Broken Wings - By James Motherall

Broken wings, wounded heart
Dreams that couldn’t come true
Shattered hopes, because of lies
That I couldn’t see though
Reaching for love, finding pain
Build the walls or get hurt again
No one tells the truth anymore
Broken Spirit, untried wings
So afraid to fly.
Like a rose without the sun
The spirit just withers and dies
I reached for the sun, found the rain
Ran away to avoid the pain
But I can’t hide anymore
Now my spirit wants to fly
Spread its wings and soar high in the sky
Till I could almost touch the hand of God
Like the thorns upon the rose
There will be hard times
So I will trust my heart to Him
Whose power is greater than mine
He will keep and give me rest
He will guide me through every test
He will always be there when I call
Jesus loves me this I know
Because the Bible tells me so
Jesus loves me this I know

The Forgotten Garden - by Cynthia Gies

The garden was forgotten,
Destoryed by man’s thoughtlessness,
It seemed all was lost.
Then someone remember the old man’s garden,
They remember the beauty, the peace, and the caring that was there.
The remembering made them care again, to restore the garden in all it’s splendor,
So it would not be a fading memory captured in a picture to be forgotten in time, as a product of the mind.
So again the garden stands in it’s beauty and grace.
For it is a rare garden that is filled with such love, and caring that the garden is a glow, with life and laughter.
It is a garden which brings to the soul the deepest serenity.
Few understand the garden.
Still fewer understand enough to care and keep the garden,
So that others may be give the chance to know and understand the most radiant beauty of the garden.

The Search - by Cynthia Gies

The universe is full of many things,
It knows much and is telling little,
Some live not questioning it,
Others spend their life time pursuing it,
And in the end are not much wiser for their efforts.
For in the merry chase for knowledge,
Much is missed that should be known.
For what they search escapes them, and they know it not.
For what they seek is not to be found.

French Joke in English

A thief in Paris planned to steal some paintings from the Louvre.

After carefully planning, he got past security, stole the paintings and made it safely to his van. However, he was captured only two blocks away when his van ran out of gas. When asked how he could mastermind such a crime and then make such an obvious error, he replied: "Monsieur, that’s the reason I stole the paintings. I had no Monet to buy Degas to make the Van Gogh."

Can’t Outsmart A Newfie

A Newfie went hunting one day in Ontario and bagged three ducks. He put them in the bed of his pickup truck and was about to drive home when he was confronted by an ornery game warden who didn’t like Newfies.

The game warden ordered the Newfie to show his hunting license, and the Newfie pulled out a valid Ontario hunting license. The game warden looked at the license, then reached over and picked up one of the ducks, sniffed its butt, and said, "This duck ain’t from Ontario. This is a Quebec duck. You got a Quebec huntin’ license, boy?" The Newfie reached into his wallet and produced a Quebec hunting license. The game warden looked at it, then reached over and grabbed the second duck, sniffed its butt, and said "This ain’t no Quebec duck. This duck’s from Manitoba. You got a Manitoba license?" The Newfie reached into his wallet and produced a Manitoba hunting license. The warden then reached over and picked up the third duck, sniffed its butt, and said, "This ain’t no Manitoba duck. This here duck’s from Nova Scotia. You got a Nova Scotia huntin’ license?" Again the Newfie reached into his wallet and brought out a Nova Scotia hunting license. The game warden was extremely frustrated at this point, and he yelled at the Newfie "Just where the hell are you from?" The Newfie turned around, bent over, dropped his pants, and said, "You tell me, you’re the expert."

Flight Delay

A woman was flying from Seattle to San Francisco. Unexpectedly, the plane was diverted to Sacramento along the way. The flight attendant explained that there would be a delay, and if the passengers wanted to get off the aircraft the plane would re-board in 50 minutes.

Everybody got off the plane except one lady who was blind. The man had noticed her as he walked by and could tell the lady was blind because her Seeing Eye dog lay quietly underneath the seats in front of her throughout the entire flight.

He could also tell she had flown this very flight before because the pilot approached her, and calling her by name, said, "Kathy, we are in Sacramento for almost an hour. Would you like to get off and stretch your legs?" The blind lady replied, "No thanks, but maybe my dog would like to stretch his legs."

