please read for Inspiration

[stud0134]

LOL funny I wont tell LOL

[stud0134]

From time to time I travel to town from my new found country home.

On this particular Saturday it was Adam's turn to accompany dad on the forty-five minute drive -- a coveted pleasure. As we left he promised his two brothers, Tyler and Brandon, he would return with a bounty of candy they all would share.

After parking the truck I woke Adam telling him we had arrived. His sleepy brown eyes opened peering out the window. "Can we get candy, daddy?" "Yes, honey. We will get you candy. We need to walk down the street."

Adam, 7, is a curious boy who never lacks for questions. As we walked, he asked about the grand limestone church to our left. "What is that, daddy?" "It's a church, honey. That's the house of God. People go there to pray," I say, trying to avoid a lengthy religious question and answer session -- it didn't work.

"What do they pray for?" "Well, they ask Gods' forgiveness for sins and ask God to help people who are less fortunate. "What is less fortunate?" "A person who is less fortunate is someone who may not have a home, food, love or a job -- not being fortunate can mean many things, Adam."

"How does God help them? Does he give them food?" "I guess he could give them food but God tends to use other people to help hungry people. God once said, 'What you do for the least of them, you do for me.'" "What does that mean, daddy?"

"It means that when you help the poorest of people, you are actually helping God. Do you understand?" "Yes. Can we get candy now?" "Okay, honey. Just a few more blocks."

Adam, like his brothers, has a profound fondness of candy. I am sure that if Adam knew there was a candy treat on the other side of a mountain he would move the entire mountain, stone by stone, to retrieve the treat.

We walked another two blocks toward the drug store. Adam had fallen silent. I glanced at him as we walked -- his stare falling on something further down the street.

As we crossed to the next block I discovered the source of Adam's attention. He was looking at an old man begging by the store entrance. His gray sweater had numerous holes and pulls exposing a stained T-shirt. He sat with his back to the wall, his hands cupped around an empty hat. As we passed entering the store, Adam briefly stared.

"Can I have my dollar, daddy?" I pulled a dollar from my pocket handing it to Adam. "Thank you, daddy." Adam raced toward a barrel of suckers. He stared wide-eyed, gently touching the packaged treasures with a reverence only a child can harbor. His little hands trembled with excitement.

I kept Adam in sight as I picked up the few items I needed. We converged on the cashier at the same time. Adam placed his suckers on the counter. "That will be a dollar fifteen," said the clerk. Adam placed his dollar on the counter. "You need fifteen more cents." Adam looked to me. "Dad, do you have fifteen more cents?" I nodded yes.

We left the store and walked the few feet to the corner. While waiting for the light, I felt Adam gently slip his hand from mine. I turned watching him as he walked back to the beggar extending his priceless treasure.

"This is from God," Adam said softly.

The old man looked up at Adam. Through gray tired eyes he seemed to smile for an instant. He said nothing as Adam passed the suckers to his cupped shaking hands. Walking to Adam, I picked him up then paused. The beggar looked into Adam's eyes saying, "Thank you, Lord." "You're welcome," replied Adam.

I hugged Adam saying, "Daddy is very proud of you Adam. That was very thoughtful."

"It certainly was," confirmed a female voice to my right. I turned and watched a middle-aged woman place five dollars in the man's hat. "May I?" she asked as she leaned over to kiss Adam's cheek. I nodded and smiled -- Adam giggled.

"I did all right in my life. It could have been different." A dapper elderly man had knelt beside the beggar placing his hand on a shoulder of the tattered gray sweater. He set five dollars along with a business card in the old hat. "If you are able to work, call my number." The stylish gentleman struggled to stand as the middle-aged female helped him to his feet. "Thank you madam... thank you both," said the beggar faintly, his gray eyes welling with tears of gratitude.

We crossed with the others when the light changed.

"Look, daddy." Adam was looking over my shoulder to the man on the sidewalk. A small group of people had gathered around him placing money in his hat. I couldn't help but recall a thought from the Bible: A child shall lead them.

