…OuR gReAtEsT pRoViDeR…

Do you believe that God not only loves you, but knows where you are and what you’re doing every minute of the day? I certainly do after an amazing experience I had several years ago.

At the time I was driving on 1-75 near Dayton, Ohio, with my wife and children. We turned off the highway for a rest and refreshment stop. My wife Barbara and children went into the restaurant. I suddenly felt the need to stretch my legs, so waved them off ahead saying I’d join them later.

I bought a soft drink, and as I walked toward a Dairy Queen, feelings of self-pity enshrouded my mind. I loved the Lord, but I felt drained, burdened. My cup was empty.

Suddenly the impatient ringing of a telephone nearby jarred me out of my doldrums. It was coming from a phone booth at a service station on the corner. Wasn’t anyone going to answer the phone?

Noise from the traffic flowing through the busy intersection must have drowned out the sound because the service station attendant continued looking after his customers, oblivious to the incessant ringing. "Why doesn’t somebody answer that phone?" I muttered. I began reasoning."It may be important. What if it’s an emergency?"

Curiosity overcame my indifference. I stepped inside the booth and picked up the phone. "Hello," I said casually and took a big sip of my drink. The operator said: "Long distance call for Ken Gaub." My eyes widened, and I almost choked on a chunk of ice. Swallowing hard, I said, "You’re crazy!" Then realizing I shouldn’t speak to an operator like that, I added, "This can’t be!

I was walking down the road, not bothering anyone, and the phone was ringing … "Is Ken Gaub there?" the operator interrupted, "I have a long distance call for him." It took a moment to gain control of my babbling, but I finally replied, "Yes, he is here."

Searching for a possible explanation, I wondered if I could possibly be on Candid Camera! Still shaken, perplexed, I asked, "How in the world did you reach me here? I was walking down the road, the pay phone started ringing, and I just answered it on chance. You can’t mean me."

"Well," the operator asked, "is Mr. Gaub there or isn’t he?" "Yes, I am Ken Gaub," I said, finally convinced by the tone of her voice that the call was real. Then I heard another voice say, "Yes, that’s him, operator. That’s Ken Gaub."

I listened dumbfounded to a strange voice identify herself. "I’m Millie from Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. You don’t know me, Mr. Gaub, but I’m desperate. Please help me." "What can I do for you?" She began weeping. Finally she regained control and continued. "I was about to commit suicide, had just finished writing a note, when I began to pray and tell God I really didn’t want to do this. Then I suddenly remembered seeing you on television and thought if I could just talk to you, you could help me. I knew that was impossible because I didn’t know how to reach you, I didn’t know anyone who could help me find you. Then some numbers came to my mind, and I scribbled them down."

At this point she began weeping again, and I prayed silently for wisdom to help her. She continued, "I looked at the numbers and thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I had a miracle from God, and He has given me Ken’s phone number?’ I decided to try calling it. I can’t believe I’m talking to you. Are you in your office in California?" I replied, "Lady, I don’t have an office in California. My office is in Yakima, Washington."

A little surprised, she asked, "Oh really, then where are you?" "Don’t you know?" I responded. "You made the call." She explained, "But I don’t even know what area I’m calling. I just dialed the number that I had on this paper." "Ma’am, you won’t believe this, but I’m in a phone booth in Dayton, Ohio!" "Really?" she exclaimed. "Well, what are you doing there?"

I kidded her gently, "Well, I’m answering the phone. It was ringing as I walked by, so I answered it." Knowing this encounter could only have been arranged by God, I began to counsel the woman. As she told me of her despair and frustration, the presence of the Holy Spirit flooded the phone booth giving me words of wisdom beyond my ability. In a matter of moments, she prayed the sinner’s prayer and met the One who would lead her out of her situation into a new life.

I walked away from that telephone booth with an electrifying sense of our heavenly Father’s concern for each of His children. What were the astronomical odds of this happening? With all the millions of phones and innumerable combinations of numbers, only an all-knowing God could have caused that woman to call that number in that phone booth at that moment in time.

Forgetting my drink and nearly bursting with exhilaration, I headed back to my family, wondering if they would believe my story. Maybe I better not tell this, I thought, but I couldn’t contain it. "Barb, you won’t believe this! God knows where I am!"

Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and show thee great and mighty things, which thou knowest not. Jer 33:3

This has also happened to me before. A person will walk up that I have never seen today and say, "I do not know why I am here. But I have to speak to you." I shortly find out why … God sent them. - Ferd@2jesus

Written by Ken Gaub, Yakima, Washington.

From National Geographic. We have not been able to find the author.

A little something to put things in perspective …
An article in National Geographic several years ago provided an interesting picture of God’s wings. After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno’s damage.

One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree. Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick. When he gently struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings.

The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offsprings to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies.

Then the blaze had arrived and the heat had scorched her small body. The mother had remained steadfast. She had been willing to die, so those under the cover of her wings would live.

"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge." (Psalm 91:4)
Being loved this much should make a difference in your life. Remember the One who loves you, and then be different because of it.

I’ve learned…. That the best classroom in the world is at the feet of an elderly person. 

I’ve learned…. That when you’re in love, it shows. 

I’ve learned…. That just one person saying to me, "You’ve made my day!" makes my day. 

I’ve learned…. That having a child fall asleep in your arms is one of the most peaceful feelings in the world. 

I’ve learned…. That being kind is more important than being right. 

I’ve learned…. That you should never say no to a gift from a child. 

I’ve learned…. That I can always pray for someone when I don’t have the strength to help him in some other way. 

I’ve learned…. That no matter how serious your life requires you to be, everyone needs a friend to act goofy with. 

I’ve learned…. That sometimes all a person needs is a hand to hold and a heart to understand. 

I’ve learned…. That simple walks with my father around the block on summer nights when I was a child did wonders for me as an adult. 

I’ve learned…. That life is like a roll of toilet paper. The closer it gets to the end, the faster it goes. 

I’ve learned…. That we should be glad God doesn’t give us everything we ask for. 

I’ve learned…. That money doesn’t buy class. 

I’ve learned…. That it’s those small daily happenings that make life so spectacular. 

I’ve learned… That under everyone’s hard shell is someone who wants to be appreciated and loved. 

I’ve learned…. That the Lord didn’t do it all in one day. What makes me think I can? 

I’ve learned…. That to ignore the facts does not change the facts. 

I’ve learned…. That when you plan to get even with someone, you are only letting that person continue to hurt you. 

I’ve learned…. That love, not time, heals all wounds. 

I’ve learned…. That the easiest way for me to grow as a person is to surround myself with people smarter than I am. 

I’ve learned…. That everyone you meet deserves to be greeted with a smile. 

I’ve learned…. That there’s nothing sweeter than sleeping with your babies and feeling their breath on your cheeks. 

I’ve learned…. That no one is perfect until you fall in love with them. 

I’ve learned…. That life is tough, but I’m tougher. 

I’ve learned…. That opportunities are never lost; someone will take the ones you miss. 

I’ve learned…. That when you harbor bitterness, happiness will dock elsewhere. 

I’ve learned…. That I wish I could have told my Dad that I love him one more time before he passed away. 

I’ve learned…. That one should keep his words both soft and tender, because tomorrow he may have to eat them. 

I’ve learned…. That a smile is an inexpensive way to improve your looks. 

I’ve learned…. That I can’t choose how I feel, but I can choose what I do about it. 

I’ve learned…. That when your newly born grandchild holds your little finger in his little fist, that you’re hooked for life. 

I’ve learned…. That everyone wants to live on top of the mountain, but all the happiness and growth occurs while you’re climbing it. 

I’ve learned … That it is best to give advice in only two circumstances; when it is requested and when it is a life threatening situation. 

I’ve learned…. That the less time I have to work with, the more things I get done. 

–Author Unknown–

The man whispered, "God, speak to me,"

And the meadowlark sang.

But the man did not hear.

So the man yelled, "God, speak to me!"

And the thunder rolled across the sky.

But the man did not listen.

The man looked around and said, "God, let me see you."

And the stars shone brightly.

But the man did not notice.

And the man shouted, "God, show me a miracle!"

And a life was born.

But the man did not know.

