A Lesson on Gratefulness

 

A young labourer came to a restaurant one evening to have a meal. The owner engaged him in a conversation and found out that he was saving to bring his family to the city so they could get a chance at a better life. He had an aged mother, a wife and two young sons who he hoped to give a good education so they could have a more decent life. He had just arrived at the city and found some menial work at a scrap metal site down the road. It was going to be his only meal of the day and he could only spend a few cents.

The owner was impressed with his hard work and diligence, and his family values. He encouraged the labourer and wrapped his meal for him. He took his order personally and told him that it would cost him 50 cents.

Several years went by and the labourer stopped at the restaurant every evening to get his one meal of the day and chat with the restaurant owner who always encouraged him and asked about his aged mother, his wife and young sons, and how his plans were going.

Finally, the labourer came by one evening with a happy smile on his face. He had bought a modest house in a good neighbourhood with a good school for his boys and he had just sent for his family to join him. 

The restaurant owner was very happy for him and congratulated him. The labourer then told him that he was in a mood to celebrate and he would be spending an entire 5 dollars on his meal that evening. The restaurant owner told him it was well-deserved, wrapped up his meal and he went on his way home.

When the labourer got home and opened up his meal pack, he was shocked to see that it was the same type of food he had been having every day for the last 6 years. He was very disappointed because he had been looking forward to a feast to celebrate his big achievement. He certainly deserved something better after scrimping on his meals all those years. He was mad at the restaurant owner and felt robbed of his money and his celebration. He felt he had been cheated by his very good friend.

He immediately went back to the restaurant to make his complaint. The restaurant owner had already left and he met one of the staff with whom he was quite familiar.

"Say, John, I think you guys gave me the wrong meal pack today. You see, I got this same type of meal every day for 50 cents but today I am celebrating and decided to spend 5 whole dollars at your restaurant. But I was cheated and got just the same meal as every other day!"

"Well, sir, this is our most expensive meal and it costs 5 dollars!"

It suddenly dawned on the labourer that he had not been cheated at all by his friend. In fact, the restaurant owner had been giving him their best meal which cost 5 dollars for 50 cents and for 6 long years! He felt very ashamed of himself for thinking that his good friend had cheated him.

"It's all a misunderstanding then," he said and turned to leave quickly to hide the tears in his eyes.

"One minute, sir," said the staff. "My boss said you are going to come back and that I am to give you this bag."

When the labourer opened the bag, he found all the 50 cents he had ever spent at this restaurant. Unable to hold back the tear now, he sat down on a bench and wept quite unashamedly.

√ He had judged too quickly.

√ He'd felt entitled and a little prideful because of his sense of arrival.

√ He had repaid kindness with suspicion and anger.

√ He had failed to give proper thanks where it was due.

Why?

Because he was not able to see or recognise the hand that was behind the scene helping him all this time! 

Friends, sometimes because we don't yet have a car, a house and some fine things in life, we fail to recognise and appreciate the simple things that God has blessed us daily. And so we become ungrateful and unappreciative and even to a point of being prejudiced upon. We feel that we are entitled to all these good things and we storm to God and file a complaint. When the Lord allows us to have a little achievement in life, we become all bloated up with pride. And then we start to make more demands from God.

But does God condemn us? Is He mad at us? Does He take back everything because of our foolishness? He does not because He understands how limited we are in our spirit.

Like the owner of the restaurant, God is always giving us His very best. During difficult times, He encourages us. During the time, we stumble and fall, He picks us up. Even when we refuse to acknowledge or appreciate His goodness and kindness, He never stops being gracious and kind to us. We may continue to complain and fret but He is patient to listen. In fact, He keeps His storehouse of blessings open for us and gives us even more than we ever deserve.

At this moment, let us give thanks to the Lord and adopt a heart of gratitude by counting all our blessings.

The 33’: A Beautiful Illustration of the Gospel of Grace

On a Thursday afternoon in August 2010, thirty-three miners were digging, hauling and drilling rock, deep beneath the Atacama Desert, in Chile. A mineshaft above the workers exploded and then collapsed. The 33 Chilean miners were trapped in rubble some three miles underground. For about two weeks, the world assumed the men had died.

