20 Dec 09 Heaven’s Grocery Store

I was walking down life’s highway a long time ago.
One day I saw a sign that read, "Heaven’s Grocery Store".
As I got a little closer the door came open wide,
And when I came to myself I was standing inside.
I saw a host of Angels, they were standing everywhere.
One handed me a basket and said "My Child shop with care."
Everything a Christian needs is in that grocery store,
And all you can’t carry, come back the next day for more.

First, I got some Patience, Love was in the same row.
Further down was Understanding, needed everywhere you go.
I got a box or two of Wisdom, a bag or two of Faith,
I just couldn’t miss the Holy Ghost, it was all over the place.
I stopped to get some Strength and Courage to help me run this race,
But then my blanket was getting full, and I remembered I needed Grace.

I didn’t forget Salvation, which like the others was free,
So I tried to get enough of that to save both you and me.
Then I started to the counter to pay my grocery bill,
For I thought I had everything to do my Master’s will.
As I went up the aisle, I saw Prayer and had to put it in,
For I knew when I stepped outside, I would run right into sin.
Peace and Joy were plentiful, they were on the last shelf.
Song and Praises were hanging near, so I just helped myself.

Then I said to the Angel, "How much do I owe"?
The Angel smiled and said, "Just take them everywhere you go."
Again, I politely asked "How much do I really owe?"
The Angel smiled again and said,
"My Child, Jesus Paid Your Bill A Long Time Ago."

— 1990 Ron DeMarco & Friend

28 Oct 09 The Teacup

There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup.They said, “May we see that? We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful.”
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke.

“You don’t understand,” it said. “I haven’t always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, ‘let me alone, but he only smiled, ‘Not yet.’

“Then I was placed on a spinning wheel,” the teacup said, “and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. Stop it! I’m getting dizzy! I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, ‘Not yet.’
Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as He shook His head, ‘Not yet.’

Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. ‘There, that’s better,’ I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. ‘Stop it, stop it!’ I cried. He only nodded, ‘Not yet.’

Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, ‘Not yet.’

Then I knew there wasn’t any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, ‘Look at yourself.

And I did. I said, ‘That’s not me; that couldn’t be me. It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.’ ‘I want you to remember, then,’ he said, ‘I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you’d have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled. I knew it hurt and was hot an disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life. And if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.

Tags: Master, master piece, moulding a maserpiece, teacup

21 Jul 09 To tell a lie

A minister noticed a group of boys standing around a small stray dog. “What are you doing, boys?”
“Telling lies,” said one of the boys. “The one who tells the biggest lie gets the dog.”
“Why, when I was your age,” the shocked minister said, “I never ever thought of telling a lie.”
The boys looked at one another, a little crestfallen. Finally one of them shrugged and said, “I guess he wins the dog.”

Tags: Lying, Tell a lie

28 Jun 09 Blessing in disguise

This is good

I heard the story about a king in Africa who had a close friend with whom he had grown up. The friend had a habit of looking at every situation that occurred in his life (positive or negative) and remarking, “This is good!”

One day the king and his friend were out on a hunting expedition. The friend would load and prepare the guns for the king. The friend had apparently done something wrong in preparing one of the guns, for after taking the gun from his friend, the king fired it and his thumb was blown off.

Examining the situation the friend remarked as usual, “This is good!” to which the king replied, “No, this is NOT good!” and proceeded to send his friend to jail.

About a year later, the king was hunting in an area wherein he should have known not to hunt. Cannibals captured him and took them to their village.They tied his hands, stacked some wood, set up a stake and bound him to the stake. As they came close to set fire to the wood, they noticed that the king was missing a thumb. Being superstitious, they never ate anyone who was less than whole. So untying the king, they sent him on his way.

As he returned home, he was reminded of the event that had taken his thumb and felt remorse for his treatment of his friend. He went immediately to the jail to speak with his friend. “You were right”, he said, “it was good that my thumb was blown off.” And he proceeded to tell the friend all that had just happened. “And so I am very sorry for sending you to jail for so long. It was bad for me to do this.”

“No,” his friend replied, “this is good!”
“What do you mean, ‘this is good!’ How could it be good that I sent my friend to jail for a year?”
“If I had NOT been in jail, I would have been with you, and I would have been eaten!”

Sometime God allows certain things to happen to us to save us from future disasters. We are thought that we have be thankful in all things.

 In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.  1Thessalonians 5:18

When bad things happen to us, it may just be a blessing in disguise to prepare us for something bigger or avoid something worse in the future. So give thanks!

Tags: blessing in disguise, cannibals, jail, king, this is good

20 Jun 09 What is obedience?

Suppose I say to my boy, “Willie, I want you to go out and bring me a glass of water.” He says he doesn’t want to go. “I didn’t ask you whether you wanted to go or not, Willie; I told you to go.” “But I don’t want to go,” he says. “I tell you, you must go and get me a glass of water.”

He does not like to go. But he knows I am very fond of grapes, and he is very fond of them himself, so he goes out, and some one gives him a beautiful cluster of grapes. He comes in, and says, “Here, papa; here is a beautiful cluster of grapes for you.” “But what about the water?” “Won’t the grapes be acceptable, papa?” “No, my boy, the grapes are not acceptable; I won’t take them; I want you to get me a glass of water.”

The little fellow doesn’t want to get the water, but he goes out, and this time some one gives him an orange. He brings it in and places it before me. “Is that acceptable?” he asks. “No, no, no!” I say, “I want nothing but water; you cannot do anything to please me until you get the water.”

And so, my friends, to please God you must first obey Him.

If ye love me, keep my commandments. (John 14:15)

Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I command you. (John 15:14)

Though he were a Son, yet learned he obedience by the things which he suffered;  (Hebrews 5:8)

Tags: Obedience, please God

19 Jun 09 I found myself in the room

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.

There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order.

But these files, which were stretched from floor to ceiling and were seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I Have Liked,” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realise that I recognised the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalogue system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me, as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed.”

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told”, “Comfort I Have Given”, “Jokes I Have Laughed At”. Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I Have Yelled At My Little Brother.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done In My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath At My Parents”.

I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes even fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my life to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each was signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To,” I realised that the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of wasted time that file represented.

While I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out – its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn those cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor. I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it out.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The file with the title “People I Have Shared The Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep with sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I feel on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please, not Him! Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response, and in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively to go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally, He turned around and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes, but His was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands, and began to cry again.He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, No,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door.

There were still cards to be written….…

 

Tags: files, It is finished, Jesus, room, Shame, share gospel