So, the man cried out in despair.

"Touch me God, and let me know that you are here!"

Whereupon God reached down and touched the man.

But the man brushed the butterfly away and walked on.

MORAL: Don’t miss out on a blessing because it isn’t packaged the way you expect.

—Author Unknown—

From Godslittleacre.net

A tear trickled down Abby’s rosy cheek.  It stung her chapped face. "I don’t understand, Mommy. Look at those people. Look at that old lady. She’s so dirty. Why do they live in such a horrible place?"

"Yes, Mommy, I am." Abby’s vision was still blurred by her tears as she and her mother walked on toward church."

"Abby was very quiet at dinner tonight.  Isn’t she feeling well?" As he spoke Joseph Turner stood and walked over to his chair by the old fireplace. He immediately buried his attention in the evening paper.

"I think she’s still upset about seeing some homeless people today.   She seemed confused and hurt for them. It kind of bothered me, too. I feel sorry for them."

Catherine began clearing the table anticipating some sort of response from her husband, but only heard the shuffle of his newspaper.  Disappointment stung her inside and she knew it would be a waste of time to repeat anything.  After she finished the dishes, she went upstairs to see if Abby was feeling any better.

Abby always helped her through the sadness about Joseph.  His coldness had only worsened since the death of their son last year.  And she and Abby had felt it more and more since the holidays had begun again.  How could they survive a
Christmas without Shane?

"Abby?" Catherine knocked lightly on the door.

"Yes, Mommy?"

"Sure, come on in."

Abby was sitting at her little desk.  It wouldn’t be long before she would need a real desk. She was growing so fast.  Catherine could hardly believe she was already in the first grade.

"Whatcha’ doing?"

Abby held up a white piece of paper with crayon marks on it. The marks were actually pictures of stick men lying on the ground by what seemed to be a big wall.

"They’re those bums we saw today. But they’re sleeping now or maybe they’re even dead, Mommy."
 
"Abby, why would you think they were dead?  Those people weren’t dead." Catherine sat down beside Abby at her little red table.

"Well, they must be.  If you stay outside, you die right?   Daddy always said that if it weren’t for him, I’d be on the street probably dead somewhere."

The cruelty of her husband’s arrogance rang in Catherine’s ears as she heard Abby utter those ridiculous words.

"As far as the ‘bums’, they may not get to live in a warm home like us, but Jesus still loves them, just as much as he loves us.  And he wants them to come to heaven someday, too, Abby, you’re father doesn’t mean that if you live on the street you’ll die. Listen, sometimes your father says things he doesn’t really mean.  He just  doesn’t think about things before he says them.  Please try to be patient with him. Christmas is going to be hard for him."

"I know. It’s Shane isn’t it? Every time Daddy is grouchy and says mean things, it’s because he’s sad about Shane.  I don’t understand why he gets mad at us, though. We didn’t make him die."

"I know, sweetie.  Your Dad is still very hurt over Shane dying. And now that it’s almost Christmas again, it hurts more. Just try to be understanding.  Do you know what that means?"

"Yeah, sure.  It means I need to love him even when it feels like he doesn’t love me? Right?"

"Yes, Abby.  Just like Jesus loves us.  He is understanding even when we make mistakes and act as though we don’t love him."

"I know, Mommy. Mrs. Parson taught us that in Sunday School. I wish he wouldn’t  be sad anymore. It hurts my feelings too much."

"Yes, you do understand, don’t you?  I love you Abby.   We’ll be okay, I promise."

Catherine kissed Abby goodnight and walked toward the door with heartache overwhelming her.

"Mommy, does Jesus understand Daddy?"

"I don’t think your father knows who Jesus is, dear.  I think that’s why he is still hurting so much over Shane.  Jesus would help if your Daddy would let him.  But he won’t talk about God or church. Good night, Abby. I love you."

Abby stared at her picture for a second and then knelt on her little knees beside her bed.

"Dear Jesus in Heaven, please forgive me for not being a good girl sometimes.  I will do better. Thank you for helping me.  Jesus please help those ‘homelesses’ people.  And please help my Mommy not be sad over Shane and Daddy.  And I hope you keep being understanding for Daddy. I’m sorry he doesn’t know who you  are.  Can you please help him find out who you are? I love you Jesus.  Thank you for Daddy and Mommy and me and our warm house.
In Jesus name, Amen."