"Adam? You gave away your treats. What are we going to do now?" His lip started to quiver realizing he had nothing to share with his brothers. He buried his face in my neck. "I don't know," he said in a broken voice. "Well, perhaps I will buy you a cake. There will be lots to share."

He pushed away from my neck staring with brown, tear-filled eyes.

"Can we?" he asked, rubbing away the tears.

"Yes honey?"

[CAPTAINZING2000]

Chris

You're A Real Hard Act To Follow




Chris

[CAPTAINZING2000]

The Speeding Ticket

A speeding ticket? Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often?

When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand.

Bob? Bob from Church?

Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A Christian cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform.

"Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."

"Hello, Jack." No smile.

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."

"Yeah, I guess."

Bob seemed uncertain. Good. "I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit-just this once." Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct."

Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"

"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"

"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.

"Please, Jack, in the car."

Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dash board. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again.

A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.

"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.

Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:

"Dear Jack, Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it -- a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful. My son is all I have left.

"Bob"

Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he, too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.

Life is precious. Handle with care. This is an important message, please pass it along to your friends. Drive safely and carefully. Remember, cars are not the only thing recalled by their maker.

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell.

Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Funny how everyone wants to go to heaven provided they do not have to believe, think, say, or do anything the Bible says. Or is it scary?

Funny how someone can say "I believe in God" but still follow Satan (who, by the way, also "believes" in God).

Funny how you can send a thousand 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how the lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but the public discussion of Jesus is suppressed in the school and workplace.

FUNNY, ISN'T IT?

Funny how someone can be so fired up for Christ on Sunday, but be an invisible Christian the rest of the week.

Are you laughing?

Funny how when you go to forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it to them.

Funny how I can be more worried about what other people think of me than what God thinks of me.

[stud0134]

awsome story thanks CAPTAINZING2000 And just wanted you to know that you are such An Inspiration to me Thanks For passing that Inspiration on to me.

[CAPTAINZING2000]

Good People Like You Encourage Me To Be A Better Person



Chris

[stud0134]

There was once a little raggedy girl who lived with her widowed mother in what could only be charitably called a shack, just outside of town. She had few clothes to wear and those that she had were worn and patched in many places. She was clean and tidy. Her mother saw to that. But, her schoolmates could not see past her ragged clothing and they enjoyed making fun of her.

The little raggedy girl bore the insults of the other children in silence. One little boy, in particular, liked to make fun of the coat she always wore. Like the rest of her clothes, the coat had seen much better days. It was an ugly green color with pulls and rawls all over it. Some places had dark stains that no amount of washing could ever remove. But the coat was warm and it was the only one she had, so the little raggedy girl wore it to school every day.

Christmas was only a few days away now, and it was the last school day before the long vacation. On her way home that day, a wet snow was falling accompanied by a biting north wind. It was cold and miserable. She was happy about her old coat and the warmth it provided. Still she wanted to get home quickly to the warmth of her house.

Several blocks from the school she saw three boys standing on the sidewalk. They seemed to be arguing, but she couldn't make out the words -- just a lot of shouting. Then one of the boys suddenly snatched the coat off one the other boy's back. The boy tried to hold onto his coat, but the other one was stronger. As soon as the coat was free, he and his friend ran off with it, laughing. The boy started to run after them but, in his haste, slipped and fell in the slushy snow, landing heavily on the sidewalk. The raggedy girl ran up to the boy on the ground. She was startled to find it was the very same boy who had always taunted her about her coat at school.

"What happened?" she shouted.

The boy on the ground was crying, tears streaming down his face. "They took my coat," he wailed. "Now I'll freeze to death."

The little raggedy girl smiled. "I doubt that," she said, "but you're going to get mighty cold before you get home. You might catch a bad cold and that's no good around Christmas.

Then the boy felt a gentle, soft hand wiping the tears from his cheek. "Don't cry," she said. "Here. Wear my coat until you get home."

