The Pet Rattlesnake

A newspaper told the story of a man in Arkansas who had a pet rattlesnake. The man found the snake as a baby. He took it, fed it, and made it a pet. 

The reptile would come when he whistled, it would eat from his fingers, and it would coil around his arm and let him stroke its head with the palm of his hand or with the tips of his fingers. 

One day he took the snake to town to show it to his friends. They marvelled at its gentleness –marvelled that it would eat from his hand. Satisfied that he had impressed his friends the man went back home with his pet snake. 

When he arrived home, suddenly, with only the slightest provocation, the reptile became angry. That “pet” rattler buried its fangs into the man’s arm. In a few hours, the man was dead. In one quick instant, through that “friendly” serpent’s poisonous fangs, that man met death! 

Two days after that, this man who should have been sitting with his family in their humble but happy home was sleeping in the mud of an Arkansas grave. 

With such dread cometh such an hour to every man and woman who makes a pet of sin! 

(Robert G. Lee, Whirlwinds of God).

The Other Side of The Door

A very sick man, visiting a small-town clinic, turned to his doctor, as he was leaving the room after paying a visit, and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side." 

Very quietly the doctor said, "I don't know." 

"You don't know?" the man said. 

"You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"

The doctor was holding the handle of the door, on the other side of which came a sound of scratching and whining. As he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness. 

Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear."

"I know little of what is on the other side of death," the doctor continued, "but I do know one thing: I know my Master is there, and that is enough. And when the door opens, I shall pass through with no fear, but with gladness."

Keep Your Fork

A woman was diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. As she was getting her things in order, she contacted her pastor and asked him to come to her house to discuss some of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at her funeral service, what Scripture verses she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in. She requested to be buried with her favorite Bible.

As the pastor prepared to leave, the woman suddenly remembered something else. "There's one more thing," she said excitedly.

"What's that?" said the pastor.

"This is important," the woman said. "I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand."

The pastor stood looking at the woman, not knowing quite what to say.

The woman explained. "In all my years of attending church socials and potluck dinners, when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, 'Keep your fork.' It was my favorite part of the meal because I knew something better was coming—like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie.

"So, when people see me in that casket with a fork in my hand and they ask, 'What's with the fork?' I want you to tell them: 'Keep your fork. The best is yet to come!'" 

(Alan Carr, Biblical Facts about a Place Called Heaven, via Sermons.com newsletter)

The Other Side

A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side." Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know."
"You don't know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"

The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side of which came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.

Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear.

I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing ... I know my Master is there and that is enough."

Do not be afraid, Jesus said, "I will never leave you."

A Sign In The Heavens

Ziglar's Cloud

The daughter of Zig Ziglar reminds us that even at the darkest times we are given reason to rejoice.

By Julie Ziglar Norman, Alvord, Texas
I’d turned on the car radio for the long drive home that afternoon last November. My favorite preacher was on, but I wasn't really paying attention. My mind was on my father. I’d just visited him at the nursing facility where he’d been for the past few months, his health failing.

He was 86. His spirit remained strong but the light in his eyes had dimmed and I had to wonder if this was the last time we’d see each other. My dad, the motivational speaker Zig Ziglar, was known the world over for his energy, optimism and faith. The interesting thing is, he came to that faith in his mid-forties.

It was the night of July 4, 1972, not long after he left a successful career as a salesman to pursue public speaking full time. He’d grown up in a church-going family but he had more doubts than belief.

That night he was out in his swimming pool when he was struck by the urge to pray, as his friend Sister Jessie had been encouraging him to do. Was God real? he asked. Was he truly present in our day-to-day lives? Dad lay back in the water and stared up into the heavens.

All at once a shooting star streaked across the sky. He was startled and elated. A warmth filled him, like the light from the star. He knew with the utmost certainty the answers to his questions. And he knew that he needed to share not just his energy and optimism in his speeches but his faith.

Dad often talked about the sign he saw. Maybe that’s why I looked up myself that afternoon, driving home from visiting him. Clouds were skimming across the Texas sky. Then I saw it, a cloud in the unmistakable shape of a Z.

Z for Ziglar.