Then, 17 days after the collapse, a drill bit returned to the surface with a message taped to it written in bold, red letters: “Estamos bien en el refugio, los 33.” (In English, “We are well in the shelter, the 33 of us.”)

One source records that, “Once the rescuers, and the world, knew that the men were alive, Chile implemented a comprehensive plan to both care for the workers during their entrapment and to rescue the miners from the depths.”

In the same way, when God looked down and saw humanity trapped in the contaminated rubble of sin, He implemented a two-prong rescue plan: First, to sustain us during our entrapment in this fallen world; and second, to rescue us out of this darkness. This is why Jesus left heaven and came to earth, on a rescue operation.

Jesus spoke about this rescue plan when He said, “I have come that you may have abundant (or full) life.” He came from Heaven to give us peace and purpose during our time in this dark world. He also came to rescue us out of the depths entirely. He referred to this escape plan when He said, “My kingdom is not of this world.” He didn’t come to make Rocky Flats into heaven. He came to light the way out of Rocky Flats, to drill to an escape route for you.

This is why Jesus spoke, time and again, of another Kingdom, another world and of “eternal life.” He said, “I go to prepare a place for you…and I will return, to take you there with me” (John 14). And “He who believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.”

The government of Chile spent more than $20 million dollars attempting to retrieve those 33 miners. It spared no expense.

Does $20 million seem like a lot to spend on 33 people? Not if you love the people who need rescue, or especially if you love one of them deeply. In the same way, God so valued and so loved you, that He spared no expense to rescue you. God does not desire for anyone to die in the hopelessness of this contaminated world. (1 Tim. 2:4, Titus 2:11)

“For God so loved the world, that he gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have everlasting life” (John 3:16)

John S. Dickerson

Cast Your Bread Upon The Waters – WHAT DOES IT MEAN?

The homeless 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.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the president. Now go away."

The woman's smile became even broader.

"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.

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."

The manager  was shocked, "Oh..." 

The woman smiled again, "I thought that might make a difference."

She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a laugh. "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 and 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 open to you."

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

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. 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."

How Fast Is Grace?

I have an American friend whose experience gives us some insight into the doctrine of the grace of God. He had just returned from Vietnam where he had served in the US Army. Upon his release he had sufficient funds to fulfill a long-time desire to own a new Jaguar. 

Early one morning he was driving in a remotely populated part of Oklahoma which, he reasoned, was the perfect place to find out how fast the car could go. The speedometer was easing its way past 160 as the powerful sports car reached the top of a small rise. Just beyond, a highway patrolman was waiting. As a law-abiding citizen, my friend slammed on the brakes, slid past the officer at 150 miles per hour, and came to a halt some distance down the road.

Before long, the officer caught up and stood beside the sleek convertible. 

“Do you have any idea how fast you were going?” he inquired. 

“Well, roughly,” was the deliberately evasive reply. “One hundred sixty-three miles per hour!” the officer specified.

“That’s about what I thought,” my friend confessed, somewhat sheepishly. Guilt was obvious, and there was no possible excuse to be offered. My friend could only wait to discover what this fiasco was going to cost. He meekly waited for the officer to proceed. 

To his amazement the patrolman queried, “Would you mind if I took a look at that engine?”

The fine points of high performance automobiles cannot be discussed quickly, so both went on to a coffee shop where they could talk further. 

A while later, both of the men shook hands and went their separate ways. My friend was elated, for the officer had not given him a citation.

That is about as close to grace as one can come on this earth, but it is still not quite up to the standard of biblical grace.

(I say that because biblical grace would be demonstrated only if the patrolman had paid for the coffee.)

The Prositutes and Their Children

The locals had gathered to protest and to threaten to demolish an old and dirty building that housed hundreds of prostitutes and their illegitimate children, a place they regarded as a great shame to the town. But they were in for a greater shame!

A few of the prostitutes stepped forward, pointed to the many fatherless and pitiful children and uttered these few but pungent words:

"Look at these children! Their fathers could be standing among you all now!"

