To Run Barefoot

For a boy, I had been doing extraordinary things, which caused much wonder. Before I could walk, I could play on the piano, with one finger, any tunes that I heard, then, gradually, with all fingers, even the complex melodies played by blind Mr. Maynard, who, to me, was the greatest man in all the world.Mr. Maynard lived in the dark but walked and talked with God in the Light. And what the soul of Creation told his Soul, he told me – and I walked and talked with God in those early days in His wonderlands of Peat Meadow and the huge oaks down in Bachelder’s wilds where nobody went but me, for no one else in all My World heard what I heard there – nor saw what I saw there – so it was mine alone, all that glory just mine alone.
Walter Russell

Psalm 19:1
The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament sheweth his handywork.

To run,

barefoot,

over the hills.

Through the woods: into the meadow,

splashing in the clear streams.

Chasing the rainbow,

marvelling at it's splendor.

Hear the "mocking bird".

Gazing up at the peaceful sky,

so filled with stars.

Life so uncluttered,

peace reigns.

The lowing of the cows,

as they wind their way to their offspring.

So adored by the children.

All noises,

the noise of life.

Life in a setting of,

of contentment,

of satisfied souls at peace with all,

with life.

Now the dinner bell rings,

or is it?

Startled,

reverie broken;

what now?

Life quickens-

time truly doth have wings!

Pass on,

pass on,

but remember-

thy thirst is quenched each moment,

will sometime be a new memory.

by

James Gargus

The Present

I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service.
Romans 12:1

Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room. One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs. His bed was next to the room's only window. The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back. The men talked for hours on end. They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation. Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window. The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside. The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake. Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance. As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene. One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by. Although the other man could not hear the band, he could see it in his minds eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words. Days, weeks and months passed. One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep. She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away. As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone. Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside. He strained to slowly turn to look out the window beside the bed. It faced a blank wall. The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window. The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.. She said, 'Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.' Epilogue: There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations. Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled. If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can't buy. 'Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present '

Inspiring Christmas Story - Gold Wrapping Paper

And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down, and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.

Matthew 2:11

I received this from a friend who had a choice to make. It said that I had a choice to make too. I've chosen. Now it's your turn to choose. The story goes that some time ago a mother punished her five year old daughter for wasting a roll of expensive gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and she became even more upset when the child used the gold paper to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift box to her mother the next morning and then said, 'This is for you, Mummy.' The mother was embarrassed by her earlier over reaction, but her anger flared again when she opened the box and found it was empty. She spoke to her daughter in a harsh manner 'Don't you know, young lady, when you give someone a present there's supposed to be something inside the package?' She had tears in her eyes and said, 'Oh, Mummy, it's not empty! I blew kisses into it until it was full.' The mother was crushed. She fell on her knees and put her arms around her little girl, and she begged her forgiveness for her thoughtless anger. An accident took the life of the child only a short time later, and it is told that the mother kept that gold box by her bed for all the years of her life. Whenever she was discouraged or faced difficult problems she would open the box and take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there. In a very real sense, each of us, as human beings, have been given a Golden box filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, family, friends and GOD. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

The Secret Path

Hast thou heard the secret of God?

Job 15:8

The Secret One day, one friend asked another, 'How is it that you are always so happy? You have so much energy, and you never seem to get down.'

With her eyes smiling, she said, 'I know the Secret!' 'What secret is that?' To which she replied, 'I'll tell you all about it, but you have to promise to share the Secret with others.'

'The Secret is this: I have learned there is little I can do in my life that will make me truly happy I must depend on God to make me happy and to meet my needs. When a need arises in my life, I have to trust God to supply according to HIS riches. I have learned most of the time I don't need half of what I think I do. He has never let me down. Since I learned that 'Secret' , I am happy.'

The questioner's first thought was, 'That's too simple!' But upon reflecting over her own life she recalled how she thought a bigger house would make her happy, but it didn't! She thought a better paying job would make her happy, but it hadn't. When did she realize her greatest happiness? Sitting on the floor with her grandchildren, playing games, eating pizza or reading a story, a simple gift from God.

