Amazing Grace

Born into a captain's family who traded at the East India Company, John Newton (July 24, 1725 - December 21, 1807) embarked on sea voyages at the young age of 11. He soon entered the prosperous slave trade until he nearly died on a voyage that would change his life forever. He proclaimed, "Only God's amazing grace could and would take a rude, profane, slave-trading sailor and transform him into a child of God." This would influence his famed hymn Amazing Grace, in which he declared he was once blind but now could see. Newton wrote the hymn after converting to Christianity in 1748 and abandoning his participation in the slave trade. Newton also wrote of his experiences in his autobiography An Authentic Narrative published in 1764, the same year he was ordained as a priest in the Church of England. John Newton went on to write many other hymns as well.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,

That saved a wretch like me....

I once was lost but now am found,

Was blind, but now, I see.

T'was Grace that taught...

my heart to fear.

And Grace, my fears relieved.

How precious did that Grace appear...

the hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares...

we have already come.

T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far...

and Grace will lead us home.

The Lord has promised good to me...

His word my hope secures.

He will my shield and portion be...

as long as life endures.

When we've been here ten thousand years...

bright shining as the sun.

We've no less days to sing God's praise...

then when we've first begun.

Unfolding the Rose

A young, new preacher was walking with an older, more seasoned preacher in the garden one day. Feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to do, he was asking the older preacher for some advice.

The older preacher walked up to a rosebush and handed the young preacher a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing off any petals. The young preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the will of God for his life and ministry.

But because of his great respect for the older preacher, he proceeded to try to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact. It wasn't long before he realized how impossible this was to do.

Noticing the younger preacher's inability to unfold the rosebud without tearing it, the older preacher began to recite the following poem:

It is only a tiny rosebud,

A flower of God's design;

But I cannot unfold the petals,

With these clumsy hands of mine.

The secret of unfolding flowers,

Is not known to such as me.

GOD opens this flower so sweetly,

Then, in my hands, they die.

If I cannot unfold a rosebud,

This flower of God's design,

Then how can I have the wisdom

To unfold this life of mine?

So I'll trust in Him for

leading Each moment of my day.

I will look to Him for His guidance

Each step of the pilgrim way.

The pathway that lies before me,

Only my Heavenly Father knows.

I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,

Just as He unfolds the rose.

My times are in your hands; - Psalm 31:15

Pay back time

The man slowly looked up. This was a woman clearly accustomed to the finer things of life. Her coat was new. She looked like that she had never missed a meal in her life. His first thought was that she wanted to make fun of him, like so many others had done before.

"Leave me alone," he growled.

To his amazement, the woman continued standing. She was smiling -- her even white teeth displayed in dazzling rows."Are you hungry?" she asked.

"No," he answered sarcastically. "I've just come from dining with the

president. Now go away." The woman's smile became even broader. Suddenly the man felt a gentle hand under his arm.

"What are you doing, lady?"the man asked angrily. "I said to leave me alone."

Just then a policeman came up. "Is there any problem, ma'am?" he asked.

"No problem here, officer," the woman answered. "I'm just trying to get this man to his feet. Will you help me?"

The officer scratched his head. "That's old Jack. He's been a fixture around here for a couple of years. What do you want with him?"

"See that cafeteria over there?" she asked. "I'm going to get him something to eat and get him out of the cold for awhile."

"Are you crazy, lady?" the homeless man resisted. "I don't want to go in there!" Then he felt strong hands grab his other arm and lift him up.

"Let me go, officer. I didn't do anything."

"This is a good deal for you, Jack," the officer answered. "Don't blow it."

Finally, and with some difficulty, the woman and the police officer got Jack into the cafeteria and sat him at a table in a remote corner. It was the middle of the morning, so most of the breakfast crowd had already left and the lunch bunch had not yet arrived. The manager strode across the cafeteria and stood by he table.

"What's going on here, officer?" he asked. "What is all this. Is this man in trouble?"

"This lady brought this man in here to be fed," the policeman answered.

"Not in here!" the manager replied angrily. "Having a person like that here is bad for business."