Catherine cried softly in her pillow, her heart aching for Shane, and for her husband, but more for Abby who seemed to get the brunt of everyone’s pain - including her own.

"Wake up, Mommy! Wake up Daddy! It’s Christmas morning! Wake up you guys!"

"Merry Christmas, Abby."

Abby’s mom forced her tired body out of bed and crept slowly down the cold steps. Why won’t he put carpet on these steps?  Catherine grumbled to herself. As she stepped off the bottom step, she looked on in awe at Abby and three empty stockings and a very bare Christmas tree.  Abby’s eyes were full of tears and her little tummy shook with tender sobs.

"Mommy, where are my presents?  I was a good girl this year?  Where are my presents,Mommy?"  Abby ran to her mother and wrapped her trembling arms around her.

Catherine knew immediately where Abby’s presents were?  They were still in the attic.  She had taken special care this year - weeks of shopping and choosing that extra special something just for Abby.  And now Joseph had ruined everything. He had ruined the special surprises that should  have been waiting on Abby when she woke on Christmas morning?  How could he do this?

"Mommy, doesn’t Santa love me anymore?"

"Abby, you know that all gifts come from Jesus not Santa. He’s just the one who brings them to you."

Abby looked at her mom with weepy eyes.  "Then does that mean Jesus doesn’t love me?"

"No, Abby! Now you know that Jesus would never stop loving you. Don’t worry, Abby, I’m sure your presents will be here very soon. Okay?  Now run up to your room and get dressed.  I bet they’ll be here before you get finished. K?  Go on.  Don’t you worry."

Abby ran upstairs followed by her very angry mother.

"JOSEPH TURNER!"

Abby’s father nearly fell out of bed, startled by the scream at the bedroom door.

"What, what’s the matter?  Why are you yelling, Catherine?   What’s wrong?"  Joseph grabbed his robe and went hastily to see what was happening.

"Joseph, you forgot Abby’s presents! You put the presents under the tree every year. Remember? I always go to bed and you always bring everything down and  play "Santa".   Abby just ran down those stairs anticipating a room of Christmas splendor.  What do you think she found this morning?"

Joseph dropped his head.  He knew he had messed up bad this time.   He had  forgotten Catherine and Abby’s birthday just two months ago. And now he had forgotten Christmas.  He knew they would never forgive him. But somehow, he didn’t feel the guilt he should have.   Anger was working into his heart more quickly than ever these days.

"Catherine, do you expect me to do everything?  You could do your part around here, too, you know?  You should’ve reminded me last night or done it yourself! Why is everything my fault?  I’m just so sick of you blaming everything wrong in this house on me!  Nothing would be wrong in this house if you had taken  better care of Shane!" Joseph knew instantly that he had said the wrong thing.  The chill of Catherine’s expression covered him like a winter breeze.

"That’s it, Joseph!  I’ve lived for a year now with the pain of Shane’s death and even more with the guilt you’ve forced on me.  I know if Shane had been with me he would still be here, but he isn’t! And I can’t change that!  And neither can
your cold and insensitive heart! You can’t bring Shane back by treating us this way; by shutting us out. Well that is, until you’re ready to shower us with your cruelty. He’s gone Joseph, he’s gone!" 

Catherine dressed quickly as she cried out loud this time.  She couldn’t hide her pain any longer.  He would just have to go on. This time he would have to hear her pain!

Abby was standing outside her parents door when her mother came out. "I’m sorry, Mommy. I’m sorry Shane is in heaven."

Catherine cradled Abby in her arms, "Abby, don’t ever be sorry that Shane is in heaven. He is so happy there.  We miss him, but I’m sure that he is so happy to be with Jesus." Catherine’s tears flowed into Abby’s soft curls. "Abby, get your coat. We’re going to walk down to the church."

"So we can talk to Jesus, Mom?  Will Jesus bring me my presents?"