Now you know it too! We can't depend on people to make us happy.. Only GOD in His infinite wisdom can do that. Trust HIM! And now I pass the Secret on to you! So once you get it, what will you do?

YOU have to tell someone the Secret, too! That GOD in His wisdom will take care of YOU! But it's not really a secret... We just have to believe it and do it.. Really trust God!

Just Pass It On! For this is The Secret Path God wants us to travel.

Heart

And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart:

Deuteronomy 6:6

'Be kinder than necessary because everyone you meet is s fighting some kind of battle.' ======================================================================= A sharp tongue can cut my own throat. If I want my dreams to come true, I must not oversleep. Of all the things I wear, my expression is the most important. The best vitamin for making friends..... B1. The happiness of my life depends on the quality of my thoughts. The heaviest thing I can carry is a grudge. One thing I can give and still keep...is my word. I lie the loudest when I lie to myself. If I lack the courage to start, I have already finished. One thing I can't recycle is wasted time. Ideas won't work unless ' I ' do. My mind is like a parachute...it functions only when open. The 10 commandments are not a multiple choice. The pursuit of happiness is the chase of a lifetime! It is never too late to become what I might have been. Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right.. Forget about the one's who don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it. Friends are like balloons; once you let them go, you might not get them back. Sometimes we get so busy with our own lives and problems that we may not even notice that we've let them fly away. Sometimes we are so caught up in who's right and who's wrong that we forget what's right and wrong. Sometimes we just don't realize what real friendship means until it is too late.

The House That Love Built

Through wisdom is an house builded; and by understanding it is established:
Proverbs 24:3

Walking up the steps of the long front porch I remember.Remembering the beginning stages of my young life, and the house that love built.Just like watching my father pour and form the concrete,my childhood took time to be mixed and poured to take the shape God wanted.But now I see where the concrete has cracked and chipped.Blazing summers and cold merciless winters have left their mark.Yet,it remains.A testament to my father's craftsmanship.I remain,cracked and chipped though.A far cry for the young boy I was.

That cement when it was poured was strong and tough.As it dried out and cured it got harder.So is a young man in his prime.I bend down to look at the handprints.One is mine,and one is my brothers.I look at my hands,and they are all that remain of that time.He is gone on to be with Dad and mine are left scarred and bruised from years of work and worry.

Foundations hold up a house,just like memories hold you up in times you feel alone.

Circling around the corner I see a tree.Underneath that old oak tree,my favorite dog is buried.And that tree could be seen from my small back bedroom window.I was excited to watch the walls go up on the house.I ran and played through the frame of the house.Playing chase in the maze of boards.Trying to find each other in our little game of hide and go seek.Dad looked up with his hammer in his hand and smiled.Realizing what he was working so hard for.Nail by nail,and board by board he built the house that built me.

Walls seperate and doors hide us from each other.Sometimes I don't when to stop building up around me.Entering into house,down the hallway to my room,I hear my mother's voice.She calls out for me to leave the door open to my room, so she can hear me if I need her while we played.As I became an independent minded teenager,I wanted the door shut cause I had it all worked out.The older I got the more I realized with each hand I let go,I felt a door shut that I couldn't leave open anymore.I wish to God I had more time to leave more doors open.But time is just finite.I shut more doors with my mouth than I leave open...

I look for myself among the things that this old house has stored in it.I go from room to room searching for me.I thought if I could just touch something or feel it,the brokenness inside me might start healing.I got lost in this big,old world and forgot who I am....

Is who I am,lost in here somewhere?

I walk outside and glance at the sky.Clouds roll by.Taking forms and shapes in a child's imagination.Looking upward I saw my Dad working on the roof.He waved down at my brother and I while we played in the front yard.I stopped what I was doing and waved back.Now I look to that same sky and wonder how many times did my father look down from heaven and wave at me.But,I was too busy to even notice.

