THE TOUCH OF THE MASTER'S HAND

'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer

Thought it scarcely worth his while

To waste much time on the old violin,

But held it up with a smile.

"What am I bidden, good folks," he cried,

"Who'll start the bidding for me?"

"A dollar, a dollar," then, two! Only two?

"Two dollars, and who'll make it three?"

"Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;

Going for three..."

But no, From the room, far back, a grey-haired man

Came forward and picked up the bow;

Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,

And tightening the loose strings,

He played a melody pure and sweet

As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,

With a voice that was quiet and low,

Said: "What am I bid for the old violin?"

And he held it up with the bow.

"A thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?

Two thousand! And who'll make it three?

Three thousand, once; three thousand, twice;

And going and gone," said he.

The people cheered, but some of them cried,

"We do not quite understand

What changed its worth?" Swift came the reply:

The touch of the master's hand."

And many a man with life out of tune,

And battered and scarred with sin,

Is auctioneered cheap to the thoughtless crowd,

Much like the old violin.

A "mess of potage", a glass of wine;

A game - he travels on.

He is "going" once, and "going" twice,

He's "going" and almost "gone".

But the Master comes and the foolish crowd

Never can quite understand

The worth of a soul and the change that's wrought

By the touch of the Master's hand.

~Myra B. Welch

Shirley and Marcy

A mom was concerned about her kindergarten son
walking to school. He didn't want his mother to walk with him.

She wanted to give him the feeling that he had some
independence but yet know that he was safe. So she had an idea of how to
handle it.

She asked a neighbor if she would please follow him
to school in the mornings, staying at a distance, so he probably
wouldn't notice her. She said that since she was up early with her toddler
anyway, it would be a good way for them to get some exercise as well, so she
agreed. The next school day, the neighbor and her little girl set out
following behind Timmy as he walked to school with another neighbor girl he knew.

She did this for the whole week. As the t wo walked and chatted,
kicking stones and twigs, Timmy' s little friend noticed the
same lady was following them as she seemed to do every day all week.

Finally she said to Timmy, 'Have you noticed that lady following us to
school all week? Do you know her?'

Timmy nonchalantly replied, 'Yeah, I know who she is.'

The little girl said, 'Well, who is she?'

'That's just Shirley Goodnest,' Timmy replied, 'and her daughter
Marcy.'

'Shirley Goodnest? Who is she and why is she following us?' 'Well,'
Timmy explained, 'every night my Mom makes me say the 23rd
Psalm with my prayers, 'cuz she worries about me so much. And in the
Psalm, it says, 'Shirley Goodnest and Marcy shall follow me all the days of
my life', so I guess I'll just have to get used to it!'

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon
you, and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift His countenance upon you, and
give you peace.

May Shirley Goodnest and Marcy be with you today and
always.

DOES GOD EXIST?

This is one of the best explanations of why God allows pain and suffering that I have seen. It's an explanation other people will understand.

A man went to a barbershop to have his hair cut and his beard trimmed. As the barber began to work, they began to have a good conversation. They talked about so many things and various subjects.

When they eventually touched on the subject of God, the barber said: "I don't believe that God exists." "Why do you say that?" asked the customer. "Well, you just have to go out in the street to realize that God doesn't exist. Tell me, if God exists, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abandoned children? If God existed, there would be neither suffering nor pain. I can't imagine a loving a God who would allow all of these things."

The customer thought for a moment, but didn't respond because he didn't want to start an argument. The barber finished his job and the customer left the shop.

Just after he left the barbershop, he saw a man in the street with long, stringy, dirty hair and an untrimmed beard. He looked dirty and un-kept. The customer turned back and entered the barber shop again and he said to the barber: "You know what? Barbers do not exist."

"How can you say that?" asked the surprised barber. "I am here, and I am a barber. And I just worked on you!" "No!" the customer exclaimed. "Barbers don't exist because if they did, there would be no people with dirty long hair and untrimmed beards, like that man outside." "Ah, but barbers DO exist! What happens is, people do not come to me."

"Exactly!"- affirmed the customer. "That's the point! God, too, DOES exist! What happens, is, people don't go to Him and do not look for Him. That's why there's so much pain and suffering in the world."

TWO HORSES

There is a field with two horses. From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse. But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing.

Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind. His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him. This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell. Looking around for the source of the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field. Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell. It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.

As you stand and watch these two horses, you'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the blind horse, and that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk to where the other horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray. When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and looks back, making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.

Like the owners of these two horses, God does not throw us away just because we are not perfect or because we have problems or challenges. He watches over us and even brings others into our lives to help us when we are in need. Sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those who God places in our lives. Other times we are the guide horse, helping others to find their way....

