WHY JESUS?
JESUS was born,
that I might be born twice.
HE became poor,
that I might possess wealth.
HE became homeless,
that I might have mansions.
HE was stripped,
that I always should have clothes.
HE was forsaken,
that I always should have friends.
HE was bound,
that I might have perfect liberty.
HE was sad,
that I might have full joy.
HE descended,
that I should be lifted up.
HE became a servant,
that I might be a son forever.
HE was hungry,
that I should always have food.
HE was made sin,
that I should share HIS righteousness.
HE died,
that I should never taste Eternal death.
HE will come down,
that I might go up.
All of this -- that HE might display in me the
riches of HIS grace
and be the companion of God in the heavenlies.
Yesterday
Yesterday has gone away,
Never to return,
So let me live today with joy
While the embers slowly burn...
Yesterday has gone away;
Tomorrow is at hand,
So let me live today with hope,
As I strive to understand...
Yesterday has gone away;
Each moment now is past,
So let me live today with love,
As tomorrow's die is cast...
Yesterday has gone away,
No more to abide,
So let me live today in peace
With the master by my side!
Riding Out The Storms
I'm just riding out the storms of life,
Struggling with the waves.
I can see a light house, beckoning me,
Through this foggy haze.
Jesus is the keeper, there.
He is waiting, patiently,
With His beacon shining, O so bright,
For all the world to see.
And when I reach His lighthouse,
I'll sure feel safe and warm.
I'll throw out my anchor, there,
While He calms this raging storm.
I'll dwell with Him, forever,
In His mansion so divine
And I won't have these storms of life.
They'll be replaced with warm Sonshine.
Jesus Is My Comforter
Jesus is my comforter
When I am feeling fear
I know that He is close to me
His presence is so near
When I'm sinking down so low
And feel I am alone
That's when I hear Him whispering
"My child, you are my own"
I'll walk with you when skies are blue
And when your skies are gray
And even when you think I'm not
I'm with you everyday
When gusty winds are blowing
And the storm clouds gather near
Don't fret my child, and don't forget
That I am always here.
I try to picture His sweet face
And feel His nail...scarred hands
But all I see are tears for me
My Jesus understands
He wraps me in His loving arms
So close to Him...I hide
He is my greatest comforter
And always by my side.
I know my Jesus loves me
And He's there each time I fear
And all my doubts just vanish
When I feel Him-oh so near.
I cannot praise my Lord enough
He walks and talks with me
How could I ever doubt His love
And that He died for me
He is my greatest comforter
This man from Galilee
And I am just astounded that
He loves and comforts me!
From a strictly mathematical viewpoint:
What Equals 100%? What does it mean to give
MORE than 100%?
Ever wonder about those people who say they
are giving more than
100%?
We have all been in situations where someone
wants you to give over
100%. How about achieving 101%?
What equals 100% in life?
Here's a little mathematical formula that might help
you answer these questions:
If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
Is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25
26.
Then:
H-A-R-D-W-O-R- K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%
and
K-N-O-W-L-E-! D-G-E
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5 = 96%
But, A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%
AND, look how far the love of God will take you
L-O-V-E-O-F-G-O-D
12+15+22+5+15+6+7+15+4 = 101%
Therefore, one can conclude with mathematical certainty that:
While Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and
Attitude will get
you there, it's the Love of God that will
put you over the top!
Rugged Faith
Old rugged cross, is the tree that reminds me of the most moving story, the love story of all time. Because of such love in this Gospel, seek I the rugged faith.
Compare it to a rugged Bible. If read as much as one eats, it should be full of hand written notes and marks, highlighted texts, and cornered pages.
If taken around as much as one moves, it should be full of wrinkles on every single page, folded by the sides and edges, and scarred with cuts and tears.
There's something beautiful about an old rugged paper. Those wrinkles show beauty that only Christians would know.
That beauty is due to the fact that it has withstood the trials of life. Against the wear and tear, It has proved itself faithful and strong, overcoming the tests that has destroyed some thinner papers.
Such is a rugged faith, that has withstood the tests of life, against all kinds of sufferings, overcoming them with Hope and Faith in Christ.
The wrinkles on the faith shows the wisdom learned of experience, that only the young and the foolish would mock of; it shows the gentle toughness that tells us that it shall withstand continuous tests of faith.
Yea, such a rugged faith I seek and desire and thus welcomes the sufferings that come along with believing in Christ, for nothing shall tear me apart as I become more and more wrinkled because God shall add more strength within the wrinkles.
Broken Things
My Savior specializes in mending broken things,
He takes the heart that's shattered, and gives it songs to sing.
He pieces it together with His sweet gracious touch;
He mends the heart that's broken because He loves so much.
He mends the broken spirit, then lifts that spirit up,
And pours the oil of gladness into the upturned cup.
The broken lives He reshapes... those lives so wrecked by sin,
When in their crushed condition they turn in faith to Him.
The broken dreams that crumble to ashes at our feet,
That seemed so fair and lovely, that made life taste more sweet.
Those broken dreams He rebuilds and fashions them anew...
Then gives us faith to trust Him to see new dreams come true.
What of the broken plans then? The broken health that comes?
Is He not ever mindful when life's swift pendulum
Dashes to scattered pieces the plans that we have made?
Above it all, He whispers- "I shall come to your aid."
He restores broken spirits, binds broken hearts, and dreams,
Repairs the shattered pages of lives that He redeems.
He stands ready to help us no matter what life brings
Because He specializes in mending broken things!
The Room
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found
myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features
save for one wall covered with small index card files,
which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly
endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my
attention was one that read "People I Have Liked." I opened
it and began flipping cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to
realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.
This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog
system for my life. Here were written the actions of every
moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror,
stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and
exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories;
others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would
look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file
named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have Betrayed."
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird.
"Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have
Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious
in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers."
Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger,"
"Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I
never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there
were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than
I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.
Could it be possible that I had the time in my short life
to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards?
But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my
own handwriting. Each signed with my own signature.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a
chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an
inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card.
I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think
that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my
mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see
this room! I have to destroy them! In an insane frenzy I
yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to
empty it and burn the cards.
But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor,
I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and
pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when
I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot.
Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-
pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I
Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than
those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle
and a small box not more than 3 inches long fell into my hands.
I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that
the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell
on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming
shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-
filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must
lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not
Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as
He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear
to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself
to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He
seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have
to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He
looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that
didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my
hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm
around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't
say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting
at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one,
began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was
"No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't
be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich,
so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was
written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began
to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how
He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard
Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed
His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock
on its door. There were still cards to be written.
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