PAPPY...........

PAPPY

Pappy was a pleasant-looking old fellow. He had the whitest hair which he
kept neatly cut and combed. His eyes were blue, though faded with age, and
they seemed to emit a warmth from within. His face was quite drawn, but when
he smiled, even his wrinkles seemed to soften and smile with him. He had a
talent for whistling and did so happily each day as he dusted and swept his
pawnshop; even so, he had a secret sadness, but everyone who knew him
respected and adored him.

Most of Pappy's customers returned for their goods, and he did not do much
business, but he did not mind. To him, the shop was not a livelihood as much
as a welcome pastime.

There was a room in the back of his shop where he spent time tinkering with
a menagerie of his own precious items. He referred to this back room as
"memory hall." In it were pocket watches, clocks, and electric trains. There
were miniature steam engines and antique toys made of wood, tin, or cast
iron, and there were various other obsolete trinkets as well.

Spending time in memory hall delighted him as he recalled many treasured
moments from his past. He handled each item with care, and sometimes he
would close his eyes and pause to relive a sweet, simple childhood memory.

One day, Pappy was working to his heart's content reassembling an old
railroad lantern. As he worked, he whistled the melody of a railroad tune
and reminisced about his own past as a switchman. It was a typical day at
the shop. Outside, the sun illuminated the clear sky, and a slight wind
passed through the door. Whenever the weather was this nice, Pappy kept the
inner door open. He enjoyed the fresh air-almost as much as the distinctive
smell of antiques and old engine oil.

As he was polishing his newly restored lantern, he heard the tinkling of his
bell on the shop door. The bell, which produced a uniquely charming
resound, had been in Pappy's family for over a hundred years. He cherished
it dearly and enjoyed sharing its song with all who came to his shop.
Although the bell hung on the inside of the main door, Pappy had strung a
wire to the screen door so that it would ring whether the inner door was
open or not. Prompted by the bell, he left memory hall to greet his
customer.

At first, he did not see her. Her shiny, soft curls barely topped the
counter.

"And how can I help you, little lady?" Pappy's voice was jovial.

"Hello, sir." The little girl spoke almost in a whisper. She was dainty.
Bashful. Innocent. She looked at Pappy with her big brown eyes, then slowly
scanned the room in search of something special. Shyly she told him, "I'd
like to buy a present, sir."

"Well, let's see," Pappy said, "who is this present for?"

"My grandpa. It's for my grandpa. But I don't know what to get."

Pappy began to make suggestions. "How about a pocket watch? It's in good
condition. I fixed it myself," he said proudly.

The little girl didn't answer. She had walked to the doorway and put her
small hand on the door. She wiggled the door gently to ring the bell.
Pappy's face seemed to glow as he saw her smiling with excitement.

"This is just right," the little girl bubbled. "Momma says grandpa loves
music."

Just then, Pappy's expression changed. Fearful of breaking the little girl's
heart, he told her, "I'm sorry, missy. That's not for sale. Maybe your
grandpa would like this little radio."

The little girl looked at the radio, lowered her head, and sadly sighed,
"No, I don't think so."

In an effort to help her understand, Pappy told her the story of how the
bell had been in his family for so many years, and that was why he didn't
want to sell it.

The little girl looked up at him, and with a giant tear in her eye, sweetly
said, "I guess I understand. Thank you, anyway."

Suddenly, Pappy thought of how the rest of the family was all gone now,
except for his estranged daughter whom he had not seen in nearly a decade.

Why not, he thought. Why not pass it on to someone who will share it with a
loved one? God only knows where it will end up anyway.

"Wait...little lady." Pappy spoke just as the little girl was going out the
door--just as he was hearing his bell ring for the last time. "I've decided
to sell the bell. Here's a hanky. Blow your nose."

The little girl began to clap her hands. "Oh, thank you, sir. Grandpa will
be so happy."

"Okay, little lady. Okay." Pappy felt good about helping the child; he knew,
however, he would miss the bell. "You must promise to take good care of the
bell for your grandpa--and for me, too, okay?" He carefully placed the bell
in a brown paper bag.

"Oh, I promise," said the little girl. Then, she suddenly became very still
and quiet. There was something she had forgotten to ask. She looked up at
Pappy with great concern, and again almost in a whisper, asked, "How much
will it cost?"

"Well, let's see. How much have you got to spend?" Pappy asked with a grin.