I expect to see my brother standing beside me waving up to him.But I stand here alone in this yard.My wife honks the horn and says it's time to go.I see my new life before with my children.I wonder if they will look back upon their days like this or have my past mistakes clouded that option?Only time will tell.

My journey has lead me down one of many paths in my soul.At the end of this path lies one of my fondest spots.The spot where the house that love built stands.

To be continued...
by
Lance Gargus

My Quilt

I have decked my bed with coverings of tapestry, with carved works, with fine linen ...

Proverbs 7:16

As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along with all the other souls.Before each of us laid our lives like the squares of a quilt in many piles; an angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life. But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in every day life. I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all. I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color andthe bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened. My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air. Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose; each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been. My angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise. My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn't had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness, and wealth, and false accusations that took from me my world, as I knew it. I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me. And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was. I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.An awe-filled gasp filled the air. I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes. Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ. Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, "Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you."May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through! God determines who walks into your life....it's up to you to decide who you let walk away, who you let stay, and who you refuse to let go."

Author Unknown

Catacombs

I know thy works, and where thou dwellest, even where Satan's seat is: and thou holdest fast my name, and hast not denied my faith, even in those days wherein Antipas was my faithful martyr, who was slain among you, where Satan dwelleth.

Revelation 2:13

A Christian without trials would be like a mill without wind or water. What place should we have for patience, meekness, readiness to forgive, if we had nothing to try us? -John Newton


The catacombs underneath Rome is where the first Christians buried their dead and held their worship services. It was a network of tunnels that hid them in 1AD-5AD from the Roman authorities. The tunnels are filled with early Christian symbols of lives persecuted for what they believed and were willing to die for. Among the dead martyrs bodies are many stories. Some untold, only known by God, others we have the honor of knowing. Here is one such story.


In the catacombs, one day, this Christian who had been sobbing in great sorrow for the loss of his wife went underground to the catacombs. In search of comfort for his aching heart. He walked down the descending stairs with each step heavy. Stopping at the bottom of the stairs he wrote on the wall. He left a message for his beloved wife. Wishing her now a joyful life.


"Sofronia vivas cum tuis"(Oh, Sophronia, may you live with your dear ones).


Traveling on past the stairs, he pauses for a moment. He thinks of her and her new life with our Lord. This time with a shaking hand he scribbles her name. With tears in his eyes he writes his message:


"Sofronia, vivas in Domino" (Oh, Sophronia, may you live in the Lord).


With each step his faith grows stronger that he will see her again. His heart beats faster as he pauses once again. This time in a cubicle on the side of an arcosolium. His hand more steadier, he writes his note:


"Sofronia dulcis, semper vives in Deo" (O sweet Sophronia, you will live forever in God).


At last, he has found him a place to rest. Crying so bitterly along the way, his eyes have become reddened. He doesn't cry for her. But, for himself does he weep. Awaiting for the glorious day, when he shall join her. Hope now springs up in him like a gushing fountain. Love overflows from his heart and he writes now with blessed assurance of the resurrection promised by our Savior:



"Sofronia, vives..." (Yes, Sophronia, you will live).


It is a wonderful expression of human love transcended from this world to the next life. The love they shared for each other and for Christ would continue on. It's a love story of believers. Their assurance that they will see each other again. And his devotion to her and Jesus is truly moving. He acknowledges where both his true loves lie. And he knows and believes that the Lamb has made a way for him to see her once again.


By Lance Gargus

Am I A Fireman Yet?

He that saith he abideth in him ought himself also so to walk, even as he walked.

1 John 2:6

In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up & fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible. The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true. She took her son' s hand and asked,Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up?Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life? Mommy, 'I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up. Mom smiled back and said, 'Let's see if we can make your wish come true. Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fire man Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix . She explained her son's final wish and Asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine. Fireman Bob said, 'Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. 'They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix so we can get them fast.' Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy,dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's' van, and even the fire chief's car.He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible. One night all of his vital signs began to dr op dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.The chief replied, 'We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire?' 'It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room?' About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window--------16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him.

