Monday, November 26, 2007

A Smile


She smiled at a sorrowful stranger.
The smile seemed to make him feel better.
He remembered a past kindness of a friend
And wrote him a thank you letter.

The friend was so pleased with the thank you
That he left a large tip after lunch.
The waitress, surprised by the size of the tip,
Bet the whole thing on a hunch.

The next day she picked up her winnings,
And gave part to a man on the street.
The man on the street was grateful;
For two days he’d had nothing to eat.

After he finished his dinner,
He left for his small dingy room.
(He didn’t know at that moment
that he might be facing his doom.)

On the way he picked up a shivering puppy
And took him home to get warm.
The puppy was very grateful
To be in out of the storm.

That night the house caught on fire.
The puppy barked the alarm.
He barked till he woke the whole household
And saved everybody from harm.

One of the boys that he rescued
Grew up to be President.
All this because of a simple smile
That hadn’t cost a cent.

Living One Day At A Time


Our lives are made up of a million moments,
spent in a million different ways.
Some are spent searching for love, peace, and harmony.
Others are spent surviving day by day.

But there is no greater moment than when we find that life,
with all it’s joys and sorrows,
is meant to be lived one day at a time.
It’s in this knowledge that we discover the most wonderful truth of all.

Whether we live in a forty-room mansion,
surrounded by servants and wealth,
or find it a struggle to manage the rent month to month,
we have it within our power to be fully satisfied and live a life with true meaning.

One day at a time - we have the ability,
through cherishing each moment and rejoicing in each dream.
We can experience each day anew, and with this fresh start we have
what it takes to make all our dreams come true.

Each day is new, and living one day at a time
enables us to truly enjoy life and live it to the fullest.

Taken from Inspirational Journal

Sunday, November 25, 2007

His Song For You


Sing the song He gives you,

Don't try to sing another's song;
If you sing the song He gives you
Your life will not go wrong.

The song the Father gives you
Was written just for you;
And no one else can sing it
Quite the way you do.

So sing the song He gives you,
Sing it loud and clear;
For the song your Father gives you
Is the one He loves to hear.

Copyright ©1997 by Jan McIntosh

We have different gifts, according to the grace given us.
If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith.
If it is serving, let him serve;
if it is teaching, let him teach;
if it is encouraging, let him encourage;
if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously;
if it is leadership, let him govern diligently;
if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.
Romans 12:6-8

The Message Of Christmas

See the star shine in the sky,
O'er the Holy infant bright;
See the gifts the wise men bring
As they worship Christ, the King.


Grace to man this day abounds;

God redeeming sinful man,
According to His gracious plan.
See the message painted here,

The star still shines, so bright and clear;
God came down to dwell on earth
To offer man a second birth.
Hear the angels as they sing,

Glory to the newborn King;
Peace on earth, goodwill toward men,
Look to Christ and live again.

Copyright ©1997 by Jan McIntosh

For there is born to you this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.
(Luke 2:11)

That Day


He was despised, the object of scorn,
Upon His brow a crown of thorns.
Upon His back some lashes scarred;
Though sinless and pure His judgement was hard.


Up Calvary's Hill He made His way;
For sins of ours He'd pay that day.
The cross was heavy, perhaps He fell;
Simon did they then compel
To drag it to Golgotha's height
As scoffers gathered to mock His plight.
Upon that hideous rocky hill
The Prince of Peace that day they'd kill;
As in a scene of suffering gory
Played out the earth's most shameful story.

I know not who reviled Him worst;
Evil men or Hades' cursed.
The Lord they mocked. . .ah, senseless loss,
And stretched Him on the wooden cross.
Yet though loss, it was a gain;
For by it cleansed each sinner's stain.

Embodiment of heaven's love;
With cruel blows the nails they shoved
Into His palms, His feet, and then
The cross was raised by angry men
While at its base amidst sinners' jeers;
Soldiers for His clothes cast lots
And all ignored His mother's tears.