The above incident sounds like a good example in our modern society of the story of the woman caught in adultery but who was rescued and forgiven of her sin by Jesus Christ. (John 8:1-11)

What is more important is not the outcome of the incident but the moral lessons it embodies. We are to be compassionate, merciful and forgiving when judging or punishing those regarded as wrong doers, being mindful that we are also fallible human beings.

Crimson Woo

The Broken Pitcher of Milk

One of my favorite illustrations of grace is from the story of a social worker named Henry Moorehouse who lived in the very worst of slum districts in London, England, in the 1800s. 

One evening as he was walking home, Moorehouse saw a little girl carrying a pitcher of milk. Suddenly she fell, and the pitcher slipped out of her hands and shattered. As the milk flowed into the gutter, the little girl began to sob uncontrollably. 

"Honey, don't cry," said Moorehouse as he helped her get up. But the tears would not stop. 

"I'll get a whipping from my mommy," the girl said between sobs. 

"No, you won't. I'll help you put the pitcher back together again," Moorehouse assured her. 

Suddenly the tears stopped. But every time it looked as if Moorehouse would succeed, the pitcher would fall apart again. After several unsuccessful attempts, the girl began crying again. 

In the end, Moorehouse lifted the girl in his arms and carried her to a crockery store, where he bought her a brand-new pitcher. Then he carried her to the store where she had purchased the milk and paid to have the pitcher filled once more. Finally, he carried her home. 

Then Moorehouse asked the little girl if she thought her mother would still whip her. 

"No sir," she smiled. "This pitcher is much nicer than the one we had before." 

God has done something even greater than this for us. Although we were originally created in His likeness, sin shattered His image within us. We can try to mend that image through good works and religious ritual, but we are broken beyond repair. 

Robert Jeffress

Bearing The Name of Someone Great

Alexander the Great, one of the greatest military generals who ever lived, conquered almost the entire known world with his vast army. One night during a campaign, he couldn't sleep and left his tent to walk around the campgrounds. As he was walking he came across a soldier asleep on guard duty - a serious offense. The penalty for falling asleep on guard duty was, in some cases, instant death; the commanding officer sometimes poured kerosene on the sleeping soldier and lit it.

The soldier began to wake up as Alexander the Great approached him. Recognizing who was standing in front of him, the young man feared for his life.

"Do you know what the penalty is for falling asleep on guard duty?" Alexander the Great asked the soldier. "Yes sir," the soldier responded in a quivering voice. "Soldier, what's your name?" demanded Alexander the Great. "Alexander, sir." Alexander the Great repeated the question: "What is your name?" "My name is Alexander, sir," the soldier repeated. A third time and more loudly Alexander the Great asked, "What us your name?" A third time the soldier meekly said, "My name is Alexander, sir." Alexander the Great then looked the young soldier straight in the eye.

"Soldier," he said with intensity, "either change your name or change your conduct."

We who carry the name of Christ and call ourselves Christian must live up to the name. We are ambassadors for Christ, reconciling the world with God. Let's represent Him! To represent means to give a new introduction. Let's introduce God by the way we live our lives with an attitude that matches his greatness.
 
Dr. Guy & Ilke Peh

More To Follow

A large sum of money was given to Rowland Hill to dispense to a poor pastor. Thinking that the amount was too much to send all at once, Hill forwarded just a portion along with a note that said simply, “More to follow.” In a few days the man received another envelope containing the same amount and with the same message, “More to follow.” At regular intervals, there came a third, and a fourth. In fact, they continued, along with those cheering words, until the entire sum had been received. 

C. H. Spurgeon used this story to illustrate that the good things we receive from God always come with the same prospect of more to follow. He said:

“When God forgives our sins, there’s more forgiveness to follow. He justifies us in the righteousness of Christ, but there’s more to follow. He adopts us into His family, but there’s more to follow. He prepares us for heaven, but there’s more to follow. He gives us grace, but there’s more to follow. He helps us to old age, but there’s still more to follow.” 

Spurgeon concluded, “Even when we arrive in the world to come, there will still be more to follow.”

Source unknown

The Lord's Baseball Game

Bob was caught up in the spirit (where he and the Lord stood by) to observe a baseball game. The Lord's team was playing Satan's team. The Lord's team was at bat, the score was tied zero to zero and it was the bottom of the 9th inning (with two outs). They continued to watch, as a batter stepped up to the plate (whose name was Love). Love swung at the first pitch and hit a single; because, Love never fails.

