A must read story called the room.

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I Have Liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match.

A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I Have Betrayed.”

The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I Have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed At.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve Yelled at My Brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.

I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I Have Listened To,” I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.

An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.

But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus.

I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?

Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.

“No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

By Joshua Harris. Orginally published in New Attitude Magazine. Copyright New Attitude, 1995. You have permission to reprint this in any form. We only ask that you include the appropriate copyright byline and do not alter the content.

Love in a mirror.

Now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.—1 Corinthians 13:12

The city of Corinth was known for the mirrors it made. They were distributed throughout the Roman Empire and beyond. They weren’t the same as mirrors we have today—made of glass with a silver backing. Corinthian mirrors were highly polished metal. Even the best were blurry. You could see yourself, but it was like looking into a car’s shiny hubcap or bumper. And the cheaper models gave a hazy reflection at best.

That’s a picture, says the apostle Paul, of our current level of knowledge and understanding. We can see the broad outline of things. But there’s a lot we don’t see; there are many things we don’t understand. What we know about God, about ourselves, and our world is limited. Our knowledge is incomplete. So anyone who takes pride in having great knowledge is a fool.

In the era of unclear mirrors other people knew better than you did how you actually looked. They could see you face to face. But God’s Word promises that one day we shall see things as they really are. Even better, we will see God. Clearly. Face to face. It won’t be like looking into a hubcap or through a haze. Meeting God will take our breath away—and our pride.

Until then, wise and helpful people major in love. Because love lasts forever.

Prayer:

One glorious day, Father, we will see you face to face. We will be filled with a wonder that is everlasting. We long for that day. Amen.

The Auction. A must read story

The upstate NY man was rich in almost every way. His estate was worth millions. He owned houses, land, antiques and cattle. But though on the outside he had it all, he was very unhappy on the inside. His wife was growing old, and the couple was childless. He had always wanted a little boy to carry on the family legacy.

Miraculously, his wife became pregnant in her later years, and she gave birth to a little boy. The boy was severely handicapped, but the man loved him with his whole heart. When the boy was five, his mom died. The dad drew closer to his special son. At age 13, the boys’s birth defects cost him his life and the father died soon after from a broken heart.

The estate was auctioned before hundreds of bidders. The first item offered was a painting of the the boy. No one bid. They waited like vultures for the riches. Finally, the poor housemaid, who helped raise the boy, offered $5 for the picture and easily took the bid. To every-one’s shock, the auctioneer ripped a hand written will from the back of the picture. This is what it said: “To the person who thinks enough of my son to buy this painting, to this person I give my entire estate.”

The auction was over. The greedy crowd walked away in shock and dismay.

How many of us have sought after what we thought were true riches only to find out later that our Father was prepared to give us His entire estate if we had only sought after His Son alone?

Just for today

Just for Today …
.. smile at a stranger
.. listen to someone’s heart
.. drop a coin where a child can find it
.. learn something new, then teach it to someone
.. tell someone you’re thinking of them
.. hug a loved one
.. don’t hold a grudge
.. don’t be afraid to say “I’m sorry”
.. look a child in the eye and tell them how great they are
.. don’t kill that spider in your house, he’s just lost so show him the way out
.. look beyond the face of a person into their heart
.. make a promise, and keep it
.. call someone, for no other reason than to just say “Hi”
.. show kindness to an animal
.. stand up for what you believe in
.. smell the rain, feel the breeze, listen to the wind
.. use all your senses to their fullest
.. cherish all your TODAYS

Ten Rules For Happier Living

1.  Give something away- no strings attached.
2.  Do a kindness- and forget it.
3.  Spend a few minutes with the aged- their experience is priceless guidance.
4.  Look intently into the face of a baby- and marvel.
5.  Laugh often- it’s life’s lubricant.
6.  Give thanks- a thousand times a day is not enough.
7.  Pray- or you will lose the way.
8.  Plan as though you’ll live forever- because you will.
10.  Live as though you’ll die tomorrow- because you will, on some tomorrow.

The forgotten Diamond…PLEASE READ IT.

A rose-cut synthetic diamond created by Apollo Diamond using a patented chemical vapour deposition process. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

This story I found on the internet is a strong reminder of how easy it is to let our relationship with the Lord go stale if we take it for granted. This is a must read.

Ashley turned the beautiful stone over and over again in her hand. “Are you really giving this to me?” she whispered in awe and wonder. The thought that her father was giving her this priceless diamond seemed almost too much to comprehend.

“Yes, my darling daughter, I am giving you that diamond. Love and cherish it, and keep it ever in your thoughts.”

Ashley threw her arms around her father’s neck. How she loved him! She couldn’t imagine life without his love.

For the first several months after Ashley’s father gave her the diamond, she guarded the diamond as she would her own life. She spent hours gazing upon it, then went and told everyone she knew about her father’s marvelous love. Her heart of gratitude showed in everything she did. She was kind and loving toward others because her thoughts were focused on her father’s kindness to her. She was always eager to serve and praise her father because her thoughts were completely consumed with him.

I’d like to stop here and say that Ashley faithfully treasured her diamond for the rest of her life and continually lived in the same joy she had those firs few weeks. But I’m afraid that would not be true. Ever so gradually, Ashley began to become accustomed to the diamond she’d been given. Although the diamond itself never diminished in value one bit, she stopped thinking of it as much throughout her day. While she was still kind toward others and told others of her father’s love, she did so more from habit and duty than from gratitude and joy. Her words sounded like hollow recitations instead of heartfelt realities.

“Ashley, can I talk with you?” Ashley’s friend Eliza asked one afternoon.

“Of course,” Ashley replied, wondering what Eliza could want.

“The diamond your father gave you—can you describe it to me? And can you tell me what that diamond means to you?”

“Why, of course I can,” Ashley replied. She stumbled through a description that sounded strangely vague even to her.

Ashley’s encounter with Eliza awakened Ashley’s sleeping conscience. I have forgotten to gaze upon the diamond my father gave me! I’ve forgotten to let it bring me joy. Saddened at her folly, Ashley slowly walked upstairs and knocked on her father’s study. One look at her father’s face showed Ashley that he already knew how she had neglected his treasure.

“Come, my dear, let’s go look at the diamond again together,” he said as he gently wiped her tears.

With that, Ashley’s father led her to the special case in which she kept her diamond. Ashley broke into a fresh set of tears when she saw the diamond. She had forgotten how beautifully it glittered and glistened! Her heart felt overwhelmed once again by the incredible gift that her father had given her.

“Oh, Father, please help me to never forget!” she whispered, looking up in love and admiration into her father’s face.

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.” Matthew 13:44