Pastoral Resources

Some sailors who were working on a ship in harbor noticed an elderly man engaged in his business on the pier. One sailor laughingly said to another, "You can't make that old man angry no matter what you do to him." The sailor who was addressed immediately took this as a challenge, and snatching up a bucket of dirty salt water ran up to the old man and dashed its contents all over him. The old man backed away at this surprise attack and said in a mild voice, "Young man, the Savior says, 'Whoso shall offend one of these ... that believe in me, it were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck, and that he were cast into the depths of the sea.' Now, since I am one of these who do believe in Him, will He not consider that you have very much offended me?" The sailor turned away quite ashamed and perplexed at the spirit that the injured Christian exhibited. The picture of the old man wet and miserable looking at him with mingled pity and displeasure stayed with him and led him to go back and ask him to forgive him and pray for him. The elderly Christian was very ready to do both, and not long afterward the sailor became a Christian. There is reason to believe that many sinners might be converted from the error of their ways if they were to meet such a spirit, as the sailor did, in every professed Christian whom they might insult or abuse.

Johnny asked Mother, "Can I have some cookies, Mom?" Looking at the clock, she replied, "Not now! It is too close to dinner!"

About ten minutes later, Mother entered the kitchen. There was Johnny up on the counter with his arm in the cookie jar clear up to his elbow. "I thought I just told you, 'No cookies till dinner!'" Johnny's mother fumed. "Well, Mom, I'm not eaten' no cookies! I'm just holdin' some!"

Each of us has some point of vulnerability. It may be a problem with alcohol, or sensuous lusts, or a desire to gamble even to the point of cheating. We often compound our problems by putting ourselves into untenable positions and precipitous situations.

Johnny would have had a much easier time if he had avoided the cookie jar. We would not fail so often if we avoided places where we would be subject to temptations. We ought not go where alcohol is served; we ought to avoid the magazine rack where the flesh is enticed; we ought to abstain from those things which tempt us to be dishonest. Let us cease giving the flesh easy opportunities!

Author Jamie Buckingham once visited a dam on the Columbia River. He’d always thought that the water spilling over the top provided the power, not realizing that it was just froth, that deep within turbines and generators transformed the power of tons and tons of water to electricity—quietly, without notice, not like the flashy froth on top.

Is our first interest in life the accumulation of wealth, or are we like that Burmese boatman who, when asked by a missionary whether he was willing to preach the Gospel to his fellow countrymen at only one-fourth of the salary he was now getting, said to the missionary, "I will not go for that small pay, but I will go for Christ."

Christianity has not been tried and found wanting; it’s been found difficult and not tried.

A little girl was walking in the cemetery with her aunt. She was examining the various gravestones when suddenly she cried out, "Oh, auntie, look here! Here is the tomb of some poor person who has not gone to heaven." "Not gone to heaven?" replied the astonished aunt, looking at the elaborate monument with weeping angels sculptured in marble. "Why, what do you mean?" "Well, auntie," said the child, "the lady or gentleman in the grave cannot have gone to heaven, or the angels would not be crying!"

Did you ever notice on a railroad ticket, or on many coupons of various nature, "Not good if detached?" The coupon was made of the same material as the rest of the ticket, was printed with the same ink, on the same press, and was kept in the same office and used by the same company. But it was not good if detached. Its usefulness, its ability to take you places, was dependent upon its relation to the rest of the ticket.

Of how much worth is a church member detached from the rest? How much fruit can a branch bear detached from the vine? How good is your hand when it is detached from your body? A Christian is one who stays with the rest of the church. He cannot serve apart from it. You may be a foot, a hand, or an eye of the body of Christ, but you are not worth much to yourself or to anyone else separated from the church, which is His body. Did you ever notice just how quickly a banana gets skinned after it leaves the bunch? So remember: "Forsaking not the assembling of yourselves together...." (Heb 10:25).

Man often loses much of his worth when he is detached from the world of persons and things about him. There are some forms of life that can live in relative isolation. A sponge, for instance, fastens itself to the bottom of the sea and completes its life cycle there. A lichen grows on the side of a rock and, while it spreads around slightly, never moves from its original location. But man isn't made to be like that. His power and usefulness come, not in isolation, but through union and cooperation with others. No life can be truly valuable in God's sight that isn't attached to Jesus Christ. We need Him, just as every member of our body needs to be attached to it, if it's going to be of any value. We also need fellowship with other believers who are attached to Christ. A soldier fighting a battle alone, or a single man working with pick and shovel trying to dig a Panama Canal, would scarcely be more effectual than a Christian trying to establish God's Kingdom all by himself. There are people in every community who are essentially Christian in spirit who have nothing to do with the Church. "Not good if detached" is the label we might put upon their lives.

