Hold that hand out! Palm down! For dropping a pencil on the floor the punishment is the edge of the ruler, not one, but two whacks to the back of the hand!" My how did old lady Scarakid's eyes burn excitement at the tears of her students.
So was the introduction of first grade education to one Reginald Eugene Grett. So did the life of R. E. Grett, Ruey, as fellow classmates called him, so did his life, if you call it living, become a life tainted, a life sealed, a life over and over again pierced by poisonous arrows of error. Error then arrow, error then arrow, too many arrows for error, till the life of Ruey became one of stagnant regret, one of increasing stiffness; afraid to move; afraid to make a mistake. In the darkness of such a life, Ruey, as many often do, could have turned to retribution, to revenge, to crime and evil; but Ruey was a good kid, who turned blame inward. So was the life of R. E. Grett, poor Ruey, swallowed up in the gaping pit of regret, the perdition of paralysis.
And lo, one faithful birthday R. E. Grett sat in the seat of celebration before a colorfully adorned frosted cake with seven candles ablaze. Festive ribbons and balloons of red and blue hung draped from the ceiling. Presents wrapped in gold and in stripes and in cartoon characters lay near. Shiny party hats sat on kids heads. Noise makers blew and cranked. But Ruey had lost the ability to see color. To him the light was dim gray, the sight dark sterile objects. Not even a noisy party horn in his ear stirred stiffness. And the joyful noise faded away; and one by one the kids smiles faded too. So it was said by anguished adults that a quiet party is no party at all. Till a little girl, younger yet wiser than them all, stepped up to R. E. Grett and placed a kiss on the cheek of Ruey, then whispered in his ear, "Jesus loves you."
And the bright of light flickered in the eyes of Ruey and he said, "I love Jesus too." And he hugged the little girl, younger yet wiser than them all... (Romans 16:16 & 1st Peter 5:14)
Continually walking on thorns decreases the ability to walk; births stiffness; leads to paralysis. Why live such a life of regret? Why let the poisonous arrows of the past paralyze you, when forgiveness and healing are only a breath away? ...His name is Jesus... Call upon His name and be saved... (Romans 10:13)
Friends refresh friends (Acts 27:3). Friends recognize need, both physical and spiritual, and determinedly act upon it. Friends will even tear the roof off a building to get you to Jesus (Mark 2:2-12). Just remember the physically damaged, the emotionally stunted and the dreadfully sinful all need love to heal. ...Let your love lead them to the love of Jesus... And thus like the little girl, who stepped up to R. E. Grett, be younger yet wiser than them all...
Life requires both sunshine and rain, the light and living water to grow... Jesus...
If "The Life of R.E. Grett," will limber up the legs of any suffering the arrows of past errors and get them walking with Jesus, please share. Jesus loves You.
. .
So was the introduction of first grade education to one Reginald Eugene Grett. So did the life of R. E. Grett, Ruey, as fellow classmates called him, so did his life, if you call it living, become a life tainted, a life sealed, a life over and over again pierced by poisonous arrows of error. Error then arrow, error then arrow, too many arrows for error, till the life of Ruey became one of stagnant regret, one of increasing stiffness; afraid to move; afraid to make a mistake. In the darkness of such a life, Ruey, as many often do, could have turned to retribution, to revenge, to crime and evil; but Ruey was a good kid, who turned blame inward. So was the life of R. E. Grett, poor Ruey, swallowed up in the gaping pit of regret, the perdition of paralysis.
And lo, one faithful birthday R. E. Grett sat in the seat of celebration before a colorfully adorned frosted cake with seven candles ablaze. Festive ribbons and balloons of red and blue hung draped from the ceiling. Presents wrapped in gold and in stripes and in cartoon characters lay near. Shiny party hats sat on kids heads. Noise makers blew and cranked. But Ruey had lost the ability to see color. To him the light was dim gray, the sight dark sterile objects. Not even a noisy party horn in his ear stirred stiffness. And the joyful noise faded away; and one by one the kids smiles faded too. So it was said by anguished adults that a quiet party is no party at all. Till a little girl, younger yet wiser than them all, stepped up to R. E. Grett and placed a kiss on the cheek of Ruey, then whispered in his ear, "Jesus loves you."