Good friends are like that... you may not always see them, but you know they are always there. Please listen for my bell and I'll listen for yours. And remember...be kinder than necessary-- everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

TODAY I TAUGHT MY CHILD

When I got mad today and hit my child "For his own good, " I reconciled,and then I realized my plight...Today, I taught my child to fight.

When interrupted by the phone, I said, "tell them I'm not home." And then I thought, and had to sigh...Today I taught my child to lie.

I told the tax man what I made, forgetting cash that was paid, And than I blushed at this sad feat...Today I taught my child to cheat.

I smugly copied a cassette,To keep me from one more debt, But now the bells of shame must peal...Today I taught my child to steal.

Today I cursed another race, Oh God, protect what I debase, for now, I fear it is too late...Today I taught my child to hate.

By my example, children learnThat I must lead in life's sojourn. In such a way they are led By what is done and not what is said.

Today I gave my child his due By praise for him instead of rue. And now I have begun to guide; Today I gave my child pride.

I now have reconciled and paid to IRS all that I have made. And now I know that this dear youth, Today has learned from me the truth.

The alms I give are not for show, And yet, this child must surely know That charity is worth the price: Today he saw my sacrifice.

I clasp within a warm embrace My neighbor of another race. The great commandment from up above. Today I taught my child to love.

Someday my child must face aloneThis fearsome undertone, But I have blazed a sure pathway:

Today I taught my child to pray.

WOULD YOU CONSIDER ABORTION IN THE FOLLOWING SITUATIONS?

1. There's a preacher and wife who are very, very, poor. They already have 14 kids. Now she finds out she's pregnant with her 15th. They're living in tremendous poverty. Considering their poverty, and the excessive world population, would you consider recommending she get an abortion?

2. The father is sick with sniffles, the mother has TB. They have 4 children. 1st is blind, 2nd is dead, 3rd is deaf, 4th has TB. She finds she's pregnant again. Given the extreme situation, would you consider recommending abortion?

3. A white man raped a 13 year old black girl and she got pregnant. If you were her parents, would you consider recommending abortion?

4. A teenage girl is pregnant. She's not married. Her fiance is not the father of the baby, and he's very upset. Would you consider recommending abortion?

In the first case, you have just killed John Wesley. One of the great evangelists in the 19th century.

In the second case, you have killed Beethoven.

In the third case, you have killed Ethel Waters, the great black gospel singer.

If you said yes to the fourth case, you have just declared the murder of Jesus Christ!

-Unknown

Taxes

A tax assessor came one day to a poor Christian to determine the amount of taxes he would have to pay. The following conversation took place:

"What property do you possess?" asked the assessor."I am a very wealthy man," replied the Christian."List your possessions, please," the assessor instructed.

The Christian said:

"First, I have everlasting life, John 3:16

Second, I have a mansion in heaven, John 14:2

Third, I have peace that passes all understanding, Philippians 4:7

Fourth, I have joy unspeakable, 1 Peter 1:8

Fifth, I have divine love which never fails, 1 Corinthians 13:8

Sixth, I have a faithful wife, Proverbs 31:10

Seventh, I have healthy, happy obedient children, Exodus 20:12

Eighth, I have true, loyal friends, Proverbs 18:24

Ninth, I have songs in the night, Psalms 42:8

Tenth, I have a crown of life, James 1:12"

The tax assessor closed his book, and said, "Truly you are a very rich man, but your property is not subject to taxation."

"The Files"

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room filled with small files, which seemed to go on forever. The first file to catch my attention read "Boys I Have Liked." I quickly shut the file, shocked to realize that I knew these boys. And then, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room was a card catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of every single moment.

I began randomly opening files and exploring their contents. Some brought joy and sweet memories: others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. The files ranged from "Friends", to "Friends I Have Betrayed." "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Things I Have Mutter Under My Breath." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. It didn't seem possible that I could have written all of these cards, but each card was in my own handwriting, and each signed with my signature.
When I came to one marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, and shuddered at it's detailed content. Rage exploded within me. NO ONE MUST EVER SEE THESE CARDS! I HAVE TO DESTROY THEM! In an insane frenzy, I yanked the file out and began pounding it on the floor, but I couldn't dislodge a single card. I tried to tear a single card, only to find that it was as hard as steel. Defeated and helpless, I let out a long sigh, and then I saw it. The title read "People with Whom I Have Shared The Gospel." The handle was brighter than those around it. Newer, Almost unused. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

I fell to my knees and cried out of shame--the overwhelming shame of it all. But as I pushed away the tears I saw Him. No! NOT HERE. ANYONE BUT JESUS. Why did he have to go through every one? He seemed intuitively to go to the worst boxes. I dropped my head and covered my face with my hands. He walked over and put His arms around me. He could have said so many things, but he didn't say a word. He just cried with me. He got up and went back to the first file and began signing his name over mine. "No!" I shouted. I grabbed the card from him and there it was-- written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine, it was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back and continued signing. I don't know how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side, He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on the door. There were still cards to be written

"He's My Only Son" -- (author unknown)

The day is over, you are driving home. You tune in your radio.You hear a little blurb about a little village in India where some villagers have died suddenly, strangely, of a flu that has never been seen before. Its not influenza, but three of four people are dead, and its kind of interesting, and they are sending some doctors over there to investigate it.

