The Arrival by Max Lucado
God had entered the world as a baby.
Yet, were someone to chance upon the sheep stable on the outskirts of Bethlehem that morning, what a peculiar scene they would behold.
The stable stinks like all stables do. The stench of urine, dung, and sheep reeks pungently in the air. The ground is hard, the hay scarce. Cobwebs cling to the ceiling and a mouse scurries across the dirt floor.
A more lowly place of birth could not exist.
Off to one side sit a group of shepherds. They sit silently on the floor; perhaps perplexed, perhaps in awe, no doubt in amazement. Their night watch had been interrupted by an explosion of light from heaven and a symphony of angels. God goes to those who have time to hear him--so on this cloudless night he went to simple shepherds.
Near the young mother sits the weary father. If anyone is dozing, he is. He can't remember the last time he sat down. And now that the excitement has subsided a bit, now that Mary and the baby are comfortable, he leans against the wall of the stable and feels his eyes grow heavy. He still hasn't figured it all out. The mystery of the event puzzles him. But he hasn't the energy to wrestle with the questions. What's important is that the baby is fine and that Mary is safe. As sleep comes he remembers the name the angel told him to use ... Jesus. "We will call him Jesus."
Wide awake is Mary. My, how young she looks! Her head rests on the soft leather of Joseph's saddle. The pain has been eclipsed by wonder. She looks into the face of the baby. Her son. Her Lord. His Majesty. At this point in history, the human being who best understands who God is and what he is doing is a teenage girl in a smelly stable. She can't take her eyes off him. Somehow Mary knows she is holding God. So this is he. She remembers the words of the angel. "His kingdom will never end." (Luke 1:33)
He looks like anything but a king. His face is prunish and red. His cry, though strong and healthy, is still the helpless and piercing cry of a baby. And he is absolutely dependent upon Mary for his well-being.
Majesty in the midst of the mundane. Holiness in the filth of sheep manure and sweat. Divinity entering the world on the floor of a stable, through the womb of a teenager and in the presence of a carpenter.
She touches the face of the infant-God. How long was your journey!
This baby had overlooked the universe. These rags keeping him warm were the robes of eternity. His golden throne room had been abandoned in favor of a dirty sheep pen. And worshiping angels had been replaced with kind but bewildered shepherds.
Meanwhile, the city hums. The merchants are unaware that God has visited their planet. The innkeeper would never believe that he had just sent God into the cold. And the people would scoff at anyone who told them the Messiah lay in the arms of a teenager on the outskirts of their village. They were all too busy to consider the possibility.
Those who missed His Majesty's arrival that night missed it not because of evil acts or malice; no, they missed it because they simply weren't looking.
Little has changed in the last two thousand years, has it?
From God Came Near© (Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2006) Max Lucado
Friday, December 26, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
THE NECKLACE
The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box.
'Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?' Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face. 'A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you ca n save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma.'
As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.
Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.
Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, 'Do you love me?' 'Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you.' 'Then give me your pearls.' 'Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She's my very favorite.' 'That's okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night.' And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.
About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, 'Do you love me?' 'Daddy, you know I love you.' 'Then give me your pearls.' 'Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll . The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper.' 'That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you.'And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.
A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style. As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. 'What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?' Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace . With a little quiver, she finally said, 'Here, daddy; this is for you.'
With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.
He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure.
So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures. God will never take away something without giving you something better in its place.
'Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?' Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face. 'A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you ca n save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma.'
As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.
Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.
Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, 'Do you love me?' 'Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you.' 'Then give me your pearls.' 'Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She's my very favorite.' 'That's okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night.' And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.
About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, 'Do you love me?' 'Daddy, you know I love you.' 'Then give me your pearls.' 'Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll . The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper.' 'That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you.'And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.
A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style. As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. 'What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?' Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace . With a little quiver, she finally said, 'Here, daddy; this is for you.'
With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.
He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure.
So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures. God will never take away something without giving you something better in its place.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Yesterday -- but not today!