And the bright of light flickered in the eyes of Ruey and he said, "I love Jesus too." And he hugged the little girl, younger yet wiser than them all... (Romans 16:16 & 1st Peter 5:14)
Continually walking on thorns decreases the ability to walk; births stiffness; leads to paralysis. Why live such a life of regret? Why let the poisonous arrows of the past paralyze you, when forgiveness and healing are only a breath away? ...His name is Jesus... Call upon His name and be saved... (Romans 10:13)
Friends refresh friends (Acts 27:3). Friends recognize need, both physical and spiritual, and determinedly act upon it. Friends will even tear the roof off a building to get you to Jesus (Mark 2:2-12). Just remember the physically damaged, the emotionally stunted and the dreadfully sinful all need love to heal. ...Let your love lead them to the love of Jesus... And thus like the little girl, who stepped up to R. E. Grett, be younger yet wiser than them all...
Life requires both sunshine and rain, the light and living water to grow... Jesus...
If "The Life of R.E. Grett," will limber up the legs of any suffering the arrows of past errors and get them walking with Jesus, please share. Jesus loves You.
. .
Thursday, April 25, 2013
THIS THING CALLED WHINEY LOVE
It would seem a fool and his folly are seldom parted. A person can do good all the day long, but for one moment of lapse, one stupid word, one little nuance of frivolity; then its Katy bar the door, disgrace city, hibernate till next spring; cause that's all that is remembered by fellow peeps. Far too often, "I will never live this down," becomes the crippling lament of a not perfect person. For as dead flies contaminate even perfume to reek rot, so the stench of a little folly covers up wisdom and honor (Ecclesiastes 10:1).
Now we could talk all day about personal imperfection. After all who among us is without sin? Seems I've heard that somewhere before. Maybe it was Romans 3:23. And anyways, folks are supposed to forgive and extend grace like God does. Was that Romans 6:23 or Matthew 6 verse 12 or maybe verses 14 and 15? I'm sure it says that in the Holy Book somewhere, probably like over and over again, maybe even seventy times seven or more. But today I'd like to concentrate on something that's just so embarrassing, so discomforting, so unabashedly disgusting, that, that its unmentionable! So I won't.
Just kidding! You should be so lucky! And yes, I'm sure you have guessed the unmentionable embarrassment is as the title: "This Thing Called Whiney Love." Now before you Jewish folks start throwing back your shoulders, poking out your chests and strutting your stuff as being the whiniest people on earth, take a seat, cause us gentiles got game too. If being whiney was a sport, no matter the color of skin, no matter the religion, we all got game, we are all guilty.
So, what about this thing called whiney love? First we must consult Dr. Webster. A whine is defined as an annoying high pitched cry of distress or pain or complaint. Now whiney love has three particularly irksome traits: #1, it is whiney, #2, it is so repetitive that it shorts out the brain grid of its victims, and #3, whiney love is the really ugly debasement of self to the point of out weighing wisdom and honor.
Even if two whiney hearts find one another, beat as one; well, then they are just one bigger whiney heart, beating in whiney land. For the whiney heart is an unfulfilled heart. Even a truck load of whiney hearts is still empty. And unfulfilled lost hearts beat in self destructive rhythm to the melodic beat of lemmings over a cliff.
Whiney love is relentless expectation of return. It is saying one is sorry, a lot, due to low self esteem. So we ponder: is whiney love really love or no love at all? The answer may be that whiney love is as the stench of dead flies, masquerading as perfume. The first wiff might not smell too bad, but the longer it stays the stinkier it gets. It is more about taking, than giving; more about self, than others; more about suffocating, than breathing. Having cried wolf once too often: wallowing alone is whiney love's un-poetic end. Defeat by its own misguided purpose is whiney love's reward. Whiney love just plain stinks.
So what is the answer? Can the chronically whiney be healed? Who could even stand to touch them? They're stinky! Matthew 9:12-13 KJ, "But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. But ye go and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance."
Jesus, precious Jesus, no stink of sin can keep him away. Jesus is the sweet perfume of grace and forgiveness. Jesus is the healer and the gatherer of God's children. Therefore, repent! Ask Jesus into your heart. Receive mercy. Be healed. Love God first above all. Let God love you. Get life! Then you are ready to really love others. Perhaps even love that someone God has planned especially for you.
Thank You, Heavenly Father, for forgiving me. Thank You for Jesus who makes it possible. In Jesus name, thank You.
If "This Thing Called Whiney Love," might touch the life of any you know, please share...
