Me: We have to examine why and take it to the Lord.
This is from the book The Power of a Woman’s Words by Sharon Jaynes
Where does anger come from, anyway? It is a reaction to irritating people and circumstances, you might say. But I believe that the root cause of anger is self-centeredness. We live in a world that tells us “It’s all about me!” And when something doesn’t suit the center of our universe–me–then anger erupts. That’s difficult to admit, isn’t it? Here’s a little test. Each time you become angry over the next few days, ask yourself this question: Am I angry because I didn’t get what I wanted when I wanted it?
Verily, verily, I say unto you, The hour is coming, and now is, when the dead shall hear the voice of the Son of God: and they that hear shall live. John 5:25 (KJV)
This is from the book The Soul Winner by C.H. Spurgeon
The genuine soulwinner knows what this means. For my part, when the Lord helps me to preach, after I have delivered all my matter and have fired off my shot so fast that my gun has grown hot, I have often rammed my soul into the gun and fired my heart at the congregation. This discharge has, under God, won the victory. God will bless by His Spirit our hearty sympathy with His own truth, and make it do that which the truth alone, coldly spoken, would not accomplish.
But we were gentle among you, even as a nurse cherisheth her children; so, being affectionately desirous of you, we were willing to have imparted unto you, not the gospel of God only, but also our own souls, because ye were dear unto us. 1 Thessalonians 2:7-8
Me: When you run alone; it’s called a race. When you run with God, it’s called grace.
This is from Jack Armstrong
Things weren’t going as I had expected that blustery March night in 1972 over Arkansas.
I was flying a single-engine four-seat Cherokee 180 from Chicago for delivery to Houston and had planned to reach Shreveport, Louisiana, that night. But as I passed over Fort Smith, Arkansas, I recomputed my ground speed and found that I was pushing into a head wind of much greater velocity than had been forecast. That meant I would not have enough fuel to reach Shreveport.
It was 8:00pm. A light rain beat against my windshield like scatter shot and a heavy overcast blocked out any moonlight. Even at my assigned altitude of seven thousand feet, I couldn’t see a thing; it was pitch black outside my cockpit windows. Instrument weather.
No problem, though. Over my radio I requested clearance to land at nearby Texarkana, Arkansas.
Texarkana approach control came on clear: “Okay, Cherokee seven-nine-four-eight-n, descend and maintain two thousand feet; you are cleared for an instrument approach to the airport.”
I settled back. I enjoyed these flights. Ever since I got out of the Navy in 1971, flying had been my main goal in life. And I was doing all right with it. I figured I could take care of myself.
I finished my landing check list and, by instrument check, found my position to be about thirty miles north-northwest of the Texarkana airport. I knew that a thick forest of pine trees and rolling hills were beneath me.
Suddenly my engine coughed, quit..started…and quit again! What was wrong? Frantically I checked instruments. There was plenty of fuel. I pushed controls, checked again. Nothing. A cold fear seized me.
Now only wind noise filled the cockpit as my 2450-pound plane began its inexorable drop to earth. I sat helpless at the dead controls as my ship hurtled into the total blackness. Terror shot through me as I thought of smashing into the thick pines that would tear my ship to shreds.
I began a series of emergency measures. I radioed a Mayday distress call to the air controller, advising him of my situation. Then I set the Cherokee into a glide speed of eighty miles an hour, extended-ten degree flaps, and noted that we were dropping 1100 feet per minute. That meant less than two minutes before we could crash. I still could not see anything outside the windows.
I then did the only other thing I could do. “O Lord Jesus,” I prayed, “into Your hands I come.”
Suddenly, unbelievably, a complete peace filled the cabin Fear left me In its place I felt a strange presence. Words seemed to fill my mind–words of calm and reassurance. Everything is going to be all right. Look off your left wing.
Then, through a clear spot in the murky skies, I saw a light from a house porch. Instinctively I swung the plane toward it. Again the Voice in my mind. Now look below to your right.