"But you'll freeze."

"No I won't," the little raggedy girl answered as she took off the coat. "Mama always makes me wear this old sweater under my coat for extra protection. It's not much, but it's better than nothing. Now put on my coat and we'll walk over to your house. If we hurry, it won't be so bad."

Ten minutes later, the pair arrived at the boy's house and stepped onto the porch. "Can you come in with me?" he asked. "You look positively frigid. Mom always has some hot chocolate and cookies for me when I get home on days like this."

The little raggedy girl felt funny going into such a fine house, but before she knew it the little boy had taken her by the hand and was dragging her through the front door. Inside, the house looked just as nice as it had from the outside. Just as the boy was taking off the ragged coat to return to the girl, his mother met them in the vestibule. "Who is this?" she asked. "And just where is your coat, young man?"

The little boy then told his mother all that had happened. When he finished, she smiled at the little raggedy girl and said, "You are welcome here. Come into the kitchen. I have some hot chocolate and fresh Toll House cookies. Eat with Mike and warm up before you go home. We'll worry about getting his coat back later."

The little raggedy girl had never tasted anything so good as the cookies and cocoa in her life. Her mother was far too poor to buy such luxuries. Just before she finished, the mother walked into the kitchen with a huge box wrapped in shiny red ribbon. She placed the box in front of the little raggedy girl. "Go on and open it, honey," she said. "It's for you."

The little raggedy girl opened the box. Her heart leaped into her throat. There, folded neatly inside, was a brand new coat. She looked up at the boy's mother. "Go on," the mother urged. "It's yours. Try it on. See if it fits."

The little raggedy girl took the coat from the box and held it out in front of her. It was beautiful -- bright red with a warm liner and a thick, soft fur hood. And there wasn't a spot on it. She had never seen anything so beautiful in all her life. She looked up at the boy's mother. She was smiling broadly. "I had bought that coat for my niece for Christmas, but I think you deserve it much more," she said.

Then the mother drove the little raggedy girl to her own front door. She thanked the woman, then ran into the house to show her Mama the new coat. After she had finished telling her story, she saw that her mother was crying. She put a small arm around her mother's thin shoulders.

"I thought you would be happy, Mama," she said softly. "But if you want, I'll take the coat back. See? I still have my old one."

The mother gathered her little daughter on her lap and hugged her. "I"m not unhappy, honey," she sniffed. "I'm overcome with joy. I knew that I would never be able to buy you a new coat for Christmas. Even used coats down at the mission cost too much for me. So I prayed to God that he would provide you with a new coat. And He did -- and a finer coat than I ever imagined."

The mother kissed her daughter on the cheek. The little girl could feel the warm wetness of her mother's tears against her dry, cool skin. "You know," the little ragged girl said as she hugged her mother, "I really am so very rich to have a mother like you."



"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."
(Romans 8:28 NIV)

THANKS CAPTAINZING2000 FOR THE WORDS OF INCOURAGEMENT.

[Time2Surrender]

[CAPTAINZING2000]

In A Second Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul, Rev. John R. Ramsey tells how in one church, a certain person provided him with a rose boutonniere for the lapel of his suit every Sunday. At first he really appreciated it but then it sort of became routine. Then one Sunday it became very special. As he was leaving the Sunday Service a young boy walked up to him and said, "Sir, what are you going to do with your flower?" At first the preacher didn't know what the boy was talking about. When it sank in, he pointed to the rose on his lapel and asked the boy, "Do you mean this?"

The boy said, "Yes, sir. If you're just going to throw it away, I would like it."

The preacher smiled and told him he could have the flower and then casually asked what he was going to do with it. The boy, who was probably no more than 10 years old, looked up at the preacher and said, "Sir, I'm going to give it to my granny. My mother and father divorced last year. I was living with my mother, but she married again, and wanted me to live with my father. I lived with him for a while, but he said I couldn't stay, so he sent me to live with my grandmother. She is so good to me. She cooks for me and takes care of me. She has been so good to me that I wanted to give her that pretty flower for loving me."

