Saturday, March 18, 2023

March 18, 2023

Grandpa Stories - Christian Comic book by Inkology and HeaveNation Designs

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Monday, April 4, 2022

April 04, 2022

Story on Peace - A Bible Illustration


There once lived a very wealthy man who was willing to pay a small fortune to the artist who could best illustrate the presence of peace. Several artists brought paintings of sunsets and quiet meadows, but the man did not accept any of these. One day as he was walking through looking at the most recent attempts, two paintings captured his attention.

One was a painting of a beautiful calm lake surrounded by lush green mountains. The water seemed as still as glass and wispy white clouds danced in the bright blue of the sky. Next to this painting was another with vast differences. It was also a picture of a lake surrounded by mountains, but the strong winds had whipped the lake into a tempest and the dark clouds hovered about the rugged mountain landscape ready to release a downpour of torrential rains.
The audience standing about watched with anticipation to see which one the man might choose to depict the story of peace. All were shocked when he did not choose the first, but instead chose the second. How could such a stormy scene tell a story of peace?
The rich man explained. The first painting was beautiful and peaceful, but it didn’t tell the truth of where peace can be found. Anyone could feel peaceful upon a crystal-clear lake with white clouds drifting across the sky and barely a breeze blowing across the water.
Then he pointed out something in the second painting which everyone else had overlooked. If you peered closely into the mountains of the second, there was a waterfall, and tucked into a crevice of that mountain near the waterfall was a small nest on which a mother bird sat upon tiny blue eggs.
The man spoke. “This second painting is a picture of true, perfect peace because it is within the storms of life we find real peace tucked into the side of God knowing His presence will guard and protect us even in the midst of this world’s storms
"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid."
John 14:27
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Thursday, March 31, 2022

March 31, 2022

Love



Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous, it does not brag, and it is not proud. Love is not rude, is not selfish 
and does not get upset with others. Love does not count up wrongs that have been done. Love is not happy with 
evil but is happy with the truth. Love patiently accepts all things. It always trusts, always hopes, and always 
remains strong. 
1 Cor. 13:4–7

Love Your Enemy

It is far better to forgive and forget than to resent and remember.
Anonymous

It was in a church in Munich that I saw him—a balding, heavyset man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room
where I had just spoken, moving along the rows of wooden chairs to the door at the rear. It
was 1947 and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God
forgives.
It was the truth they needed most to hear in that bitter, bombed-out land, and I gave them my
favorite mental picture. Maybe because the sea is never far from a Hollander's mind, I liked to
think that that's where forgiven sins were thrown. ''When we confess our sins," I said, "God
casts them into the deepest ocean, gone forever. And even though I cannot find a scripture for
it, I believe God then places a sign out there that says, 'NO FISHING ALLOWED.' "
The solemn faces stared back at me, not quite daring to believe. There were never questions
after a talk in Germany in 1947. People stood up in silence, in silence collected their wraps, in
silence left the room.
And that's when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw
the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and
crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights; the
pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor; the shame of walking naked past
this man. I could see my sister's frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment
skin. Betsie, how thin you were!
The place was Ravensbruck and the man who was making his way forward had been a
guard—one of the most cruel guards.
Now he was in front of me, hand thrust out: "A fine message, Fräulein! How good it is to
know that, as you say, all our sins are at the bottom of the sea!"
And I, who had spoken so glibly of forgiveness, fumbled in my pocketbook rather than take
that hand. He would not remember me, of course—how could he remember one prisoner
among those thousands of women?
But I remembered him and the leather crop swinging from his belt. I was face-to-face with
one of my captors and my blood seemed to freeze.
"You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk," he was saying. "I was a guard there." No, he did
not remember me.
"But since that time," he went on, "I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven
me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well.
Fräulein"—again the hand came out—"will you forgive me?"
And I stood there—I whose sins had again and again needed to be forgiven—and could not
forgive. Betsie had died in that place—could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the
asking?
It could not have been many seconds that he stood there—hand held out—but to me it seemed
hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.
For I had to do it—I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we
forgive those who have injured us. "If you do not forgive men their trespasses," Jesus says,
"neither will your Father in Heaven forgive your trespasses."
I knew it not only as a commandment of God, but as a daily experience. Since the end of the
war I had had a home in Holland for victims of Nazi brutality. Those who were able to forgive
their former enemies were able also to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives, no
matter what the physical scars. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as
simple and horrible as that.
And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an
emotion—I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function
regardless of the temperature of the heart. Jesus, help me! I prayed silently. I can lift my hand.
I can do that much. You supply the feeling.
And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I
did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm
and sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole
being, bringing tears to my eyes.
"I forgive you, brother." I cried. "With all my heart."
For a long moment we grasped each other's hands—the former guard and the former prisoner.
I had never known God's love so intensely as I did then. But even so, I realized it was not my
love. I had tried, and did not have the power. It was the power of the Holy Spirit as recorded
in Romans 5:5: ". . . because the love of God is shed abroad in our hearts by the Holy Ghost
which is given unto us."
Corrie ten Boom
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Tuesday, September 21, 2021