Now we could talk all day about personal imperfection. After all who among us is without sin? Seems I've heard that somewhere before. Maybe it was Romans 3:23. And anyways, folks are supposed to forgive and extend grace like God does. Was that Romans 6:23 or Matthew 6 verse 12 or maybe verses 14 and 15? I'm sure it says that in the Holy Book somewhere, probably like over and over again, maybe even seventy times seven or more. But today I'd like to concentrate on something that's just so embarrassing, so discomforting, so unabashedly disgusting, that, that its unmentionable! So I won't.
Just kidding! You should be so lucky! And yes, I'm sure you have guessed the unmentionable embarrassment is as the title: "This Thing Called Whiney Love." Now before you Jewish folks start throwing back your shoulders, poking out your chests and strutting your stuff as being the whiniest people on earth, take a seat, cause us gentiles got game too. If being whiney was a sport, no matter the color of skin, no matter the religion, we all got game, we are all guilty.
So, what about this thing called whiney love? First we must consult Dr. Webster. A whine is defined as an annoying high pitched cry of distress or pain or complaint. Now whiney love has three particularly irksome traits: #1, it is whiney, #2, it is so repetitive that it shorts out the brain grid of its victims, and #3, whiney love is the really ugly debasement of self to the point of out weighing wisdom and honor.
Even if two whiney hearts find one another, beat as one; well, then they are just one bigger whiney heart, beating in whiney land. For the whiney heart is an unfulfilled heart. Even a truck load of whiney hearts is still empty. And unfulfilled lost hearts beat in self destructive rhythm to the melodic beat of lemmings over a cliff.
Whiney love is relentless expectation of return. It is saying one is sorry, a lot, due to low self esteem. So we ponder: is whiney love really love or no love at all? The answer may be that whiney love is as the stench of dead flies, masquerading as perfume. The first wiff might not smell too bad, but the longer it stays the stinkier it gets. It is more about taking, than giving; more about self, than others; more about suffocating, than breathing. Having cried wolf once too often: wallowing alone is whiney love's un-poetic end. Defeat by its own misguided purpose is whiney love's reward. Whiney love just plain stinks.
So what is the answer? Can the chronically whiney be healed? Who could even stand to touch them? They're stinky! Matthew 9:12-13 KJ, "But when Jesus heard that, he said unto them, They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick. But ye go and learn what that meaneth, I will have mercy, and not sacrifice: for I am not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance."
Jesus, precious Jesus, no stink of sin can keep him away. Jesus is the sweet perfume of grace and forgiveness. Jesus is the healer and the gatherer of God's children. Therefore, repent! Ask Jesus into your heart. Receive mercy. Be healed. Love God first above all. Let God love you. Get life! Then you are ready to really love others. Perhaps even love that someone God has planned especially for you.
Thank You, Heavenly Father, for forgiving me. Thank You for Jesus who makes it possible. In Jesus name, thank You.
If "This Thing Called Whiney Love," might touch the life of any you know, please share...
Saturday, April 20, 2013
JUST A PILE OF COCONUTS
Not always a good thing is it to go fishing alone in unfamiliar waters. A too small boat in the Pacific Ocean, what could possibly go wrong? And when that dinghy sinks, is it sometimes more than just luck an island beckons only yards away? So begins this not so typical day in the life of one vacationing Dennis B. Dense.
Swimming to shore, Dennis lost a shoe to one of many swarming sharks. Oh, how good did sand between the toes feel to potential shark bait. One soggy, yet not drowned, and not eaten Dennis Dense staggered up the beach sands, turned around and sat upon a rock. And there upon that rock, gasping for air, as he sat starring out at those hungry fins still churning the salt water, he thanked lady luck. Whack!!! A not so errant coconut did smack the head of Mr. Dennis B. Dense. "Owww!" Reflex action propelled Dennis to his feet and rubbing his head, he thought out loud, "Saved from sharks and drowning, then murdered by a coconut!" In fact on that small island no matter where Dennis stepped, it seemed he tripped over another coconut. And for no reason, apparent to Mr. Dense, he began to toss coconuts into a not so neat pile.
Without food and water that first day twas a bit uncomfortable, the second day unbearable, the third day desperate: the swollen tongue, the burning throat, the body ravaged by dehydration. "At least I'm not sunburned," thought Dennis, as he sat neath the coconut tree, on the rock, next to his pile of pesky coconuts. And as he kicked yet another fallen coconut toward the pile, Mr. Dense slipped off the rock in a dead faint.
