The Holy Alphabet

The Holy Alphabet... This is Beautiful



Although things are not perfect
Because of trial or pain
C ontinue in thanksgiving
Do not begin to blame
Even when the times are hard
Fierce winds are bound to blow
God is forever able
Hold on to what you know
Imagine life without His love
J oy would cease to be
Keep thanking Him for all the things
Love imparts to thee
Move out of "Camp Complaining"
No weapon that is known
On earth can yield the power
Praise can do alone
Quit looking at the future
Redeem the time at hand
Start every day with worship
To "thank" is a command
Until we see Him coming
Victorious in the sky
We'll run the race with gratitude
X alting God most high
Y es, there'll be good times and yes some will be bad, but....
Z ion waits in glory...where none are ever sad!

"I AM Too blessed to be stressed!" The shortest distance between a problem and a solution is the distance between your knees and the floor. The one who kneels to the Lord can stand up to anything. Love and peace be with you forever, Amen.

a new version of the poem called footprints

This new version of the 'footprints' story really caught me off-guard at the end....What a blessing.
Just Read It!

FOOTPRINTS...A New Version

Imagine you and the Lord Jesus are walking down the road together. For much of the way, the Lord's footprints go along steadily, consistently, rarely varying the pace.

But your footprints are a disorganized stream of zigzags, starts, stops, turnarounds, circles, departures, and returns.

For much of the way, it seems to go like this, but gradually your footprints come more in line with the Lord's, soon paralleling, His consistently...

You and Jesus are walking as true friends!

This seems perfect, but then an interesting thing happens: Your footprints that once etched the sand next to Jesus' are now walking precisely in His steps.

Inside His larger footprints are your smaller ones, you and Jesus are becoming one..

This goes on for many miles, but gradually you notice another change. The footprints inside the large footprints seem to grow larger.

Eventually they disappear altogether. There is only one set of footprints.. They have become one.

This goes on for a long time, but suddenly the second set of footprints is back. This time it seems even worse! Zigzags all over the place. Stops. Starts. Gashes in the sand. A variable mess of prints.

You are amazed and shocked. Your dream ends. Now you pray: 'Lord, I understand the first scene, with zigzags and fits. I was a new Christian; I was just learning. But You walked on through the storm and helped me learn to walk with You.'

'That is correct.'
'And when the smaller footprints were inside of Yours, I was actually learning to walk in Your steps, following You very closely..'

'Very good.. You have understood everything so far..' When the smaller footprints grew and filled in Yours, I suppose that I was becoming like You in every way.'

'Precisely.'
'So, Lord, was there a regression or something ? The footprints separated, and this time it was worse than at first.'

There is a pause as the Lord answers, with a smile in His voice.

'You didn't know? It was then that we danced!'


To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven: A time to weep, a time to laugh, a time to mourn, and a time to dance. Ecclesiastes 3:1-4

Different poem of Mary Had a little LAmb

Good to know that God does the judging.

BEST POEM IN THE WORLD

I was shocked, confused, bewildered
As I entered Heaven's door,
Not by the beauty of it all,
Nor the lights, or its decor.

But it was the folks in Heaven
Who made me sputter and gasp--
The thieves, the liars, the sinners,
The alcoholics, and the trash.

There stood the kid from seventh grade
Who swiped my lunch money twice.
Next to him was my old neighbor
Who never said anything nice.

Bob, who I always thought
Was rotting away in hell,
Was sitting pretty on cloud nine,
Looking incredibly well.

I nudged Jesus, 'What's the deal?
I would love to hear Your take.
How'd all these sinners get up here?
God must've made a mistake.

'And why is everyone so quiet,
So somber - give me a clue.'
'Hush, child,' He said,
'they're all in shock.
No one thought they'd be seeing you.'

JUDGE NOT!!

Remember...Just going to church doesn't make you a
Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car.

Every saint has a PAST...
Every sinner has a FUTURE!


Now it's your turn... Share this poem.



Life without God is like an unsharpened Pencil.

It has no point.