"Sure, honey, we can talk to Jesus. And we’ll talk about the presents later. Okay?" Catherine turned and gave a long hard look at her husband. "I think it’s time you made a decision. You’ve already lost a son, do you want to lose you’re whole family?  Or even more, you’re soul?"

Catherine’s words stung.  He knew she was right.  He had spent the last year blaming  everyone, especially her for Shane’s death. And he’d been letting the rest of his family die as well.

Their pace was much slower than normal today.  Mommy always walks by these places very fast. Abby thought.We’re going so slow. She must be really mad at Daddy.

"It’s okay I didn’t get any presents, Mommy?  Jesus wouldn’t do that on purpose.  He must have forgotten.  I can’t be mad at him.  I forgetto say my prayers a lot and he doesn’t get mad. Really, Mommy, it’s okay."

"Abby, your Daddy was supposed to bring your presents, not Santa or even Jesus. Yes, Jesus is the reason we have presents and a Christmas, but it is your Daddy who brings them. Okay?  And he just forgot this time. I’m sorry, I didn’t want you  to find out about Santa this way. I’m sorry your feelings are hurt.  Your presents are in the attic, sweetie.  We’ll get them when we get back from service. Okay?"  Catherine stopped walking and knelt down and looked at Abby’s sweet little eyes. "Listen, I am sorry I  told you about Santa like that.  Are you very disappointed?"

Abby hugged her mother and kissed her on the cheek. "Mommy, I know Santa isn’t real.  Shane told me before he ……….  He made me promise not to tell. I was afraid you and Daddy were mad at me and didn’t get me a present. Daddy is always mad at me for Shane. Is that why he didn’t get my stuff? ‘Cause he’s mad?"

"No, Abby, he’s not mad at you, neither am I.  We’ll get your gifts when we get home. Is that all right?  And I’m glad you didn’t break your promise to Shane.  He would be very proud of you."

They started walking again and in minutes were walking by the ‘homelesses’ people again. Abby tugged on her mom’s coat to stop. "What is it, Abby?"

Catherine looked down to see Abby running toward a dirty-looking lady who was rummaging through a bag in her lap. She was startled at Abby’s insistence and went running after her. "Abby, come here! Please, Abby, don’t go over there!"

"Just a minute, Mommy."  Abby ran up to the lady and hugged her as tightly as she could. Her mother stood still in shock.  What is she doing? She walked up slowly to her daughter who still had not let go of the surprised woman.

"I just wanted to tell you, Mam, that Jesus loves you even if you don’t have a house; and if Jesus loves you, so do I!"  The lady looked in disbelief at this strange little girl and then at the woman standing behind her.  Catherine could not believe her eyes. This little girl had hugged a woman that hardly anyone else would even take time to look at, let alone hug.

"Abby, it’s time to go. Okay?"  As Abby let go, Catherine’s heart melted when she  heard the whimpering of the woman sitting on the concrete. Her dirty face was stained  by tears. "Thank you," she uttered through a hoarse voice.  "Thank you."

Abby and her mother walked away - smiling and crying together.

"I’m so very proud of you, Abby.  Jesus is too, I’m sure."
.
"I wish we could help her, Mommy."

She was gone!

"Where is the lady that was sitting here?" They asked a man leaning against the wall.

"What lady?" He rudely answered. "There’s no one here but me and George. This is our spot, no one else’s. Now get lost!"

Abby looked at her mother, and Catherine looked at her daughter. And not another word was said.

Joseph stood and stared blankly out the front window.  He couldn’t decide who he was more angry at, himself or Catherine.  Catherine was the only one who could have helped Shane, and she wasn’t even there to do it. She was his mother for God’s sake. Joseph found himself screaming at her in his thoughts.  How could things turn out so wrong for them? How could she turn out so wrong for him?  She was supposed to take care of their children, and she had failed.  Now Shane was gone, gone forever. Of course, I’m mad.  He would still be here!
Joseph pushed the angry thoughts from his mind and started back upstairs to return to bed.

As he turned the corner on the landing, he thought he heard a knock on the door.  He wasn’t sure, but that had to be what he heard, no one else was home. He peeked through the side window and saw an old lady dressed in the typical "bum" fashions.