I was poor yesterday, but not today;
For Jesus came this morning
And took the poor away;
And he left the legacy
He promised long ago.
So peace and joy and love
Through all my being flow.
I was tired yesterday, but not today.
I could run and not be weary,
This blessed way;
For I have his strength to stay me,
With his might my feet are shod.
I can find the resting places
In the promises of God.
A servant yesterday, a child today,
A loved one of his household,
Bearing his name alway.
Do you know this blessed difference?
Do you long for this better way?
He will come to you as he came to me
With the joy of an endless day.
Monday, September 8, 2008
Hmm, very thought provoking !!!!
This is a good one. Turn up your sound and watch the end closely:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TG4fe9GlWS8
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TG4fe9GlWS8
Friday, September 5, 2008
Duct Tape or Nail ??
A man dies and goes to heaven.
St. Peter meets him at the Pearly Gates and says, 'Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in.'
'Okay,' the man says, 'I was married to the same woman for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart.' 'That's wonderful,' says St.Peter, 'that's worth two points!' 'Two points?!'
He says. 'Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service.' 'Terrific!' says St.Peter.. 'That's certainly worth a point.' 'One point!?!!'
'I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans.' 'Fantastic, that's good for two more points,' he says. ' Two points!?!!
'Exasperated, the man cries. 'At this rate the only way I'll get into heaven is by the grace of God.' '
Bingo ! 100 points ! Come on in!'
We often try to fix problems with WD-40 and duct tape. God did it with a nail.
AMEN...
St. Peter meets him at the Pearly Gates and says, 'Here's how it works. You need 100 points to make it into heaven. You tell me all the good things you've done, and I give you a certain number of points for each item, depending on how good it was. When you reach 100 points, you get in.'
'Okay,' the man says, 'I was married to the same woman for 50 years and never cheated on her, even in my heart.' 'That's wonderful,' says St.Peter, 'that's worth two points!' 'Two points?!'
He says. 'Well, I attended church all my life and supported its ministry with my tithe and service.' 'Terrific!' says St.Peter.. 'That's certainly worth a point.' 'One point!?!!'
'I started a soup kitchen in my city and worked in a shelter for homeless veterans.' 'Fantastic, that's good for two more points,' he says. ' Two points!?!!
'Exasperated, the man cries. 'At this rate the only way I'll get into heaven is by the grace of God.' '
Bingo ! 100 points ! Come on in!'
We often try to fix problems with WD-40 and duct tape. God did it with a nail.
AMEN...
Thursday, September 4, 2008
The Second Coming
You are in your car driving home. Thoughts wander to the game you want to see or meal you want to eat, when suddenly a sound unlike any you've ever heard fills the air. The sound is high above you. A trumpet? A choir? A choir of trumpets? You don't know, but you want to know….
So you pull over, get out of your car, and look up. As you do, you see you aren't the only curious one. The roadside has become a parking lot. Car doors are open, and people are staring at the sky. Shoppers are racing out of the grocery store. The Little League baseball game across the street has come to a halt. Players and parents are searching the clouds. And what they see, and what you see, has never before been seen.
It’s as if the sky were a curtain -- the drapes of the atmosphere part. A brilliant light spills onto the earth. There are no shadows. None. From every hue ever seen and a million more never seen, riding on the flow is an endless fleet of angels. They pass through the curtains one myriad at a time, until they occupy every square inch of the sky.
North. South. East. West.
Thousands of silvery wings rise and fall in unison, and over the sound of the trumpets, you can hear the cherubim and seraphim chanting, Holy, holy, holy…. The final flank of angels is followed by twenty-four silver-bearded elders and a multitude of souls who join the angels in worship.
Suddenly, the heavens are quiet. All is quiet. The angels turn, you turn, the entire world turns and there He is. Jesus
Through waves of light you see the silhouetted figure of Christ the King. He is atop a great stallion, and the stallion is atop a billowing cloud. He opens his mouth, and you are surrounded by his declaration:
I am the Alpha and the Omega. The angels bow their heads. The elders remove their crowns. And before you is a Figure so consuming that you know, instantly you know: Nothing else matters. Forget stock markets and school reports. Sales meetings and football games. Nothing is newsworthy. All that mattered, matters no more....