The child pulled a small coin purse from her pocket then reached up and
emptied two dollars and forty-seven cents onto the counter.

After briefly questioning his own sanity, Pappy said, "Little lady, this is
your lucky day. That bell costs exactly two dollars and forty-seven cents."

Later that evening as Pappy prepared to close up shop, he found himself
thinking about his bell. Already he had decided not to put up another one.
He thought about the child and wondered if her grandpa like his gift. Surely
he would cherish anything from such a precious grandchild.

At that moment, just as he was going to turn off the light in memory hall,
Pappy thought he heard his bell. Again, he questioned his sanity; he turned
toward the door, and there stood the little girl. She was ringing the bell
and smiling sweetly.

Pappy was puzzled as he strolled toward the small child. "What's this,
little lady? Have you changed your mind?"

"No," she grinned. "Momma says it's for you."

Before Pappy had time to say another word, the child's mother stepped into
the doorway, and choking back a tear, she gently said, "Hello, Dad."

The little girl tugged on her grandpa's shirttail. "Here, Grandpa. Here's
your hanky. Blow your nose."

-- Author Unknown

Pinewood Derby [the wisdom of a child ]

PINEWOOD DERBY (The wisdom of a child)

My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub Scouts only a short
time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of
wood and four tires and told to return home and give all to "dad".

That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing
things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at
the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son. The
block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, mom stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project
began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply
read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did. I read aloud
the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn't do.

Within days his block of wood was turning into a pinewood derby car. A
little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of mom).
Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids' cars and was feeling pretty
proud of his "Blue Lightning", the pride that comes with knowing you did
something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue pinewood derby in his hand and pride
in his heart we headed to the big race. Once there my little one's pride
turned to humility. Gilbert's car was obviously the only car made entirely
on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool
paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert's lopsided, wobbly,
unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility, Gilbert was the only boy
without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent
homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by their side, Gilbert had "mom".

As the race began it was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing as
long as you were the winner. One by one the cars raced down the finely
sanded ramp. Finally it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest
looking car there. As the last race was about to begin, my wide eyed, shy
eight year old ask if they could stop the race for a minute, because he
wanted to pray. The race stopped.

Gilbert went to his knees clutching his funny looking block of wood between
his hands. With a wrinkled brow he set to converse with his Father. He
prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on
his face and announced, 'Okay, I am ready."

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car
sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart and
watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed
and rushed over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy's car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud "Thank You" as the crowd roared in
approval. The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with microphone in hand and
asked the obvious question, "So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?"

To which my young son answered, "Oh, no sir. That wouldn't be fair to ask
God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I wouldn't
cry when I lost."

Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us. Gilbert didn't ask God to win
the race, he didn't ask God to fix the outcome. Gilbert asked God to give
him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars he didn't
cry out to God, "No fair, they had a father's help!". No, he went to his
Father for strength. Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God
to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to
remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God's strength to get
through the struggle. "I can do everything through Him who gives me
strength." Philippians 4:13

Gilbert's simple prayer spoke volumes to those present that night. He never
doubted that God would indeed answer his request. He didn't pray to win,
thus hurt someone else, he prayed that God supply the grace to lose with
dignity. Gilbert, by his stopping the race to speak to his Father also
showed the crowd that he wasn't there without a "dad", but His Father was
most definitely there with him. Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that
night, with his Father at his side.

May we all learn to pray this way.

-- Author Unknown

How is healthy is your church..........

A t-Shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes was literally
Bill's wardrobe for his entire four years of college. He was
brilliant. Kind of esoteric and very, very bright. He became a
Christian while attending college. Across the street from the
campus was a well-dressed, very conservative church. They
wanted to develop a ministry to the students but were not
sure how to go about it.

One day Bill decided to go there. He walked in with no
shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair. The service had
already started and so Bill walked down the aisle looking for a
seat. The church was completely packed and he couldn't find
a seat. By now, people were really looking a bit uncomfortable,
but no one said anything. Bill got closer and closer and closer
to the pulpit, and when he realized there were no seats, he
just sat down right on the carpet.

By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in
the air was thick. About that time, the minister realized
that from way at the back of the church, a deacon was slowly
making his way toward Bill. Now the deacon was in his
eighties, had silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly
man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walked with
a cane and, as he started walking toward this boy, everyone
was saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what
he's going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and
of his background to understand some college kid on
the floor?

