Baby Boy

Baby Boy

Once there was a son who went his own way at 18.Leaving home he rambled from town to town for years.Never finding what he
was searching for.Trouble with the law and many a failed marriages was left in his wake.His brothers and sisters lost touch with
him.He would call from time to time to let them know about his latest adventure or misadventure.They wouldn't hear from him for months on end.
The other kids either lived close by or stayed in close contact with their mother.This young buck didn't have time.The next fortune
or the next folly lay over the following hill.He called his parents to ask for money when he got into a jam.He only contacted them when he wanted
something, and spoke briefly.The money was always wired to his then current location.
His father had given up all hope over him,but momma said,"Baby boy,will find his way home someday."
Home was the last thing on his mind.
When she spoke of her children to others, she mentioned the one that had a good career,another who had a nice wife,the other who was doing many good
things,but when she spoke of the youngest she simply pointed to him in the family portrait and said,"This one is my baby."
Time passed and one winter night he called his sister from Louisiana to tell her about his new job on an oil platform.He had just blown into town there and was ready
to unwind.
"What's happening, sis?"
"Mom's been sick.The doctors said she might not make it through the night.She's been asking for you."
His response is dead silence.He drops the phone, and immediately revs up his engine.Without hesitiation he's off and running before he has time to think.
But in that period of time between darkness and dusk, he has time to think.And that is what he does.Of all he had been given and never gave back.The late nights
his mother had spent worrying over him, he now understood as the walls came closing in on him.
He approached the hospital just as the sun's rays were coming up.The light hurt his eyes.Frantically, he jumped out even before his car had come to a
complete stop.Rushing in he asked the charge nurse where to find her.She directed him by pointing up the hall.But he knew where she was before she
even lifted her hand.He could hear the sobs.His family was already grieving by the time he got to her side.At that moment,a tough grown man
who had learned to face life head on,cried just like a baby for his mother.
Will you be too late when you get the call to come home?

Holy Spirit,
You are like a mother's prayers calling us home.We become bogged down with what we want in this life.While we forget You.Only calling upon You
when we need something.Speaking to You briefly,only to forget You when we get it.As soon as we get out of trouble, we brag to others about how much fun
we are having.All the while your heart is breaking from worrying over us.Will we be too late one day when Your gone? Forgive me for taking You for granite.
Forgive me for all the grief I have given You.Just as a mother holds her baby boy when his heart is breaking,hold me now as mine breaks over what I have done.
Bring the tears I once knew as a child, when I longed for my mother's embrace.
Amen.
By
Lance Gargus

Cast Your Bread Upon The Waters

The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.


"Leave me alone," he growled...


To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows. "Are you hungry?" she asked.


"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away." The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm.


"What are you doing, lady?" the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone.


Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked..


"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"


The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"


"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."


"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up. "Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."


"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."


Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived.The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by his table.


"What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this, is this man in trouble?"


"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.


"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."


Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."


The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"


"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."


"And do you make a goodly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"


"What business is that of yours?"


I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."


"Oh."


The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"


"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."


"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"


"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice."


The cafeteria manager turned on his heel, "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."


The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.


"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."


She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest She stared at him intently. "Jack, do you remember me?"


Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."


"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."


"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.


"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."


"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble.Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.


"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons.He's the personnel director of my company.


I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet.

If you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."


There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you?" he said.


"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. Thank Jesus... He led me to you."


Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways."Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.


"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And...And thank you for the coffee."





But, if you have missed knowing my LORD and SAVIOR, JESUS CHRIST, you have missed everything in the world.


Have a Wonderful Day. May God Bless You Always.


And don't forget that when you "cast your bread upon the waters," you never know how it will be returned to you.


God is so big He can cover the whole world with his Love and so small He can curl up inside your heart.

I’m not okay, Lord. But I’m still here.

 “Are you ok?” I don’t know how to respond to a question I’ve been asked at many seasons of my life. Just like this February day caught between the warm rays of the sun and the cold wind that makes me zip my coat up. It is a season in life when you hold grief in one hand and gratitude in another. But, at that moment I feel nothing. Numb to the question; just numb to life in general. 

My response to her is,”Are you ok?” She only tears up and stares at the gravestone. My name written in the middle of the engraving. Our son’s name etched before mine on the marker. Our family’s last name written at the end. Pictures of him on the front of the headstone. I wait longing for the picture to speak to me. 