Author Unknown

Orchard Of Heaven

Thy plants are an orchard of pomegranates, with pleasant fruits; camphire, with spikenard,
Song of Solomon 4:1

My younger son, Lance, and I walk out to the back of the house to the orchard one Sunday afternoon.

As we walk, so many memories come back to me. We planted apple, pear, and peach trees in the orchard.

More husband enjoyed walking out there everyday, and sometimes the boys walked with us.

He was a big teaser. He always teased the boys about how the trees were growing. "We'll soon have fruit on them," he picked. Well, being impatient little boys, they checked everyday. After checking everyday, they realized the trees would have to get along bigger before they bore fruit. So they learned that trees have to be taken care, and that it takes time, quite a bit of time, especially, to a 9 and 11 year old to mature. In time, the trees began to bear fruit.

My husband enjoyed going to the orchard to reflect and pray. He also enjoyed sharing his fruit with others. One tree in particular he called a Myrtle tree. He called it that after my mother's love for June apples. My mother was always informed first when the tree was ready for picking. He would gather her up a basket so she could make her famous apple preserves, right behind her famous pear preserves.

My father loved to eat the bounty my husband brought as gifts. Always this was a special time for my family to share in a harvest.

But as time went on I lost my mother, then father, and then my husband. Though they are gone, the orchard trees they loved still stand, and every season they bear fruit. I like to walk the old orchard paths and reminiscence. Walking the old paths gives me the assurance of where they are now. My boys, daughter in law, and grandchildren and I will walk with them again, on a celestial path, beside the crystal sea that feeds the orchard of heaven.

by

Louise Gargus

Wet Pants

Ointment and perfume rejoice the heart: so doth the sweetness of a man's friend ..

Proverbs 27:9

Come with me to a third grade classroom..... There is a nine-year-old kid sitting at his desk and all of a sudden, there is a puddle between his feet and the front of his pants are wet. He thinks his heart is going to stop because he cannot possibly imagine how this has happened. It's never happened before, and he knows that when the boys find out he will never hear the end of it. When the girls find out, they'll never speak to him again as long as he lives. The boy believes his heart is going to stop; he puts his head down and prays this prayer, 'Dear God, this is an emergency! I need help now! Five minutes from now I'm dead meat.' He looks up from his prayer and here comes the teacher with a look in her eyes that says he has been discovered. As the teacher is walking toward him, a classmate named Susie is carrying a goldfish bowl that is filled with water. Susie trips in front of the teacher and inexplicably dumps the bowl of water in the boy's lap. The boy pretends to be angry, but all the while is saying to himself, 'Thank you, Lord! Thank you, Lord!' Now all of a sudden, instead of being the object of ridicule, the boy is the object of sympathy. The teacher rushes him downstairs and gives him gym shorts to put on while his pants dry out. All the other children are on their hands and knees cleaning up around his desk. The sympathy is wonderful. But as life would have it, the ridicule that should have been his has been transferred to someone else - Susie. She tries to help, but they tell her to get out. You've done enough, you klutz!' Finally, at the end of the day, as they are waiting for the bus, the boy walks over to Susie and whispers, 'You did that on purpose, didn't you?' Susie whispers back, 'I wet my pants once too.'