We must heed the memorable words written by Robert Murray McCheyne to the Rev. Dan Edwards on 2 October 1840 after his ordination as a missionary to the Jews: ‘I trust you will have a pleasant and profitable time in Germany. I know you will apply hard to German; but do not forget the culture of the inner man,—I mean of the heart. How diligently the cavalry officer keeps his sabre clean and sharp; every stain he rubs off with the greatest care. Remember you are God’s sword—His instrument—I trust a chosen vessel unto Him to bear His name. In great measure, according to the purity and perfections of the instrument, will be the success. It is not great talents God blesses so much as great likeness to Jesus. A holy minister is an awful weapon in the hand of God.’

When I moved to the U.S. I was impressed with the number of total strangers who visited my home to wish me well...they all sold insurance! One day my visitor was talking about the necessity to be prudent in the preparation for all possibilities. “If something should happen to you, Mr. Briscoe—” he started to say, but I interrupted with, “Please don’t say that. It upsets me.” He was a little startled, but tried again, “But with all due respects, sir, we must be ready if something should happen to us.” “Don’t say that,” I insisted. He looked totally bewildered and said, “I don’t understand what I said to upset you.” “Then I’ll tell you,” I replied. “It upsets me that you talk about (life’s) only certainty as if it’s a possibility. Death isn’t a possibility, it’s a certainty. You don’t say “if,” you say “when,” whenever death is the subject.”

“We are not to be isolated but insulated,” said Vance Havner, “moving in the midst of evil but untouched by it.” Separation is contact with contamination. Jesus was “holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners” (Heb. 7:26), yet He was “a friend of tax collectors and sinners” (Luke 7:34).

Robert Fulghum wrote in the KANSAS CITY TIMES, “Most of what I really need to know about how to live, and what to do, and how to be, I learned in kindergarten. Wisdom was not at the top of the graduate school mountain, but there in the sandbox at nursery school.

“These are the things I learned:

Share everything.

Play fair.

Don’t hit people.

Put things back where you found them.

Clean up your own mess.

Don’t take things that aren’t yours.

Say you’re sorry when you hurt somebody . . .

When you go out into the world, watch for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. “

This writer has captured part of what Jesus meant when he said, “Unless you become like little children, you won’t enter the kingdom of heaven.” - Hugh Duncan

To think is to grow in awareness. Think as you look at a flower, a sunset or gaze at the starry sky. Someone has said that the unbelieving astronomer is mad. "What do you see?" a friend asked a famous botanist who was scrutinizing a flower. "I see God," was the reverent answer. A Scottish doctor wrote with his finger in the garden soil the letters of his little son's name, sowed cress in the furrows, and smoothed the ground. Ten days later, his son ran to him in astonishment and said that his name was growing in the garden and insisted on his father seeing it. "Is it not a mere chance?" asked the father. "No, someone must have arranged it that way." "Look at yourself," said the doctor. "Consider your hands, finger, legs, feet; did you come here by chance?" "No, something must have made me." "And who is that something?" As he did not know, the father told him the name of the great God who had made him and all the world. He never forgot that lesson.

Some years ago a former American astronaut took over as head of a major airline, determined to make the airline’s service the best in the industry. One day, as the new president walked through a particular department, he saw an employee resting his feet on a desk while the telephone on the desk rang incessantly. “Aren’t you going to answer that phone?” the boss demanded. “This isn’t my department,” answered the employee nonchalantly, apparently not recognizing his new boss. “I work in maintenance.”

“Not anymore you don’t!” snapped the president.

Some years ago a former American astronaut took over as head of a major airline, determined to make the airline’s service the best in the industry. One day, as the new president walked through a particular department, he saw an employee resting his feet on a desk while the telephone on the desk rang incessantly. “Aren’t you going to answer that phone?” the boss demanded.

“This isn’t my department,” answered the employee nonchalantly, apparently not recognizing his new boss. “I work in maintenance.”

“Not anymore you don’t!” snapped the president.

Because the younger children at our parochial school often forgot their sins when they entered my confessional, I suggested that teachers have the students make lists. The next week when one child came to confession, I could hear him unfolding paper. The youngster began, “I lied to my parents. I disobeyed my mom. I fought with my brothers and...”

There was a long pause. Then a small angry voice said, “Hey, this isn’t my list!”

Grace, triumphant in the throne,

Scorns a rival, reigns alone;

Come and bow beneath her sway!

Cast your idol works away!

Works of man, when made his plea,

Never shall accepted be;

Fruits of pride (vain-glorious worm!)

Are the best he can perform.

Self, the god his soul adores,

Influences all his powers;

Jesus is a slighted name,

Self-advancement all his aim.

But when God the Judge shall come,

To pronounce the final doom,

Then for rocks and hills to hide

All his works and all his pride!