The angels, too, my guess is this;
They sorrowed much and ached inside
That while the serpent coiled and hissed
Their powers were locked, their hands were tied.
Mighty Gabriel, Michael too
Were they not sickened by the view
Who'd often had at their command
Vast legions of the angel band?
And yet they awaited word from God
Ere setting foot upon the sod
While silence reigned and heaven wept
And galaxies untended leapt
To wander aimless off their course
Still spinning outwards from their Source.

( I don't really know, but this may have been.)

Or then again, perhaps a single sentinel looked down,
A stalwart one with anxious frown
Reporting on the order of things
So others could be spared the sight
With faces hidden beneath their wings.

He suffered there in agony,
Alone but for a faithful few;
His mother, yes, and Magdalene
And John was there and maybe—who?
You say you'd not have left Him there
That you with others well compare?
Didn't ever yet each one suppose
Who knew for sure that He arose
That yes they'd be the one who'd stay
Beneath the cross and faithful pray!

( May it be so! )

The Lord forgave that guilty crew
And ever loving, ever true
Did even then not fail to yield
Himself for others and appealed,

"Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

And this for them who'd offered Him
A vinegared sponge upon a reed
To slake His thirst—malicious deed!
And above His head they'd hung a sign,
"This Is The King Of The Jews". . .Oh, mockery fine.

( But if they only knew—heaven help them, it was true! )

Then nature's order was arrested
As earth and sky in horror protested.
A somber hush fell over the vale,
The sun itself grew very pale.
Hurrying in disconsolate gloom
To hide itself behind the moon,
Unwilling more to light the scene
Of evil men's disastrous scheme
Thus shrouding earth with darkened tent
As quaked the ground and veil was rent.
The shock in His tormenters' eyes
As long dead saints began to rise!
The city's streets it's said they walked
Though unrecorded if they talked.

Amid this tumult at heaven's altar
The Lord's last breath did finally falter;
Into His Father's hands did He
Commend His soul with final plea.
Then at last He bowed His head;
The holy Prince of Peace was dead
And in that pivot point of time
Met ancient curse with grace sublime.

In vast surprise and growing dread
The centurion watching over Him said,

"Truly this man was the Son of God."

In Adam was the race defiled,
Through Jesus was it reconciled.
And so man's debt for sin was paid
And in the tomb Him gently laid.
Were that the end of this great story,
There would be no final glory
For Satan must have danced with glee,
Crowing that he'd ever be free
To torment man and jeer at God
Whose Son he'd placed beneath the sod.
But on the third day He arose
In victory over heaven's foes!
The meaning of that empty tomb—
That man through Christ escaped his doom.
Death itself indeed was dead
And nevermore man's lot to dread.

Come now, redeemed ones of the King,
Arise! Rejoice!—His praises sing!


( Helen Hamrick )

Salvation

I am one of Adam's race
whose nature betrays the truth
like all those who have come before
I'm stained with the mark of sin
for in my mind I'll have my own way
not heeding the call of my heart
for my flesh cries aloud, "Give, Give"
and I as a slave obey.

Justified, justified, I cry aloud
yet God's hand presses down
'til choices made exact the toll
of conscience seared and dead.
No right have I to heavens realm
where life and love abound
for all fall short, all have sinned
I await the penalty due.

Once in time His grace appeared
so very long ago
Bethlehem's child was born that day
to pay the price foretold
and not for His but ours it's said
upon death's cross He hung.
With final breathe and blood outpoured
He cried, "dear Abba, 'tis done".

It was not long He stayed below
for Father's love remembered
was not for His but others life
the ransom price was paid.
With but a touch, embued new life
and raised him from the dead
new Adam, new race, new covenant,
for all who'd but believe.

For me and you it has been done
To give this gift so vital
immortal life, eternal love,
a way through heaven's portal.
With heart belief comes righteousness
salvation with mouth is made
proclaiming truth with heartfelt faith
newness of life begins.