I pulled over, grabbed my cell phone and took a picture. It wasn't till later that I realized the camera function must have been set to video. I showed the recording to my brother and sister when we were keeping vigil in Dad’s hospital room. He’d been rushed there on Thanksgiving with pneumonia.

“We’re sorry, but there’s no hope,” the doctors told us. Dad would have argued that meeting his savior was more than hope enough. My prayers were for his time on earth to end peacefully. That was how he died six days later, in his sleep.

The family met to plan the funeral. Dad had spelled out exactly what he wanted for the “big church memorial,” as he called it—down to which Bible passages to read and which songs to sing. But for the private graveside service that would come first, he gave free rein to his pastor, Jack Graham.

Someone suggested that we get a better quality image of the Z cloud for the memorial program. I found the video on my phone and pressed “play.” Who was talking in the background? I hadn't noticed it before.

I turned up the volume—it was the preacher from the car radio. He was quoting from I Thessalonians 4:13–18: “Brothers and sisters, we do not want you to be uninformed about those who sleep in death, so that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope...”

Hope. That was what Dad was all about. “Hey, y’all, listen to this,” I said to my family and played the video again. We’d have to tell Pastor Graham about this after the graveside service. He would be as moved as we were.

The next morning we gathered at the cemetery. “Years ago I committed to memory certain Bible verses,” Pastor Graham began. “Verses that I believe God wants me to share with you today.” He started quoting the Scripture.

My brother and I looked at each other, stunned. Then we said quietly along with Pastor Graham, “...that you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him.”

Dad was in his eternal home, and like Dad, I had looked to the heavens and had seen a sign telling me with the utmost certainty that I would see him again.

Article from Guideposts

http://www.guideposts.org/inspiration/stories-of-hope/a-sign-in-the-heavens?utm_source=Inspirational%20Roundup&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=2013-6-29_nl_a-sign-in-the-heavens

Of Darkness and Shadows

I would rather walk with God in the dark than go alone in the light.
Mary Gardniner Brainar

When a dark shadow looms large in your life, never fear it. For there is a Great Light behind it.
Albert Kang

The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow.
George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings

What would your good do if evil didn't exist, and what would the earth look like if all the shadows disappeared?
Mikhail Bulgakov

... there are shadows because there are hills.
E.M. Forster, A Room with a View

Just as tall trees are known by their shadows, so are good men known by their enemies. 

Chinese Proverb

Death is but a shadow! We rather be hit by the shadow of the lorry than by the lorry itself. Are we afraid of the speeding shadow of the lorry? Never! Should we then be afraid of death? Should not! Like David, we can all say, "yeah, though I walk through the shadow of the valley of death, I shall fear no evil, for God, you are with me." Psalm 23.
Albert Kang

Keep your face always toward the sunshine - and shadows will fall behind you.

Walt Whitman

See You In The Morning

Dr. W. A Criswell, Pastor of the First Baptist Church of Dallas Texas, said on one occasion on an airplane flight he found himself seated beside a well-known theologian. 


He desperately wanted to start a conversation and they did get to talk. The man told Dr. Criswell about how he had recently lost his little boy through death. 


Dr. Criswell listened as he told his story: He said he had come home from school with a fever and we thought it was just one of those childhood things, but it was a very virulent form of meningitis. The doctor said we cannot save your little boy. He'll die. 


And so this seminary professor, loving his son as he did, sat by the bedside to watch this death vigil. 


It was the middle of the day and the little boy whose strength was going from him and whose vision and brain was getting clouded said, "Daddy, it's getting dark isn't it?" The professor said to his son, "Yes son it is getting dark, very dark." 


Of course it was very dark for him. He said, "Daddy, I guess it's time for me to go to sleep isn't it?" 


He said, "Yes, son, it's time for you to go to sleep." 


The professor said the little fellow had a way of fixing his pillow just so, and putting his head on his hands when he slept and he fixed his pillow like that and laid his head on his hands and said, "Good night Daddy. I will see you in the morning." 


He then closed his eyes in death and stepped over into heaven. 


Dr. Criswell said the professor didn't say anymore after that. He just looked out the window of that airplane for a long time. 


Then he turned back and he looked at Dr Criswell with the scalding tears coming down his cheeks and he said, "Dr. Criswell, I can hardly wait till the morning." 