When the little boy finished, the preacher could hardly speak. His eyes filled with tears and he knew he had been touched by God. He reached up and unpinned the rose. With the flower in his hand, he looked at the boy and said, "Son, that is the nicest thing that I've ever heard but you can't have this flower because it's not enough. If you'll look in front of the pulpit, you'll see a big bouquet of flowers. Different families buy them for the Church each week. Please take those flowers to your granny because she deserves the very best."

Then the boy made one last statement which Rev. Ramsey said he will always treasure. The boy said, "What a wonderful day! I asked for one flower but got a beautiful bouquet."

That's the thankful spirit. That's the gratitude attitude. And it's that attitude that should guide our giving and our lives. Like that boy's granny, God has blessed us so much. God has been so good to us that giving shouldn't even be a question. It should just flow from us naturally.

[CAPTAINZING2000]

MY NAME IS EDITH BURNS. DO YOU BELIEVE IN EASTER?

Edith Burns was a wonderful Christian who lived in San Antonio, Texas. She was the patient of a doctor by the name of Will Phillips. Dr. Phillips was a gentle doctor who saw patients as people. His favorite patient was Edith Burns. One morning he went to his office with a heavy heart and it was because of Edith Burns. When he walked into that waiting room, there sat Edith with her big black Bible in her lap earnestly talking to a young mother sitting beside her. Edith Burns had a habit of introducing herself in this way: "Hello, my name is Edith Burns. Do you believe in Easter?" Then she would explain the meaning of Easter, and many times people would be saved.

Dr. Phillips walked into that office and there he saw the head nurse, Beverly. Beverly had first met Edith when she was taking her blood pressure. Edith began by saying, "My name is Edith Burns. Do you believe in Easter?"

Beverly said, "Why yes I do."

Edith said, "Well, what do you believe about Easter?"

Beverly said, "Well, it's all about egg hunts, going to church, and dressing up." Edith kept pressing her about the real meaning of Easter, and finally led her to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ. Dr. Phillips said, "Beverly, don't call Edith into the office quite yet. I believe there is another delivery taking place in the waiting room.

After being called back in the doctor's office, Edith sat down and when she took a look at the doctor she said, "Dr. Will, why are you so sad? Are you reading your Bible? Are you praying?" Dr. Phillips said gently, "Edith, I'm the doctor and you're the patient." With a heavy heart he said, "Your lab report came back and it says you have cancer, and Edith, you're not going to live very long." Edith said, "Why Will Phillips, shame on you. Why are you so sad? Do you think God makes mistakes? You have just told me I'm going to see my precious Lord Jesus, my husband, and my friends. You have just told me that I am going to celebrate Easter Forever, and here you are having difficulty giving me my ticket!" Dr. Phillips thought to himself, "What a magnificent woman this Edith Burns is!"

Edith continued coming to Dr. Phillips. Christmas came and the office was closed through January 3rd. On the day the office opened, Edith did not show up. Later that afternoon, Edith called Dr. Phillips and said she would have to be moving her story to the hospital and said, "Will, I'm very near home, so would you make sure that they put women in here next to me in my room who need to know about Easter." Well, they did just that and women began to come in and share that room with Edith. Many women were saved.

Everybody on that floor from staff to patients were so excited about Edith, that they started calling her Edith Easter; that is everyone except Phyllis Cross, the head nurse. Phyllis made it plain that she wanted nothing to do with Edith because she was a "religious nut". She had been a nurse in an army hospital. She had seen it all and heard it all. She was the original G.I. Jane. She had been married three times, she was hard, cold, and did everything by the book. One morning the two nurses who were to attend to Edith were sick. Edith had the flu and Phyllis Cross had to go in and give her a shot. When she walked in, Edith had a big smile on her face and said, "Phyllis, God loves you and I love you, and I have been praying for you." Phyllis Cross said, "Well, you can quit praying for me, it won't work I'm not interested." Edith said, "Well, I will pray and I have asked God not to let me go home until you come into the family." Phyllis Cross said, "Then you will never die because that will never happen," and curtly walked out of the room.