September 21, 2021

God Says Series

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Friday, September 17, 2021

September 17, 2021

Discarded Things

Plot Summary 

Grace Wyatt felt like she had finally buried her past by becoming a successful professor of music. However, her husband’s untimely death sends her back into a spiral of addiction and bitterness. Once Grace is able to recover, she’s assigned to live as a volunteer at a house program for troubled teens. Though Grace initially clashes with the leadership decisions of the program, she eventually finds her niche helping the teens find their voices. Nonetheless, Grace has no idea that she still has to make peace with her past to move forward in life.




You can watch Discarded Things on Youtube or here below. Enjoy
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Thursday, September 16, 2021

September 16, 2021

Come Away (feat. Sasha Robin & Sijo Mathew Sunny)

 


Come Away (feat. Sasha Robin & Sijo Mathew Sunny) · Bangalore Revival Center · Sasha Robin · Sijo Mathew Sunny · Jonathan Wesley Come Away (feat. Sasha Robin & Sijo Mathew Sunny) ℗ 2021 Bangalore Revival Center Released on: 2021-09-01


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Sunday, February 9, 2020

February 09, 2020

The Teacup Story


There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.

One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful cup. They said, "May we see that? We've never seen one quite so beautiful."

As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the cup spoke. "You don't understand," it said. "I haven't always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay. My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, 'let me alone,' but he only smiled, 'Not yet.'

"Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the cup said, "and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. Stop it! I'm getting dizzy! I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, 'Not yet.'

"Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat!" the teacup said. "I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as He shook his head, 'Not yet.'

"Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. 'There, that's better,' I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. 'Stop it, stop it!' I cried. He only nodded, 'Not yet.'

"Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening, nodding his head saying, 'Not yet.'

"Then I knew there wasn't any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf.

One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, 'Look at yourself.' And I did. I said, 'That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful.'

"'I want you to remember, then,' he said, 'I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you'd have dried up.

I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled.

I knew it hurt and was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked.

I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life.

And if I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't survive for very long because the hardness would not have held.

Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.'"

~ Author Unknown

Lesson from the Teacup Story:
This teacup story illustrates what Jeremiah wrote by the inspiration of God:

The word which came to Jeremiah from the Lord saying, "Arise and go down to the potter's house, and there I shall announce My words to you." Then I went down to the potter's house, and there he was, making something on the wheel. But the vessel that he was making of clay was spoiled in the hand of the potter; so he remade it into another vessel, as it pleased the potter to make. Then the word of the Lord came to me saying, "Can I not, O house of Israel, deal with you as this potter does?" declares the Lord. "Behold, like the clay in the potter's hand, so are you in My hand, O house of Israel." Jeremiah 18:1-6 (NASB)
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Monday, December 7, 2015

December 07, 2015

The Wrong Funeral.....