Between The Lines

Holding his hands in mine I ask him,"Which hand do you want to use?" "Left," he says. So I clutch his left one, while trying to shape it in the right way to hold his crayon. Guiding his hand across the paper I try to help him keep between the lines. He's grown so much in three years. No longer looking like a baby, but like his mother's little man. He has his moments, as all children do at that age. Overall he has a good heart like his mom. He looks up at me and grins that mischevous grin. "No, let me lead your hand, son," I say. Still feels strange calling someone son, when that's what I had been called for so long.
Life's roles change so quickly though. The father has a son and then the son becomes the father. Time waits for no man, I know. It doesn't seem that long ago to me I was sitting on my dad's lap coloring. Saying almost the exact same things that once was spoken to me. How funny to consider the way I speak, and even the way I hold my head reminds me of him.
Now my son looks to me for guidance. He tries to follow my footsteps. "God help me, help my stupid self," comes to mind at the very thought of someone following me. My path isn't straight, more like one step forward, two to the left, five to the right, three back, and then right on my face.
Never have been much of a leader. And being a father scares me to death. Every move I make for better or worse is scrutinized by young eyes.
What dark blue eyes he has, too. He's always looking for an opportunity to show love to someone. The first hint from a person that they are going to be receptive to him, he's off. Arms wide open and always with a kiss on the cheek, he comes. One lady, at a restaurant, upon recieving one of his classic hugs, remarked,"Wouldn't it be great if we all could love like that?" How right she is. A child's love like that is unconditional. Maybe there is some part of me, long forgotten by me, at his core. It could be, like I referenced earlier, his mom's caring heart. I like to think the latter.
Looking at the clock I see it's time for me to go to work. "Gotta go, buckaroo," comes my good bye. "But, I'll miss you," is his reply. Now what I can say to that except choke up. "I'll miss you, too." He holds on a little tighter, laying his head on my shoulder. Boy, I tell you, it's hard to put him down after that. I hand him to my wife. And with a kiss good bye I leave.
Backing out of the driveway he waves, another moment in my memories. Oh, how fleeting are those moments. What kind of impact am I making in his life? Will I be able to keep between the lines to lead him?
I bow my head,"Father, oh Father, how can I lead, when I don't even know where this road leads in the end?"
Feeling a hand on mine as I hold the steering wheel, my answer comes. The answer comes in a voice so simple and low. The voice is from so long ago. Learning to drive my father said,"It's a long, narrow road. Only the good Lord knows where it leads in the end, but you've got to begin. Don't worry, if you need me, I'll help you keep it between the lines." And so life begins again, as my soul searching continues between the lines. The lines are God and us, and between them is Jesus. (For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; 1 Timothy 2:5)by
Lance Gargus

Bible Prophecy-Will America Be Sleeping?

Lest coming suddenly he find you sleeping.
Mark 13:36

"There is a famine in America. Not a famine of food, but of love, of truth, of life."
Mother Teresa

I wondered as I sang Silent Night, Holy Night to my children. I thought about what they would be missing as they drifted off to sleep. On that night in Bethlehem, I wondered if the people even realized that a King was among them as they slept.The King had left his throne. He sleeps in a manager cause noone would take him in. On this day, God stepped down to become a man. You will go down in history as a city with no room for its King.

What about Jerusalem? Have you went to sleep and can't hear the sounds of the hammers, the sounds of the crowds, and the sounds of pain and agony. The Savior of the world is dying on your cross today. You will go down in history as a city with no room for its King.

Back to where I am with my kids in my small town. As I get sleepy, I wonder about what sings me to sleep in this country of the United States of America. The sounds of philosophies sing us to sleep of save the trees and kill the children.While lying in the dark there'll be a shout across the eastern sky. The bridegroom has come and carried his bride away in the middle of the night.

Will Jesus leave us slumbering as a nation with no room for its King? Will we be too busy sleeping and dreaming about the new house, new cars and trucks, new boats, new fishing equipment, new golf clubs, new vacation you plan, the brand new place of worship built to outdue the church up the road?

Is this what will happen to us? Will we be lulled to sleep by the materialism of this world? As we push our children to become great athletes and to be like them, and we push our children to achieve the highest IQ they can muster, and teach them to want to be the richest person, no matter what price they pay.

Or,or, do we instill Christ's principles of civility, kindness, compassion, sportsmanship, chivalry, respect, and most importantly love. Teach them to be children of character like our Lord.

Maybe those particular kids with Christ's character can rouse us from our deep sleep so we can see our one and only King, before he returns.
by
Lance Gargus

Rain On The Windshield

When heaven is shut up, and there is no rain, because they have sinned against thee; if they pray toward this place, and confess thy name, and turn from their sin, when thou afflictest them:

Then hear thou in heaven, and forgive the sin of thy servants, and of thy people Israel, that thou teach them the good way wherein they should walk, and give rain upon thy land, which thou hast given to thy people for an inheritance.