But by more than chance a boat load of Nuns happened by. True they were off their intended course and could not for the life of them figure out why. So as Christian missionaries do, they were lead to pray for guidance. And it came to pass, that while deep in that prayer, the nose of the boat gently nudged the sand of a certain beach, where lay a semi-conscious Dennis B. Dense neath the coconut tree, between the rock and his pile of coconuts.
Now... the Nuns knew that days divine purpose of being supposedly off course. More than mere chance had steered their boat. They lifted the limp body of Dennis Dense and leaned him against the rock. One young Nun attempted to bring a canteen to his lips, but the eldest Nun pushed it away. And under the coconut tree, she plucked up a coconut from the pile, cracked it open on the rock, then brought to the lips of Mr. Dense the sweet milk of that coconut.
"Tourists!" said the old Nun, as Dennis drank, "Sitting under the tree of life, at his feet a pile of fruit full of milk, and the Rock right here to crack it open, yet dying of thirst and hunger! Just like so much of humanity, just a pile of coconuts needing to open their eyes and their hearts."
Twas then that the young Nun plucked from her pocket the Bible. Out loud she read. And thus it came to pass, that by more than just chance Dennis was saved from death twice that day... by Jesus: The Rock of Salvation. Indeed, the lost had been found. Drinking coconut milk had saved the temporary earthly body of Dennis; drinking the spiritual milk of the Gospel saved his life eternal. And Dennis was no longer... just one... in just a pile of coconuts... (Numbers 20:8 KJV; 1st Corinthians 10:4 KJV; John 3:16 KJV)
To receive nourishment out of a coconut or the Bible you must open it... Why wait till near death to eat and drink? Be nourished by the words of faith (1st Timothy 4:6). Eat of the tree of life (Revelation 2:7). As newborns cry out for pure spiritual milk that you grow into the fullness of salvation (1st Peter 2:2-3).
By more than just chance does The Living God redeem those he loves... There are no coincidences in life... By divine design Jesus is the Rock of Salvation...
If any coconut heads are rolling about the sand of your neighborhood, you might share "Just a Pile of Coconuts."
Swimming to shore, Dennis lost a shoe to one of many swarming sharks. Oh, how good did sand between the toes feel to potential shark bait. One soggy, yet not drowned, and not eaten Dennis Dense staggered up the beach sands, turned around and sat upon a rock. And there upon that rock, gasping for air, as he sat starring out at those hungry fins still churning the salt water, he thanked lady luck. Whack!!! A not so errant coconut did smack the head of Mr. Dennis B. Dense. "Owww!" Reflex action propelled Dennis to his feet and rubbing his head, he thought out loud, "Saved from sharks and drowning, then murdered by a coconut!" In fact on that small island no matter where Dennis stepped, it seemed he tripped over another coconut. And for no reason, apparent to Mr. Dense, he began to toss coconuts into a not so neat pile.
Without food and water that first day twas a bit uncomfortable, the second day unbearable, the third day desperate: the swollen tongue, the burning throat, the body ravaged by dehydration. "At least I'm not sunburned," thought Dennis, as he sat neath the coconut tree, on the rock, next to his pile of pesky coconuts. And as he kicked yet another fallen coconut toward the pile, Mr. Dense slipped off the rock in a dead faint.
But by more than chance a boat load of Nuns happened by. True they were off their intended course and could not for the life of them figure out why. So as Christian missionaries do, they were lead to pray for guidance. And it came to pass, that while deep in that prayer, the nose of the boat gently nudged the sand of a certain beach, where lay a semi-conscious Dennis B. Dense neath the coconut tree, between the rock and his pile of coconuts.
Now... the Nuns knew that days divine purpose of being supposedly off course. More than mere chance had steered their boat. They lifted the limp body of Dennis Dense and leaned him against the rock. One young Nun attempted to bring a canteen to his lips, but the eldest Nun pushed it away. And under the coconut tree, she plucked up a coconut from the pile, cracked it open on the rock, then brought to the lips of Mr. Dense the sweet milk of that coconut.
"Tourists!" said the old Nun, as Dennis drank, "Sitting under the tree of life, at his feet a pile of fruit full of milk, and the Rock right here to crack it open, yet dying of thirst and hunger! Just like so much of humanity, just a pile of coconuts needing to open their eyes and their hearts."