God is there for us when we need him the most. Sometimes he makes his presence known in the most unlikely and unexpected ways. Read this hilarious and heartwarming story of God bringing a bit a levity and more to a grief stricken woman.
Consumed by my loss, I didn’t notice the hardness of the pew where I sat. I was at the funeral of my dearest friend — my mother. She finally had lost her long battle with cancer. The hurt was so intense, I found it hard to breathe at times. Always supportive, Mother clapped loudest at my school plays, held a box of tissues while listening to my first heartbreak, comforted me at my father’s death, encouraged me in college, and prayed for me my entire life. When mother’s illness was diagnosed, my sister had a new baby and my brother had recently married his childhood sweetheart, so it fell on me, the 27-year-old middle child without entanglements, to take care of her.
I counted it an honor. “What now, Lord?” I asked sitting in church. My life stretched out before me as an empty abyss. My brother sat stoically with his face toward the cross while clutching his wife’s hand. My sister sat slumped against her husband’s shoulder, his arms around her as she cradled their child. All so deeply grieving, no one noticed I sat alone. My place had been with our mother, preparing her meals, helping her walk, taking her to the doctor, seeing to her medication, reading the Bible together.
Now she was with the Lord. My work was finished, and I was alone. I heard a door open and slam shut at the back of the church. Quick footsteps hurried along the carpeted floor. An exasperated young man looked around briefly and then sat next to me. He folded his hands and placed them on his lap. His eyes were brimming with tears. He began to sniffle. “I’m late,” he explained, though no explanation was necessary.
After several eulogies, he leaned over and commented, “Why do they keep calling Mary by the name of ‘Margaret?'” “Because that was her name, Margaret. Never Mary. No one called her ‘Mary,'” I whispered. I wondered why this person couldn’t have sat on the other side of the church.
He interrupted my grieving with his tears and fidgeting. Who was this stranger anyway? “No, that isn’t correct,” he insisted, as several people glanced over at us whispering, “Her name is Mary, Mary Peters.” “That isn’t who this is.” “Isn’t this the Lutheran church?” “No, the Lutheran church is across the street.” “Oh.” “I believe you’re at the wrong funeral, Sir.”
The solemnness of the occasion mixed with the realization of the man’s mistake bubbled up inside me and came out as laughter. I cupped my hands over my face, hoping it would be interpreted as sobs. The creaking pew gave me away. Sharp looks from other mourners only made the situation seem more hilarious. I peeked at the bewildered, misguided man seated beside me.
He was laughing, too, as he glanced around, deciding it was too late for an uneventful exit. I imagined Mother laughing. At the final “Amen,” we darted out a door and into the parking lot. “I do believe we’ll be the talk of the town,” he smiled. He said his name was Rick and since he had missed his aunt’s funeral, asked me out for a cup of coffee. That afternoon began a lifelong journey for me with this man who attended the wrong funeral, but was in the right place.
A year after our meeting, we were married at a country church where he was the assistant pastor. This time we both arrived at the same church, right on time. In my time of sorrow, God gave me laughter. In place of loneliness, God gave me love. This past June we celebrated our twenty-second wedding anniversary. Whenever anyone asks us how we met, Rick tells them, “Her mother and my Aunt Mary introduced us, and it’s truly a match made in heaven.”
– Author Unknown
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Friday, September 18, 2015

September 18, 2015

YOUR CHILD'S SELF-PERCEPTION

Proverbs 22:6 - Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it. 
Your primary responsibility as a parent is to lead your child to Christ and help him establish his identity in Christ. When a child comes into the world, he is completely dependent on his earthly parents to feed him, change his dirty diapers and provide shelter. Childhood and adolescence is the process of moving from total dependence as a child to total independence as an adult. In the process of finding out who they are as individuals, children gradually move away from many of the people, thoughts, and ideas they have experienced through their parents and move toward the people, thoughts, and ideas which they have made their own. 

A child is capable of understanding God's love and protection and receiving Jesus Christ as Savior at a very early age. But understanding his spiritual identity is a process that takes place over the years of his childhood. It is the process of shifting his dependence from parents to God. 

I believe age 12 is the approximate time in a child's life when we should help him establish his spiritual identity. Evangelicals have tended to minimize junior high ministry and focus on high school. High school is too late for some kids to be challenged with their spiritual identity. Don't make that mistake with your children. You must begin early helping them understand who they are as children of God and what their identity means to them spiritually. Seeing themselves as God sees them is the most important perception your children will ever have. If your kids don't find their identity in Christ, they will find it in the world. 