Picture this:

All the people in the gate area came to a complete standstill when they looked up and saw the pilot walk off the plane with a Seeing Eye dog! The pilot was even wearing sunglasses. People scattered. They not only tried to change planes, but they were trying to change airlines!

True story….

Where do pets come from?

A newly discovered chapter in the Book of Genesis has provided the answer to "Where do pets come from?"? Adam and Eve said, "Lord, when we were in the garden, you walked with us every day. Now we do not see you any more. We are lonesome here, and it is difficult for us to remember how much you love us."

God said, I will create a companion for you that will be with you and who will be a reflection of my love for you, so that you will love me even when you cannot see me. Regardless of how selfish or childish or unlovable you may be, this new companion will accept you as you are and will love you as I do, in spite of yourselves." And God created a new animal to be a companion for Adam and Eve. It was a good animal, And God was pleased.

The new animal was pleased to be with Adam and Eve and he wagged his tail. Adam said, "Lord, I have already named all the animals in the Kingdom and I cannot think of a name for this new animal." God said, " I have created this new animal to be a reflection of my love for you, his name will be a reflection of my own name, and you will call him DOG."

The Dog lived with Adam and Eve and was a companion to them and loved them, and they were comforted. The Dog was content and wagged his tail. God was pleased.

After a while, it came to pass that an angel came to the Lord and said, "Lord, Adam and Eve have become filled with pride. They strut and preen like peacocks and they believe they are worthy of adoration. The Dog has indeed taught them that they are loved, but perhaps too well."

God said, I will create for them a companion who will be with them and who will see them as they are. The companion will remind them of their limitations, so they will know that they are not always worthy of adoration." So God created CAT to be a companion to Adam and Eve.

The Cat would not obey them. And when Adam and Eve gazed into Cat’s eyes, they were reminded that they were not the supreme beings. Adam and Eve learned humility, and they were greatly improved.

God was pleased. The Dog was happy, and Cat didn’t give a shit one way or the other.

THERE WILL BE AN ANSWER

For all the negative things we have said to ourselves –

Jehovah has a positive answer for us.

You May Say:
Jehovah Says:

It’s impossible …
All things are possible (Luke 18:27)

I am loaded down …
I will refresh you (Matt. 11:28 – 30)

Nobody really loves me …
With a love to time indefinite I have loved you (Jer. 31:3)

I am weak …
I will make you strong (1 Peter 5:10)

I fell short in doing what is right …
Get up (Prov. 24:16)

I can’t go on …
I will give you power beyond what is normal (2 Cor. 4:7)

I can’t figure things out …
I will direct your steps (Prov 3:5 – 6)

I can’t do it …
You can do all things (Phil. 4:13)

I am about to give up …
Don’t. Fight the fine fight of the faith (1 Tim. 6:11)

I am not able …
I am able (2 Cor. 9:8)

It’s not worth it …
It will be worth it (Rom. 8:28)

I feel unworthy …
You are counted worthy (2 Thess. 1:5)

I have sinned …
I am ready to forgive (Ps. 86:5)

I can’t forgive myself …
I forgive you in a large way (Isa. 55:7; Rom. 8:1; 1 john 1:9)

My heart condemns me …
I am greater than your heart (1 John 3:19)

I can’t manage …
I will supply all your needs (Phil. 4:19)

I don’t have enough faith …
I’ve given everyone a measure of faith (Rom. 12:3)

Keep asking and I shall give (Matt. 7:7)

I’m afraid …
I have not given you a spirit of fear; do not be afraid, be strong. 92 Tim. 1:7; Isa. 35:4)

I’m not smart enough …
I will give you wisdom generously. (1 Cor. 1:30; James 1:5)

I feel rejected …
You are my servant and I have not rejected you. (Isa. 41:9)

I feel abandoned …
I will never leave you or forsake you. (Heb. 13:5)

I’m lonely …
Do not be afraid, for I am with you. (Isa. 41:10)

I feel helpless …
I will fortify you, I will really help you. (Isa. 41:10)

I am anxious over many things …
Do not be anxious over anything. Make your anxieties known to me. (Phil. 4:6)