Still the boasting heart replies,

What the worthy and the wise,

Friends to temperance and peace,

Have not these a righteousness?

Banish every vain pretense

Built on human excellence;

Perish every thing in man

But the grace that never can.

The words of Henry Ward Beecher come to mind in times of trial: "No physician ever weighed out medicine to his patients with half so much care and exactness as God weighs out to us every trial. Not one grain too much does He ever permit to be put on the scale."

A ship was plowing through a stormy sea when part of the mast broke off. The captain ordered a lad to climb up and repair the damage. The boy started up, but he slid back down and ran into his cabin for a moment. He then came back, climbed back to the top of the ship and made the necessary repairs. When he was on the deck again, the captain said to him, "Why did you run down into your cabin for a minute before you climbed aloft?" "Why, sir," he said, "I went down to offer a word of prayer and to place this New Testament in my pocket. My mother told me before I left home that if I would pray and carry the Word of God with me, I would be well protected from any storm."

"For in that He Himself hath suffered being tempted, He is able to succor them that are tempted" (Heb 2:18).

The name of Michael Faraday is known to scientists and students everywhere. He was a British physical scientist whose discoveries contributed much to our knowledge of electricity. The modern world has deified science-physical science. But we must never forget that all scientific investigation is based upon the premise that for every effect there must be a cause, and that the universe is governed by laws. All experiments are based on the laws we are continually discovering, and only a pseudo-scientist would claim that we have reached the end of our discoveries. Where would we be if we had no faith in the trustworthiness of physical laws? We would never entrust ourselves to an airplane.

When Faraday was dying someone asked him, "Mr. Faraday, what are your presumptions, your hypotheses now?" "I do not entrust my head to presumptions at this moment, but to certainties," he replied. " 'For I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I committed unto him against that day' " (2Ti 1:12).

From the Desk of: Don Genereaux

Honorable Secretary of Agriculture

Washington, D.C.

Dear Sir,

My friend, Dan Hansen, over at Honey Creek, Iowa, received a check for $1,000.00 from the government for not raising hogs. So I want to go into the “NOT RAISING HOGS” business next year.

What I want to know is, in your opinion, what is the best kind of farm not to raise hogs on? And what is the best breed of hogs not to raise? I want to be sure that I approach this endeavor in keeping with all government policies.

As I see it, the hardest part of the “NOT RAISING HOGS’ program is keeping an accurate inventory of how many hogs I haven’t raised.

My friend Hansen is very joyful about the future of the business. He has been raising hogs for twenty years or so, and the best he has ever made on them was $422.90 in 1968, until this year when he got your check for the $1000.00 for not raising 50 hogs.

If I get $1000.00 for not raising 50 hogs, then would I get $2000.00 for not raising 100 hogs? I plan to operate on a small scale at first, holding myself to about 4,000 hogs not raised the first year, which would bring in about $80,000.00; then I can afford an airplane.

Now another thing - these hogs I will not raise will not eat 100,000 bushels of corn. I understand that the government also pays people not to raise corn and wheat. Would I qualify for payments for not raising these crops not to feed my hogs I will not be raising?

I want to get started as soon as possible as this seems to be a good time of the year for the “NOT RAISING HOGS” and “NOT PLANTING CROPS” business.

Also I am giving serious consideration to the “NOT MILKING COWS” business and any information you would have on the endeavor would be greatly appreciated.

In view of the fact that I will be totally unemployed, I will be filing for unemployment and food stamps, and was wondering how long that process takes.

Be assured, Mr. Secretary, you will have my vote in the upcoming election.

Patriotically yours, Don Genereaux

P.S. Would you please notify me when you plan to give out the free cheese again?

Once a large and beautiful block of marble was brought from the Greek island of Paros. Out of this marble it was planned to chisel a statue of the great Napoleon. The famous sculptor, Canova, surveyed it with critical eyes before commencing work upon it and discovered a slight red mark traversing the block. To the unskilled it was an insignificant matter, but Canova said, "I cannot work upon this; it has a flaw. It is not perfectly pure and white. I will not lay my chisel upon it." Therefore he rejected it. Think what imperfections the omniscient eye of God detects in the purest of human characters. Yet, He does not reject us on this account. How humbling, indeed, is this thought!

Alexander the Great was not satisfied, even when he had completely subdued the nations. He wept because there were no more worlds to conquer, and he died at an early age in a state of debauchery. Hannibal, who filled three bushels with the gold rings taken from the knights he had slaughtered, committed suicide by swallowing poison. Few noted his passing, and he left this earth completely unmourned. Julius Caesar, ‘staining his garments in the blood of one million of his foes,’ conquered 800 cities, only to be stabbed by his best friends at the scene of his greatest triumph. Napoleon, the feared conqueror, after being the scourge of Europe, spent his last years in banishment.