When I looked, I saw the headlights of two cars coming toward me.
Head directly for those two cars; everything is going to be all right. The deep indescribable feeling of peace and beauty intensified.
I kept heading toward the headlights; they were the only thing I could see outside the cockpit. The plane shuddered from wind gusts as we silently sped downward. I switched on my landing lights and continued on.
Whoosh! I passed about thirty feet over the first car and was immediately engulfed by tall dark trees racing close by on both sides. I sensed I was lined up with the highway, but I seemed to by flying into a tunnel.
The Voice kept assuring me. Everything will be all right.
Now the second car was facing me head-on and I felt sure we’d collide. I tried to turn the plane, but my hands and legs would not respond.
Keep heading for that car, continued the soft, soothing Voice. Everything is going to be all right.
My air speed had dropped drastically; the red stall light was frantically indicating that there wasn’t enough air flow over my wings to maintain a safe glide.
Then I felt an impulse to do the strangest thing. Despite my critically low air speed, I was suddenly prompted to pull back on the controls, raising the plane’s nose into a high attitude so that the lighter tail section would hit the oncoming car first. Ordinarily such a maneuver would lead to a total stall and crash. I waited for the impact.
There was none. Instead, the highway pavement appeared in my landing lights, rising steeply. I was heading uphill! But because of my high nose attitude, the plane set down on the concrete in a perfect three-point landing. I rolled to the top of the hill and began using my brakes. There at the side of the highway was a roadside cafe, its neon sign saying “Penney’s Cafe” glowing. I kept using the brakes, rolled into the cafe’s parking lot and stopped.
Suddenly the immensity of the incredible thing that had happened overwhelmed me. All I could do was sit there thanking God.
Light flooded the parking lot as the cafe door opened and a man walked toward me. “How did you get here?” he asked in astonishment.
“A miracle of God,” I said in a chocked voice.
I asked the man to check down the road; I was worried about the people I might have run off the highway. After ten minutes he came back. He had found no one and did not recall seeing any cars earlier.
Were those lights real, I wondered, or had the Lord put them there just for me? All I know is that if I had not lifted my plane’s nose to avoid the second car, I certainly would have slammed into the inclined highway. My lights did not shine far enough for me to react to landing uphill. The impact probably would have caused the plane to explode, since I had about fifteen gallons of fuel left in the wing tanks.
There was not a scratch on the plane. The air traffic controllers in Texarkana were amazed to find me alive. What had caused the engine to quit? A clogged fuel line.
I learned that the road I had landed on was U.S. Highway 71. So that night after I checked into a motel, just out of curiosity I picked up the Bible in my room and turned to the 71st Psalm. It began, “In thee, O Lord, do I put my trust. Let me never be put to confusion….”
I put the book down and looked out the window. The dark mist was falling and the sky was still black. But I knew that above the overcast the stars were still shining, though I couldn’t see them. And now I knew, more certainly than ever before, that the Lord of Heaven was there as well.
And I besought the LORD at that time, saying, Deuteronomy 3:23 (KJV)
This is from the book No Man Is An Island by Thomas Merton
To love another is to will what is really good for him. Such love must be based on truth. A love that sees no distinction between good and evil, but loves blindly merely for the sake of loving, is hatred, rather than love. To love blindly is to love selfishly, because the goal of such love is not the real advantage of the beloved but only the exercise of love in our own souls. Such love cannot seem to be love unless it pretends to seek the good of the one loved. But since, it actually cares nothing for the truth, and never considers that it may go astray, it proves itself to be selfish. It does not seek the true advantage of the beloved or even or own. It is not interested in the truth, but only in itself. It proclaims itself content with an apparent good: which is the exercise of love for its own sake, without any consideration of the good or bad effects of loving.