1 Kings 8:35-36





One rainy afternoon I was driving along one of the
main streets of town, taking those extra precautions
necessary when the roads are wet and slick.
Suddenly, my daughter spoke up from her relaxed
position in her seat. "Dad, I'm thinking of something."

This announcement usually meant she had been pondering
some fact for a while, and was now ready to expound all
that her six-year-old mind had discovered. I was eager to hear.

"What are you thinking?" I asked.
"The rain," she began, "is like sin, and the
windshield wipers are like God wiping our sins away."

After the chill bumps raced up my arms ! I was able to
respond. "That's really good, Aspen."

Then my curiosity broke in. How far would this
little girl take this revelation? So I asked.
"Do you notice how the rain keeps on coming?
What does that tell you?"

Aspen didn't hesitate one moment with her answer:
"We keep on sinning, and God just keeps on forgiving us."
I will always remember this whenever I turn my wipers on.

Deck Of Cards

Thou therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ.

2 Timothy 2:3

It was quiet that day, the guns and the mortars, and land mines for some reason hadn't been heard.

The young soldier knew it was Sunday, the holiest day of the week.

As he was sitting there, he got out an old deck of cards and laid them out across his bunk.

Just then an army sergeant came in and said, 'Why aren't you with the rest of the platoon?'

The soldier replied, 'I thought I would stay behind and spend some time with the Lord'

The sergeant said, 'Looks to me like you're going to play cards.'

The soldier said, 'No, sir. You see, since we are not allowed to have Bibles or other spiritual books in this country,

I've decided to talk to the Lord by studying this deck of cards.'

The sergeant asked in disbelief, 'How will you do that?'

'You see the Ace, Sergeant? It reminds me that there is only one God.

The Two represents the two parts of the Bible, Old and New Testaments

The Three represents the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost.

The Four stands for the Four Gospels: Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.

The Five is for the five virgins there were ten but only five of them were glorified.

The Six is for the six days it took God to create the Heavens and Earth.

The Seven is for the day God rested after making His Creation.

The Eight is for the family of Noah and his wife, their three sons and their wives -- the eight people God spared from the flood that destroyed the Earth.

The Nine is for the lepers that Jesus cleansed of leprosy.. He cleansed ten, but nine never thanked Him.

The Ten represents the Ten Commandments that God handed down to Moses on tablets made of stone.

The Jack is a reminder of Satan, one of God's first angels, but he got kicked out of heaven for his sly and wicked ways and is now the joker of eternal hell.

The Queen stands for the Virgin Mary.

The King stands for Jesus, for he is the King of all kings.

When I count the dots on all the cards, I come up with 365 total, one for every day of the year.

There are a total of 52 cards in a deck; each is a week - 52 weeks in a year.

The four suits represent the four seasons: Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter.

Each suit has thirteen cards -- there are exactly thirteen weeks in a quarter .

So when I want to talk to God and thank Him, I just pull out this old deck of cards and they remind me of all that I have to be thankful for.'

The sergeant just stood there. After a minute, with tears in his eyes and pain in his heart, he said, 'Soldier, can I borrow that deck of cards?'

Author Unknown

Rich And Poor

The LORD maketh poor, and maketh rich: he bringeth low, and lifteth up.
1 Samuel 2:7

"Since much wealth too often proves a snare and an incumbrance in the Christian's race, let him lighten the weight by 'dispersing abroad and giving to the poor'; whereby he will both soften the pilgrimage of his fellow travelers, and speed his own way the faster."

Toplady, Augustus

The 12 room house is too small, the cadillac is two years old;
The maid wants more off days, the butlers wants a raise,
And me worried sick about the price of my gold.
While the beggar on the corner pleads his living!

Interest, Dividends are going up on my Stocks and Bonds and on my Bank Account;
but to a man of my stature and my importance
it seems such a piddling amount!