Twas then that the young Nun plucked from her pocket the Bible. Out loud she read. And thus it came to pass, that by more than just chance Dennis was saved from death twice that day... by Jesus: The Rock of Salvation. Indeed, the lost had been found. Drinking coconut milk had saved the temporary earthly body of Dennis; drinking the spiritual milk of the Gospel saved his life eternal. And Dennis was no longer... just one... in just a pile of coconuts... (Numbers 20:8 KJV; 1st Corinthians 10:4 KJV; John 3:16 KJV)
To receive nourishment out of a coconut or the Bible you must open it... Why wait till near death to eat and drink? Be nourished by the words of faith (1st Timothy 4:6). Eat of the tree of life (Revelation 2:7). As newborns cry out for pure spiritual milk that you grow into the fullness of salvation (1st Peter 2:2-3).
By more than just chance does The Living God redeem those he loves... There are no coincidences in life... By divine design Jesus is the Rock of Salvation...
If any coconut heads are rolling about the sand of your neighborhood, you might share "Just a Pile of Coconuts."
https://pawpawcorner.blogspot.com/2013/04/just-pile-of-coconuts.html
Thursday, April 11, 2013
LITTLE CAUTION
Twas the 12th of September in the wee morning hours at the Hospital St Claire that little Caution Forbear took her first breath of sweet air. The weeks flew by, then a month or two, but never did proud parents Aware and Prudence Forbear tire of each passerby. For all, who peered into the baby carriage of little Caution, were greeted with exuberant smile and excited dance of arms and legs.
Often was said, "She is such a caution!"
To which Aware and Prudence Forbear would exclaim in unison, "Why yes, she is the same as her name! Little Caution, our joy, our love."
Oh, how quickly did new acquaintances see the dancing light in the eyes of the family Forbear. Something friends and neighbors shared each passing day. But one, who came not to the door Forbear, might think that with names like Aware and Prudence and Caution and even a last name like Forbear, that surely such named as this must unavoidably be timid, be nervous, even shaking in a hole. But ala contraire! For those Forbears were not only forgiving and patient, even helpful to all about them; they possessed the courage of a most calm wisdom. So allegory ends...
And treatise begins... Such are those who have met Jesus, the mystery, the secret of life revealed. For Jesus blesses those who believe in Him with the wisdom to love. Love God and love one another, the wisdom of the ages. Love others even as God loves us in forbearance. God patiently endures our debts, even forgives that debt when we accept His Son as our Savior. As God forbears and forgives, so must we also, for such is love.
You too can be a caution, even a forbearer: one aware through Jesus; one wise in heart called prudent; one who with sweetness of the lips increases learning. So, cast not caution to the wind; neither be swayed by ever winds passing. Seek first the kingdom of God... For God has said in Jeremiah 33:3 KJ, "Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not." How great is the wisdom and knowledge of our Creator! What joy to be still and listen!
Listen to Ephesians 4:2 KJ, "With all lowliness and meekness, with long suffering, forbearing one another in love." Listen to Colossians 3:13 KJ, "Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: as Christ forgave you, so also do ye."
The pathway of Jesus leads to life with Him in Heaven. Be aware; exercise prudence; use a little caution; even forbear. Tune in to Jesus, that your words bear blessing. Patiently learn to be like Jesus: meek, yet courageous; humble, yet joyful; righteous, yet forgiving; prudent, yet giving; cautious, yet astonishing; and above all, loving...
If any might need a "Little Caution," with prudence please share. And with sweetness of the lips bless them with the awareness, "Jesus loves You."
Proverbs 16:21 KJ, "The wise in heart shall be called prudent: the sweetness of the lips increaseth learning."
Often was said, "She is such a caution!"
To which Aware and Prudence Forbear would exclaim in unison, "Why yes, she is the same as her name! Little Caution, our joy, our love."
Oh, how quickly did new acquaintances see the dancing light in the eyes of the family Forbear. Something friends and neighbors shared each passing day. But one, who came not to the door Forbear, might think that with names like Aware and Prudence and Caution and even a last name like Forbear, that surely such named as this must unavoidably be timid, be nervous, even shaking in a hole. But ala contraire! For those Forbears were not only forgiving and patient, even helpful to all about them; they possessed the courage of a most calm wisdom. So allegory ends...
And treatise begins... Such are those who have met Jesus, the mystery, the secret of life revealed. For Jesus blesses those who believe in Him with the wisdom to love. Love God and love one another, the wisdom of the ages. Love others even as God loves us in forbearance. God patiently endures our debts, even forgives that debt when we accept His Son as our Savior. As God forbears and forgives, so must we also, for such is love.