Let's face it... 


We will all face trials that will test our patience and faith in God. 


There will be times that we can't explain why we're going through such enormous pain. 


And the only thing that we can do in this situation is... 


...to stay strong in our faith in our creator. 


Keeping your eyes in God requires more time and serious commitment in reading His Words. Because faith is develop by regularly reading and meditating God's Word. 

Denouncing The Devil

The priest was preparing a dying man for his long day's journey into the night. 

Whispering firmly, the priest said, "Denounce the devil! Let him know how little you think of his evil!"

The dying man said nothing. The priest repeated his order. 

Still the dying man said nothing. The priest asked, "Why do you refuse to denounce the devil and his evil?"

The dying man said weakly, "Until I know where I'm heading, I don't think I ought to aggravate anybody."

Can You Trust Your Rope?

Can you trust this rope?

You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death. 

It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. 

Wouldn’t you then first discover how much you really trusted it?

C. S. Lewis

A Grief Observed

Thirteen Tears: A Columbine Legacy

In Death, Rachel Scott Becomes A Powerful Witness For Christ

Rachel Scott was having lunch with a friend outside when the horror began to unfold at Columbine High School near Denver on April 20, 1999.

Two of their classmates, Dylan Klebold and Eric Harris, approached with guns and fired several shots, wounding both.

As the boy lay stunned and Rachel tried to crawl away, Harris lifted Rachel by her hair and asked, “Do you believe in God?”

“You know I do,” she answered.

“Then go be with him,” Harris said, and shot her in the head.

She was the first to die that morning.

Rachel was 17, and in the year before her murder she had grown more committed in her relationship with God.

Like most teenagers, she struggled with things like sexual temptation and alcohol abuse. She was no perfect saint, but something had changed. She had become kinder to others, including those like Dylan and Eric, who were part of the “trench coat mafia” — teens who dressed in black, listened to nihilistic music, played violent video games and hated Christ and Christians.

In an Internet video, Klebold said, “Thank God they crucified that a______.”

Rachel counted the cost of her decision to follow Christ and suffered the deep pain of loneliness when her friends at Columbine turned away from her because of her faith. But she would not go back.

In one of her journal entries, dated April 20, 1998 — exactly one year to the day before she died — she wrote: “I am not going to apologize for speaking the Name of Jesus, I am not going to justify my faith to them, and I am not going to hide the light that God has put into me. If I have to sacrifice everything … I will.”

A few days later, she wrote: “This will be my last year, Lord. I have gotten what I can. Thank you.”

She often told friends she believed she would die young and wouldn’t live long enough to marry or have children.

Sometime after she died, her father, Darrell Scott, received a telephone call from a stranger in Ohio. The man told Darrell “you’ll probably think I’m crazy when I tell you why I called, but I have had a recurring dream about your daughter. …”

In his dream, the man said, he had seen a stream of tears flowing from Rachel’s eyes, and they were watering something, but he couldn’t see what it was.

Would that mean anything to him or his family, the man asked.

No, Darrell said, it didn’t mean a thing. But he took down the man’s number and promised to call if it ever did mean anything.

Darrell had forgotten about the strange message until seven days later when he got a call from the sheriff’s office telling him he could pick up the contents of his daughter’s school backpack, which had been riddled by bullets.

Sitting in his truck, Darrell sorted through Rachel’s belongings and read through her final diary. When he got to the last page, there was a picture Rachel had drawn the morning she was murdered. It was of a pair of eyes crying, and the 13 tears turned to drops of blood as they watered a rose that grew out of a Columbine plant.

Thirteen was the number of victims that Harris and Klebold killed that day before taking their own lives.

I heard Darrell Scott tell this story to a crowd of thousands of teenagers at Ichthus in Wilmore, Ky., in April 2002 — days after a similar deadly rampage at a secondary school in Germany.

He believed his daughter knew she would be used by God for something good. She had said she would touch millions of lives around the world. On the day of her funeral, which was a tribute to her faith, CNN had its largest audience ever.

Rachel believed little acts of kindness could make a big difference as others paid them forward.

“I have a theory that if one person will go out of their way to show compassion, it will start a chain reaction of the same,” she wrote.