You don't think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say its not three villagers, its 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it's on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, its the lead story. For its not just India; its Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran and before you know it, you're hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as "the mystery flu." The President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering, "How are we going to contain it?"

That's when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen. And that's why that night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French news program into English; There's a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. It has come to Europe. Panic strikes. As best they can tell, once you get it you have it for a week before you know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. And then you die. Britain closes its borders, but its too late. South Hampton, Liverpool, North Hampton and it's Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the following announcement: "Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I'm sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing." Within four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are talking about "What if it comes to this country"? And preachers on Tuesday are saying "It's the scourge of God."

It's Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and yells, "Turn on a radio, turn on a radio!" And while the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made. Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery flu. Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country. People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It's as though it's just sweeping in from the borders. And then all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It's going to take the blood of somebody who hasn't been infected and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That's all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly and safely, to the hospitals.

Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line and they've got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it. Your spouse and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, "wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name you can be dismissed and go home." You stand around, scared, with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on and if this is the end of the World. Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He's yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says," Daddy, that's me." Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. "Wait a minute. Hold on!" And they say, Its okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn't have the disease. We think he has got the right type.

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses crying and hugging one another-some are even laughing. It's the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, "Thank you sir. Your son's blood type is perfect. It's clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine." As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying.

But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, "May we see you for a moment? We didn't realize that the donor would be a minor and we need.....we need you to sign a consent form." You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. "H-h-h-ow many pints?" And that is when the old doctor's smile fades and he says, "We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren't prepared. We need it all!" "But-but. . . .I don't understand. He's my only son!" "We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We-We need it all!" "But can't you give him a transfusion?"
"If we had clean blood we would. Please, will you please sign?" In numb silence you do. Then they say, "would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?" Could you walk back?

Could you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, "Daddy? Mommy? What's going on?" Could you take his hands and say, "Son, your mommy and I love you and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn't just have to be. Do you understand that?" And when that old doctor comes back in and says, "I'm sorry, we've got to get started. People all over the world are dying." Could you leave? Could you walk out while he is saying, "Dad? Mom? Dad? Why. . . .why have you forsaken me?"

And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don't even bother to come because they have better things to do, and some folks come with just a pretentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, "EXCUSE ME! MY SON DIED FOR YOU! MY ONLY SON! DON'T YOU EVEN CARE? DOES IT MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?"

SEMINARY DONUTS

There was a boy by the name of Steve who was attending Seminary in Utah. In this Seminary, classes are held during school hours.

Brother Christianson taught Seminary at this particular school. He had an open-door policy and would take in any student that had been thrown out of another class as long as they would abide by his rules. Steve had been kicked out of his sixth period and no other teacher wanted him, so he went into Brother Christianson's Seminary class.

Steve was told that he could not be late, so he arrived just seconds before the bell rang and he would sit in the very back of the room. He would also be the first to leave after the class was over. One day, Brother Christianson asked Steve to stay after class so he could talk with him. After class, Bro. Christianson pulled Steve aside and said, "You think you're pretty tough, don't you?"

Steve's answer was, "Yeah, I do."

Then Brother Christianson asked, "How many push-ups can you do?" Steve said, "I do about 200 every night."
"200? That's pretty good, Steve," Brother Christianson said. "Do you think you could do 300?" Steve replied, "I don't know... I've never done 300 at a time." "Do you think you could?" asked Brother Christianson again.
"Well, I can try," said Steve.

"Can you do 300 in sets of 10? I need you to do 300 in sets of ten for this to work. Can you do it? I need you to tell me you can do it," Brother Christianson said. Steve said, "Well... I think I can... yeah, I can do it." Brother Christianson said, "Good! I need you to do this on Friday."

Friday came and Steve got to class early and sat in the front of the room. When class started, Brother Christianson pulled out a big box of donuts. Now these weren't the normal kinds of donuts, they were the extra fancy BIG kind, with cream centers and frosting swirls. Everyone was pretty excited-it was Friday, the last class of the day, and they were going to get an early start on the weekend. Bro. Christianson went to the first girl in the first row and asked, "Cynthia, do you want a donut?" Cynthia said, "Yes." Bro. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve, would you do ten push-ups so that Cynthia can have a donut?"
Steve said, "Sure," and jumped down from his desk to do a quick ten. Then Steve again sat in his desk. Bro. Christianson put a donut on Cynthia's desk.