You too can be a caution, even a forbearer: one aware through Jesus; one wise in heart called prudent; one who with sweetness of the lips increases learning. So, cast not caution to the wind; neither be swayed by ever winds passing. Seek first the kingdom of God... For God has said in Jeremiah 33:3 KJ, "Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not." How great is the wisdom and knowledge of our Creator! What joy to be still and listen!
Listen to Ephesians 4:2 KJ, "With all lowliness and meekness, with long suffering, forbearing one another in love." Listen to Colossians 3:13 KJ, "Forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: as Christ forgave you, so also do ye."
The pathway of Jesus leads to life with Him in Heaven. Be aware; exercise prudence; use a little caution; even forbear. Tune in to Jesus, that your words bear blessing. Patiently learn to be like Jesus: meek, yet courageous; humble, yet joyful; righteous, yet forgiving; prudent, yet giving; cautious, yet astonishing; and above all, loving...
If any might need a "Little Caution," with prudence please share. And with sweetness of the lips bless them with the awareness, "Jesus loves You."
Proverbs 16:21 KJ, "The wise in heart shall be called prudent: the sweetness of the lips increaseth learning."
Thursday, April 4, 2013
TACOS TAKE FOREVER
Kids are profound. Even racing the clock to deliver kids to school on time can be a real trip in the journey of life. In our little town the breakfast choices are limited for hungry kids late for school. When asked if a taco would do, one grandson exasperatingly exclaimed, "Tacos take forever." So taco stand aside, the other choice was the country store, where fresh baked kolaches dwell along with their cousins the doughnuts. Now that's a kid's dream breakfast come true: kolaches and doughnuts with a chocolate milk chaser. What part of sugar overload and attention deficit syndrome does Paw Paw not understand? Teachers, please forgive me.
While the cashier lady rang up the sugary delights, Paw Paw lamely mentioned as a nutritional excuse, "We're running late for school."
The dark haired cashier lady tilted her head philosophically and with a good natured smile said, "Well, I always say if your not running late, you are not on time." Sometimes when least expected a gentle soul offers unique perspective on life. A way of not only seeing, but being on that smoother path.
"Wow!" Paw Paw thought, after dropping the kids off at school, "Not one, but two interrelated profundities of life! Tacos take forever! And... If you are not running late, you are not on time!" Modern life, what can I say? We live in a land where the wily taco, one of the worlds quickest meals, is considered too time consuming to be consumed. We live in a society where abnormal break neck rushing and arriving in the split-second nick of time is considered normal. Give me a break! Better yet, give me a nap! I'm tired of rushing! Our legislators think they must pass laws or they are not doing their job. So, if they are going to willy-nilly pass laws anyway, why not give us one we can use: The Right To Nap Law. Nap deprivation must end! Save the nap!
Seems no matter how we rush, we are behind, we hurry to make up time. Well folks, Paw Paw is sorry. Paw Paw can not make up time, only the Creator of time can make time up. His name is G-O-D. And while we can not make up time, we certainly need to take the time God has blessed us with to share with Him. For you see we can not make up time, save time, get ahead of time or buy time; but these things are for sure: worldly time is ticking, is limited, and does run out. On this earth God gives us time to learn to love. God gives us time to choose His Son, Jesus, without whom both time and love are lost.
Some accuse Paw Paw of over thinking everything... But one thing for sure... I can never over thank God... Thank you, Heavenly Father, for Jesus and his gift of time e-t-e-r-n-a-l... John 3:16
Tacos might not take forever... But by taking Jesus into your heart... Forever is yours...
If "Tacos Take Forever," will snap any you know out of the mad race to oblivion, and guide to the forever loving arms of Jesus, please share.
While the cashier lady rang up the sugary delights, Paw Paw lamely mentioned as a nutritional excuse, "We're running late for school."
The dark haired cashier lady tilted her head philosophically and with a good natured smile said, "Well, I always say if your not running late, you are not on time." Sometimes when least expected a gentle soul offers unique perspective on life. A way of not only seeing, but being on that smoother path.
"Wow!" Paw Paw thought, after dropping the kids off at school, "Not one, but two interrelated profundities of life! Tacos take forever! And... If you are not running late, you are not on time!" Modern life, what can I say? We live in a land where the wily taco, one of the worlds quickest meals, is considered too time consuming to be consumed. We live in a society where abnormal break neck rushing and arriving in the split-second nick of time is considered normal. Give me a break! Better yet, give me a nap! I'm tired of rushing! Our legislators think they must pass laws or they are not doing their job. So, if they are going to willy-nilly pass laws anyway, why not give us one we can use: The Right To Nap Law. Nap deprivation must end! Save the nap!