Old Jack smiled a toothless grin. "See, lady. I told you so. Now if you'll

let me go. I didn't want to come here in the first place."

The woman turned to the cafeteria manager and smiled. "Sir, are you familiar with Eddy and Associates, the banking firm down the street?"

"Of course I am," the manager answered impatiently. "They hold their weekly meetings in one of my banquet rooms."

"And do you make a goodly amount of money providing food at these weekly meetings?"

"What business is that of yours?"

"I, sir, am Penelope Eddy, president and CEO of the company."

"Oh."

The woman smiled again. "I thought that might make a difference." She glanced at the cop who was busy stifling a giggle. "Would you like to join us in a cup of coffee and a meal, officer?"

"No thanks, ma'am," the officer replied. "I'm on duty."

"Then, perhaps, a cup of coffee to go?"

"Yes, ma'am. That would be very nice."

The cafeteria manager turned on his heel. "I'll get your coffee for you right away, officer."

The officer watched him walk away. "You certainly put him in his place," he said.

"That was not my intent. Believe it or not, I have a reason for all this."

She sat down at the table across from her amazed dinner guest. She stared at him intently. "Jack, do you remember me?"

Old Jack searched her face with his old, rheumy eyes "I think so -- I mean you do look familiar."

"I'm a little older perhaps," she said. "Maybe I've even filled out more than in my younger days when you worked here, and I came through that very door, cold and hungry."

"Ma'am?" the officer said questioningly. He couldn't believe that such a

magnificently turned out woman could ever have been hungry.

"I was just out of college," the woman began. "I had come to the city looking for a job, but I couldn't find anything. Finally I was down to my last few cents and had been kicked out of my apartment. I walked the streets for days. It was February and I was cold and nearly starving. I saw this place and walked in on the off chance that I could get something to eat."

Jack lit up with a smile. "Now I remember," he said. "I was behind the serving counter. You came up and asked me if you could work for something to eat. I said that it was against company policy."

"I know," the woman continued. "Then you made me the biggest roast beef sandwich that I had ever seen, gave me a cup of coffee, and told me to go over to a corner table and enjoy it. I was afraid that you would get into trouble. Then, when I looked over, I saw you put the price of my food in the cash register. I knew then that everything would be all right."

"So you started your own business?" Old Jack said.

"I got a job that very afternoon. I worked my way up. Eventually I started my own business, that, with the help of God, prospered." She opened her purse and pulled out a business card. "When you are finished here, I want you to pay a visit to a Mr. Lyons. He's the personnel director of my company. I'll go talk to him now and I'm certain he'll find something for you to do around the office." She smiled. "I think he might even find the funds to give you a little advance so that you can buy some clothes and get a place to live until you get on your feet. If you ever need anything, my door is always opened to you."

There were tears in the old man's eyes. "How can I ever thank you? " he said.

"Don't thank me," the woman answered. "To God goes the glory. Thank Jesus. He led me to you."

Outside the cafeteria, the officer and the woman paused at the entrance before going their separate ways. "Thank you for all your help, officer," she said.

"On the contrary, Ms. Eddy," he answered. "Thank you. I saw a miracle today, something that I will never forget. And...And thank you for the coffee."

THANK YOU, LORD

A newly arrived soul in Heaven was met by St. Peter. The saint toured the soul around Heaven. Both of them walked side by side inside a large workroom filled with angels.

St. Peter stopped in front of the first section and said, "This is the Receiving Section. Here, all the petitions to God said in prayer are received". The soul looked at the section, and it was terribly busy with so many angels sorting out petitions written on voluminous paper sheets from all the people of the world.

They walked again until they reached the 2nd section, and St. Peter told the soul, "This is the Packaging and Delivery Section. Here, the graces and blessings the people asked for are packed and delivered to the persons who asked for them down on earth."

The soul saw how busy it was. There were so many angels working in that room, since so many blessing were being packed and delivered to Earth.

Finally at the farthest corner of the room, the soul stopped at the last section. To the surprise of the soul, only one angel stayed there idly, doing nothing. "This is the Acknowledging

Section," St. Peter told the soul. "How is it that, there is no work here?" "That's the sad thing," St. Peter answered. "After the people received the blessings they asked for, very few send their acknowledgments".