Jelly Bean Poem

A BAG FULL OF JELLY BEANS
COLORFUL AND SWEET,
IS A PRAYER, IS A PROMISE,
IS A SPECIAL TREAT
MAY THE JOY OF CHRIST'S RESURRECTION
FILL YOUR HEART AND BLESS YOUR LIFE.

RED IS FOR

THE BLOOD HE GAVE.

GREEN IS FOR

THE GRASS HE MADE.

YELLOW IS FOR

THE SUN SO BRIGHT.

ORANGE IS FOR

THE EDGE OF NIGHT.

BLACK IS FOR

THE SINS WE MADE.

WHITE IS FOR

THE GRACE HE GAVE.

PURPLE IS FOR

HIS HOUR OF SORROW.

PINK IS FOR

OUR NEW TOMORROW.

==============================================

here is another version og the poem

LITTLE JELLY BEAN


Little jelly beans, tell a story true
A tale of our Father’s love –


Just for you and me.


Green is for the waving palms
Red is for His precious blood
Black is for the sin He washed from your soul and mine
White is for our hearts now clean from sin
Purple’s for the sadness of His family and friends
And Yellow is for the glory of the day He rose again.


Now you’ve heard the story,
you know what each colour means.
The story of our Father’s love told by some jelly beans.
So every morning take a bean,
they’re really very yummy.
Something for the soul, you see,
and something for the tummy.

================================================
one more
Red is for the blood He gave.
Green is for the grass He made.
Yellow is for the sun so bright.
Orange is for the edge of night.
Black is for the sins we made.
White is for the grace He gave.
Purple is for His hour of sorrow.
Pink is for a new tomorrow.
And handful of jelly beans,
Colorful and sweet,
Is a prayer, a promise,
A loved one’s treat!
Happy Resurrection Sunday!

God’s Valentine Gift

God’s Valentine Gift

God’s Valentine gift of love to us
Was not a bunch of flowers;
It wasn’t candy, or a book
To while away the hours.

His gift was to become a man,
So He could freely give
His sacrificial love for us,
So you and I could live.

He gave us sweet salvation, and
Instruction, good and true--
To love our friends and enemies
And love our Savior, too.

So as we give our Valentines,
Let’s thank our Lord and King;
The reason we have love to give
Is that He gave everything.



By Joanna Fuchs

Remind Me, God

Remind Me, God


When I am feeling lonely and
Perhaps I feel despair,
Let not my ailing heart forget
That You hear every prayer. . .

Remind me that no matter what
I do or fail to do,
There still is hope for as long
As I have Faith in You. . .

Let not my eyes be blinded
By some folly I commit;
But help me to regret my wrong
And make amends for it.

Inspire me to put my fears
Upon a hidden shelf,
And in the future
Try not to feel sorry for myself.

Give me the restful sleep I need
Before another dawn,
And bless me in the morning with
"The Courage To Go On."

Written by:
BJ Morbitzer
©2005

Poem "The Week Before Christmas"

The Week Before Christmas Poem

'Twas the week before Christmas, and all through the town,
Not a sign of Baby Jesus, was anywhere to be found.
The people were all busy with Christmas time chores,
Like decorating, and baking, and shopping in stores.



No one sang, "Away in a manger, no crib for a bed."
Instead, they sang of Santa, dressed up in bright red.
Mama watched Martha Stewart, Papa drank from a tap.
As hour upon hour the presents they'd wrap.



Then what from the TV did they suddenly hear?
An ad, which told of a big sale down at Sears.
So away to the mall they all flew like a flash,
Buying some things on credit, and others with cash!

And, as they made their way home from their trip to the mall,
Did they think about Jesus? Oh, no, not at all.



Their lives were so busy with their Christmas time things,
They had no time to remember Christ Jesus, the King.
There were presents to wrap and cookies to bake.
How could they stop and remember the One who died for their sake?

To pray to the Savior, they had no time to stop.
Because they needed more time to "Shop till they drop!"
On Wal-mart! On K-mart! On Target! On Penney's!
On Hallmark! On Zales! A quick lunch at Denny's!
From the big stores downtown to the stores at the mall,
They would dash away, dash away, and visit them all!