Seems no matter how we rush, we are behind, we hurry to make up time. Well folks, Paw Paw is sorry. Paw Paw can not make up time, only the Creator of time can make time up. His name is G-O-D. And while we can not make up time, we certainly need to take the time God has blessed us with to share with Him. For you see we can not make up time, save time, get ahead of time or buy time; but these things are for sure: worldly time is ticking, is limited, and does run out. On this earth God gives us time to learn to love. God gives us time to choose His Son, Jesus, without whom both time and love are lost.
Some accuse Paw Paw of over thinking everything... But one thing for sure... I can never over thank God... Thank you, Heavenly Father, for Jesus and his gift of time e-t-e-r-n-a-l... John 3:16
Tacos might not take forever... But by taking Jesus into your heart... Forever is yours...
If "Tacos Take Forever," will snap any you know out of the mad race to oblivion, and guide to the forever loving arms of Jesus, please share.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
ANNIE MOSSITEE'S STEW
From a spoon of wood Mrs. Annie Mossitee sipped her stove top stew. Her facial expression simmered from wrinkled brow, to slow boil frown, to roiling-over grimace. Like butter in a frying pan, Annie was having a melt down. "Why does everything I cook taste so bitter!" Annie growled. Her body shook. Her feet stamped. In clinched fist the wooden spoon snapped. She threw it to the floor. She kicked it through kitchen door...
...Mr. Mossitee had just stepped in. The spoon barely missed him. "Aaaah, the spoon of the assassin! Suffocated at work all day and poisoned every night. The question is: was the wife just trying to dispose of the evidence or drive a wooden stake through whats left of my coagulated heart!" Mr. Mossittee only half joked.
"Shut-up! Just shut-up you stupid jerk!" Annie Mossitee screamed...
And late that very night in the pale hallway light stood Annie and Mr. Mossitee at their children's bedroom door... There little Joy Mossitee tucked the covers under the chin of her baby brother and sang, "Sleep tight. Don't let the Annie-Mossitee bugs bite."
Too stunned to cry the Mossittes slowly stumbled down the hallway and crawled into not so grown-ups bed. As if by a higher power the song of the innocent had beaten the animosity right out of the two sparring partners. Tonight there would be no no fight over the TV remote. In silence Annie hit the button dead on...
"As the loose tongue stirs, so animosity blindly bites," said the on screen preacher. "Why be so uptight? Why stew over each others imperfections? Why let the trivial escalate? Why stir the stew of animosity? Do we eat of it, that the after taste of bitter poison linger unto death?" The Preacher paused, surveying the sand of guilt in every eye, then breathed, "The core of animosity is fear; and fear is the absence of love. When mommy and daddy fear they may not be together much longer, does not the anxiety monster lurk also under the beds of their precious children?" Not a dry eye was left in the congregation, nor in the bed of Annie Mossitee.
"Why do we," the preacher asked, "why do we all at times put the pedal to the metal of animosity? Why not just lighten up? Lighten up by looking up. For love is the light from above. The Living God is love. Never by self alone is the love of any man or woman sustained; but by the love of God, who first loved us. Lighten up! Praise first the Author of love above. Then praise each other. Count your blessings. Count especially the Son of God, Jesus. Christ Jesus, the greatest love ever given. John 3:16 KJ, 'For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever lasting life." (also 1st John 4:14-21)
And on the other side of the TV screen, the hand of Annie found the hand of her husband... And they prayed.
There is no better way to lighten up than with the light of the world... Jesus... (John 8:12)
Animosity stew... Prayer... Love restored...
See the true story of two brothers.
(Jacob & Esau: Chapters 25-33 Genesis)
And on the other side of the TV screen, the hand of Annie found the hand of her husband... And they prayed.
There is no better way to lighten up than with the light of the world... Jesus... (John 8:12)
Animosity stew... Prayer... Love restored...
See the true story of two brothers.