"How does one acknowledge God's blessing?" "Simple," St. Peter answered. "Just say, "'Thank you, Lord'."

What shall I render unto the LORD for all his benefits toward me? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the LORD. I will pay my vows unto the LORD now in the presence of all his people. — Psalm 116:12-14

It Was Only a Quarter

Several years ago, a preacher from out-of-state accepted a call to a church in Houston, Texas. Some weeks after he arrived, he had an occasion to ride the bus from his home to the downtown area. When he sat down, he discovered that the driver had accidentally given him a quarter too much change.

As he considered what to do, he thought to himself, "You'd better give the quarter back. It would be wrong to keep it." Then he thought, "Oh, forget it, it's only a quarter. Who would worry about this little amount? Anyway, the bus company gets too much fare; they will never miss it. Accept it as a 'gift from God' and keep quiet."

When his stop came, he paused momentarily at the door, then he handed the quarter to the driver and said, "Here, you gave me too much change."

The driver, with a smile, replied, "Aren't you the new preacher in town? I have been thinking a lot lately about going somewhere to worship. I just wanted to see what you would do if I gave you too much change. I'll see you at church on Sunday."

When the preacher stepped off of the bus, he literally grabbed the nearest light pole, held on, and said, "Oh God, I almost sold your Son for a quarter."

Our lives are the only Bible some people will ever read. This is a really scary example of how much people watch us as Christians and will put us to the test! Always be on guard and remember that you carry the name of Christ on your shoulders when you call yourself "Christian."

Watch your thoughts; they become words.

Watch your words; they become actions.

Watch your actions; they become habits.

Watch your habits; they become character.

Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.

There are two ways of spreading the light.

"One is to be the light; the other is to be the mirror that reflects the light" - Edith Wharton

The Lady And The Basket

A funny story tells about an old lady who was living in the village. She had never owned nor even been in a car before. One day, she was returning home from the market carrying a big heavy basket on her head, when a rich man riding his car passed by. Kindly, he offered to drive the lady to her home. She thanked him and got into the car with her basket.

On the way, the man glanced at the lady in the mirror, still holding her basket over her head. Astonished, he asked her to lay the basket down in the car and rest. The old lady naively replied, "Oh my son, your car is carrying me; this is enough, I should not burden it carrying my basket too!" What an innocently funny response!

We sometimes do the same with God. Everyday, God carries us during the day. Still, we insist on carrying our heavy baskets of worries and fear of the future, for family, kids, spouses, money, jobs, etc... We are carried by Almighty Hands, watched over by Sleepless Eyes and God plans our future. Let us then relax and lay down everything in God's Hands. The old lady, if she agreed to lay down the basket, would have to carry it again when she returned home. But the beautiful thing about God is that once we cast our heavy basket in His Hands we do not need to think about it anymore.

Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. - Matthew 11:28

The City Of Heaven

There once was a rich man who was near death. He was very grieved because he had worked so hard for his money and wanted to be able to take it with him to heaven. So he began to pray that he might be able to take some of his wealth with him.

An angel heard his plea and appeared to him. "Sorry, but you can't take your wealth with you." The man begged the angel to speak to God to see if He might bend the rules. The man continued to pray that his wealth could follow him. The angel reappeared and informed the man that God had decided to allow him to take one suitcase with him. Overjoyed, the man gathered his largest suitcase and filled it with pure gold bars and placed it beside his bed.

Soon afterward, he died and showed up at the gates of heaven to greet St. Peter. St. Peter, seeing the suitcase, said, "Hold on, you can't bring that in here!" The man explained to St. Peter that he had permission and asked him to verify his story with the Lord. Sure enough, St. Peter checked it out, came back and said, "You're right. You are allowed one carry-on bag, but I'm supposed to check its contents before letting it through." St. Peter opened the suitcase to inspect the worldly items that the man found too precious to leave behind and exclaimed, "You brought pavement?"

Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus - Philippians 3:13-14

THE STONE CUTTER

There was once a stone cutter who was dissatisfied with himself and with his position in life.