Good God he thought.  Why can’t these people go somewhere else?

"Well, sir, I don’t want your money.  I was wondering if you might have a few table scraps you were going to throw away, sir?"

"You’ve got to be kidding, lady? Can’t you go to the shelter down the road? They feed you, don’t they?"

"They don’t have any room today.  Are you sure you can’t spare something?

Joseph stepped backward to close the door, and again he heard a voice that sounded just like Shane.  He was getting nervous now and wished  he lady would just leave and let him go back to sleep.

"Sir, if you please?"

"Yes, what is it?" He opened the door again.

"Could I take just a minute to get warm?  Only a minute?"

"Listen, lady, no you can’t.  Good luck and good day."

Joseph slammed the door and headed toward his bedroom; annoyed at the interruption.  Can’t take a hint, even when you say no! What’s wrong with these people?.

"Please help me!?!" He heard the lady scream from outside.  A chill came over him when he heard the lady crying.  He ran down the stairs and looked through the front window. The lady and her funny bag were lying face down in the snow.

"Good Lord!" Joseph ran out into the snow in his bare feet toward her.

"Are you all right?  Are you hurt?  Say something!   Are you okay?"

"Yes, I think so." She groaned as Joseph helped her to her feet.

All this nonsense was really getting on his nerves. "Can you make it back home?" knowing quite well she didn’t have one.

"Yes, sir, I think I can.  Thank you for helping me.  You are very kind to come out in the cold and offer your assistance. Your son IS very proud of you."

The words made him cringe. "What did you say?"

"I said your son is proud of you for helping me."

Joseph’s heart ached with pain and embarrassment..  Suddenly he realized his arrogance, his lack of compassion - not only for this lady, but for the world, and more importantly, for his own family.  No, Shane would not be  proud of his Dad.
He would be quite ashamed.

"Listen, do you think you might have time to come in for a minute? I could find something for you to eat. I know my wife keeps leftovers in the refrigerator."

"I’m sure Catherine is a wonderful cook." She spoke slowly with what seemed like much effort.

Joseph was in amazement.  He could feel his stomach quivering. (Abby always said it was like frogs jumping rope in your tummy.)  What am I so excited about?
Or am I afraid, or is it both?  What is wrong with me?

"Do we know you?  Do you know my wife?  Maybe from church or something?" Joseph filled her plate with more leftover chicken and biscuits.

"No, I came here just yesterday.  My husband died and I had to leave home."

"Why did you come here?  Why this house?  There are twenty, why this one?"

"Well, I met a young man in town yesterday. I believe his name was Shon.  No, actually it was Shane. Well, he told me if I came here that you and your wife would not turn me away.  He said that he knew you would help me and feed me."

Joseph stared in disbelief.  How could this be possible?  Had she really talked to their son? No, it was impossible!  Things like this just didn’t happen….. Or did they?

"And he said to tell he was very proud of you."

Joseph’s heart leapt with joy!

"Thank you, oh thank you!  You don’t know what you’ve given me.  What a wonderful Christmas gift you’ve brought to me and this home!"  Joseph showed the woman to the front door and helped her with her coat.  As she left, he gave her a kiss on her round, weathered cheek.

"No, sir, you’ve helped me.  Thank you, sir.  And I know that if your son were still alive, he would be very proud. I just know it." And she shut the door.

"Wait a minute!  How did you know…………?"

Joseph jerked the door open to find an empty stoop. He ran out the door and couldn’t find the bag lady anywhere. WHERE DID SHE GO?!!!

Joseph Turner was filled with so much excitement that he could hardly contain himself. He knew he had much to do to redeem himself.  How could Catherine or Abby ever forgive him for the way he had treated them for so long? He had to do  something special.  He had to say he was sorry.

Joseph’s eyes began to sparkle and the "frogs began to jump rope" again in his tummy as his mind started working on the needed apology.  He would make this a Christmas to remember.

As they walked through the iron gate at the end of their yard, they both knew that the other didn’t want to go in.  Abby was afraid her Daddy would be mad at them for going to church and Catherine dreaded the consequences of the harsh, but truthful, words she had spoken before they had left that morning.  Who knew what kind of mood he’d be in now?

