I'm Not Finished With You Yet

I was born in late September in Tennessee.The humidity was still high from August.Doctor said I was lucky to be alive.Severe allergies and all you I'm afraid was rough on my tiny body.Finally,got to go home.

And since then I've been in trouble since the day I got here.I'll be in trouble until the day I disaapear.On that day I'll finally get it right.

Dad always said," There's hope for you yet.God has got plans for you. Just have to wait and see."

In school I was never that good.I talked too much and trouble always followed me.I become the walking, hopeless fool as far as others were concerned.I don't know how but I made it through.

Still wondering why I'm here.I deal with the fear of my uncertainty.Will I prove them all wrong?I don't know.But I've seen enough to know that I'm not here for nothing.He's up to something.

So I hold on tight to my daddy's words,"Wait and see,he's not finished with you yet."Him and God must see something I can't.The finished product that comes out this mess that is me must take a miracle only God can deliver.He didn't leave me at the beginning, He won't leave me at the end,and all those parts in between both.

by

Lance Gargus

My Daugher-In-Law

My daughter-in-law treats me like a mother. She calls me Mom. We are close to each other. Some people thinks she's my daughter. We go to different places together. But the best place together is when she and I with the whole family go to the house of the Lord.

By

Louise Gargus

The Empty Egg

Eight-year-old Steven was mentally retarded and had many> health problems. His health appeared to be growing worse ever> daily. His teacher was concerned his classmates might stop> identifying with him and loving him as they became more aware> of his differences.> > In April, the teacher asked the class to put together one> plastic Easter egg filled with a small object representing new> life in the Spring. Thinking Steven might not understand (and> not wanting to embarrass him), the teacher had each child> place their egg on her desk so that she could open each one> individually. She needn't have worried.> > The first egg contained a tiny wild flower, which truly was an> indication of new life.> > Next, came a rock and the teacher assumed the rock was> Steven's. Her reasoning was that rocks don't symbolize new> life and growth. But a little boy shouted from the back of the> room that the rock had moss on it, thereby showing new life.> The teacher agreed.> > A butterfly flew out of the next egg and the little girl that> brought it bragged that the butterfly was hers, and how it had> came from a cocoon, symbolizing new life. The teacher agreed> again.> > The fourth egg was empty. The teacher knew this had to be> Steven's egg, and she nervously set it aside, hoping he> wouldn't notice.> > As she began to pick up a different egg, Steven excitedly> announced that the empty egg was his! Hesitating, the teacher> replied, "But it's empty!"> > "That's right," said Steven. "Just like Jesus' tomb was, and> that means new life for everyone!" The teacher was amazed at> Steven's insight and his love for Jesus.> > Later on, at the end of the school year, Steven's condition> worsened and he died.> > At his funeral, the children from his class each placed an> empty Easter egg among the flowers. Many of the adults at> Steven's funeral were puzzled by the appearance of all the> eggs, and the message Steven shared with his classmates was> shared again!> > An empty tomb some two thousand years earlier gave Steven the> hope of a new life! Although the flowers were beautiful, it> was the empty eggs that shared the message of hope in Eternal> Life through Jesus Christ!> > What a wonderful message to share this Easter with those you> love.> > "Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not> here; He is risen!"? Luke 24:5 NIV> > ~

Fight The Hands

And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, and took his journey into a far country,
Luke 15:13

Screaming I break loose from his hands.Fighting, I get away, jumping from his lap. I run as hard as I can paying no attention to where I'm going.
To a four year old, my only thoughts are how I feel in the moment. Tears run down my face mixing in with the rain outside. I stop when I can't see
my house anymore. The spring raindrops make it hard to tell how far I've ran. All I know is I escaped. I wanted that toy and that's all that mattered.
I'm somewhere in a pasture, but I can't tell which way is back home. I'm lost. No moon or stars in the sky to give me light.
The storm worsens as the wind starts to pick up. I can barely stand on my feet. Lightning flashes some illumination so I can see briefly. All I can make out is
dark shapes off in the distance. My heart feels as though it pounds harder with each rumbling of the thunder.Barreling head long, I take flight as fast as I can go.
My feet go sliding on the wet ground. I find myself sliding into a gigantic mud hole. The shapes of the people looking for me are moving further away. I crawl out
of the mud yelling the whole time.
"Here I am, here I am,"my voice shrills.
No way they can hear me over the sound of the storm. I have to reach them.
Adrenaline kicks in and I make my way to the shadowy people. Only their not people, just cattle huddling together under an old tree for shelter.
"What do I do now? They will never find me. Why had I wanted that stupid toy so bad? Why did I act like that when Daddy told me know? Now I will never
see them my family again," my small mind wondered.
So I plopped down on the wet ground a lost boy with no family. Water from the rain and tears from my troubled heart filled my eyes to the point I could no longer make out anything.
And as I sat on my soggy pants, so sure my little world had come to an end, I heard a voice.
"You ready to go home,son?"
I turned to see the one I struggled so hard to get away from. He held out the hands that I had pushed away. Unsure for awhile if I would ever see those hands
again. No longer was I rebellious boy throwing a temper tantrum. I was a wet and sorrowful sight of a little boy, who just wanted to go home to his family. His hands
reached down to pick up his trembling, frightened son.
Now I stand out in the spring rains again. This time I am a man. I let the drops of water streak down my face. Feeling the cool moisture on my skin. And I recall how it felt back
then. Despite it all, I still fight the Hands that try to hold me. Running wildly into the darkness and confusion of my own heart. Chasing shadows and phantoms while the
thunder rolls on in the chambers of my soul. My soul yearns for the silence from the storms of this life. My soul longs for the feeling I felt back then. When my father's
hands came to carry me home.
Dear Father,
I am the rebellious younger son in the far country. I lose sight as I did in that open field of what's important. My self-deception has blinded me to the true reality,Yours.
Unlike him, sometimes I can't find my way back, and You always come looking for me. Help me to help myself. Make in me a new heart that doesn't want to fight the hands that want to hold me
and take me home.
Amen.
by
Lance Gargus