We do not rest satisfied with the present. We anticipate that future as too slow in coming, as if in order to hasten its course; or we recall the past, to stop its too rapid flight. So imprudent are we that we dream of those times which are no more, and thoughtlessly overlook that which alone exists. For the present is generally painful to us. We conceal it from our sight, because it troubles us; and if it be delightful to us, we regret to see it pass away. We try to sustain it by the future, and think of rearranging matters which are not in our power, for a time which we have no certainty of reaching.

Let each one examine his thoughts, and he will find them all occupied with the past and the future. We scarcely ever think of the present; and if we think of it, it is only to take light from it to arrange the future. The present is never our end. So we never live, but we hope to live; and, as we are always preparing to be happy, it is inevitable we should never be so.

“Paul’s meaning is not that the flesh, with its affections and lusts, is no longer present at all with those that have become Christians, but that a walk in the flesh should not any longer exist in the case of Christians. A walk in the Spirit might be rightly expected of believers. This is only possible for those who have crucified the flesh. The word is not slain, but crucified. It is a task of the Christian to be accomplished only by continual effort (Colossians 3:5).

“In ‘crucified,’ however, the simple slaying is not the main idea, but the condemning, giving sentence, surrendering to infamous death. This has necessarily taken place in becoming Christ’s. Fellowship with Christ involves a crucifixion of the flesh for the very reason that it is fellowship with Christ’s death on the cross. “Christ indeed has only suffered what people have deserved on account of their sinful flesh. Whoever appropriates to himself Christ’s death upon the cross regards the flesh to himself no longer. For him, in Christ’s death, the flesh has been crucified.”

“My wife isn’t talking to me.” “Maybe she’s trying to tell you something.”

Insurance salesman to customer: “You’ve filled in this application all right except for one thing, Mr. Perkins—where it asks the relationship of Mrs. Perkins to yourself, you should have put down ‘wife,’ not ‘strained.’”

Robert Murray McCheyne wrote to Dan Edwards after the latter’s ordination as a missionary, “In great measure, according to the purity and perfections of the instrument, will be the success. It is not great talents God blesses so much as great likeness to Jesus. A holy minister is an awful weapon in the hand of God” (emphasis mine).

It is not the critic who counts: not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena; whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, and comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; who does actually try to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion and spends himself in a worthy cause; who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly.

Far better it is to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs even though checkered by failure, than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much because they live in the gray twilight that knows neither victory nor defeat.

In The Mask Behind the Mask, biographer Peter Evans says that actor Peter Sellers played so many roles he sometimes was not sure of his own identity. Approached once by a fan who asked him, “Are you Peter Sellers?” Sellers answered briskly, “Not today,” and walked on.

In my late twenties, a bunch of my friends and I decided to sail around the world. I have to admit, though, at the time I was a bit worried. I hadn’t even sailed before. I was uneasy and anxious. So I spent a lot of time reading the Bible and praying about it, until it dawned on me that God was whispering, “Tim, I’ll give you peace if you read some books on sailing. The reason you’re anxious is not due to lack of prayer, but to your lack of sailing knowledge.”

I wasn’t unprayerful; I was unskilled. So I took a step I needed to take to “let” God work his peace in my heart. I began reading about sailing.

A young nobleman had been absent for such a long time from his extensive estate and numerous tenants that he was a stranger to them. Having returned home, he was out hunting and wandered from his party. Lost and thoroughly drenched by the rain, he sought shelter and relief in the cottages of some of his tenants, but they did not recognize him as the lord of the manor and shut their doors in his face. Knocking at the cottage of a poor widow, he heard the invitation, "Come in, thou blessed of the Lord." She gave him a suit of dry, though coarse, clothing and spread before him the best food she could provide. He went away promising to return for his own clothes. The next day he appeared with his retinue and stopped before the poor widow's door. She discovered in the young lord her unknown guest. He thanked her for her kindness shown to a stranger. She gave as a reason for her hospitality the fact that her own boy was away at sea and might be in need of shelter. When Christ came, He was surrounded by the world He had made. Yet Christ had nowhere to lay His head, for "He came unto his own, and his own received him not."

It is only natural when you are eagerly expecting someone to welcome him with open arms. Just imagine the disappointment of a father returning to his family from the war to find that he is not recognized. All along the family has been praying and waiting for his return, yet when he arrives he is not welcomed. There could be no greater shock to a father than that. A welcome by one's own family is the instinctive hope of all. "He came unto His own and his own received Him not."

Not what, but whom, I do believe

That in my darkest hour of need

Hath comforts that no mortal creed

To mortal man may give.