Bro. Christianson then went to Joe, the next person, and asked, "Joe do you want a donut?" Joe said, "Yes."
Bro. Christianson asked, "Steve would you do ten push-ups so Joe can have a donut?" Steve did ten push-ups; Joe got a donut.

And so it went, down the first aisle, Steve did ten pushups for every person before they got their donut. And down the second aisle, till Bro. Christianson came to Scott. Scott was captain of the football team and center of the basketball team. He was very popular and never lacking for female companionship. When Bro. Christianson asked, "Scott do you want a donut?" Scott's reply was, "Well, can I do my own pushups?"
Bro. Christianson said, "No, Steve has to do them." Then Scott said, "Well, I don't want one then."
Bro. Christianson then turned to Steve and asked, "Steve, would you do ten pushups so Scott can have a donut he doesn't want?"

Steve started to do ten pushups. Scott said, "HEY! I said I didn't want one!" Bro. Christianson said, "Look, this is my classroom, my class, my desks, and my donuts. Just leave it on the desk if you don't want it." And he put a donut on Scott's desk.

Now by this time, Steve had begun to slow down a little. He just stayed on the floor between sets because it took too much effort to be getting up and down. You could start to see a little perspiration coming out around his brow. Bro. Christianson started down the third row. Now the students were beginning to get a little angry.
Bro. Christianson asked Jenny, "Jenny, do you want a donut?" Jenny said, "No." Then Bro. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would you do ten pushups so Jenny can have a donut that she doesn't want?" Steve did ten; Jenny got a donut.

By now, the students were beginning to say "No" and there were all these uneaten donuts on the desks. Steve was also having to really put forth a lot of effort to get these pushups done for each donut. There began to be a small pool of sweat on the floor beneath his face, his arms and brow were beginning to get red because of the physical effort involved. Bro. Christianson asked Robert to watch Steve to make sure he did ten pushups in a set because he couldn't bear to watch all of Steve's work for all of those uneaten donuts. So Robert began to watch Steve closely.

Bro. Christianson started down the fourth row. During his class, however, some students had wandered in and sat along the heaters along the sides of the room. When Bro. Christianson realized this; he did a quick count and saw 34 students in the room. He started to worry if Steve would be able to make it. Bro. Christianson went on to the next person and the next and the next. Near the end of that row, Steve was really having a rough time. He was taking a lot more time to complete each set.

Steve asked Bro. Christianson, "Do I have to make my nose touch on each one?" Bro. Christianson thought for a moment, "Well, they're your pushups. You can do them any way that you want." And Bro. Christianson went on.

A few moments later, Jason came to the room and was about to come in when all the students yelled, "NO! Don't come in! Stay out!" Jason didn't know what was going on. Steve picked up his head and said, "No, let him come." Bro. Christianson said, "You realize that if Jason comes in you will have to do ten pushups for him."
Steve said, "Yes, let him come in." Bro. Christianson said, "Okay, I'll let you get Jason's out of the way right now. Jason, do you want a donut?" "Yes." "Steve, will you do ten pushups so that Jason can have a donut?"
Steve did ten pushups very slowly and with great effort. Jason, bewildered, was handed a donut and sat down.

Bro. Christianson finished the fourth row, then started on those seated on the heaters. Steve's arms were now shaking with each pushup in a struggle to lift himself against the force of gravity. Sweat was dropping off of his face and, by this time, there was not a dry eye in the room.

The very last two girls in the room were cheerleaders and very popular. Bro. Christianson went to Linda, the second to last, and asked, "Linda, do you want a doughnut? Linda said, very sadly, "No, thank you."
Bro. Christianson asked Steve, "Steve, would you do ten pushups so that Linda can have a donut she doesn't want?" Grunting from the effort, Steve did ten very slow pushups for Linda.

Then Bro. Christianson turned to the last girl, Susan. "Susan, do you want a donut?" Susan, with tears flowing down her face, asked, "Bro. Christianson , can I help him?" Bro. Christianson, with tears of his own, said, "No, he has to do it alone. Steve, would you do ten pushups so Susan can have a donut?" As Steve very slowly finished his last pushup, with the understanding that he had accomplished all that was required of him, having done 350 pushups, his arms buckled beneath him, and he fell to the floor.

Brother Christianson turned to the room and said. "And so it was, that our Savior, Jesus Christ, plead to the Father, "Into thy hands I commend my Spirit." With the understanding that He had done everything that was required of Him, he collapsed on the cross and died. And like some of those in this room, many of us leave the gift on the desk, uneaten."