The door creaked as they opened it.  As they walked into the foyer, they looked at each other with two very large, beautiful smiles. Could it be?  Was that the aroma of turkey and dressing and, yes, pumpkin pie?  What in the world?  They both ran to the kitchen and found Mr. Joseph Turner wearing an apron and mittens, carrying a deliciously basted turkey to the dining room.  The table was donned with holly and candles and trimmings fit for a king. And in Catherine’s mind, it was for the King.

"Merry Christmas, my love, Merry Christmas, my little princess!" He led them to the table where they enjoyed the most wonderful Christmas dinner ever. Catherine’s praises poured toward Heaven the entire meal.  Her husband seemed to be back to normal. But she also felt a little sadness, too.  She knew that he didn’t know Jesus Christ as his Savior and the reason for this joyous season. He just wouldn’t believe "Such Nonsense!", he had said too many times. But she rejoiced and praised God for his change of heart. It was truly a blessing for them all.

"And now, for the big surprise!" 

"SURPRISE!"

Abby jumped up and down, laughing and screaming with joy.  They both found the stockings packed with a mixture of candy canes, ribbons, and lovely trinkets. The tree was lit with strings of glimmering lights and silver tinsel.  The gold paper on the gifts sparkled with green, red and blue ribbons. They were all nestled snugly beneath the tree just waiting for Abby and Catherine.

What a surprise indeed!

The gifts unwrapped and the eggnog poured, it seemed like everything was as it should be. But somehow it wasn’t and Abby knew that as much as Catherine did. She rose and hugged her mother and whispered softly in her ear, "Mommy, does this mean that Daddy knows who Jesus is now?"

Catherine’s heart began to ache again, for she knew that Abby’s Dad didn’t know Jesus at all, even though he seemed to have found himself again.

"No, Abby, I don’t think so." She whispered back.

"Have you ever asked him?" Abby wanted to know.

"Yes, but he never wants to talk about it."

"Maybe I   should ask him?"

Catherine looked at her daughter and knew in her heart that Abby really loved her father. She was so happy that Abby loved him enough to want to share Jesus with him

"Why don’t you do that, Abby?  Ask your Daddy if he knows who Jesus is."

Abby scooted her slipper-covered feet across the hardwood floor as she moved close to her father.  "Daddy, I need to talk to you."

"Yes, Abby, what is it?" He picked her up and set her in his lap and hugged her tightly.

"Daddy, do you know who Jesus is?"

"Well, yes, Abby, don’t you?  I thought you learned that stuff at church?"

"I do.  I mean, Daddy, do you know who Jesus is?"

Abby’s father held onto his daughter so tightly she seemed to wince with pain.  He felt his heart would jump right out of his chest.  Suddenly, Catherine and Abby saw something that they had never seen, not even when Shane had died.  Joseph Turner began to weep.   Abby hugged him, "Daddy, I love you and so does Mommy, and so does Jesus.".

  Catherine practically jumped into his arms.  The three sat together holding one another, crying, and praying.  Praying with praise for deliverance from the pain of death and for deliverance of their souls, all three of them.

As they held each other, Abby whispered, "What made you change your mind, Daddy?"

Joseph grinned remembering his unusual visitor that morning. "Well, let’s put it this way, she was a little birdy with a dirty face and a funny bag."

Catherine looked at Abby and Abby looked at her. Their eyes widened with surprise! They knew without a doubt what had happened - and a beautiful smile swept across each of their faces.

"What?" Joseph asked. "What’s so funny?"

Catherine and Abby just kept smiling and hugged the most wonderful man in their lives.

It was truly a very, Merry Christmas this year.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The End

©1997, 1998, 1999 - Chanda L. Siler - All Rights Reserved

In the dark? Follow the Son.

If God is your co-pilot, swap seats.

If you can’t sleep, don’t count sheep. Talk to the Shepherd.

If you don’t like the way you were born, try being born again.

How will you spend eternity — smoking or non-smoking?

If you’re headed in the wrong direction, God allows U-turns.

May the forces of evil become confused on the way to your house. (George Carlin)

Feed your faith and doubt will starve to death.