For the grave cannot praise thee, death can not celebrate thee: they that go down into the pit cannot hope for thy truth. Isaiah 38:18 (KJV)
This is from the book Growing Up Social by by Gary Chapman and Arlene Pellicane
Kids know all sorts of things about video games, cartoons, and the latest apps. But they lack instruction about character. Virtues are behaviors that show high moral standards. Responsibility. Compassion. Persistence. Faith. There is no virtue app you can download into your child’s heart and mind. Virtues are taught and caught as children observe and listen to their parents talk about what is right and what is wrong.
And the man bowed down his head, and worshipped the LORD. Genesis 24:26
Today I met God,” whispered four-year-old Akiane to her mother.
“What is God?” asked her mother, Foreli, who was raised as an atheist in Lithuania.
“God is light–warm and good. It knows everything and talks with me. It is my parent.”
The family had never talked religion, never gone to church, they didn’t even own a TV, and so this shocked Foreli. “Who is your God?” questioned her mother.
“I cannot tell you.”
“Me? You cannot tell your own mom?”
“The Light told me not to.” Little Akiane held firm. “You won’t understand.”
About the same time Akiane claimed to have visits with God, she began to draw. But her drawings at age four or five surpassed high school-level art students-it seemed miraculous. After drawing “her angel,” she explained, “She doesn’t smile in my picture, because paper is not white enough to show how white her teeth are, and I wanted to show how she talks to me with her eyes (through her thoughts). You see, where God takes me, He teaches me how to draw.”
Akiane claimed God took her to Heaven where she saw a “house of light with walls like glass” where God lives, a place of beautiful grass, trees, plants, and fruit. She claimed God gave her fruit in Heaven: “It taste good, better than anything you’ve ever tasted. The Light gives me fruit.”
“What fruit?” asked her mom.
“To breathe.”
“What do you mean?”
“To live…God says many will need to eat that. The tree will always be there on a new earth.” Though only four years old, her descriptions matched what Scripture describes (Ezekiel 1:22, Revelation 2:7, 21:11, 21), but her mother did not know this.
“I am good there, and I listen there,” explained Akiane. “Everyone listens there–God is there….The music there is alive.” Akaine’s talk of God the Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit combined with her supernatural gift for art eventually led her family to faith. As Akiane grew, her miraculous artistic abilities expanded from drawings to paintings, and at age seven she began composing miraculously mature, spiritual poems.
By age eight, Akiane’s paintings of Jesus were gaining world wide recognition. She claimed to see Jesus in Heaven and painted the renowned works The Prince of Peace and Father Forgive Them as a result. Every major news program in American and many around the world began to recognize her as the only binary child prodigy alive (for art and poetry). She says the purpose of her amazing art is “to draw people’s attention to God, and I want my poetry to keep their attention on God.”
At age nine, she painted another picture of Jesus in the cosmos. Her mother asked her about a planet. “Oh, that’s the new earth. I just felt that I had to include it. I don’t remember where, when, or how, but the earth will change. All I know if that everything will be different. There will be no fear, no hatred, and no hunger or pain. Only love” (Revelation 21:4).
“Is your Jesus looking at the galaxies?” her mother questioned as they looked at the painting.
“He is talking with his Father in heaven…about the future of our world. I think Jesus will come back in full power very soon. In the back of him you can see the whole birth process of our new universe.”
World-renowned by age ten, she began to get tough questions. One day someone asked Akiane why she had decided on Christianity rather than a different world religion. “I didn’t choose Christianity,” Akaine replied. “I chose Jesus Christ. I am painting and writing what God shows me. I don’t know much about the religions, but I know this: God looks at our love.”
At an art exhibit, one man confronted her. “I am a Buddhist. You called Jesus the “Prince of Peace,” yet in his name so many people were massacred. How do you explain that?”
“Jesus is peace, just like calm water,” ten-year old Akiane answered, “but anyone can drop a stone into water and make it muddy.”
The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb (Jesus) is its lamp.” (Revelation 21:23)