One day he passed a wealthy merchant’s house. Through the open gateway, he saw many fine possessions and important visitors. “How powerful that merchant must be!” thought the stone cutter. He became very envious and wished that he could be like the merchant.

To his great surprise, he suddenly became the merchant, enjoying more luxuries and power than he had ever imagined, but was envied and detested by those less wealthy than himself. Soon a high official passed by, carried in a sedan chair, accompanied by attendants and escorted by soldiers beating gongs. Everyone, no matter how wealthy, had to bow low before the procession. “How powerful that official is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a high official!”

Then he became the high official, carried everywhere in his embroidered sedan chair, feared and hated by the people all around. It was a hot summer day, so the official felt very uncomfortable in the sticky sedan chair. He looked up at the sun. It shone proudly in the sky, unaffected by his presence. “How powerful the sun is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the sun!”

Then he became the sun, shining fiercely down on everyone, scorching the fields, cursed by the farmers and laborers. But a huge black cloud moved between him and the earth, so that his light could no longer shine on everything below. “How powerful that storm cloud is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a storm cloud!”

Then he became the storm cloud, flooding the fields and villages, shouted at by everyone. But soon he found that he was being pushed away by some great force, and realized that it was the wind. “How powerful it is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be the wind!”

Then he became the wind, blowing tiles off the roofs of houses, uprooting trees, feared and hated by all below him. But after a while, he ran up against something that would not move, no matter how forcefully he blew against it – a huge, towering rock. “How powerful that rock is!” he thought. “I wish that I could be a rock!”

Then he became the rock, more powerful than anything else on earth. But as he stood there, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding a chisel into the hard surface, and felt himself being changed. “What could be more powerful than I, the rock?” he thought.

He looked down and saw far below him the figure of a stone cutter.

Before I formed you in the womb I knew you. (Jeremiah 1:5)

What do you sow

A successful building contractor called in one of his employees, a skilled carpenter, and told him that he was putting him in charge of the next house the company was building. He instructed the carpenter to order all of the materials and oversee the entire process from the ground up.

The carpenter excitedly accepted his assignment. It was his first opportunity to actually oversee an entire building project. He studied the blueprints and checked every measurement.

Then he thought, “If I am really in charge, why can’t I cut a few corners, use less expensive materials, and put the extra money in my pocket? Who would know the difference? After we paint the place, no one would be able to tell.”

The carpenter set about with his scheme. He used second-grade lumber and ordered inexpensive concrete for the foundation. He put in cheap wiring. He cut every corner he possibly could, but reported the use of higher-quality building materials.

When the home was completed, he asked his boss to come and see it. His boss looked it over and said, “This is incredible. You did a fantastic job. You have been such a good and faithful worker and have been so honest all of these years that I am showing my gratitude by giving you this house.”

We will reap what we sow. Just as we can’t plant weeds and reap flowers, we can’t sin and reap righteousness. There are reactions to our actions. Think about it: every day, we are either sowing to the Spirit or we are sowing to the flesh.

What kind of seeds will you sow today?

Every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. - Matthew 7:17

WHY JESUS

One winter night this farmer heard an irregular thumping sound against the kitchen storm door. He went to the window and watched as tiny, shivering sparrows, attracted to the evident warmth inside, beat in vain against the glass.

Touched, the farmer bundled up and trudged through fresh snow to open the barn door for the struggling birds. He turned on the lights and tossed some hay in a corner. But the sparrows, which had scattered in all directions when he emerged from the house, hid in the darkness afraid. They were confused and did not know what to do.

The man tried various tactics to get them into the barn. He laid down a trail of Saltine cracker crumbs to direct them. He tried circling behind the birds to drive them toward the barn. Nothing worked. In their eyes he was a huge alien creature and the birds were terrified of him; the birds couldn’t comprehend that he actually desired to help. That he did not want to see them be harmed. He wanted to give them a chance to continue living. But they just hid in the darkness staying clear of the farmer. All they had to do was go towards the light in barn and they would be warm and safe.

The farmer withdrew to his house and watched the doomed sparrows through a window. As he stared, a thought hit him like lightning strike: “If only I could become a bird – one of them – just for a season. Then I wouldn’t frighten them. I could show them the way to warmth and safety.” At the same moment, another thought dawned on him. He had grasped the reason of WHY JESUS?