(Jacob & Esau: Chapters 25-33 Genesis)
Friday, March 1, 2013
LIKE THE ROSE LOVES THE RAIN
Little Rose knew that into each life a little rain must fall. Sitting up in bed, wrapped snug from her toes to her head, Rose knew each rivulet of rain spattered against the window pane. Knew too each cobble stone of the garden path beyond. And Rose smiled, watching, rhythmically nodding along with the dance of her kindred roses, flowers and ferns as they bent and leaped neath the weight of the rain. And as the plants slowly, silently drank their fill, little Rose drank too, drank deep into a vision of yesterday, when the bearer of living water walked among the garden flowers. And she remembered in that sunshiny day the joyous dance of those flowers singing at the feet of Jesus. And little Rose wept glad tears that into each life a little rain must fall... Like the Rose loves the rain, we need Jesus...
Isaiah 35:1 KJ, "The wilderness and the solitary place shall be glad for them; and the desert shall rejoice, and blossom as the rose." For the redeemed even the solitary desert wilderness will blossom like the rose. With Jesus in their hearts the faithful inherit this vision of beauty and encouragement. Isaiah 35:2 NLT, "Yes, there will be an abundance of flowers and singing and joy! The deserts will become as green as the mountains of Lebanon, as lovely as Mount Carmel or the plain of Sharon. The Lord will display his glory, the splendor of our God."
By embracing the Son of God repentance reaps redemption; the lost become the found; the forgiven become the children of God, inheritors of the promise of God. For Jesus is the love and mercy and grace of God the Father. And this is the never ending of his redeemed: Isaiah 55:12 KJ, "For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace: the mountains and hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands."
By Jesus so are we freed from worry. With Jesus the old ends; the new begins. Therefore begin every day with Jesus. See the singing of the rose, the clapping of the trees. Breath the air of the glory of God. Taste the sweetness of living water and dance neath the light of falling rain... And God said in Ezekiel 34:26 KJ, "And I will make them and the places round about my hill a blessing; and I will cause the shower to come down in his season; there shall be showers of blessing."
The shower that came down in his season is Jesus. Every day His showers continue giving blessings of salvation. And when He returns again, so will the whole earth be washed; then mountains and valleys, hills and dales shall fill with flowers singing and trees clapping.
Like the Rose loves the rain... We need Jesus... Let blossom your heart...
...Hear the flowers singing...
If "Like the Rose Loves the Rain" will water any thirsty little roses in your neighborhood, please share.
Friday, February 1, 2013
GNATS & CAMELS & RHINOCERI TO FRY
And Jesus said, "Ye blind guides, which strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel."-Matthew 23:24KJ.
Forbidden food were gnat and camel to the Jewish folks of Jesus day. In order not to swallow a gnat, the religiously stiff meticulously strained their water, yet gulped down a camel instead. Not an admirable trait is straining to the point of busting a gut on minute details; and in so doing failing to see the big picture. Especially not admirable is placing such importance on superficial rules, that justice, kindness and faith are forgotten. Can you hear echos of our judicial and governmental system here? What is more important: cleanliness of the hands or purity of heart? How many Pontius Pilots does it take to shirk responsibility?
Perhaps Jesus chose camels for this allegory, because camels 'is' testy animals that seem to a lot of the time dislike everything, even each other. If it moves, the easily annoyed camel is apt to bite, kick or spit on it. When a heavy pack is placed on its back or a rider climbs aboard, the camel whines; and in rising to its feet grunts and groans. Does any of this sound familiar? As I write, I'm checking my own skin for sprouting camel hair.
And why strain at a gnat, and why take on the charms of a camel, when we already got rhinoceri to fry? Why sweat the small stuff? Why split hairs, when God knows every hair on our head? Gnats feed on negative vibes. The more negatory we become, the peskier we are. First our eyes narrow, get beady, get bent, get short sighted. Soon our skin gets thicker and thicker till the consistency of rhino hide. Lastly, we get a long snout with horns to gore the air at unseen gnats. Then we go a charging through the Serengeti, snorting and trampling all manner of imagined threats.
Don't sweat the imagined small stuff; lest it grow to really big trouble. See clearly the gnat before your nose, before you run headlong into an oak. Why overreact, when a swat will do? Gnats and camels and rhinoceri! Thank God, Jesus gives us the option to be his sheep.
Although the cantankerous ain't no fun to play with, remember camels and rhinoceri are only the lonely. Poor, poor camels and rhinoceri need love too. Us sheep have a job to do...
If "Gnats & Camels & Rhinoceri to Fry" will tame any wildlife rooting up the shrubbery in your neighborhood, please share. Watch out for that sprouting camel hair.
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