I am angry with myself …
Let anger alone and leave rage. (Ps. 4:6)

I cry a lot …
Your tears are precious and are kept in my skin bottle. (Ps. 56:8)

I have to make myself go in service …
You will go back with a joyful cry. (Ps. 126:5)

I don’t know how to preach …
I will teach you. (Luke 12:11, 12)

No one seems to care …
I care for you. (1 Peter 5:7)

I feel lost …
I found you. (Luke 15:24)

I am hurt …
Let it go. (Eccl. 7:9)

I am depressed …
I am right there with you. (Ps. 34:18)

I am confused …
Lean on me. I will make things straight. (Prov. 3:6)

I don’t know what to do …
Listen to me. I will give you wisdom. (Prov. 2:1 – 5)

I feel worn out …
Hope in me and you will regain power. (Isa. 40:13)

I can’t wait …
Hang on a little while longer. (Ps. 37:10)

Since we may all have these feelings at one time or another, it should be helpful to get Jehovah’s viewpoint on these matters. We have so much to gain by working to adopt His viewpoint!

Father’s Talk

People always say how mean kids can be, never how nice they can be. This story will either make you cry, give you cold chills or just leave you cold, but it puts life into perspective!

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves learning-disabled children, the father of one of the school’s students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all that attended.

After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question.

"Everything God does is done with perfection. Yet, my son Shay cannot learn things as other children do.

He cannot understand things as other children do.

Where is God’s plan reflected in my son?" The audience was stilled by the query. The father continued.

"I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like Shay into the world, an opportunity to realize the Divine Plan presents itself and it comes in the way people treat that child."

Then, he told the following story:

Shay and his father had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, "Do you think they will let me play?" Shay’s father knew that the boys would not want him on their team. But the father understood that if his son were allowed to play it would give him much-needed sense of belonging.

Shay’s father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates.

Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We are losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning."

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. At the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the outfield. Although no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be on the field, grinning from ear to ear as his father waved to him from the stands.

In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base.

Shay was scheduled to be the next at-bat. Would the team actually let Shay bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game? Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat.

Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball.

However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least be able to make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed.

The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

Everyone started yelling, "Shay, run to first, run to first."

Never in his life had Shay ever made it to first base. He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled. Everyone yelled, "run to second, run to second!" By the time Shay was rounding first base, the right fielder had the ball.

He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman for a tag. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher’s intentions had been, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman’s head. Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.

As Shay reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "run to third!" As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams were screaming, "Shay Run home!" Shay ran home, stepped on home plate and was cheered as the hero for hitting a "grand slam" and winning the game for his team.

"That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of the Divine Plan into this world."

We all have dozens of opportunities a day to help realize God’s plan. So many seemingly trivial interactions between people present us with choice; do we pass along a spark of the Divine-love that God gives to us every day?

Or do we pass up that opportunity and leave the world a bit colder in the process?

The Room

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed ‘em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It’s a killer. It’s the bomb. It’s the best thing I ever wrote."

It also was the last. Brian’s parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager’s locker at Teary Valley High School.

Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them – notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.

Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen’s life.

But it was only after Brian’s death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.

Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moores framed a copy of Brian’s essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point.

I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it, " Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son’s vision of life after death. "I’m happy for Brian. I know he’s in heaven. I know I’ll see him.

Brian’s Essay
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order.

But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. 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.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird.

"Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I’ve yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn’t laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.

Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards?

But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards!

No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With."

The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came.

I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response.

And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.

Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.

He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things.

But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive.

The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand 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 its door. There were still cards to be written.

"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."- Phil. 4:13

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."

Angels in Indiana

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared.

Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. So, I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best home-made dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck.

The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job.

Still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel.

An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night.

I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.

That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money–fully half of what I averaged every night.

As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home. One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires!
There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered.

I made a deal with the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn’t enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning.

Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel.

These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim and a state Trooper named Joe. A few musicians we’re hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine.

The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up.

When it was time for me to go home at seven o’clock on Christmas Morning, I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn’t wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.) It was still dark and I couldn’t see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver’s side door, climbed inside and knelt in the front facing the back seat.

Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box and it was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll.

As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life. I was sobbing with gratitude and I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.

Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop….

SPECIAL GROCERY LIST

Louise Redden, a poorly dressed lady with a look of defeat on her face, walked into a grocery store. She approached the owner of the store in a most humble manner and asked if he would let her charge a few groceries.
She softly explained that her husband was very ill and unable to work,
they had seven children and they needed food. John Longhouse, the grocer, scoffed at her and requested that she leave his store at once.

Visualizing the family needs, she said: ‘Please, sir! I will bring you the money just as soon as I can.’ John told her he could not give her credit, since she did not have a charge account at his store. Standing beside the
counter was a customer who overheard the conversation between the two. The
customer walked forward and told the grocer that he would stand good for
whatever she needed for her family.

The grocer said in a very reluctant voice, ‘Do you have a grocery list?’

Louise replied, ‘Yes sir.’ ‘O.K’ he said, ‘put your grocery list on the scales and whatever your grocery list weighs, I will give you that amount in groceries.’

Louise, hesitated a moment with a bowed head, then she reached into her purse and took out a piece of paper and scribbled something on it. She then laid the piece of paper on the scale carefully with her head still
bowed. The eyes of the grocer and the customer showed amazement when the scales went down and stayed down. The grocer, staring at the scales, turned slowly to the customer and said begrudgingly, ‘I can’t believe it.’

The customer smiled and the grocer started putting the groceries on the other side of the scales. The scale did not balance so he continued to put more and more groceries on them until the scales would hold no more. The grocer stood there in utter disgust. Finally, he grabbed the piece of paper from the scales and looked at it with greater amazement.

It was not a grocery list, it was a prayer, which said: ‘Dear Lord, you know my needs and I am leaving this in your hands.’

The grocer gave her the groceries that he had gathered and stood in stunned silence.

Louise thanked him and left the store. The other customer handed a fifty-dollar bill to the grocer and said; ‘It was worth every penny of it. Only God Knows how much a prayer weighs.

Perception

Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:
The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk..

6 minutes:
A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:
A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:
The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a
short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:
He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces
ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story.
Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the
Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and
people’s priorities.. The questions arose: in a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?
Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize talent in an unexpected
context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made…. How many other things are we missing?

Just Check’n In

A minister passing through his church
in the middle of the day,
Decided to pause by the altar
and see who had come to pray.

Just then the back door opened,
a man came down the aisle,
The minister frowned as he saw
the man hadn’t shaved in a while.
His shirt was kinda shabby
and his coat was worn and frayed,
the man knelt, he bowed his head,
Then rose and walked away.

In the days that followed,
each noon time came this chap,
each time he knelt just for a moment,
A lunch pail in his lap.

Well, the minister’s suspicions grew,
with robbery a main fear,
He decided to stop the man and ask him,
‘What are you doing here?’

The old man said, he worked down the road.
Lunch was half an hour.
Lunch time was his prayer time,
For finding strength and power.

‘I stay only moments, see,
because the factory is so far away;
as I kneel here talking to the Lord,
This is kinda what I say:

‘I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD,
HOW HAPPY I’VE BEEN,
SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHERS FRIENDSHIP AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN.
DON’T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY,
BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY.
SO, JESUS, THIS IS JIM CHECKING IN TODAY.’

The minister feeling foolish,
told Jim, that was fine.
He told the man he was welcome
To come and pray just anytime

Time to go, Jim smiled, said ‘Thanks.’
He hurried to the door.
The minister knelt at the altar,
he’d never done it before.

His cold heart melted, warmed with love,
and met with Jesus there.
As the tears flowed, in his heart,
he repeated old Jim’s prayer:

‘I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD,
HOW HAPPY I’VE BEEN,
SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHERS FRIENDSHIP AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN.
I DON’T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY,
BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY.
SO, JESUS, THIS IS ME CHECKING IN TODAY.’

Past noon one day, the minister noticed
that old Jim hadn’t come.
As more days passed without Jim,
he began to worry some.

At the factory, he asked about him,
learning he was ill.
The hospital staff was worried,
But he’d given them a thrill.

The week that Jim was with them,
Brought changes in the ward.
His smiles, a joy contagious.
Changed people, were his reward.