Just like the day I found him. I ran to my son the same as the prodigal’s father ran to him. My story changes from this familiar parable here. In this story, the son is no longer here. I hold him in my arms on that August day. The only cold that day was the warmth of life gone from my son. “Am I ok?” The only words I can say to God while cradling my son is,” Lord God, if this how You felt when You lost Your Son, we should be ashamed. “

Jus like the time when our son broke his arm. I cried there at the hospital for someone to please help me. “Please help my son.” 

But laying in a ditch with him I shouted the same cry of hopelessness to everyone who passed by and just drove on. “Did they just walk by and just go about their day. Oblivious to the Son of God hanging on a cross by the roadway. Did you feel ok that day God? Or was your hear breaking like mine? Did your tears fall as rain to the ground? Were you angry? Or were you just numb?Did anyone in the courts of heaven ask you if you were ok?”

My mind stumbles to the hollow ground I stood on. Looking at row upon row of someone’s loved ones buried here in this sacred dirt. We both look at each other knowing that we are not ok. 

I drop to the ground on my knees as I did that day I found him. 

I remember stopping again at the chapel at the hospital where I wrestled with my faith as I watched my father’s life slip away slowly. Of the prayer I prayed that day. And I repeat it to my Heavenly Father again this same prayer. 

“I didn’t come with lifted hands today. I’ve come with questions I can’t explain. Jesus, some nights I wrestle with the silence. Some days I barely say Your name. I’ve learned how to smile through the hurting. Learned how to stand when I’m afraid. But standing doesn’t mean I’m strong now. It means I only chose to stay. I don’t have the words you would hoped to hear. I don’t have the faith I used to claim. All I have is this one breath and I bring it just to say. Lord, I’m not okay but I’m still here calling out Your name. Still believing You can still hold me. Even when my strength has walked away. I don’t have the answers. I don’t see the road ahead. But I’m not okay, Lord. But I’m still here weeping at Your Holy feet. 

I’ve watched the seasons change without me. Watched the world just keep moving on while I stayed frozen in a moment. Trying to be brave and strong. Some prayers don’t sound like hallelujahs. Some faith is quiet worn and thin. But even doubt can be a doorway……when You meet me where I am.  

Lord I’m not okay but I’m still here…..still reaching through the pain…still trusting You can see me when I can’t see Hope again. I don’t need perfection….I just need Your nearness now. 

I’m not okay, Lord. But I’m still here on my face needing You here.  

If staying is my offering, then take this trembling heart. If breathing is my only prayer…please meet me where You are. I don’t need the healing yet. I don’t need the end made clear. I just need to know you’re still with me while I’m still here and they are there. 

Lord,I’m not okay but I’m still here….held by unseen Grace still learning that Your mercy doesn’t leave when I’m unsaid. I’ll take one step, I’ll say Your name through every doubt and fear. I’m not okay, Lord. 

And if tomorrow finds me stronger. I’ll remember this one truth….You stayed with me in the breaking and You carried me through…I’m still not okay, Lord but I’m still here and You held me is as I held my son, as my earthly father held me through the long night and whispered to me like I did to my son, as my dad whispered to me….it’s gonna be okay…cause I’m still here….”   

Romans 8:26-27 says that the Spirit helps us in our weakness and intercedes for us with “groanings too deep for words” when we do not know how to pray. God, who searches hearts, understands these deep, wordless cries…..

Two Horses Friendship

There is a field, with two horses in it.



From a distance, each horse looks like any other horse.
But if you stop your car, or are walking by, you will notice something quite amazing. Looking into the eyes of one horse will disclose that he is blind. His owner has chosen not to have him put down, but has made a good home for him.



This alone is amazing.

If you stand nearby and listen, you will hear the sound of a bell. Looking around for the source of
the sound, you will see that it comes from the smaller horse in the field.

Attached to the horse's halter is a small bell.
It lets the blind friend know where the other horse is, so he can follow.



As you stand and watch these two horses, you'll see that the horse with the bell is always checking on the
blind horse, and that the blind horse will listen for the bell and then slowly walk to where the other
horse is, trusting that he will not be led astray.

When the horse with the bell returns to the shelter of the barn each evening, it stops occasionally and
looks back, making sure that the blind friend isn't too far behind to hear the bell.




Like the owners of these two horses, God does not throw us away just because we are not perfect or
because we have problems or challenges.

He watches over us and even brings others into our lives to help us when we are in need.

Sometimes we are the blind horse being guided by the little ringing bell of those who

God places in our lives.

Other times we are the guide horse, helping others to find their way....

Good friends are like that... you may not always see them, but you know they are always there.

Please listen for my bell and I'll listen for yours.

And remember.....be kinder than necessary-everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply, Love generously, Care deeply, Speak kindly.... Leave the rest to God.

By James Gargus