No more the Jew nor gentile be
distinction can't be found
for now the time for all to make
decision, loss or gain.
The cross of Christ divides in two
the mass of people here
no more shall I be put to shame
his cross of love I'll bear.

Not by works, nor by law
but mercy couched in grace
believe He is the Son of God
who paid the debt of old.
Anointed one, Lord of life
come to me this day
I humbly bow my knee to you
as life begins anew.

Author: Joseph (nuB1) Raymond

About The Cross


They gathered there about the cross

To see Him crucified.
Some cheered and taunted gleefully,
While others wept and cried.


About the cross emotions stirred
In those who came to see;
While some reviled a man that day,
Others believed in His Deity.


About the cross we all must come
To someday make a stand.
Do you see your Savior hanging there,
Or just an ordinary man?


Copyright ©1994 by Jan McIntosh


And it shall come to pass that whoever calls

on the name of the Lord shall be saved.
(Acts 2:21)

My Easter Is Coming

by R. Jaudon Berry

When my heart cries out,
"I'm alone!"
On my cross of despair
I look at the cross to my left
And Jesus is there.

Since Friday He has been
Quietly sharing my pain,
And when I listen
I hear Him say,
"Lo, I am with you ... always."

When pain comes again,
And does not go,
It's easier now
Because I know

That my Easter, too
Will one day come ...
And my Saviour and I
Will truly be one.

Eloi Eloi Lama Sabachthani*

by Keith Clayton, Jr. (1968 - 1998)

* A cry uttered by Jesus Christ while dying on the cross, preserved in the original Aramaic: "My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?"

Father, now the sun is risen,
I thank Thee for Thy silent strength
Given me in my hour of despair--
When the darkness seemed to smother,
And the tears i selfishly shed
For my own pain, and trivial troubles
Shut out the light, and I rendered myself alone.

Father, now Thy Son is risen,
I thank Thee for allowing One
So much greater than I
Thine Only Begotten,
Flesh of Thy flesh, to complete a task so
Wonderful and terrible
By leaving Him necessarily alone.

Father, in the garden green of Olivet,

In the still and solitude
The Creator of everything offered up all He had,
And submitted Himself to all the vengeance of Hell;
And in His hour of need,
The Friend of the friendless was forsaken,
Forgotten, for what?

Although the spirit was willing the flesh indeed was weak;

And they slumbered, leaving Him,
The Balm of mortal pain, to suffer, alone. In the beauty of that desert place,
The Savior of mankind faced all the ugliness

His charges could offer:

The pain, the hate,
The sin, the sorrow,
The waste, the wickedness,
The pride, the poverty,
The deceit, the ignorance,
The doubt, the fear,
The betrayal

--And even the loneliness-- alone.
As His immortal, righteous blood

Was spilled, like sweat from every pore
And fell to the thirsty earth below, i cannot hide
My honor and my awe at His great love for me;
Neither can I hide my shame, self-reproach and regret.
For how many of those precious drops am I responsible for?
--As He suffered the bitter cup, alone.

The longest night the world will ever know,
The solstice of eternity, fell on Emmanuel
And by the light of torches the Light of the world,
The very God of Love, was betrayed by a kiss,
Enslaved by strangers, rejected by His own,
Denied by those who knew Him best,
And led away in chains alone.

How it must have hurt Thee to witness the sufferings

Of Thy Beloved inflicted by Thine other children--
Those whom He had come to save;
To steadfastly persevere, and answer not a word,
Amidst the jeers, the blows, the spit and scorn;
To see His perfect body torn, His perfect soul rent in anguish,

Staggering and fainting beneath the evil and imperfection

Of all mortality collectively alone. And Thou, beyond the grasp of human pain
Did surely mourn at the mocking of His misery
By so many witnesses and beneficiaries of His
Miracles and ministry--

Those who knew better; who unworthily and ungratefully

Bore Thy birthright;
Those with whom Thou had cut they covenant
Now cut the flesh of Thy Son deliberately.
And in the crowded mob He wept alone.