Don’t go digging where God has buried your sins.

When satan is knocking at your door, simply say, "Jesus, could you please get that for me."

A clean conscience makes a soft pillow.

Don’t wait for the hearse to take you to church.

A family altar can alter a family.

A lot of kneeling will keep you in good standing.

Give God what’s right, not what’s left.

Exercise daily. Walk with the Lord.

He who kneels before God can stand before anyone!

The will of God will never take you to where the Grace of God will not protect you.

The task ahead of us is never as great as the power behind us.

The ten commandments aren’t prefaced with "if you’re in the mood."

When the tides of life turn against you
And the current upsets your boat
Don’t waste those tears on what might have been
Just lay on your back and float!
(Ed Norton - The Honeymooners)

A coincidence is when God performs a miracle and decides to remain anonymous.

To the world you might be one person, but to one person you might be the world.

Laughter is life’s shock absorber.

Live your life in the manner that you would like your kids to live theirs.

You don’t have to attend every argument you’re invited to.

The Bible contains the vitamins of soul health.

*hope you like it! there’s a lot more to come..

COMING SOON: Words of Wisdom for Everyone II

My brother Kevin thinks God lives under his bed.  At least that’s what I heard him say one night.  He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped outside his closed door to listen.  "Are you there, God?" he said.  "Where are you?  Oh, I see.  Under the bed."  I giggled softly and tiptoed off to my own room.

Kevin’s unique perspectives are often a source of amusement.  But that night something else lingered long after the humor.  I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in.  He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor.  Apart from his size (he’s 6′2"), there are few ways in which he is an adult.  He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7 year old, and he always will.  He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas, and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them.

I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different.  Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?  Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, returning to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed.  The only variation in the entire scheme are laundry days, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child.

He does not seem dissatisfied.  He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7:05 eager for a day of simple work.  He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day’s laundry chores.  And Saturdays — oh, the bliss of Saturdays!  That’s the day my dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside.  "That one’s goin’ to Chi-car-go!" Kevin shouts as he claps his hands.  His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights.

I don’t think Kevin knows anything exists outside his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips.  He doesn’t know what it means to be discontent.  His life is simple.  He will never know the entanglements of wealth or power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats.  He recognizes no differences in people, treating each person as an equal and a friend.  His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be.

His hands are diligent.  Kevin is never so happy as when he is working.  When he  unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.  He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished.  But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax.  He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others.

His heart is pure.  He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue.  Free from pride and  unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry.  He is always transparent, always sincere.

And he trusts God.  Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child.  Kevin seems to know God — to really be friends with Him in a way that is difficult for an "educated" person to grasp.  God seems like his closest companion.

In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith.  It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions.  It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap — I am.  My obligations, my fears, my pride, my circumstances — they all become disabilities when I do not submit them to Christ.

Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn?  After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of the Lord.  And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I’ll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed.

Kevin won’t be surprised at all. 

- AUTHOR UNKNOWN -

Read on Air by Phil Foley, Host of Tabernacle Presbyterian Church’s Good News From Tab Program on 12/6/00

After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church’s pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was in the service that evening.  In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service.
 
With that, an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak.  "A father, his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific Coast," he began, "when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to shore.  The waves were so high that, even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright, and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized."

- AUTHOR UNKNOWN -

An article in National Geographic several years ago provided a penetrating picture of God’s wings.

After a forest fire in Yellowstone National Park, forest rangers began their trek up a mountain to assess the inferno’s damage.  One ranger found a bird literally petrified in ashes, perched statuesquely on the ground at the base of a tree.  Somewhat sickened by the eerie sight, he knocked over the bird with a stick.  When he struck it, three tiny chicks scurried from under their dead mother’s wings.

The loving mother, keenly aware of impending disaster, had carried her offspring to the base of the tree and had gathered them under her wings, instinctively knowing that the toxic smoke would rise. 

She could have flown to safety but had refused to abandon her babies.  When the blaze had arrived and the heat had singed her small body, the mother remained steadfast.  She  had been willing to die so those under the cover of her wings would live.

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge;
his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. 
Psalm 91:4 (NIV)