Every day Phyllis Cross would walk into the room and Edith would say, "God loves you Phyllis and I love you, and I'm praying for you." One day Phyllis Cross said she was literally drawn to Edith's room like a magnet would draw iron. She sat down on the bed and Edith said, "I'm so glad you have come, because God told me that today is your special day." Phyllis Cross said, "Edith, you have asked everybody here the question, 'Do you believe in Easter?' but you have never asked me." Edith said, "Phyllis, I wanted to many times, but God told me to wait until you asked, and now that you have asked.."

Edith Burns took her Bible and shared with Phyllis Cross the Easter Story of the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Edith said, "Phyllis, do you believe in Easter? Do you believe that Jesus Christ is alive and that He wants to live in your heart?" Phyllis Cross said, "Oh I want to believe that with all of my heart, and I do want Jesus in my life." Right there, Phyllis Cross prayed and invited Jesus Christ into her heart. For the first time Phyllis Cross did not walk out of a hospital room, she was carried out on the wings of angels. Two days later, Phyllis Cross came in and Edith said, "Do you know what day it is?" Phyllis Cross said, "Why Edith, it's Good Friday." Edith said, "Oh, no, for you every day is Easter. Happy Easter Phyllis!"

Two days later, on Easter Sunday, Phyllis Cross came into work, did some of her duties and then went down to the flower shop and got some Easter lilies because she wanted to go up to see Edith and give her some Easter lilies and wish her a Happy Easter. When she walked into Edith's room, Edith was in bed. That big black Bible was on her lap. Her hands were in that Bible. There was a sweet smile on her face. When Phyllis Cross went to pick up Edith's hand, she realized that Edith was dead. Edith's left hand was on John 14: "In my Father's house are many mansions. I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also." Her right hand was on Revelation 21:4, " And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes, there shall be no more death nor sorrow, nor crying; and there shall be no more pain, for the former things have passed away." Phyllis Cross took one look at that dead body, and then lifted her face toward heaven, and with tears streaming down here cheeks, said, "Happy Easter, Edith - Happy Easter!" Phyllis Cross left Edith's body, walked out of the room, and over to a table where two student nurses were sitting. She said, "My name is Phyllis Cross. Do you believe in Easter?"

[CAPTAINZING2000]

THE HELPING TOUCH OF THE MASTER

Wishing to encourage her young son's progress on the piano, a mother took him to a Paderewski concert. After they were seated, the mother spotted an old friend in the audience and walked down the aisle to greet her.

Seizing the opportunity to explore the wonders of the concert hall, the little boy rose and eventually explored his way through a door marked "NO ADMITTANCE." When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing.

Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage. In horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."

At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear, "Don't quit. Keep playing." Then leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obligato. Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience. The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played. Only the classic "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star".

Perhaps that's the way it is with God. What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy. We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful, flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.

Next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear, "Don't quit. Keep playing." May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.

Remember, God doesn't seem to call the equipped; rather, He equips the 'called'. Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you acquire. So touch someone today.

[CAPTAINZING2000]

A Mother's story to touch your heart.
My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and told to return home and give all to "dad."

That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son.

The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed. Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pine wood derby car. A little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom). Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his "Blue Lightning," the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue pine wood derby in his hand and pride in his heart we headed to the big race. Once there my little one's pride turned to humility. Gilbert's car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert's, lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility, Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by their side, Gilbert had "mom."

As the race began it was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing as long as you were the winner. One by one the cars raced down the finely sanded ramp. Finally it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car there. As the last race was about to begin, my wide eyed, shy, eight year old ask if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray.

The race stopped.