Down the winding passages of The City of Peace,

Stumbled the Prince of Peace.
Plaited thorns adorned His crown;
Stripped of all but His Mantle of Duty;

How it must have burdened Thee

To see Thine Own, Who in innocence
Did glorify Thy name, bearing a scapegoat's load--
The weight thereof not unfamiliar to Thee,
Which could so mercifully have been loosed by Thy Omnipotence;
Yet in the name of mercy Didst Thou allow

This charade of justice to continue.

At a crossroads He was lifted up upon the cruel cross.
And in His torment, when He needed Thee most,
Thou left Him unwillingly alone.

Father, in the vastness of Thy creations,
was there any place large enough to contain the immensity
Of Thy sorrow?
Was there any place small enough and far enough away
To hide from the pleas and cries of Thy suffering Son?
Until the moment He pronounced "It is finished."
Triumphing, at last alone.

In olden times, the Scriptures say Thou wert a jealous God described;
I think I know now why--
Jealous lest man ever slight, Forget,
Or with anything replace
The memory of the Sacrifice Made by Thy Son
Alone.

O Father, i thank Thee
For sacrificing Thy Fatherhood for Thy
Godhood, by giving us Thy Son
To pay the ransom we could not.
And by so doing, Thy righteous heart was broken also--
For what Father could bear to see
His helpless child suffer and not rush to his aid?

--Instead, to leave him intentionally alone. O Father, i thank Thee

That through the tears that fell from His eyes
And from Thine, that my tears may be dried
And my eyes opened to the Hope of my Salvation,
And the reassurance of my eternal worth

--In spite of myself--

That my meager life was worth dying for.
And He died for me, and because of me,
That I might live for Him, in all my days serving Him
As tool and ambassador of the love He had for us;
The love that gave purpose to His life and life to His purpose.
Father, I acknowledge my hungering need
To bear and be borne by the Unconditional Love of Christ,
Who unselfishly serves all those who but come unto Him.
As Counselor, Advocate and Friend;
That neither I, or any of us
Need ever be alone.

Father, let me let Him in!
Let His Light fill the recesses of my soul,
That darkness and evil find no place.
Let me always make room
For Him for Whom the inn was full.

Let your Spirit make me wise enough

To seek the King of Kings as the Magi did;
And as wise men still and always do.
Let me ever joy in that same glory
That was witnessed to lowly shepherds long ago.
Praise be to the Father and the Son!
The glory be to Him and Thee alone.

Please bless me, Dear Father,
That I may live my days in remembrance
Of Him Whose hands first sculpted me in clay.
Whose hands now rest in Thine;

Those hands Thou once suffered to be pierced for my sake.

Father, wouldst Thou bless me, that as He bore my burdens,
I may lift all those around me with whom I share this
Borrowed existence--
For Thy sacrifice, and His, was not for me alone.

And in His name may I heal the poor in Spirit,
Feed those en hungered of body or soul;
Build up where others tear down;
Make Peace
Spread Love;
Share His Hope;
That as I represent Him
In my small corner of the world,
No one I meet will ever be in need,
In doubt, or alone.

Time


I laughed when I was twenty,
My life was froth so bright;
Time was mine for living,
For dancing in the light.

I worked when I was thirty,
So much to do and buy;
I had no time for worry
Nor duty to catch my eye.

I hurried, though, at forty,
My mark I sought to place
In prominent positions
And every lofty trace. Success!

I thought at fifty;
I've little more to want.
I scarcely could imagine
How much my boast would haunt.

The day that I turned sixty,
I noticed something strange;
My aches and pains were telling
Of time and loss and change.

My path stretched far behind me,
Ahead was a tapering strand;
And when I looked around me,
My name but written in sand.