For Christ has come.
So you pull over, get out of your car, and look up. As you do, you see you aren't the only curious one. The roadside has become a parking lot. Car doors are open, and people are staring at the sky. Shoppers are racing out of the grocery store. The Little League baseball game across the street has come to a halt. Players and parents are searching the clouds. And what they see, and what you see, has never before been seen.
It’s as if the sky were a curtain -- the drapes of the atmosphere part. A brilliant light spills onto the earth. There are no shadows. None. From every hue ever seen and a million more never seen, riding on the flow is an endless fleet of angels. They pass through the curtains one myriad at a time, until they occupy every square inch of the sky.
North. South. East. West.
Thousands of silvery wings rise and fall in unison, and over the sound of the trumpets, you can hear the cherubim and seraphim chanting, Holy, holy, holy…. The final flank of angels is followed by twenty-four silver-bearded elders and a multitude of souls who join the angels in worship.
Suddenly, the heavens are quiet. All is quiet. The angels turn, you turn, the entire world turns and there He is. Jesus
Through waves of light you see the silhouetted figure of Christ the King. He is atop a great stallion, and the stallion is atop a billowing cloud. He opens his mouth, and you are surrounded by his declaration:
I am the Alpha and the Omega. The angels bow their heads. The elders remove their crowns. And before you is a Figure so consuming that you know, instantly you know: Nothing else matters. Forget stock markets and school reports. Sales meetings and football games. Nothing is newsworthy. All that mattered, matters no more....
For Christ has come.
Monday, August 25, 2008
"The Funeral"
I "borrowed" this from my Aunt Jenny Wren's websit ( http://thecastingofpearls96691.yuku.com/)
As a young minister in Kentucky, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, who had no family or friends. The funeral was to be held at a new cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be buried there. I was not familiar with the backwoods area, and I soon became lost.
Being a typical man, I did not stop to ask for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the open grave, but the hearse was nowhere in sight. The digging crew was eating lunch.
I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave. There I saw the vault lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them up for long, as I told them that this was the proper thing to do.
The workers gathered around the grave and stood silently, as I began to pour out my heart and soul. As I preached about 'looking forward to a brighter tomorrow' and 'the glory that is to come,' the workers began to say 'Amen,' 'Praise the Lord,' and 'Glory!'
The fervor of these men truly inspired me; so, I preached and I preached like I had never preached before, all the way from Genesis to Revelations.
I finally closed the lengthy service with a prayer, thanked the men, and walked to my car. As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I heard one of the workers say to another:
'I ain't NEVER seen nothin' like that before, and I've been puttin' in septic tanks for thirty years!'
As a young minister in Kentucky, I was asked by a funeral director to hold a grave-side service for a homeless man, who had no family or friends. The funeral was to be held at a new cemetery way back in the country, and this man would be the first to be buried there. I was not familiar with the backwoods area, and I soon became lost.
Being a typical man, I did not stop to ask for directions. I finally arrived an hour late. I saw the backhoe and the open grave, but the hearse was nowhere in sight. The digging crew was eating lunch.
I apologized to the workers for my tardiness, and stepped to the side of the open grave. There I saw the vault lid already in place. I assured the workers I would not hold them up for long, as I told them that this was the proper thing to do.
The workers gathered around the grave and stood silently, as I began to pour out my heart and soul. As I preached about 'looking forward to a brighter tomorrow' and 'the glory that is to come,' the workers began to say 'Amen,' 'Praise the Lord,' and 'Glory!'
The fervor of these men truly inspired me; so, I preached and I preached like I had never preached before, all the way from Genesis to Revelations.