Gilbert hit his knees clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face and announced, 'Okay, I am ready."

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy's car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank you" as the crowd roared in approval. The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with microphone in hand and asked the obvious question, "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?" To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I don't cry when I lose."

Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert didn't ask God to win the race, he didn't ask God to fix the out come. Gilbert asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't cry out to God, "No fair, they had a fathers help." No, he went to his Father for strength.

Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God's strength to get through the struggle. "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength." Philippians 4:13.

Gilbert's simple prayer spoke volumes to those present that night. He never doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He didn't pray to win, thus hurt someone else, he prayed that God supply the grace to lose with dignity. Gilbert, by his stopping the race to speak to his Father also showed the crowd that he wasn't there without a "dad," but His Father was most definitely there with him. Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side.


~ Author Unknown ~

[CAPTAINZING2000]

i HOPE THIS LINK OPENS UP nICE LITTLE THING ABOUT NATURE

http://inspirationsfortoday.com/pinetrees.html

CHRIS

[CAPTAINZING2000]

DADDY'S EMPTY CHAIR ~


A man's daughter had asked the local minister to come and pray with her
Father. When the minister arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his
head propped up on two pillows. An empty chair sat beside his bed.
The minister assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I
guess you were expecting me," he said. "No, who are you?" said the father.
The minister told him his name and then remarked, "I saw the empty chair and
I figured you knew I was going to show up," "Oh yeah, the chair," said the
bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"

Puzzled, the minister shut the door. "I have never told anyone this, not even my
daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At
church I used to hear the Pastor talk about prayer, but it went right over my head."

"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day
four years ago, my best friend said to me, "Johnny, prayer is just a simple
matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here is what I suggest."
"Sit down in a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see
Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I will be with you
always.' Then just speak to him in the same way you're doing with me right
now."

"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours
every day. I'm careful though; if my daughter saw me talking to an empty
chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny
farm."

The minister was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old man to
continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, anointed him with oil, and
returned to the church.

Two nights later the daughter called to tell the minister that her daddy had
died that afternoon. "Did he die in peace?" he asked. "Yes, when I left the house
about two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me he loved me and
kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found
him dead. But there was something strange about his death. Apparently,
just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on the chair beside
the bed. What do you make of that?"

The minister wiped a tear from his eye and said, "I wish we could all go like that."

[CAPTAINZING2000]

Holy Alphabet

Although things are not perfect
Because of trial or pain
Continue in thanksgiving
Do not begin to blame
Even when the times are hard
Fierce winds are bound to blow
God is forever able
Hold on to what you know
Imagine life without His love
Joy would cease to be
Keep thanking Him for all the things
Love imparts to thee
Move out of "Camp Complaining"
No weapon that is known
On earth can yield the power
Praise can do alone
Quit looking at the future
Redeem the time at hand
Start every day with worship
To "thank" is a command
Until we see Him coming
Victorious in the sky
We'll run the race with gratitude
Xalting God most high
Yes, there'll be good times and yes some will be bad, but...
Zion waits in glory...where none are ever sad

[CAPTAINZING2000]

"I Shall Not Want"



In his beautiful book, "I Shall Not Want," Robert Ketchum tells of a Sunday
School teacher who asked her group of children if anyone could quote the
entire 23rd Psalm. A golden-haired, four-and-a-half-year-old girl was
among those who raised their hands. A bit skeptical, the teacher asked if she
could really quote the entire psalm. The little girl came to the front of
the room, faced the class, made a perky little bow, and said,

"The Lord is my shepherd, that's all I want."

She bowed again and went and sat down.

That may well be the greatest interpretation of the 23rd Psalm ever heard.

[CAPTAINZING2000]

Speaking With
God











The man whispered, "God, speak to me"
And a meadowlark sang.
But the man did not hear.


So the man yelled "God, speak to me"
And the thunder & lightning rolled across the sky.
But the man did not listen.


The man looke