The next batter was named Faith (who also got a single); because, Faith works with Love. The next batter up was named Godly Wisdom. Satan wound up and threw the first pitch. Godly Wisdom looked it over and let it pass; because, Godly Wisdom does not swing at Satan's pitches -- ball one. Three more pitches and Godly Wisdom walked; because, Godly Wisdom never swings at Satan's throws. The bases were loaded.

The Lord then turned to Bob and told him He was now going to bring in His star player. Up to the plate stepped Grace. Bob said he sure did not look like much! Satan's whole team relaxed, when they saw Grace. Thinking he had won the game, Satan wound up and fired his first pitch.

To the shock of everyone, Grace hit the ball harder than anyone had ever seen. But, Satan was not worried; his center fielder (the Prince of the air) let very few get by. He went up for the ball; but, it went right through his glove, hit him on the head and sent him crashing on the ground. Then, it continued over the fence (for a home run)! The Lord's team won.

The Lord then asked Bob if he knew why Love, Faith and Godly Wisdom could get on base; but, could not win the game. Bob answered that he did not know why. The Lord explained, "If your love, faith and wisdom had won the game, you would think you had done it by yourself. Love, faith and wisdom will get you on base; but, only My grace can get you home. My grace is the one thing Satan cannot stop!"

The Power of Grace

One of my favorite stories is Victor Hugo’s Les Miserables. It centers on the life of a man called Jean Valjean, who was imprisoned during the French revolution for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his starving family. He served 19 years of hard labor and became bitter and angry toward both society and God. 

After his release from prison, Valjean wandered for days begging for food and shelter but received nothing but denials from graceless people who did not want to help a convict. 

Finally, the weary and hungry Valjean arrived at the door of a poor bishop named, Monseigneur Myriel. The bishop invited him in and offered him a hot meal and a warm bed. At the dinner table Valjean bitterly explained his situation but then bragged that with food in his stomach and a night’s sleep in a real bed he would become a new man. 

Instead that night after everyone else was asleep, he decided to rob his gracious host. Valjean was caught by the police with the loots. The police brought him back to the Bishop. However, to Valjean's surprise, the Bishop told the police that the loots were his gifts. To prove his point, the Bishop added two precious candlesticks to his 'gifts'. The thief was so shocked by the Bishop's kindness and mercy that he decided to turn over a new leaf.

To a very relieved Valjean, the Bishop admonished, “Jean Valjean, don’t forget... don’t ever forget. You’ve promised to become a new man. Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil...With this silver I’ve bought your soul. I’ve ransomed you from fear and hatred.”

Well, for the rest of his life Jean Valjean was driven by the truth of that challenge. Because of his experience of the Bishop’s grace, Jean Valjean made his entire life an act of love. He was driven to become an honest laborer and eventually saved enough to buy a factory that provided gainful employment for an entire town...where he was so famous for his generosity and grace that they forced him to become mayor. 

Grace drove him to provide shelter for a dying prostitute and then to devote himself to raising her little girl, Cosette, as his own daughter. Later he faced peril to save the man who loved Cosette, even though he knew it meant returning to prison. 

In short, Valjean’s experience of grace MOTIVATED him to live it. 

One of the reasons I believe Hugo’s story is so much-loved — is the fact that ours is a GRACE-needing world. People hunger for God’s grace. So they are drawn to this story about grace as a moth is drawn out of the darkness toward the light.

Adapted from a sermon by Rev. Mark Adam, Redland Baptist Church

Insulting The Giver

To seek to earn, merit, or purchase salvation is to insult the Giver. 

President Obama speaks at National Prayer Breakfast in 2009

Imagine yourself invited to a banquet in the White House by the president of the United States. 

You are seated at a table that is filled with the choice foods. Every effort is made to give you a most enjoyable evening. At the end of a lovely visit, the president stands at the door to bid you good-bye. 

What do you do? 

As you leave do you press a dime into his hand and say, “Thank you very much for your kindness. I realize it has cost you a lot of money, and I want to help you pay for the meal.” 