The head nurse couldn’t understand
why Jim was so glad,
when no flowers, calls or cards came,
Not a visitor he had.

The minister stayed by his bed,
He voiced the nurse’s concern:
No friends came to show they cared.
He had nowhere to turn.

Looking surprised, old Jim spoke
up and with a winsome smile;
‘the nurse is wrong, she couldn’t know,
that he’s in here all the while

Every day at noon He’s here,
a dear friend of mine, you see,
He sits right down, takes my hand,
Leans over and says to me:

‘I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, JIM,
HOW HAPPY I HAVE BEEN,
SINCE WE FOUND THIS FRIENDSHIP,
AND I TOOK AWAY YOUR SIN.
ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR YOU PRAY,
I THINK ABOUT YOU EACH DAY,
AND SO JIM,
THIS IS JESUS CHECKING IN TODAY.’

About Faith

Faith means being sure of the things we hope for and knowing that something is real even if we do not see it . . . . It is by faith we understand that the whole world was made by God’s command so what we see was made by something that cannot be seen . . . . Without faith no one can please God. Anyone who comes to God must believe that He is real and that He rewards those who truly want to find Him. Hebrews 11:1, 3, & 6


The Good New show how God makes people right with Himself — that it begins and ends with faith. As the Scripture says, "But those who are right with God will live by trusting in Him." Romans 1:17


WE have troubles all around us, but we are not defeated. We do not know what to do , but we do not give up the hope of living. We are persecuted, but God does not leave us. We are hurt sometimes, but we are not destroyed . . . . So we do not give up. Our physical body is becoming older and weaker, but our spirit inside us is made new every day. We have small troubles for a while now, but they are helping us gain an eternal glory that is much greater than the troubles. We set our eyes not on what we see but on what we cannot see . . . .
II Corinthians 4:8 – 9, 16 – 18


Faith is the belief that God is real and that God is good . . . . It is a choice to believe that the one who made it all hasn’t left it all and that He still sends light into the shadows and responds to gestures of faith . . . .
Faith is the belief that God will do what is right.
God says that the more hopeless your circumstances, the more likely your salvation. The greater your cares, the more genuine your prayers. The darker the room, the greater the need for light.
God’s help is near and always available, but it is only given to those who seek it. Max Lucado — He Still Moves Stones


God never promises to remove us from our struggles. He does promise, however, to change the way we look at them. Max Lucado

The Guardian Angel Series – by Sigmund Brouwer – Entry #1

Angels never complain.
You humans, on the other hand, are so childlike that your constant whining to God often tempts me to roll my eyeballs in disgust. Yet I don’t. First , angels don’t even have eyeballs to roll. Second, rolling eyeballs is a silent way of complaining, and for those of you who weren’t paying attention, I’ve just made it clear that angels don’t complain.
Writing isn’t easy for many humans, from what I can tell. But let me stress that it seems infinitely slower and more cumbersome for an angel. (Cumbersome. Kum-burr-sum. If you watch too much television, you may have difficulty with the size of this word cumbersome word. Kum-burr-sum. It means bulky awkward to handle, a big load.)
See, if you ere another angel, we would just have a meeting of minds, so to speak. In an instant, you’d know everything I wanted you to know. Neither of us would have to say a single word, let alone write it out.
At this point, I expect you are curious about how this meeting of minds works between one angel and another.
Good! Curoisity is one of the nice childlike things about you humans. But don’t expect me to give you the answer. There are many questions that won’t get answered for you until you are on the other side of life. Deal with it!
If you continue with me , I promise to answer a lot of other questions. You will have to pay attention, though. Otherwise, don’t waste your time reading more. There’s always television. Or nose picking, which is at least useful and has the same entertainment value. Especially to angels, who may be invisible and watching when you least expect it.
Have I established, then, that it has taken a lot of effort for me to put this into your words and that you will get answers worth learning? Good! Show your gratitude and stay with me.
Even though I won’t promise a happy ending.
What? you say, "not fair?" Who says it’s supposed to be fair? When I’m sent from heaven as a guardian, I sure don’t get that promise. I’ve seen it end happy for the ones I’m sent to guard and I’ve seen it end sad.
That might sound mean and horrible, but it’s not.
Whatever happens to the people I’m watching over — happy or sad — works to the greater good of those who believe in our Father and His love. Think of His work as a beautiful paintion. When I’m stuck in a particular place and time on earth to watch over someone, I see only what you see: individual brushstrokes. The little bits and pieces that make up the painting. I trust all of those burshstrokes will make sense when our Father has finished the entire painting, though. You should too. Life will be easier on you that way.
As for a happy or not-so-happy ending for each person under my watch, learn and remember an important concept. Maybe the most important concept. Ready?
You humans are given the freedom to make choices.
Yes! Choices! You are responsible for what you do. Don’t blame other people. Especially don’t blame me or other angels.
Choices!!
Imagine you’re in a room with a screwdriver in your hand. You have a choice. Jam it into a nearby electrical outlet? Or not? You may think that’s an obviously easy choice. But in guarding different people through centuries of your human history, I’ve seen a lot of things that, in comparison, make jamming a screwdriver in an electrical outlet look like a smart thing to do.
AD. means Anno Domini. Latin for "the year of our Lord." At least you humans have had enough sense to keep track of time from the birth of Jesus, the Son of our Father.
The 1300′s were not pleasant, fleas, lice, no soap, no showers, no toothpaste. The humans in Europe had just spent centuries of short life spans and miserable living conditions because of all the knowledge that had been lost after the fall of the Roman Empire.