And up on the roof, there arose such a clatter,
As grandpa hung icicle lights, using his brand new step ladder.
He hung lights that would flash. He hung lights that would twirl.
Yet, he never once prayed, to Jesus, the Light of the World.




Christ's eyes--how they twinkle!
Christ's Spirit--how merry!
Christ's love--how enormous!
All of our burdens--He'll carry!


So instead of being busy, overworked, and uptight.
Let's put Christ back in Christmas, and enjoy a good night.

God works in Mysterious ways "POEM"

Isn't it amazing how God works in our lives! On a Saturday night several weeks ago, this pastor was working late, and decided to call his wife before he left for home. It was about 10:00 PM, but his wife didn't answer the phone.

The pastor let the phone ring many times. He thought it was odd that she didn't answer, but decided to wrap up a few things and try again in a few minutes. When he tried again she answered right away. He asked her why she hadn't answered before, and she said that it hadn't rung at their house. They brushed it off as a fluke and went on their merry ways.

The following Monday, the pastor received a call at the
church office, which was the phone that he'd used that Saturday night. The man that he spoke with wanted to know why he'd called on Saturday night.

The pastor couldn't figure out what the man was talking about. Then the man said, "It rang and rang, but I didn't answer." The pastor remembered the mishap and apologized for disturbing him, explaining that he'd intended to call his wife.

The man said, "That's, OK. Let me tell you my story.

You see, I was planning to commit suicide on Saturday
night, but before I did, I prayed, 'God if you're there, and you don't want me to do this, give me a sign now.' At that point my phone started to ring. I looked at the caller ID, and it said, 'Almighty God'. I was afraid to answer!"

The reason why it showed on the man's caller ID that the call came from "Almighty God" is because the church that the pastor attends is called Almighty God Tabernacle!!

I AM A SOLDIER

I AM A SOLDIER
(Written by an evangelist and preached by Bro Mark McGaughey)



I am a soldier in the army of God.
The Lord Jesus Christ is my Commanding Officer.
The Holy Bible is my Code of Conduct.
Faith, prayer and the Word are my weapons of warfare.
I have been taught by the Holy Ghost, trained by experience,
tried by adversity and tested by fire.
I am a volunteer in this army and am enlisted for eternity.
I will either retire in this army at the rapture or die in this army,
but I will not get out, sell out, be talked out or pushed out.
I am faithful, reliable, capable and dependable.
If my God needs me I am there.
If he needs me in Sunday school to teach children, work with youth,
help adults or just sit and learn, he can use me because I am there.
If he needs me in Church Sunday morning, Sunday night,
Wednesday night, revival or special services I am there.
I am there to preach, teach, sing, play, pray, work or worship.
God can use me because I am there.
I am a soldier; I am not a baby.
I do not need to be pampered, petted, primed up, pumped up,
picked up or pepped up.
I am a soldier.
No one has to call me, remind me, write me, entice me, or lure me.
I am a soldier.
I am a soldier; I am not a wimp.
I am in place saluting my King, obeying His orders, praising His Name.
No one has to send me flowers, gifts, food, cards, candy
or give me handouts.
I do not need to be cuddled, cradled, cared for or catered to.
I am committed; I cannot have my feelings hurt bad enough
to turn me aside.
I cannot lose enough to cause me to quit.
When Jesus called me into this army, I had nothing.
If I end up with nothing I will still break even.
I will win. My God will supply all my needs.
I am more than a conqueror.
I will always triumph for I can do all things through Christ.
Devils cannot defeat me; people cannot disillusion me
Weather cannot weary me; sickness cannot bind me.
Governments cannot silence me and Hell will not have me.
I am a soldier, even death cannot destroy me for my commander calls me from the battlefield.
He will promote me to Captain
and bring me back to rule this world with him.
I am a soldier in the army, and am marching, claiming victory,
and will not give up or turn around for
I am a soldier marching Heaven bound.
Will you stand with me?

Grandpa's Hand's

Grandpa, some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands.