 Children wrestle with identity around age 12. Researchers of cognitive development say that most 12-year-olds can think as adults. They are capable of abstract thinking and understanding symbolism. This is significant when you remember that Jesus appeared out of obscurity at age 12. Furthermore, the Jewish bar mitzvah has been celebrated for centuries when a boy turns 12, the age at which Jews believe that a boy becomes a man. Many churches have confirmation for children at or near the age of 12. 

 Prayer: Help me guide my children into a relationship with You, dear Father, so they may establish their identity in Christ.
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Friday, July 10, 2015

July 10, 2015

PREDISPOSED TO DO HIS WILL



 Luke 9:62 
No one, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God
 
Imagine, if you would, a door in the path ahead of you. God's will is on the other side of that door. We crave to know what it is. Will God show us what's on the other side of that door? No Why not? Because we have to resolve an issue on this side of the door first. If He is Lord, He has the right to determine what's on the other side of the door. If we don't afford Him that right, then we are not acknowledging Him as Lord.
 
Why do we want to know what's on the other side of that door? Isn't it because we want to reserve the right to determine whether or not we will go through it? Some boldly walk halfway through, but keep their foot in the door just in case they don't like what they see and want to go back. It's going to be awfully hard to continue walking with God if your foot is stuck in the door. Jesus said, "No one, after putting his hand to the plow and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God" (Luke 9:62).
 
One man probably spoke for many when he said, "I'm so used to running my own life. I'm not sure I even can or want to trust someone else. Besides, God would probably haul me off to some mission field I can't stand." What we need to realize is that if we did give our heart to the Lord, and God did call us to that mission field, by the time we got there, we wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
 
Do you believe that the will of God is good, acceptable and perfect for you (Romans 12:2)? That's the heart of the issue. In the Lord's Prayer we are taught to approach God with the intent that His will be accomplished on earth. It makes no sense to petition God if we are not predisposed to do His will.
 
Prayer: Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven, Lord. I open my heart for You to enter and accomplish Your purposes in me today.
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Friday, May 29, 2015

May 29, 2015

Making pancakes - Short Stories





Six-year-old Brandon decided one Saturday morning to fix his parents pancakes He found a big bowl and spoon, pulled a chair to the counter, opened the cupboard and pulled out the heavy flour canister, spilling it on the floor.
He scooped some of the flour into the bowl with his hands, mixed in most of a cup of milk and added some sugar, leaving a floury trail on the floor, which by now had a few tracks left by his kitten.
Brandon was covered with flour and getting frustrated. He wanted this to be something very good for Mom and Dad, but it was getting very bad. He didn't know what to do next, whether to put it all into the oven or on the stove and he didn't know how the stove worked! Suddenly he saw his kitten licking from the bowl of mix and reached to push her away, knocking the egg carton to the floor. Frantically he tried to clean up this monumental mess but slipped on the eggs, getting his pajamas white and sticky.
And just then, he saw Dad standing at the door. Big crocodile tears welled up in Brandon's eyes. All he'd wanted to do was something good, but he'd made a terrible mess. He was sure a scolding was coming, maybe even a spanking. But, his father just watched him.
Then, walking through the mess, he picked up his crying son, hugged him and loved him, getting his own pajamas white and sticky in the process!
That's how God deals with us. We try to do something good in life, but it turns into a mess. Our marriage gets all sticky or we insult a friend, or we can't stand our job, or our health goes sour.
Sometimes we just stand there in tears because we can't think of anything else to do. That's when God picks us up and loves us and forgives us, even though some of our mess gets all over Him.
But just because we might mess up, we can't stop trying to "make pancakes" for God or for others. Sooner or later we'll get it right, and then they'll be glad we tried.
I was thinking, and I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed, friendships that need rekindling or three words needing to be said... sometimes, "I love you" can heal and bless!
Suppose one morning you were called to God... do all of your friends know you care about them? Remind your special friends and relatives that you love them dearly, while you can, even if you don't think they love back. You would be amazed at what those three little words, a smile, and a reminder like this can do.
Pass some of this love on to others... send this to everyone you love... and never stop "making pancakes."
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Wednesday, April 8, 2015

April 08, 2015

Let It Rain - on Piano

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