The Guardian Angel Series – by Sigmund Brouwer – Entry #3

How I know what our Holy Father wants me to do, is impossible to explain. The closest you would understand is a form of instinct, but even that is a bad explanation. All I can tell you is that at any given moment, I just know. Not even angels know what is in the mind of our Holy Father.
As for protecting people, angels have many different methods. You’d never suspect most of them as belonging to an angel; gust of wind, maybe a tree falling across a road to keep a driver from the next corner where a bridge is out. A barking dog that causes you to take a different path. That sort of thing.
If you want to read some classic examples, go to the Bible. I wish I could tell you I was one of the angels in the lion’s den with Daniel, but others were sent that time. Believe me, we all heard plenty about it from those angels later. You know, like sometimes when your friend gets back from a really fun vacation and goes on and on about all the details.
Here’s where you should probably learn more about what angels can and can’t do.
We can’t create. That’s something only our Father can do. Let me just say, if you could have been there at the beginning, the very beginning, you would be the biggest believer in the universe. Yes that beginning of time! Of the universe! Not that I was there. but the great thing about the spiritual world is that time and space don’t form a prison for us like they do for you. Believe me, you’ll find out someday, on the other side. By then, you’ll be glad you trusted in our Father.
As I was saying, since time and space don’t bind us, we angels have a good idea of what it was like at the beginning of creation. "Spectacular!" doesn’t do it justice. It’s just beyond comprehension. Then again, if you television watchers got off the couch and walked through the woods and took a close look at our Father’s handiwork every once in a while, you might get an inkling of how incredible it was.
What else can’t angels do?
Angels can’t change substances. Again, only our Father can do that. So don’t come to me and ask for that lump of lead to be changed into gold. I’m not a fairly godmother. And yes, I’ve had that request before.
Angels can’t alter the laws of nature. Again, only our Father can.
Same thing goes for miracles. Angels can’t perform them. Only our Father can.
Here’s something that might surprise you. Angels can’t see into your heart. After centuries and centuries of experience with you humans, however, we can make some pretty good guesses. Some of you wise guys might be saying, hey, no problem, any good doctor can get a good view of the human heart. But that’s not the heart I’m talking about — and you know it.
Angels can’t change your hearts either. Remember that thing called "choice?"
Anyway, that’s a lot of what we can’t do.
It’s good to keep all that in mind because the fallen angels can’t do any of it either. Fallen angels. That would be Satan and his gang. They can’t do any of our Father’s special stuff either. No creating, no changing of substances, no altering the laws of nature, and no searching or changing the hearts of people.
Why’s that important to remember?
Too many humans worry about demons because they believe demons have special power. Not so! Good thing, because I have plenty of stories about their bad intentions and how we’d been sent in by our Father to protect you against them. Nasty bunch, those guys! Of course, they’ve known for a long time that when they picked sides, they picked a loser — Satan himself! For eternity! That would make anyone bitter.
Here’s what’s really important to remember about the fallen angels; "Misery loves company!"
They want as many of you to lose your souls to the Evil One as possible. They cackle with hideous glee every time one of you dies before making a faith decision in our Father. It’s hard to decide what they like most — the horror that overwhelms you on the other side when you immediately comprehend what it will be like to spend eternity among them jor the shock when you discover there was moe to life on earth than life on earth.
For the most part, then, an angel’s job is to protect you long enough for you to make your decision. Do you want eternal light? Or eternal darkness? Yes, your earthly life has great value to our Father — that’s why He designed it for you to be able to enjoy so many things about it. But far more important to Him is the destination of your soul. What you do with your choices. And don’t fool yourself. All of you choose. Deciding not to choose is just like choosing against Him.