While a widowed mother of
5 children, destitute, homeless,
moans, "Is this life?"

But the Master of Old, had neither
silver nor gold, no place to lay his head,
Boats, hilltops, the wilderness his pulpits,
a manger his only known bed.

Such as he had he gave unto man,
All things in his hands for the giving,
peace his goal, the Savior his role,
Set the perfect example by his living;
While those will, may say,"Here is life!"

by
James Gargus

Hide And Seek

And they heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day,... hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, "Where are you?" Genesis 3:8-9

I have been living in this house almost since the day I was born.

At times, these walls have seen me happy, other times it has seen me torn. They've had a front row seat to the breaking of my heart.

I remember running down the hallway with my brother playing hide and seek.

I didn't know I was searching for You, Heavenly Father, to notice me.

Sometimes I felt alone and undiscovered as children at that age often due.

I felt alone in a crowd, when I was really seeking You.

I want answers from You.

I ask,"Why do love ones have to die?"

No answer. I seek but never find.

The answer speaks to my heart of why and then I see You.

I see You, and I am the thorn in Your crown.

I see You, and I am the sweat from Your brow.

I see You, and I am the nail in your wrist.

I see You, and I am Judas' kiss.

See now, I am the man who yelled out from the crowd for Your blood to be spilled on this earth shaking ground.

And then, I turned away with this smile on my face, with this sin in my heart, trying to bury your grace, as I am the stone rolled in front of Your tomb.

Yet, in spite of this, alone in the night, I still called out for You and ask, "Why?" I am so ashamed of my life and the reasons I doubt.

By this I am stilled.

In that moment, I feel a gentle breeze on my face carrying Your answer to me.... "Trust child, I love you anyways." by Lance Gargus

Lance, The Light Spear

But one of the soldier's with a spear pierced his side, and forthwith came out blood and water.
And again another scripture saith, They shall look on him whom they pierced.
John 19:34;37Lance, the name means latin for,"a light spear." This spear was a tool of war and used in many ancient armies. A weapon of choice for Rome's army at the time of Christ. Cassius as he is called by some historians or Longinus by others was the one according to tradition who pierced the side of Christ. As he was on the cross, the soldier took the lance and jabbed it into him to make sure he was dead. Blood and water flowed from his side healing the soldier of an eye illness. He later became one of the early converts.
Now the "Holy Lance" or "Spear of Destiny" as it's been called has gone through many hands. Some claim whomever has ownership of it that their army can't be defeated. So many rulers and leaders have sought the lance. However,scholars have debated it's authenticity. Others still consider it a holy relic.
I think we all have missed the point. Though it was just one person who pierced Christ's side, why does it say,"They shall look upon him whom they pierced."?
We all held that spear, everyone of us. My name makes it especially clear to me, Lance, or logche as it is known in Greek. I pierce his side everyday. I relive that moment when I fail my Lord. My sin wounds him. Driving into his side deeper each time. The sin seperating me from him, trying to make him dead in my life. So blind this sin makes me. Just as the soldier was losing his eyesight, my failings blind me a little more.
In the midst of his sacrifice, I put in the final insult. How could he love someone who does him so wrong? Yet, love flowed from his wounded side; healing me of my blindness, restoring my sight, helping me to see. Blood and water washing over my face to light eyes long kept in darkness. Some how my shortcomings lead me back to the cross. And I fall upon my face to behold the true extent of the damage I do to my king. Hanging there for all the world to see my shame. I drop the spear from my hands. Sick to my stomach of what I have done. Wondering and trembling at a love so amazing. Tears, moans, cries cannot express the suffering I have caused him. These hands held the lance that not just pierced his side but his heart.
God, have mercy upon me. I am resposible for the jabbing of your son's side. He asks You to forgive me and You do. This love I cannot comprehend, nor wrap my mind around. All I know is that my sacrifice is small compared to His.
Jesus, as my body is broken through the years of my soul searching, and as the pain comes on with the wear and tear of time. May this be an offering of love to You.
Amen.by
Lance Gargus