At last I understood that life
By precious moments is tracked;
And hurtles on relentlessly
And cannot be turned back.

How many times I couldn't count
I'd said, dear Lord don't worry;
I know you have some work for me,
A moment more, then I'll hurry.

All those careless months and years
Had very little worth
While zealously I sought to find
The perfect life on earth.

As panic overcame me,
I cast about in vain
For reasons I could beg Him
To write my name again.

I fell upon my knees there
And sought His loving grace;
Entreating Him with promises,
Turn back to me His face.

And then He showed me sadly
Things He'd planned for me to do;
And all the years he'd given me
So I could see them through.

Hot tears of shame flowed down
My cheeks as then as last I knew,
I should have often inquired of Him
what plans for me He drew.

The acts of kindness, faith and love
He showed me never were done;
Instead I'd lived my life for me
And from His will I'd run.

The strangers who'd brushed by me,
Alone and sick and scared;
I should have told about Him,
Their burdens gladly shared.

I wept for all those wasted years
And in a dream so sweet;
I dreamed somehow I got them back
And laid them at His feet.

But ah, those years are gone for good
And won't again be chartered;
For sorrow's tears from wiser eyes
Cannot for time be bartered.

Yet hope springs up—all isn't lost!
His grace unbounded, free;
And Majesty with love unplumbed
Still welcome even me.

Though service to my Lord
And King abbreviated be;
Forgiven much and loving much,
I face eternity.

Forgiveness


Forgiveness is letting go of the pain
and accepting what has happened,
because it will not change.


Forgiveness is dismissing the blame.
Choices were made that caused the hurt;
we each could have chosen differently,
but we didn't.


Forgiveness is looking at the pain,
learning the lessons it has produced,
what we have learned.


Forgiveness allows us to move on
towards a better understanding of universal love
and our true purpose.


Forgiveness is knowing that love
is the answer to all questions, and that we all
are in some way connected.


Forgiveness is starting over
with the knowledge
that we have gained.
I forgive you, and I forgive myself.
I hope you can do the same.


-Poem by Judith Mammay

Gardening God's Way

Plant three rows of peas:
Peace of mind
Peace of heart
Peace of soul

Plant four rows of squash:
Squash gossip
Squash indifference
Squash grumbling
Squash selfishness

Plant four rows of lettuce:
Lettuce be faithful
Lettuce be kind
Lettuce be obedient
Lettuce really love one another

No garden should be without turnips:
Turnip for meetings
Turnip for service
Turnip to help one another

Water freely with patience and cultivate love

There is much fruit for your garden
Because you reap what you sow.

To conclude our garden
We must have thyme:
Thyme for God
Thyme for study
Thyme for prayer
Thyme for each other
Thyme for friends

Author Unknown

Tell The Children


Do you want to make a difference

In generations yet to come?

Then invest your time in children,

And love His little ones.


It's possible to change the world

With just a few small acts of grace;

Tell the children Jesus loves them

And let them see it in your face.


Some small one is hurting

And may only learn through you

That Jesus loves the children,

And cares about them too.


If you would change the future

And leave the world a better place,

Tell the children Jesus loves them

And let them see it in your face.


Copyright ©1996 by Jan McIntosh


Tell it to your children,
And let your children tell it to their children,
And their children to the next generation.

Joel 1:3

A Beautiful Symphony


A musician needs all the keys

To play a symphony;
If he only used the white ones,
What beauty would there be?


The black keys make the music
Melodic to the ear;
If the pianist never used them,
What a different song we'd hear.


And just like that piano,
So it is with life;
It takes both light and dark to make
The music flow just right.


God uses trials and sorrows
Like the pianist uses keys;
He combines the light and dark to make
Life's music sound so sweet.


The song of life sounds better
When He uses all the keys;
For then He can turn a simple tune
Into a beautiful symphony.


Copyright ©1995 by Jan McIntosh

(originally titled "Life's Music)

Life - Only Once


Life only once we can live it
Oh! what a great solemn thought;
Soon will our journey be over.
Soon will the battle be fought.