The Guardian Angel Series – by Sigmund Brouwer – Entry #4

The Holy Grail! The cup that Jesus used in His Last Supper! Something that people have searched for over the last twenty centuries!
Boring! Boring! Boring! Your human ideas of what’s important are often ridiculous.
I wish you could fully understand what truly matters to our Father. Your precious souls, not some cup. End of story!
But I’ll explain anyhow.
In light of all the centuries of human history, the life and death of an old beggar in the slums of some city might seem so unimportant that it would be beyond notice. Yet my greatest glory and honor to our Father has come on the occasions when He sent me to protect such beggars from untimely deaths. Even with people as poor and dirty and unnoticed as beggars, our Father wanted to give them one more chance to live long enough to choose faith in our Father and join us in the Eternal Home. Upon their arrival after they die, each of those beggars — unknown to you but infinitely treasured by our Father — received such a joyous welcome that is was as if there had been no other soul ever saved in such a way.
The Holy Grail is just a cup! After what I’ve just explained about human souls, do you still think our Father places any significance in lifeless lumps of metal?
Let me repeat: Our Father loves your souls. He wants to give you every chance possible to reach for Him. That’s all it takes — reach for Him. To more fully understand this concept, read the Gospels and how our Father saved your souls by letting His Son accept the punishment you deserve for turning away from Him.
There are llots of reason our Father sends us among you. I’ve been on countless missions over the centuries, and I have listened to other angels describe their missions to me.
Sometimes, yes, it’s immediately apparent why our Father wants us involved. Let me just say the World War II, as you’ve called it, kept many, many, many of us busy. For a while, Satan thought he had a good thing going with Hitler and the concentration camps. I shudder to think what would have happened had Hitler managed to put together a world empire. But enough of you made the right choices, and evil was defeated.
Other times a mission might seem totally unneeded.
Take a kid about nine hundred years ago. He grew up in an area of Europe that would later become Germany. He had ten brothers and sisters, and they were such a big brood that the mother, a widow, could hardly keep track of them. This kid had a thing about climbing trees. Big trees, little trees, old trees. Didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to climb. He always did it when his mother was busy with another brother or sister. Boy! did he keep me busy for a stretch of five years. Then one day, he got over the tree – climbing thing. It wasn’t because he’d fallen; no, I made sure he was safe each time. He just decided to quit. Only then was I called back to the glory of our Father’s presence.
Much as I wanted to ask our Father why I’d been put to all that work for a little tree – climber, I just waited, and waited. It’s not really "waiting," though, because time is much different on our side than yours. I saw first that the kid gave his soul to our Father about ten years after my mission was over. There was another big celebration when he stepped through death’s curtain and showed up among us. I’ve been very mature ever since — I haven’t once burst his bubble and explained it was me, and not his great athletic skill, that kept him safe during his tree – climbing years.
Still, I wondered if there had been more to my mission than that. Then three hundred and seventy-six years later, his great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandson was born. November of AD. 1483. The grandson didn’t seem like much to anyone around him. But I’d been sent to watch over him. The world would need him soon enough. Trust me, our Father has a great sense of humor. He knew all along I’d been wondering about that little tree – climber who was such a rascal, and I was about to get the answer. See, all those centuries later, in November of 1483, after the long line of families who were all off spring of that tree – climber, comes this boy named Martin. You may have heard of him. Last name was Luther. If that tree – climber nearly four hundred earlier had fallen and broken his neck, we wouldn’t have had one of the most important people in church history. He stood up for God and truth and turned people back to our Father.
Get the idea?!
Every mission is important. Just not always the way you might expect.