Not what but whom,

For Christ is more than all the creeds

And his full life of gentle deeds

Shall all the creeds outlive.

Not what I do believe but whom,

Who walks beside me in the gloom

Who shares the burden wearisome;

Who all the dim way doth illume

And bids me look beyond the tomb

The larger life to live.

Not what I do believe but whom.

John Oxenham

I know you believe you understand what you think I said, but I’m not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.

“I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversity, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.”

A young man had gone as a missionary to China. He was filled with love for the people but was unable to master the language. At last, having done his best for two years without success, he felt it his duty to take his resignation to the mission house. When this became known, a delegation of natives, composed of heathen as well as Christians, went to the mission house with the pleas that this man remain. Their argument was this: "He has done us all more good than anyone else in the mission, although he does not understand our language and cannot preach to us."

Some people say to me, "Moody, you don't believe in the flood. All the scientific men tell us it is absurd." Let them tell us. Jesus tells us of it, and I would rather take the word of Jesus than that of any other one. I haven't got much respect for those men who dig down for stones with shovels, in order to take away the word of God. Men don't believe in the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, but we have it sealed in the New Testament. "As, it was in the days of Sodom and Gomorrah." They don't believe in Lot's wife, but He says, "Remember Lot's wife." So there is not a thing that men to-day cavil at but the Son of God indorses. They don't believe, in the swallowing of Jonah. They say it is impossible that a whale could swallow Jonah--its throat is too small. They forget that the whale was prepared for Jonah; as the colored woman said, "Why, God could prepare a man to swallow a whale, let alone a whale to swallow a man."

In the novel, “Cat’s Cradle” by Kurt Vonnegut, Jr., an important book comes to light. It is titled “What Can a Thoughtful Man Hope for Mankind on Earth, Given the Experience of the Past Million Years?” The chief character is anxious to read it. But when he does, he finds that it doesn’t take long. The whole book consists of one word: “Nothing.”

Death is nothing at all. It does not count. I have only slipped away into the next room. Nothing has happened. Everything remains exactly as it was. I am I, and you are you, and the old life that we lived so fondly together is untouched, unchanged. Whatever we were to each other, that we are still. Call me by the old familiar name. Speak of me in the easy way which you always used. Put no difference into your tone. Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow. Laugh as we always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together. Play, smile, think of me, pray for me. Let my name be ever the household word that it always was. Let it be spoken without an effort, without a ghost of a shadow upon it. Life means all that it ever meant. It is the same as it ever was. There is absolute and unbroken continuity. What is death but a negligible accident? Why should I be out of mind because I am out of sight? I am but waiting for you, for an interval, somewhere very near, just around the corner. All is well.

“Nothing but a scrap of paper—that’s what a marriage license is!”

This kind of extravagant statement is a symptom of the spirit of our age. With increasing frequency, marriage is being put down, cast aside, and overturned. But wait a minute! Aren’t scraps of paper important? Is it not one of the marks of civilized men that they protect themselves against their savagery by scraps of paper? Sure, a wedding license is a scrap of paper, but so in an employment contract, your paycheck, a twenty-dollar bill, the deed to your home, and the Constitution of the United States.

“Nothing is done,” Lincoln Steffens once wrote. “Everything in the world remains to be done—or done over. The greatest picture is not yet painted. The greatest play isn’t written. The greatest poem is unsung.” Nothing is perfect, we can add. There’s no perfect airline. There’s no perfect government. There’s no perfect law.

Faucets still drip, as one did years ago in the Steffens household. As he and his seven-year-old son tried to fix it, Steffens had to admit that his generation could not make a fit faucet. “But,” said Steffens, referring to his son, “he may.”

There’s a job for him and his generation in the plumbing business, and in every other business. Teach your children that nothing is done, finally and right; that nothing is known, positively and completely; that the world is theirs—all of it.

When times are tough and things just aren’t going your way, there’s nothing like a hug. Someone putting an arm around you and telling you, “Hey, everything’s going to be all right. You’re okay.”

And there’s nobody better at that than your mom. Just ask Nick Anderson. The Orlando Magic guard missed four free throws in the waning seconds of his team’s NBA finals game against Houston and the team went on to lose a game it otherwise might have won. Later Houston guard Clyde Drexler blew past Anderson for a lay-up late in overtime. Nick Anderson had a very bad game.

Understandably, when he got home Anderson was down in the dumps. “My mom put her arm around me,” Anderson later said, “and told me, ‘You’ve got nothing to put your head down about. You’ve pulled your team through many other times.’”

The focus of health in the soul is humility, while the root of inward corruption is pride. In the spiritual life, nothing stands still. If we are not constantly growing downward into humility, we shall be steadily swelling up and running to seed under the influence of pride.