The Winner

A Minister was walking down the street when he came upon a group of about a dozen boys, all of them between 10 and 12 years of age.

The group had surrounded a dog. Concerned lest the boys were hurting the dog, he went over and asked “What are you doing with that dog?”

One of the boys replied, “This dog is just an old neighborhood stray. We all want him, but only one of us can take him home. So we’ve decided that whichever one of us can tell the biggest lie will get to keep the dog.”

Of course, the reverend was taken aback. “You boys shouldn’t be having a contest telling lies!” he exclaimed. He then launched into a ten minute sermon against lying, beginning, “Don’t you boys know it’s a sin to lie,” and ending with, “Why, when I was your age, I never told a lie.”

There was dead silence for about a minute. Just as the reverend was beginning to think he’d gotten through to them, the smallest boy gave a deep sigh and said, “All right, give him the dog.”

Your talk talks and walk your talks

But your walk talks better than your talk talks.

Give all you can

In 1731 John Wesley the founder of Methodism began to limit his expenses so that he would have more money to give to the poor.

In the first year his income was 30 pounds and he found he could live on 28 and so gave away two.

In the second year his income doubled but he held his expenses even, and so he had 32 pounds to give away (a comfortable year’s income).

In the third year his income jumped to 90 pounds and gave away 62 pounds.

In his long life Wesley’s income advanced to as high as 1,400 pounds in a year. But he rarely let his expenses rise above 30 pounds. He said that he seldom had more than 100 pounds in his possession at a time.

This so baffled the English Tax Commissioners that they investigated him in 1776 insisting that for a man of his income he must have silver dishes that he was not paying excise tax on.

He wrote them, “I have two silver spoons at London and two at Bristol. This is all the plate I have at present, and I shall not buy any more while so many round me want bread.”

When he died in 1791 at the age of 87 the only money mentioned in his will was the coins to be found in his pockets and dresser. Most of the 30,000 pounds he had earned in his life had been given away.

He wrote, I cannot help leaving my books behind me whenever God calls me hence; but in every other respect, my own hands will be my executors. In other words, I will put a control on my spending myself, and I will go beyond the tithe for the sake of Christ and his kingdom.

“Make all you can, save all you can, give all you can.”

– John Wesley

THE SON

Years ago, there was a very wealthy man who, with his devoted young son, shared a passion for art collecting. Together they traveled around the world, adding only the finest art treasures to their collection. Priceless works by Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet and many others adorned the walls of the family estate.

The widowed elder man looked on with satisfaction, as his only child became an experienced art collector. The son’s trained eye and sharp business mind caused his father to beam with pride as they dealt with art collectors around the world.

As winter approached, war engulfed the nation, and the young man left to serve his country. After only a few short weeks, his father received a telegram. His beloved son was missing in action. The art collector anxiously awaited more news, fearing he would never see his son again.

Within days, his fears were confirmed. The young man had died while rushing a fellow soldier to a medic.

Distraught and lonely, the old man faced the upcoming Easter holidays with anguish and sadness. The joy of the season, a season that he and his son had so looked forward to, would visit his house no longer. On Easter morning, a knock on the door awakened the depressed old man. As he walked to the door, the masterpieces of art on the walls only reminded him that his son was not coming home. As he opened the door, he was greeted by a soldier with a large package in his hand. He introduced himself to the man by saying, “I was a friend of your son. I was the one he was rescuing when he died. May I come in for a few moments? I have something to show you.”

As the two began to talk, the soldier told of how the man’s son had told every one of his father’s love of fine art. “I’m an artist,” said the soldier, “and I want to give you this.” As the old man unwrapped the package, the paper gave way to reveal a portrait of the man’s son. Though the world would never consider it the work of a genius, the painting featured the young man’s face in striking detail.

Overcome with emotion, the man thanked the soldier, promising to hang the picture above the fireplace. A few hours later, after the soldier had departed, the old man set about his task.