After her death, her family found an image of her hand that she had traced on the back of her dresser in which she had written, "These hands belong to Rachel Joy Scott and will someday touch millions of people's hearts."

Ironically, at almost the same time, Eric Harris had also used the phrase “chain reaction” in one of his hate-filled messages: “We need to start a revolution,” he said. “We need to get a chain reaction going here.”

Some would say these things are coincidences and that it’s naive to think tragedies like Columbine have any meaning. There was a time I would have thought so too. I’m  a journalist with a liberal arts education and therefore prone to skepticism. At times, I have doubted that God exists. But I’ve come to  believe there is a struggle going on in our world between the spiritual forces of darkness and light.

What other explanation could there be for the Holocaust or the horror of Rwanda in 1994, when nearly a million people were butchered by their neighbors? How else could one account for the incredible stories of forgiveness, redemption and grace that followed those tragedies? And how else could the death of a 17-year-old girl in Colorado lead hundreds of young people at a rock music festival in Wilmore to come forward to repent of their sins and choose to be reborn into a more abundant life?

I believe that at the end of this spiritual conflict, Christ will be the victor and will make all things new, as he promised. It is a struggle in which no one can remain neutral. Rachel Scott learned that at a tender age and chose a side.

Which side are you on?

by Randy Patrick

http://kyvoice.com/winchestersun/newerworld/?p=418

General Norman Schwarzkopf's Forgiveness

In an recent interview, General Norman Schwarzkopf was asked if he thought there  was room for  forgiveness toward the people who have harbored and abetted the terrorists who perpetrated the 9/11 attacks on America.

His answer was classic Schwarzkopf.

The General said, "I  believe that forgiving them is God's function .... OUR job is to arrange the meeting."


Woe to those who scheme iniquity, Who work out evil on their beds! (Micah 2:1)

God's Chair

A man's daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The pastor assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. 

"I guess you were expecting me," he said.

"No, who are you?" 

"I'm the new associate pastor at your local church,"  the pastor replied. "When I saw the empty  chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up." 

"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man.  "Would you mind closing the door?" 

Puzzled, the pastor shut the door. 

"I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. 

"But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over  my head. I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said  to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of  having a conversation with Jesus. Here's what I suggest: Sit down  on a chair; place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I'll be  with you always.' Then just speak to him and listen in  the  same way you're doing with me right  now.'  So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day.  I'm careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair,  she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me to off to the  funny farm." 

The pastor was deeply moved by the story and  encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church. 

Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon. 

"Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked. 

"Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, in fact, beyond strange... really weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed." 

The Wish of A Dying Preacher

The old preacher had spent 40 years pastoring in the same church and was highly respected in the community. 

The end of his life was drawing near and as he lay on his death bed he ask for the local banker and the local lawyer to come and spend his last hours with him. 

Both were impressed that they would be ask and discussed amoung themselves what great pearl of wisdom the old pastor wished to share with them. As they enter his room he motioned for one to sit on his left and one on his right. 

As they sat down a great peace came upon the man of God, thirty minutes passed and not a word was spoken. 

Finally the banker leaned forward and ask, "Reverend, we were wondering what great pearl of wisdom you may want to share with us since you called us here."

The old preacher looked at him and replied, "As you know Jesus has been my example all my life, and since he died between two theives I decided that's the way I wanted to go".

The Difference Between Hummingbird and Vulture

Both the hummingbird and the vulture fly over our nation's deserts. All vultures see is rotting meat, because that is what they look for. 

They thrive on that diet. But hummingbirds ignore the smelly flesh of dead animals. Instead, they look for the colorful blossoms of desert plants. 

The vultures live on what was. They live on the past. They fill themselves with what is dead and gone. But hummingbirds live on what is. They seek new life. They fill themselves with freshness and life. 

Each bird finds what it is looking for. We all do.  

Steve Goodier, Quote Magazine, in Reader's Digest, May, 1990.

The Day Before I Die

Showing his friend around his home, Fred started to point out all of the collectibles his wife had acquired over their long years of marriage.

"The day before I die, I'd like to sell every piece she’s got just to see how much it's all worth."

"But you couldn't possibly know the day before you were going to die, so how could you sell it."

"Simple: If I sell it, my wife would kill me!"