The Guardian Angel Series – by Sigmund Brouwer – Entry #5

L – O – V- E
My! Oh! My! Have I seen plenty of that over the centuries.
Angels are complete in the glory of the presence of our Father. We weren’t built like you. You know, where one and one equals one? Don’t pretend you don’t understand. I don’t mean the kissy – smoochy stuff. I mean the joining of the hearts of one man and one woman in a relationship blessed by our Father, suddenly becoming so complete as partners they are like one person.
We aren’t built like you, but we angels talk. We compare notes, this boy – girl stuff is fascinating.
On one hand, it loks so wonderful that if we weren’t complete in the glory of the presence of our Father, we’d understand what it means to yearn for something.
On the other hand, we’ve seen you mess up our Father’s incredible gift so many times that we’re very glad not to get mixed up in any of it.
LOVE: Joy and heartache; Elation and desolation; Hope and despair.
I think boy – girl love is one of the most complicated things, I’ve seen in the universe. Even more complicated than say, the dance of electrons and protons around the nucleus of the uranium atom, and believe me, that’s complicated! Only our Father could have created the basic forces of the universe to work in such harmony — electromagnetism, the strong and weak nuclear forces, and gravity. But I’m losing you here with quantum physics, aren’t I?? Sorry, on the other side, you’ll sense how our Father put it all together, and you’ll spend all of eternity marveling at it like we do.
My advice about LOVE?
Love is a fire. Under control — in the stove in a kitchen, for example — a fire’s warmth is wonderful. Out of control or abused, a small fire will become a disaster that burns your house down.
Aach!! Forget I just told you that! It’s true of course, but chances are you’re going to learn about it the hard way no matter what anyone tells you. Heartbreak is not easy. But heartbreak you can get over, even though at the time it seems impossible. It’s when you mess up physically before you’re in a marriage and before you’re ready to have your own children that love, or what you think is love, can really hurt you, and the people around you.
So if you are going to forget my advice, just like you’ll probably want to ignore the advice of anyone older than you, at least forget one other thing — most of what you see in movies, about love. Love is not about what a man and woman do with each other. It’s about what they do for each other!
That’s the way our Father intended His great gift for you.

The Guardian Angel Sreies – by Sigmund Brouwer – Entry #6

Certainly, if you look back in history at the devastation that sent millions upon millions to early deaths, the black plague that sweep the continent seems senseless at best.
But that’s only if you believe that death is the end and the worst thing that can happen to a human.
As an angel, I implore you to view your existence against eternity. Earthly death simply takes you into another and greater world than you can imagine.
It’s not the first time you’ve faced a change of this magnitude either.
You can’t remember, of course, your time in your mother’s womb, but it was safe and warm. All of your needs were filled. The darkness around you was comforting. Your mother’s movement soothed you, and you spent hours of each day in blissful sleep. When you woke, you would move, pushing your little legs and arms against the constriction that held you, totally unaware that your arms and legs were destined for much grander tasks.
Your first moments outside the safety of the womb. What a shock! What a strange and new universe! Instead of warm fluid surrounding you, there was the harshness of cold air. Strange noises. Bright lights that made no sense. And when the fluid drained from your lungs, you were forced into a totally new existence where you had to draw your own oxygen. You cried and kicked and wanted nothing more than the safety of the only world you had known, the place where you were bound so tightly that you couldn’t even extend your arms or legs.
Yet within hours, you understood that the womb had been a prison. And as you grew and explored more of the world, you would never for a moment trade your freedom to be bound like that again.
On our side, in the presence of our Father and among those of you whose earthly faith in Him gave eternal life in His presence too, we all understand that the new freedom you gained by leaving your mother’s womb is infinitely less than the freedom our Father offers to all humans after death.
When we are sent to watch over you, not a single angel spends an anxious moment thinking about whether you will die. Because we know it is inevitable that you are going to die. Our concern is whether you are prepared for eternity before it happens.