Is that the proper response to his kindness? 

On the contrary, it would be a very rude and insulting gesture. 

So it would be with God’s grace. 

(William MacDonald, The Grace of God - Swindoll’s Book of Illustrations, p. 250.)

John Newton Wrote Amazing Grace

In a small cemetery of a parish churchyard in Olney, England, stands a granite tombstone with this inscription: “John Newton, clerk [pastor], once an infidel and Libertine, a servant of slavers in Africa, was, by the rich mercy of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, preserved, restored, pardoned, and appointed to preach the Faith he had long labored to destroy.” 

You may not remember his name, but all of us know the song he wrote as a testimony of his life: “Amazing Grace.” 

(Robert Renberg Jr, Grace Bible Church, Michigan)

More About John Newton

John Newton (1725-1807) was a former English navy midshipman who deserted and eventually became a servant to a slave-trader.  Rescued from servanthood, he was converted to Christianity in 1748 at the age of 23.  For the next six years, Newton commanded a slave ship.  An avid reader, he educated himself by reading the Bible and other classic literature.  Due to ill health, he abandoned the sea and took a job in Liverpool for nine years, during which time he interacted with George Whitefield and John Wesley.  He was ordained to the curacy of Olney in 1764.  

While pastoring in Olney, Newton published hymns, of which his most well-known would become the timeless classic, Amazing Grace.  

During this time he came to deeply regret his his former involvement in the slave trade, and joined forces with William Wilberforce in the campaign for abolition, writing an abolitionist tract in 1787.  Although originally buried in London, work on the subway system threatened his grave, which was subsequently moved to St. Peter & St. Paul Parish in Olney.  The 2006 movie Amazing Grace portrays the story of Wilberforce and Newton in their opposition to slavery.

 

http://www.baptistlife.com/johnnewton.htm

God’s Unmerited Favor

When a person works an eight-hour day and receives a fair day’s pay for his time, that is wage. 

When a person competes with an opponent and receives a trophy for his performance, that is a prize. 

When a person receives appropriate recognition for his long service or high achievements, that is an award. 

But when a person is not capable of earning a wage, can win no prize, and deserves no award-yet receives such a gift anyway-that is a good picture of God’s unmerited favor. This is what we mean when we talk about the grace of God. 

Clip-Art Features for Newsletters, G.W. Knight, p. 53

One Hundred Points

This guy dies and goes to heaven where he meets Peter at the Pearly Gates. Before he can enter Peter gives him a few questions to answer. He has to accumulate 100 points before he can go in.

"So, how often did you go to church?" Peter asks.

"I went every Sunday and Wednesday," replied the man.

"That's one point," answers Peter.

"One point? wow! I figured it would be worth more than that."

"And did you give in the offerings?" asked Peter.

"Yes, I gave 10% of all my income every week," answered the man.

"Well, let's see," answers Peter, "that's worth 3 points. Did you do anything else?"

"Well, right off hand, I can't think of a whole lot. I did mostly what I thought I was supposed to do."

"Well, we'll give you 5 points for good behavior, can't you come up with something else?"

By this time, the man is completely flustered. He finally cries, "Well, I can't come up with anything else. It looks like that no one can enter heaven except by the Grace of God!"

"100 points! Come on in!"

Wit & Wisdom - May 5, 1998

The Red Marble

Read this story. If you are like me, you will learn much from Mr. Miller.

I was at the corner grocery store buying some early potatoes. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller (the store owner) and the ragged boy next to me.

'Hello Barry, how are you today?'

'H'lo , Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. They sure look good.'

'They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?'

'Fine.. Gittin' stronger alla' time.'

'Good. Anything I can help you with?'

'No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas.'

'Would you like to take some home ?' asked Mr. Miller.

'No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with.'

'Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?'

'All I got's my prize marble here.'

'Is that right? Let me see it' said Mr. Miller.

'Here 'tis. She's a dandy.'

'I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red.

Do you have a red one like this at home ?' the store owner asked.

'Not zackley but almost.'

'Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble'. Mr. Miller told the boy.

'Sure will. Thanks Mr. Miller.'

Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me.. With a smile she said, 'There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, when they come on their next trip to the store.'