Nothing in this world can take the place of persistence. Talent will not; nothing is more common than unsuccessful men with talent. Genius will not; unrewarded genius is almost a proverb. Education will not; the world is full of educated derelicts. Persistence and determination alone are omnipotent. The slogan “press on” has solved and always will solve the problems of the human race.

An unbeliever once approached a consistent born-again believer and began to ridicule him. "Listen to me, my friend," said the Christian. "On my instrument I have two chords-joy of faith in Christ and hope of eternal joy in heaven. You have only one-hope of joy in this life."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Let me explain. I want to be on the safe side. Suppose that after death there is really nothing, and both of us are destined to disappear into nothingness. Who do you think is getting more satisfaction out of life right now-you with your empty philosophy or I with my faith in Jesus Christ? I think that I really have it over you as far as enjoyment is concerned. So that if you are right, I should lose nothing by having committed myself to faith in Christ. But if I am right, what will become of you? My fellowship with Christ assures me of joy in this life and eternal bliss in case there is life after death. I have nothing to lose. But you? If it turns out I'm right, you will be lost in the future. And on top of it all, you will find that you didn't enjoy the peace of heart and the joy of being on the side of right in this life, as I did."

Quarterback Tony Rice led Notre Dame’s football team to a national championship in 1988. Before the season, sportswriters wondered whether Notre Dame could beat the tough teams with a quarterback like Rice, whose passing often was inaccurate.

They didn’t know that coach Lou Holtz had brought Rice a dart board and told him to practice throwing darts an hour a day. Rice didn’t see how that would help his passing, but he did as his coach said. Soon he began to throw passes with more accuracy and confidence—both of which were evidenced in a banner season.

Christians likewise find the practice of sharing a sentence or two of testimony or prayer on a regular basis can sharpen those skills. Any activity will improve with practice.

Meg. F. Quijano related the following incident that happened upon her return from a meeting of the National Organization for Women. Her five-year-old daughter, Lisa, greeted her with the news that when she grew up she wanted to be a nurse. There was a time when nursing was thought by many to be a “woman’s job.” Quijano told Lisa she could be anything she wanted to be. “You can be a lawyer, a surgeon, a banker, President of the United States—you can be anything.”

Lisa looked a little dubious. “Anything? Anything at all?” She thought about it, and then her face lit up with ambition. “All right,” she said. “I’ll be a horse.”

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray my Cuisinart to keep

I pray my stocks are on the rise

And that my analyst is wise.

That all the wine I sip is white

And that my hot tub’s watertight

That racquetball won’t get too tough

That all my sushi’s fresh enough.

I pray my cordless phone still works

That my career won’t lose its perks

My microwave won’t radiate

My condo won’t depreciate.

I pray my health club doesn’t close

And that my money market grows

If I go broke before I wake

I pray my Volvo they won’t take.

The greatest obstacle to being handicapped—or challenged, or disabled or whatever label we may be using this year—is not the condition but the stigma society still associates with it. The truth is we are valuable because of who we are, not because of how we look or what we accomplish. And that applies to all of us, the disabled and the temporarily able-bodied alike.

I’m convinced God didn’t turn His back at the moment of Jeff’s conception. He is still the God of miracles, but in this instance, the one who received healing was me. Our Lord is still in the business of changing lives, but not always in the ways we expect. Several years ago, Jeff played in a special Little League for kids with disabilities. After many seasons of watching from the bleachers and rooting while his big brother played ball, Jeff’s opportunity finally arrived. When he received his uniform, he couldn’t wait to get home to put it on. When he raced out from his bedroom, fully suited up, he announced to me, “Mom, now I’m a real boy!” Though his words pushed my heart to my throat, I assured him he had always been a “real boy.”

Remember that this may be the day the Lord returns. The thought of Psa 118:24 surely includes our rejoicing in the return of the Lord. If I really believe Christ may return today, I'll live differently than I ever have, seeking to affect others for Christ. Nobody knows when He will return, so we ought to live each day as though He will come back today.

Use time wisely, make the most of every opportunity (Col 4:5). Don't make excuses-be involved in the lives of those outside the Lord. Pray daily that God will keep alive in your heart a picture of those who are outside Christ as being lost. Ask God to revive your loving concern that all men be taught of Him, and to help you be involved in every effort to teach them.

Treat everyone as if you'll never see them again (Act 10:37-38). If we don't take for granted that we'll have time in the future, surely our treatment of each other will greatly improve. Use the time NOW to share a little about Jesus, for you may not have another opportunity.

If we truly believe NOW is all the time we have, what a difference that will make in our lives. It's great to be part of the family of God.