I finally closed the lengthy service with a prayer, thanked the men, and walked to my car. As I was opening the door and taking off my coat, I heard one of the workers say to another:
'I ain't NEVER seen nothin' like that before, and I've been puttin' in septic tanks for thirty years!'
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Hmmm, childproof testing!!
I was testing the children
In my Sunday school class
To see if they understood the concept
Of getting to heaven.
I asked them, 'If I sold my house and my car,
Had a big garage sale
And gave all my money
To the church,
Would that get me into Heaven?'
'NO!' the children answered.
'If I cleaned the church every day, and
Mowed the yard,
And kept everything neat and tidy,
Would that get me into Heaven?'
Again, the answer was, 'NO!'
By now I was starting to smile.
Hey, this was fun! '
Well, then, if I was kind to animals
And gave candy
To all the children,
And loved my husband,
Would that get me into Heaven?', I asked them again.
Again, they all answered, 'NO!'
I was just bursting with pride for them.
'Well,' I continued,
'then how can I get into Heaven?'
A five-year-old boy shouted out,
'YOU GOTTA BE DEAD.'
Monday, August 4, 2008
A Special Thought for Special People
Love this story.... I hope I think of it every time I have a cup of tea.........
There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't do that." "I don't like it!" "Let me alone," but he only smiled, and gently said; "Not yet!"
Then: WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it ! I'm ! getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!", I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, quietly; 'Not yet.' He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then......
Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door." Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, 'Not yet'. When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool.
Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought. But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please; Stop it, Stop it!! I cried. He only shook his head and said. 'Not yet!'.
Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up.
Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering "What's he going to do to me next?" An hour later he handed me a mirror and said 'Look at yourself.' And I did. I said, 'That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!"
Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."
The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will. So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this....Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the Potter.
There was a couple who took a trip to England to shop in a beautiful antique store to celebrate their 25th wedding anniversary. They both liked antiques and pottery, and especially teacups. Spotting an exceptional cup, they asked "May we see that? We've never seen a cup quite so beautiful."
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke, "You don't understand. I have not always been a teacup. There was a time when I was just a lump of red clay. My master took me and rolled me, pounded and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "Don't do that." "I don't like it!" "Let me alone," but he only smiled, and gently said; "Not yet!"
Then: WHAM! I was placed on a spinning wheel and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. "Stop it ! I'm ! getting so dizzy! I'm going to be sick!", I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, quietly; 'Not yet.' He spun me and poked and prodded and bent me out of shape to suit himself and then......
Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I yelled and knocked and pounded at the door." Help! Get me out of here!" I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head from side to side, 'Not yet'. When I thought I couldn't bear it another minute, the door opened. He carefully took me out and put me on the shelf, and I began to cool.
Oh, that felt so good! "Ah, this is much better," I thought. But, after I cooled he picked me up and he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Oh, please; Stop it, Stop it!! I cried. He only shook his head and said. 'Not yet!'.
Then suddenly he put me back in to the oven. Only it was not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I just knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried I was convinced I would never make it. I was ready to give up.
Just then the door opened and he took me out and again placed me on the shelf, where I cooled and waited and waited, wondering "What's he going to do to me next?" An hour later he handed me a mirror and said 'Look at yourself.' And I did. I said, 'That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful!"
Quietly he spoke: "I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurt to be rolled and pounded and patted, but had I just left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened. You would not have had any color in your life. If I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't have survived for long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. Now you are what I had in mind when I first began with you."
The moral of this story is this: God knows what He's doing for each of us He is the potter, and we are His clay. He will mold us and make us, and expose us to just enough pressures of just the right kinds that we may be made into a flawless piece of work to fulfill His good, pleasing and perfect will. So when life seems hard, and you are being pounded and patted and pushed almost beyond endurance; when your world seems to be spinning out of control; when you feel like you are in a fiery furnace of trials; when life seems to "stink", try this....Brew a cup of your favorite tea in your prettiest tea cup, sit down and think on this story and then, have a little talk with the Potter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
.JPG)