Oh, what shall it profit
Riches and pleasures to gain?
If your own soul is the forfeit,
Shall it not all be in vain?


Life, as the flowers that are blooming,
Withers and passes away;
All its great glory is fleeting--
Only the joy of a day.


If you are heavily laden,
Tired of a life that is vain,
Jesus has promised to save you,
If you will yield to His claim.


Will you now choose to obey Him,
Yielding yourself to His call?
This is the choice that will save you,
Making Him Lord of your all.


Oh, what shall it profit
Riches and pleasures to gain?
If your own soul is the forfeit,
Shall it not all be in vain?


Taken from an old hymn book titled: HYMNS: OLD AND NEW,
R. L. Allan & Sons, 141, 143 Sauchiehall St., Glascow, England, selection 47.

Life Is A Gift To Thee

Don't let the night take you away
Shadows will persuade you to go
Into the dark of your soul
Your heart will fade slowly
Sinking into despair
And there will be no one there.
No comfort, no light
Nothing will seem right
Your own existence will be questioned.
There is a place in ones soul to go
Where there is no coming back
With no hope inside and full of pride.
The darkness will be your reward
Playing on the edge will trap you
Resist evil and it will flee from you
Reach in and take hold of the light.
Embrace the love of God
One life,one heart , one soul
Don't let it go
Life is worth living
Fulfill your purpose.
Stand firm in rightousness
Hang on and be strong
Let love lead you.
Darkness is past
And this life won't last
Let the sun shine in your heart
Then you will see
That life is a gift to thee.
By Linda LaMar
Copyright 2000

The Hand That I Was Dealt In Life


The hand that I was dealt in life
Was violent,dark and sad
But I kept inside a faith in God
And thanked him for what I had.

As the seas rushed in, I felt sometimes
That I'd sink into despair
But I knew somehow I'd make it through
As long as God was there.

To save myself from falling in
To the misery and pain
I 'd say a prayer to mighty God
And he'd help me to sustain.

Through all the pain and heaviness
Sometimes my faith would not endure
But I knew that God would heal the pain
That was the one thing that I was sure.

Through the years the hands got worse
But my faith was growing strong
And looking back I learned to see
The things that I'd done wrong.

I prayed to God with my heart this time
And he heard me loud and clear
He forgave me of my sins of old
And took away the fear.

I thank God for the bad and good
And for all he's done for me
In looking back at all the pain
The lessons now I see.

With faith and hope and love of God
You can make it through it all
Don't let the seas of pain and misery
Rob you of it all.

Keep faith and hope a day will come
When you too can look back and see
You played the hand the God has dealt
And got through it gracefully.


Copyright 2000
Linda LaMar

God's Holy Place


It's Sunday again and I'm on my way
To hear all the things that God has to say
My very own place where no-one can see
Each week I am there by my favorite tree

I watch everyone as they're walking in
With dresses of silk and suits for the men
I know they are blessed it shows on their face
They're happy to share God's holiest place

I wish I could go but I don't belong
I couldn't shame God with clothes that are wrong
As I wait to hear the pastor's sweet voice
These dark clouds appear I must make a choice
With thunder so loud and lightning all round
I run to the church through rain pouring down

I open the door so quiet and slow
I'll stay in the back so no-one will know
As I turn around the silence was there
Heads turned one by one they started to stare

The whispers I heard had hurt even more
Especially the one I heard by the door
"How dare she come in to this holy place
Her dress is just rags with dirt on her face"

I thought to myself "How cruel they can be"
As I watched each one just staring at me
I felt so ashamed my tears start to fall
I clung to my dress not moving at all

When I turned to leave I heard someone say
"Please join us my friend I've prayed for this day"
His hand covered mine as I turned to see
The pastor had tears in his eyes for me