It took a long time for the man to reach the boy. The
church was utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's
cane. All eyes were focused on him. You couldn't even hear
anyone breathing. The minister couldn't even preach the
sermon until the deacon did what he had to do. And now
they saw this elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With
great difficulty, he lowered himself and sat down next to Bill,
smiles, shakes his hand, and worshiped with him so he
won't be alone.

Everyone choked up with emotion. When the minister
regained control, he said, "What I'm about to preach, you
will never remember. What you have just seen, you will
never forget."

The moral of the story, "Be careful how you live. You may
be the only Bible some people will ever read".

the Cross--a Symbol of Supreme Love.....by Charles Stanley

The Cross: Symbol of Supreme Love
John 10:18

Countless people wear a cross because it symbolizes Christianity. But few fully grasp the depth of love that it represents.

The cross stands for what is arguably history's most painful method of execution. Crucifixion usually began with two soldiers flogging the criminal from the front and back. They used a strap with three leather cords, each containing a piece of embedded bone that tore flesh to ribbons. No wonder Jesus fell and struggled to carry His cross after such treatment.

The soldiers then hammered a long square nail into the hands or wrists; this shape would heighten the already excruciating pain. Another nail was driven through the ankles into the wood. Raising the cross, executioners would then drop it into a hole in the ground, the "thud" further tearing flesh. In order to breathe, the convicted man had to push up on his bloody ankles.

Jesus was God, but He was also fully man. So He experienced the physical agony any human would feel at such brutality. On top of that, He felt emotional and spiritual anguish because the nation rejected Him and His disciples denied Him. Worst of all, when He took our sin upon Himself, the Father turned away (Matt. 27:46; 2 Cor. 5:21). Yet Jesus didn't see Himself as a victim; He willingly offered His blood on our behalf and considered it a joy (Heb. 12:2). No greater love exists.

Take time to consider all that Jesus endured on the cross for your sake. As you begin to grasp the enormity of His sacrifice, thank Him for His boundless love.

***

"On Love"

"Love is the fulfilment of all our works. There is the goal; that is why we run: we run toward it, and once we reach it, in it we shall find rest."
--Augustine of Hippo

"If I put my own good name before the other's highest good, then I know nothing of Calvary love."
--Amy Carmichael

"But it is doubtless true, and evident from these Scriptures, that the essence of all true religion lies in holy love; and that in this divine affection, and an habitual disposition to it, and that light which is the foundation of it, and those things which are the fruits of it, consists the whole of religion."
--Jonathan Edwards

"A wise lover values not so much the gift of the lover as the love of the giver."
--Thomas à Kempis

"When I have learnt to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now."
--C. S. Lewis

"Joy is love exalted; peace is love in repose; long-suffering is love enduring; gentleness is love in society; goodness is love in action; faith is love on the battlefield; meekness is love in school; and temperance is love in training."
--D. L. Moody

"Love is the greatest thing that God can give us for Himself is love: and it is the greatest thing we can give to God."
--Jeremy Taylor

Living in Bondage......by Charles Stanley

Living in Bondage
John 8:31-36

Freedom is one of humanity's most prized possessions. That's why Patrick Henry's famous declaration, "Give me liberty or give me death," resonated with the colonists. His sentiment ignited a revolution and helped bring about the birth of our free nation.

Yet many inhabitants of this land are in captivity. You see, people aren't simply physical beings; they're also spiritual. And they can be enslaved spiritually as well as physically.

Jesus said that anyone who commits sin is in bondage to it (John 8:34). He was referring to continuous wrongs that become a lifestyle, even for the believer. Almost anything--including the pursuit of power, money, or relationships--can develop into a pattern of sinful living.

Usually, ungodly habits begin in a way that seems innocent and fulfills a desire or need. For example, a person might justify working too much in order to take care of his family. Over time, he may become desensitized to any guilt he originally felt. As he gradually senses less conviction by the Holy Spirit, the habit becomes a comfort and eventually controls him. Though he may hate it, he is powerless to stop. Ironically, people in this state often say and believe that they could stop the behavior
if they so chose. But they are deceived.

Neither human determination nor effort can overcome the bondage. Yet what man is unable to do, God can achieve (Luke 18:27).

Take an honest look at your life's motivations. Is there some habit, emotion, or dream that "owns" you? Jesus --and Jesus alone--can set you free.