True to his word, the painting went above the fireplace, pushing aside thousands of dollars of paintings. And then the man sat in his chair and spent Easter gazing at the gift he had been given. During the days and weeks that followed, the man realized that even though his son was no longer with him, the boy’s life would live on because of those he had touched. He would soon learn that his son had rescued dozens of wounded soldiers before a bullet stilled his caring heart.

As the stories of his son’s gallantry continued to reach him, fatherly pride and satisfaction began to ease the grief. The painting of his son soon became his most prized possession, far eclipsing any interest in the pieces for which museums around the world clamored.

He told his neighbors it was the greatest gift he had ever received. The following spring, the old man became ill and passed away. The art world was in anticipation.

With the collector’s passing, and his only son dead, those paintings would be sold at an auction. According to the will of the old man, all of the art works would be auctioned on Easter Day, the day he had received his greatest gift.

The day soon arrived and art collectors from around the world gathered to bid on some of the world’s most spectacular paintings. Dreams would be fulfilled this day; greatness would be achieved as many would claim “I have the greatest collection.” The auction began with a painting that was not on any museum’s list. It was the painting of the man’s son. The auctioneer asked for an opening bid. The room was silent. “Who will open the bidding with $100?” he asked. Minutes passed. No one spoke. From the back of the room came, “Who cares about that painting? It’s just a picture of his son.

Let’s forget it and go on to the good stuff.” More voices echoed in agreement. “No, we have to sell this one first,” replied the auctioneer.

“Now, who will take the son?” Finally, a friend of the old man spoke.

“Will you take ten dollars for the painting? That’s all I have. I knew the boy, so I’d like to have it.” “I have ten dollars. Will anyone go higher?” called the auctioneer. After more silence, the auctioneer said, “Going once, going twice. Gone.” The gavel fell. Cheers filled the room and someone exclaimed, “Now we can get on with it and we can bid on these treasures!” The auctioneer looked at the audience and announced the auction was over.

Stunned disbelief quieted the room. Someone spoke up and asked, “What do you mean it’s over? We didn’t come here for a picture of some old guy’s son. What about all of these paintings? There are millions of dollars of art here! I demand that you explain what’s going on here!” The auctioneer replied, “It’s very simple. According to the will of the father, whoever takes the son . . . gets it all!”

Just as those art collectors discovered on that Easter Day, the message is still the same-the love of a Father – a Father whose greatest joy came from His Son who went away and gave his life rescuing others. And because of that Father’s love…whoever takes the Son gets it all.

whoever takes the Son gets it all

– Author Unknown

But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. - Matthew 6:33

Alter Your Course

There was an officer in the navy who had always dreamed of commanding a battleship. He finally achieved that dream and was given commission of the newest and proudest ship in the fleet. One stormy night, as the ship plowed through the seas, the captain was on duty on the bridge when off to the port he spotted a strange light rapidly closing with his own vessel. Immediately he ordered the signalman to flash the message to the unidentified craft, “Alter your course ten degrees to the south.” Only a moment had passed before the reply came: “Alter your course ten degrees to the north.” Determined that his ship would take a backseat to no other, the captain snapped out the order to be sent: “Alter course ten degrees–I am the CAPTAIN!” The response beamed back, “Alter your course ten degrees–I am Seaman Third Class Jones.” Now infuriated, the captain grabbed the signal light with his own hands and fired off: “Alter course, I am a battleship.” The reply came back. “Alter your course, I am a lighthouse.”

No matter how big or important any of us think we are, God’s Word stands forth as an unchanging beacon. All other courses must be altered to His.

–James S. Hewett, Illustrations Unlimited

(Wheaton: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc, 1988 ) p. 208.

Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path. - Psalm 119:105

Abide With Me

Henry F. Lyte(June 1, 1793 – November 20, 1847), a man that had a deep devotion and enjoyed songs that exhibited faith, wrote “Abide With Me.” The last 23 years of his life he suffered health wise but continued to serve the Lord. He was known to have said, “It is better to wear out than to rust out,” but that perfectly described his work ethic. He was the pastor of a poor church in an English seaside village. His congregation was composed largely of seafarers, fishermen, and sailors. Despite his weakened condition and their rough lifestyle, they loved each other. Henry F. Lyte was sickly and unwell much of the time. The song, “Abide With Me” describes the time Lyte spent at this humble church.