When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was OK.
Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was OK.
He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," he said in a clear strong voice.
"I didn't mean to disturb you, Grandpa, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I explained to him. "Have you ever looked at your hands," he asked. "I mean really looked at
your hands? I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down.
No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making.

Grandpa smiled and related this story:

"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have how they have served you well throughout your years.
These hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life.



They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor.
They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back.
As a child my Mother taught me to fold them in prayer.
They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent.
They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son.
Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special.
They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when
I buried my Parents and Spouse and walked my Daughter down the aisle.
Yet, they were strong and sure when I dug my buddy out of a foxhole
and lifted a plow off of my best friend's foot.
They have held children, consoled neighbors,
and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand.
They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body.
They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw.
And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well
these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of my life.
But more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and take when he leads me home.




And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ ."


I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached
out and took my Grandpa's hands and led him home.
When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children
and wife, I think of Grandpa. I know he has been stroked and caressed and
held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel
His hands upon my face.

Happy Sunday and Poem

I hope you all had a great Sunday. We had a great service today. We are getting ready for revival starting Thursday to Sunday with Dr.Peter Ruckman from florida.

Here is a poem I like and wanted to share it.



THE MASTER'S CARD


I'm sure you've all received applications for credit cards in the mail.
However, I'm here to advertise a different card.
You see, my life is a product for others to see.
I'm a card carrying representative for
The Master's Card.

That's right,
The MASTER'S CARD.

Let me tell you about it.
There are no finance charges, no payments due.
My bill has already been covered...it's a prepaid deal.
I couldn't afford the price,
so Jesus stepped in and paid it for me.

My Name is written on the card for all to see. It is accessible twenty-four hours a day from anywhere in the world.
The MASTER'S CARD
has so many benefits it's hard to list them all.
Let me share some of them with you...
you might want to apply for a personal card yourself.
Just for starters there is
UNLIMITED GRACE.
That's right, there is no preset limit to the amount of grace you receive from
The MASTER'S CARD.

Have you been looking for love in all the wrong places?
Then, look no farther than
The MASTER'S CARD.

It offers the greatest rate on love that has ever been offered.
The MASTER'S CARD
gives you access to many "members only" benefits.
Want real joy despite the difficulties of life?
Apply for
The MASTER'S CARD.
Want a lasting peace? Apply for
The MASTER'S CARD.
Looking for something you can always rely on in a jam?
The MASTER'S CARD
is perfect for you. Another great thing about
The MASTER'S CARD
is that it never expires and will never be cancelled.
Once you're a member, you're a member for life...
eternal life, that is.
Membership has its privileges, you know.

So why not apply today?

It's only a prayer away.....

The Cracked Pot.

~~ Arthur Unknown ~~

A water bearer in India had two large pots, each hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.
For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do. After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream.

"I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you." "Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?" "I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."

MORAL:
Each of us has our own unique flaws. We're all cracked pots. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are, and look for the good in them. There is a lot of good out there. There is a lot of good in us! Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of shape. Remember to appreciate all the different people in your life! Or as I like to think of it-if it hadn't been for the crackpots in my life, it would have been pretty boring and not so interesting....

great poem " This Time....."

I got this from one of the sites I'm on and wanted to share it.

Inspiration for the professional dieter!!!

This Time..........

Another diet we're about to endure,
but this time we'll do it, of that we are sure.
We've tried all the others without much success,
but this is the one to get into THAT dress!

For years we've tried hard to lose excess weight,
and we now have the answer to looking just great.
For us no more 'chips' or 'Big Mac' on a whim,
we want to look good and we'd love to be slim.

We joined all the clubs where we'd regularly meet,
but when we read all the can't haves we'd go home and 'greet'
They said don't have this and they said don't have that,
so we'd paid all that money just for a chat!

We all have a wardrobe from size 12 up to 20,
and big, baggy jumpers of which there are plenty.
A drawer of small undies is a dream we all know,
so those big ugly knickers really must go!

With time passing quickly and teenage years gone,
we have no more excuses to rely upon,
The one about 'puppy fat' ran out long ago,
so this time it's business, let's give it a go!

Copyright; Angela Convery