A pioneer preacher was called to conduct the funeral for a man who never entered the church building while he lived. As the pallbearers neared the meetinghouse door, the old preacher stood in the doorway and beckoned saying: "Gentlemen, I have never taken an undue advantage of any living person, and I am not going to begin imposing on the dead. If this man were living he would not enter this building. Put him down right there and let us respect him enough to finish his earthly pilgrimage as he lived it."

The service was conducted from the doorway, with the casket resting on the church-house lawn. Perhaps the preacher was a bit "hard," but he certainly had a point. Better think about dying and eternity while we live.

Carlyle had a very devoted wife who sacrificed everything for his sake, but he never gave her a single expression of appreciation for which her heart yearned. she came to regard herself as the most miserable woman in London and evidently died of heart hunger. After her death, Carlyle, reading her diary, realized the truth. A friend found him at her grave suffering intense remorse and exclaiming, “If I had only known!”

Now is the time to tell.

The man stopped at the flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived 200 miles away. As he got out of his car he noticed a girl sitting on the curb sobbing. He asked her what was wrong and she replied: "I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother, but I only have 75 cents and a rose costs .00.

The man smiled and said, "Come on in with me. I will buy you a rose for your mother." He placed his FTD order of flowers to his mother and bought a rose for the girl. As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride.

She responded, "Yes, please, if you could. Take me to my mother," and she directed him to a cemetery where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.

The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up the flowers and drove the 200 miles to his mother's home.

It was the worst of times. In the first half of the 17th century, Germany was in the midst of wars and famine and pestilence. In the city of Eilenburg lived a pastor by the name of Martin Rinkart.

During one especially oppressive period, Rinkart conducted up to 50 funerals a day as a plague swept through the town and as the Thirty Years’ War wreaked its own terror on the people. Among those whom Rinkart buried were members of his own family.

Yet during those years of darkness and despair, when death and destruction greeted each new day, Pastor Rinkart wrote 66 sacred songs and hymns. Among them was the song “Now Thank We All Our God.” As sorrow crouched all around him, Rinkart wrote:

Now thank we all our God

With hearts and hands and voice,

Who wondrous things hath done,

In whom His world rejoices;

Who, from our mothers’ arms,

Hath blessed us on our way

With countless gifts of love,

And still is ours today.

Rinkart demonstrated a valuable lesson for us all: Thankfulness does not have to wait for prosperity and peace. It’s always a good time to praise God for the “wondrous things” He has done.

King Henry VIII of England claimed to be a Christian, but in many cases he made laws that went against God’s law. He also demanded that his religious and political advisers agree with him. Those who chose to obey God rather than the king were often killed. John Fisher, a close friend of the king, chose God’s law above Henry’s. He was sentenced to die. On the day of his execution, he asked to be brought his best clothes. “This is my ‘wedding day,’” he explained, “and I ought to dress as if for a holiday.” Carrying his New Testament, he was led to the execution platform. There he prayed, “Lord, grant that I may find some word of comfort so that I may glorify You in my last hour.” The first words he saw as He opened the Scriptures were these: “Now this is eternal life; that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent” (John 17:3). “That will do,” he said. “Here’s learning enough to last me to my life’s end.” Within minutes, he was dead.

William Beebe, the naturalist, used to tell this story about Teddy Roosevelt. At Sagamore Hill, after an evening of talk, the two would go out on the lawn and search the skies for a certain spot of star-like light near the lower left-hand corner of the Great Square of Pegasus. Then Roosevelt would recite: “That is the Spiral Galaxy in Andromeda. It is as large as our Milky Way. It is one of a hundred million galaxies. It consists of one hundred billion suns, each larger than our sun.” Then Roosevelt would grin and say, “Now I think we are small enough! Let’s go to bed.”

Moreover, we must not hesitate to emphasize that the New Testament evangelistic task was a task committed to the entire organized church. It was evangelism by every Christian as is clear in Acts 8:3 where we are told that a great persecution scattered the church. All except the apostles went through the regions of Judea and Samaria preaching the Word.

Sadly enough, the Arminians often seem to catch this emphasis better than we Calvinists. Too often we let the Arminian canvas the neighborhood and witness to our friends while we sit idly by. The best car in the world is useless if it is never started. The Arminians may drive a theological model T, but they drive nonetheless.

How many children are aborted? Worldwide, 55 million unborn children are killed every year. Around the world, every day 150,685 children are killed by abortion; every hour, 6278; and every minute, 105. Those are the reported cases.

If you are an American citizen, no doubt your greatest interest is in your own nation, as is mine. Let me break the abortions down to a national statistic: 1,600,000 babies are aborted in these United States every year. Per day, that’s 4,383; per hour, that’s 183; per minute, there are 3.