As his health started to decline, he preached his last sermon to this congregation on September 4, 1847. His doctor had advised him that he needed to life in a warmer climate. Lyte decided to sail to the much more sunny environment of southern Italy. His last sermon was one that made a lasting impression. Shortly before, he had written the tune to “Abide With Me.” After he finished preaching, that evening he wrote the words to the song.

Henry F. Lyte set sail for southern Europe but died later that same year. This hymn was based on the disciples traveling with Jesus on the way to Emmaus, “Abide with us: for it is toward evening and the day is far spent.”

William Henry Monk later rewrote the music to the song but the words remained the same as they were when Lyte scribed them.

At the end of the Beating Retreat ceremony (held every year on the 29th of January) at Vijay Chowk, the bell towers (of Rashtrapati Bhawan; do they have a complete carillon? I would imagine so…) perform “Abide with me”. If I remember correctly, they begin the tune and the massed bands take it up. The magnificent setting (Lutyens’ Delhi), the chilly winter weather and colourful pageantry of the massed bands – and of course the atmosphere created by the music make for a truly memorable experience. As the last peals roll down Raisina Hill and die away, all the buildings around and including the north and south blocks light up – and the firework display begins.

It is a fact that Gandhi loved this hymn and was said to be a favourite of King George V.

Since 1927 it has been sung before the kick-off at every FA Cup Final and Rugby League Challenge Cup final.

A list of other Popular Usage of this hymn can be found here.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;

The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide.

When other helpers fail and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;

Earth’s joys grow dim; its glories pass away;

Change and decay in all around I see;

O Thou who changest not, abide with me.

Not a brief glance I beg, a passing word;

But as Thou dwell’st with Thy disciples, Lord,

Familiar, condescending, patient, free.

Come not to sojourn, but abide with me.

Come not in terrors, as the King of kings,

But kind and good, with healing in Thy wings,

Tears for all woes, a heart for every plea-

Come, Friend of sinners, and thus bide with me.

Thou on my head in early youth didst smile;

And, though rebellious and perverse meanwhile,

Thou hast not left me, oft as I left Thee,

On to the close, O Lord, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour.

What but Thy grace can foil the tempter’s power?

Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?

Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;

Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.

Where is death’s sting? Where, grave, thy victory?

I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;

Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.

Heaven’s morning breaks, and earth’s vain shadows flee;

In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

ON THE OTHER SIDE

A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was preparing to leave the Examination room and said, “Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies On the other side.”

Very quietly, the doctor said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other Side?”

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

“Did you notice my dog? He’s never Been in this room before. He didn’t know what was inside. He knew nothing Except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in Without fear. I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do Know one thing…I know my Master is there and that is enough.”

– Author Unknown

When you’re down to nothing, God is up to something

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: “How is my little boy? Is he going to be all right? When can I see him?”

The surgeon said, “I’m sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn’t make it.”

Sally said, “Why do little children get cancer? Doesn’t God care any more? Where were you, God, when my son needed you?”

The surgeon asked, “Would you like some time alone with your son? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before he’s transported to the university.”

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. “Would you like a lock of his hair?” the nurse asked.

Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the boy’s hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.

The mother said, “It was Jimmy’s idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. “I said no at first, but Jimmy said, ‘Mom, I won’t be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom.” She went on, “My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if he could.”

Sally walked out of Children’s Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jimmy’s belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jimmy’s belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son’s room.

She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

Dear Mom, I know you’re going to miss me; but don’t think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just ’cause I’m not around to say “I Love You”. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little boy so you won’t be so lonely, that’s okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn’t like the same things us boys do. You’ll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don’t be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn’t look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God’s knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That’s when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn’t allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter. I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him ‘Where was He when I needed him?’ “God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross. He was right there, as He always is with all His children. Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I’ve written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn’t that cool? I have to give God His pen back now. He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I’m sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don’t hurt anymore. The cancer is all gone. I’m glad because I couldn’t stand that pain anymore and God couldn’t stand to see me hurt so much, either. That’s when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from God, Jesus & Me.