I left the store smiling to myself, impressed with this man.

A short time later I moved to Colorado , but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering for marbles.

Several years went by, each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died.

They were having his visitation that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts . . . all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket.

Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her, and moved on to the casket.

Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one; each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and reminded her of the story from those many years ago and what she had told me about her husband's bartering for marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket.

'Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim 'traded' them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size.....they came to pay their debt.'

'We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world,' she confided, 'but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho.'

With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles.

The Moral of this story: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds.

Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. May the Lord bless you as you live a life full of kind deeds.

    "...love one another; as I have loved you.... By this all will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another."    John 13:34-35

Carl The Quiet Man

Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very well.

Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp from a bullet wound received in World War II. Watching him, we worried that although he had survived the war, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity.

When he saw the flier at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up.

He was well into his 87th year when the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from the hose?" The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said, "Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile. As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground, dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and his wallet, and then fled.

Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came running to help him. Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it. "Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet. Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking his head.

"Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise up someday." His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.

Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked, "Carl, what are you doing?"

"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry lately," came the calm reply.

Satisfying himself that Carl really was all right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and place.

A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done.

Carl just watched them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went on with his watering. The summer was quickly fading into fall. Carl was doing some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him.

He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches As he struggled to regain his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack.

"Don't worry old man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.

"What's this?" Carl asked.

"It's your stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in your wallet."

"I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would you help me now?"

The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew we could do it. But every time we came and did something to you, instead of yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing love against our hate." He stopped for a moment "I couldn't sleep after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he walked off down the street.

Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist. Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.

He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant corner of the church.

The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."

The following spring another flier went up. It read: "Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flier went unnoticed by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed hands holding the flier. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have me," the young man said.

The minister recognized him as the same young man who had returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor him."

The man went to work and, over the next several years, he tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. In that time, he went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community. But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.

One day he approached the new minister and told him that he couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him home on Saturday."

"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's name?"

"Carl," he replied.

That's the whole gospel message simply stated.

Cleaning With Killer Soaps

At their school carnival, our kids won four free goldfish (lucky us!), so out I went Saturday morning to find an aquarium. The first few I priced ranged from $40 to $70. Then I spotted it--right in the aisle: a discarded 10-gallon display tank, complete with gravel and filter--f or a mere five bucks. Sold! Of course, it was nasty dirty, but the savings made the two hours of clean-up a breeze. 

Those four new fish looked great in their new home, at least for the first day. But by Sunday one had died. Too bad, but three remained. Monday morning revealed a second casualty, and by Monday night a third goldfish had gone belly up. 

We called in an expert, a member of our church who has a 30-gallon tank. It didn't take him long to discover the problem: I had washed the tank with soap, an absolute no-no. My uninformed efforts had destroyed the very lives I was trying to protect. 

Sometimes in our zeal to clean up our own lives or the lives of others, we unfortunately use "killer soaps"-- condemnation, criticism, nagging, fits of temper. We think we're doing right, but our harsh, self-righteous treatment is more than they can bear.

Richard L. Dunagin

Our Weakness And His Strength

The folklore surrounding Poland's famous concert pianist and prime minister, Ignace Paderewski, includes this story:

A mother, wishing to encourage her young son's progress at the piano, bought tickets for a Paderewski performance. When the night arrived, they found their seats near the front of the hall and eyed the majestic Steinway waiting on the stage.

Soon the mother found a friend to talk to, and the boy slipped away. When 8pm arrived, the spotlights came on, the audience quieted, and only then did they notice the boy up on stage sitting at the bench, innocently picking out, "Twinkle, twinkle little star."

His mother gasped, but before she could retrieve her son, the master appeared on the stage and quickly moved to the keyboard. 

"Don't quit - keep playing," he whispered to the boy. 

Leaning over, the master reached down with his left hand and began filling in the bass part. Soon his right arm reached around the other side, encircling the child, to add a running obligato. Together, the old master and the young novice held the crowd mesmerized.

In our lives, unpolished though they may be, it is the Master who surrounds us and whispers in our ear, time and time again,"Don't quit, keep playing." And as we do,he augments and supplements until a work of amazing beauty is created.