The average number of jobs an American worker has held by age 40: 8

Your home is the number one influence in the life of your child. The average church has a child 1% of his time, the home has him 83% of his time and the school for the remaining 16%. This does not minimize the need for churches and schools, but it establishes the fact your home is 83% of your child’s world and you have only one time around to make it of maximum benefit. - Howard Hendricks

Sister Carol Anne O’Marie is a nun in Oakland, California, who writes mystery novels about an elderly nun playing detective. According to Leigh Weiners of the San Jose Mercury, Sister O’Marie was once approached by a Hollywood company to turn her novels into a television series.

She was told that it would help dramatically if the central character were younger, had a drinking problem, and perhaps had an illicit love affair before she donned the habit. When the author declined to contemplate such changes, the television producer tried the ultimate argument:

“You’re turning down a chance, Sister, to make a lot of money.”

“What would I do with it?” replied the nun, who had taken a vow of poverty, “I’m not going to live in a nicer convent.”

This downward slide was explained dramatically by Dr. Leo Alexander in an article in the New England Journal of Medicine, written in 1949.

Dr. Alexander was a consultant to the Secretary of War in the Nuremberg Trials. He had extraordinary access to accused Nazi war criminals in the medical community. Writing from that unique perspective, Dr. Alexander argued that so-called “compassionate killing” of the terminally ill inevitably set the stage for the Holocaust. He wrote:

Whatever proportions these crimes finally assumed, it became evident to all who investigated them that they had started from small beginnings. The beginnings at first were merely a subtle shift in emphasis in the basic attitude of the physicians. It started with the acceptance of the attitude . that there is such a thing as life not worthy to be lived. This attitude in its early stages concerned itself merely with the severely and chronically sick. Gradually the sphere of those to be included in this category was enlarged to encompass the socially unproductive, the ideologically unwanted, the racially unwanted and finally all non-Germans.

Before his death, Dr. Alexander told a friend that trends in our country were “much like Germany in the ’20s and ’30s. The barriers against killing are coming down.”

The Court declared a 4 line nursery rhyme unconstitutional because, although it did not contain the word “God,” it might cause someone to think it was talking about God.

No matter how long you nurse a grudge, it won’t get better.

Blessed be nuthin’

Remarked the wise sage.

Be glad if you’ve nuthin’

In this day and age;

For nuthin’ is sumpthin’

That cannot be stole

Nor drop from your pocket

Nor purse’s small hole.

Nuthin’ is sumpthin’

The bank cannot lose,

The creditors seize

Nor the burglars abuse.

Folks who have nuthin’

Really should love it,

For nuthin’ is sumpthin’

The neighbors won’t covet.

Nuthin’ is sumpthin’

That won’t collect dust;

You don’t have to hide it

Nor protect it from rust.

So if you have nuthin’—

Be glad—sing a song!

For when leaving this earth,

You can take it along!

— Mrs. Don Mathis

History remembers John Joseph McGraw primarily as the famed and ferocious longtime manager of the New York Giants. But as unrelenting as McGraw was as a manager during the first three decades of the 20th century, he had been even more unrelenting as a player in the 1890s. It was an era of dirty baseball, and the Baltimore Orioles delighted in being the dirtiest. The most pugnacious Oriole was McGraw, who played third base—”the toughest of the toughs and an abomination of the diamond,” one sportswriter said.

McGraw was born in Upstate New York, the oldest of eight children of an Irish immigrant railroad worker. In 1884, when diphtheria swept through his village, he was a slight, eager 11-year-old whose proudest possession was a battered baseball he had been allowed to order from the Spalding catalog. He watched helplessly as, one by one, his mother and four of his brothers and sisters died. His father took out his grief and anger on his son, beating him so often and so mercilessly that at 12 he feared for his life and ran away from home. He supported himself with odd jobs until he won himself a place on the Olean (New York) professional team at 16—and never again willingly took orders from any man.

Although he was short and weighed barely 155 pounds, he held far bigger base runners back by the belt. He blocked them, tripped them, spiked them. When they did the same to him, he was usually not one to complain. “We’d spit tobacco juice on a spike wound,” he remembered, rub dirt in it and get out there and play.” McGraw had a face “like a fist,” one reporter wrote, and he saw nothing to be ashamed of in his style of play:

“We were in the field and the other team had a runner on first who started to steal second, but first of all he spiked our first baseman on the foot. Our man retaliated by trying to trip him. He got away, but at second Heinie Reitz tried to block him off while Hughie (Jennings)...covered the bag to take the throw and tag him. The runner evaded Reitz and jumped feet first at Jennings to drive him away from the bag. Jennings dodged the flying spikes and threw himself bodily at the runner, knocking him flat.

“In the meantime, the batter hit our catcher over the hands so he couldn’t throw, and our catcher trod on the umpire’s feet with his spikes and shoved his big mitt in his face so he couldn’t see the play.”