That’s What Friends Do

Jack tossed the papers on my desk — his eyebrows knit into a straight line as he glared at me. “What’s wrong?” I asked. He jabbed a finger at the proposal. “Next time you want to change anything, ask me first,” he said, turning on his heels and leaving me stewing in anger.

How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I had changed one long sentence, and corrected grammar — something I thought I was paid to do.

It’s not that I hadn’t been warned. The other women, who had served in my place before me, called him names I couldn’t repeat. One co-worker took me aside the first day. “He’s personally responsible for two different secretaries leaving the firm,” she whispered.

As the weeks went by, I grew to despise Jack. It was against everything I believed in — turn the other cheek and love your enemies. But Jack quickly slapped a verbal insult on any cheek turned his way. I prayed about it, but to be honest, I wanted to put him in his place, not love him.

One day, another of his episodes left me in tears. I stormed into his office, prepared to lose my job if needed, but not before I let the man know how I felt. I opened the door and Jack glanced up.

“What?” he said abruptly.

Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it.

I sat across from him. “Jack, the way you’ve been treating me is wrong. I’ve never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it’s wrong, and it’s wrong for me to allow it to continue,” I said.

Jack snickered nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed my eyes briefly. God help me, I prayed.

“I want to make you a promise. I will be a friend,” I said. “I will treat you as you deserve to be treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that,” I said. “Everybody does” I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind me.

Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals, specs, and letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch, and the corrected versions were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day and left a batch on Jack’s desk. Another day I left a note. “Hope your day is going great,” it read.

Over the next few weeks, Jack reappeared. He was reserved, but there were no other episodes. Co-workers cornered me in the break room.

“Guess you got to Jack,” they said. “You must have told him off good”. I shook my head.

“Jack and I are becoming friends,” I said in faith. I refused to talk about him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall, I smiled at him.

After all, that’s what friends do.

One year after our “talk” I discovered I had breast cancer. I was 32, the mother of three beautiful young children, and scared. The cancer had metastasized to my lymph nodes and the statistics were not great for long-term survival. After surgery, I visited with friends and loved ones who tried to find the right words to say. No one knew what to say. Many said the wrong things. Others wept, and I tried to encourage them. I clung to hope.

The last day of my hospital stay, the door darkened and Jack stood awkwardly on the threshold. I waved him in with a smile and he walked over to my bed and, without a word, placed a bundle beside me. Inside lay several bulbs.

“Tulips,” he said.

I smiled, not understanding.

He cleared his throat. “If you plant them when you get home, they’ll come up next spring.” He shuffled his feet. “I just wanted you to know that I think you’ll be there to see them when they come up.”

Tears clouded my eyes and I reached out my hand.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Jack grasped my hand and gruffly replied, “You’re welcome. You can’t see it now, but next spring you’ll see the colors I picked out for you.” He turned and left without a word.

I have seen those red and white striped tulips push through the soil every spring for over ten years now. In fact, this September the doctor will declare me cured. I’ve seen my children graduate from high school and enter college.

In a moment when I prayed for just the right word, a man with very few words said all the right things.

After all, that’s what friends do.

Dear friends, since God loved us as much as that, we surely ought to love each other too.
- 1 John 4:11

This is what Love is all about

It was a busy morning, approximately 8:30 am, When an elderly gentleman in his 80’s, arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry as he had an appointment at 9:00 am. I took his vital signs and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would to able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound. On exam it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redress his wound. While taking care of his wound, we began to engage in conversation I asked him if he had a doctor’s appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I then inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for a while and that she was a victim of Alzheimer Disease.

As we talked, and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, that she had not recognized him in five years now. I was surprised, and asked him. “And you still go every morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are?” He smiled as he patted my hand and said. “She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is.”

I had to hold back tears as he left, I had goose bumps on my arm, and thought, “That is the kind of love I want in my life.” This is what jesus had in us.

True love is neither physical, nor romantic. True love is an acceptance of all that is, has been, will be, and will not be.

“The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best of everything;

they just make the best of everything that comes along their way.”

– Author Unknown