He led me up to the very front row
And whispered "God's pleased you don't have to go"
The carpet was soft as clouds in the sky
I saw paintings of the angels that fly
Such colors of red bright silver and gold
Yes this really was a sight to behold

Unworthy I felt to be in this place
And then my eyes saw the pain on his face
A statue of Christ that stood very tall
Mistreated by man yet died for us all

Then I had noticed the dirt on his face
And rags that he wore in this holy place
I looked at my dress so ragged and torn
Yes this was the best that I could have worn

The pastor then smiled when he looked at me
He knew this was what I needed to see
His thought for the day when church was all through
"Judge Ye Not Your Brother For God Will Judge You"

In silence they left he said no good-byes
Then he came by me with tears in his eyes
He said he was glad for his answered prayer
I knew then he'd seen me sitting out there

Then on my old dress a white rose he laid
He made it all worth the price I had paid
He said, "Don't you know it's God you must please
What's deep in your heart is all that he sees"

He held my hand tight then wiped my last tear
He said "Please come back you are welcome here"
While walking back home cold rain on my face
So much like the eyes in "God's Holy Place"

I know now I'm rich yes he made me see
God even will Love a person like me

by Freda H. Babinski

A Poem For Each & Every Day


May you have...

Enough happiness to keep you sweet,
Enough trials to keep you strong,
Enough sorrow to keep you human,
Enough hope to keep you happy,
Enough failure to keep you humble,
Enough success to keep you eager,
Enough friends to give you comfort,
Enough wealth to meet your needs,
Enough enthusiasm to look forward,
Enough faith to banish depression,
Enough determination to make each day
better than yesterday!

What If That Were Me


What if that were me, wandering through the streets?
All I own upon my back, no home, no place to sleep.
Wouldn't I want someone, to help me find my way?
Wouldn't I want someone, to kneel with me and pray?


What if that were me, locked in that prison cell?
Feeling lost and lonely in my self-made hell.
Wouldn't I want someone, to show some sympathy?
Wouldn't I want someone to share God's grace with me?


What if that were me, Lord? What if that were me?
Show me how to be like You, to be Your hands and feet
Teach me how to show Your love to all in life I meet;
Remind me, Lord, to ask myself, "What if that were me?"


Copyright ©2000 Jan McIntosh


He will reply, "I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do
for one of the least of these, you did not do for me."
Matthew 25:45

Every Moments He Knows


Every moment He knows where I am,
Every moment He sees where I go,
Every moment His eyes are upon me;
My every moment my Father knows.


Every moment I'm kept by His grace,
Every moment His sweet mercy flows,
Every moment He surrounds me with love;
My every moment my Father knows.


Copyright ©1992 by Jan McIntosh


You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
You comprehend my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
(Psalm 139:2-3)

Emergency Numbers

When in sorrow call John 14
When you are lonely or fearful call Psalms 23
When you want to be fruitful call John 15
When you want rest and peace call Matt.11:28-30
When you have sinned call Psalms 51
When you grow bitter and critical call 1Cor.13
When you worry call Matt.6:19-34
When you feel down and out call Rom.8:31-39
When your prayers grow selfish call Psalms 67
When you are in danger call Psalms 91
When your faith needs stirring call Hebrews 11
When God seems far away call Psalms 139
When others fail you call Psalms 27
When you leave home to labor or travel call Psalms 121
When you want assurance call Rom.8:1-30
For Paul's secret of happiness call Col.3:12-17
For Paul's idea of Christianity call 2 Cor.5:15-19
When the world seems bigger than God call Psalms 70

How Do You Live Your Dash ?


I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone.
From the beginning ……… to the end.

He noted that first came her date of birth
And spoke the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
(1934-1998)

For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth….
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own;
The cars… the house… the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard…
Are there things you’d like to change?

For you never know how much time is left,
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real,
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger,
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect,
And more often wear a smile…
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So, when your eulogy’s being read
With your life’s actions to rehash…
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

(
Author Unknown )