GOD IS REAL

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

GOD IS REAL

 

This is a true story of something that happened just a few years ago at USC. There was a professor of philosophy there who was a deeply committed atheist. His primary goal for one required class was to spend the entire semester to prove that God couldn't exist. His students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable logic. Sure, some had argued in class at times, but no one had ever really gone against him because of his reputation.

At the end of every semester on the last day, he would say to his class of 300 students, "If there is anyone here who still believes in Jesus, stand up!"

In twenty years, no one had ever stood up. They knew what he was going to do next. He would say, "Because anyone who believes in God is a fool. If God existed, he could stop this piece of chalk from hitting the ground and breaking. Such a simple task to prove that He is God, and yet He can't do it."

And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile floor of the classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces.

All of the students would do nothing but stop and stare.

Most of the students thought that God couldn't exist. Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through, but for 20 years, they had been too afraid to stand up.

Well, a few years ago there was a freshman who happened to enroll. He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about his professor. He was required to take the class for his major, and he was afraid. But for three months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have the courage to stand up, no matter whatthe professor said, or what the class thought.

Nothing they said could ever shatter his faith...he hoped.

Finally, the day came. The professor said, "If there is anyone here who still believes in God, stand up!" The professor and the class of 300 people looked at him, shocked, as he stood up at the back of the classroom.

The professor shouted, "You FOOL!!! If God existed, he would keep this piece of chalk from breaking when it hit the ground!" He proceeded to drop the chalk, but as he did, it slipped out of his fingers, off his shirt cuff, onto the pleat of his pants, down his leg, and off his shoe. As it hit the ground, it simply rolled away unbroken. The professor's jaw dropped as he stared at the chalk. He looked up at the young man, and then ran out of the lecture hall.

The young man who had stood, proceeded to walk to the front of the room, and shared his faith in Jesus for the next half hour. 300 students stayed and listened as he told of God's love for them, and of His power, through Jesus.

ANGELS ON EARTH

 

 

 

 

 

 

ANGELS ON EARTH

 

I was driving home from a meeting this evening about 5, stuck in traffic on Colorado Blvd., and the car started to choke and splutter and die - I barely managed to coast, cruising into a gas station, glad only that I would not be blocking traffic and would have a somewhat warm spot to wait for the tow truck. It wouldn't even turn over. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the "quickie mart" building, and it looked like she slipped on some ice and fell into a Gas pump, so I got out to see if she was okay.

When I got there, it looked more like she had been overcome by sobs than that she had fallen; she was a young woman who looked really haggard with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the ancient Suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95.

I asked her if she was okay and if she needed help, and she just kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying," so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. So I asked, "And you were praying?" That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, "He heard you, and He sent me."

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car completely, and while it was fueling, walked to the next door McDonald's and bought 2 big bags of food, some gift certificates for more, and a big cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who attacked it like wolves, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She told me her name, and that she lived in Kansas City. Her boyfriend left 2 months ago and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent Jan 1, and finally in desperation had finally called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with  them and try to get on her feet there.


So she packed up everything she owned in the car She told the kids they were going to California for Christmas, but not that they were going to live there.

I gave her my gloves, a little hug and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, "So, are you like an angel or something?"

This definitely made me cry. I said, "Sweetie, at this time of year angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people."

It was so incredible to be a part of someone else's miracle. And of course, you guessed it, when I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem. I'll put it in the shop tomorrow to check, but I suspect the mechanic won't find anything wrong.

Sometimes the angels fly close enough to you that you can hear the flutter of their wings...

Psalms 55:22 "Cast thy burden upon the Lord, and He shall sustain thee. He shall never suffer the righteous to be moved."

DO YOU SMELL THAT

Do You Smell That?
 
A cold March wind danced around the dead of night in Dallas  as the doctor walked into the small hospital room of  Diana Blessing. She was still groggy from surgery. 

   Her husband, David, held her hand as they braced themselves for the latest news. 

   That afternoon of March 10, 1991, complications had forced  Diana, only 24-weeks pregnant, to undergo an emergency  Cesarean to deliver couple's new daughter, Dana Lu Blessing. 

   At 12 inches long and weighing only one pound nine ounces,  they already knew she was perilously premature. 

   Still, the doctor's soft words dropped like bombs. 

   "I don't think she's going to make it," he said, as kindly as he could. 

   "There's only a 10-percent chance she will live through the  night, and even then, if by some slim chance she does make it, her future could be a very cruel one." 

   Numb with disbelief, David and Diana listened as the doctor described the devastating problems Dana would likely face if she survived. 

   She would never walk, she would never talk, she would probably be blind, and she would certainly be prone to other catastrophic conditions from cerebral palsy to complete mental retardation, and on and on. 

   "No! No!" was all Diana could say. 

   She and David, with their 5-year-old son Dustin, had long dreamed of the day they would have a daughter to become a family of four. Now, within a matter of hours, that dream was slipping away. 
   But as those first days passed, a new agony set in for David and Diana. 
   Because Dana's underdeveloped nervous system was essentially 'raw', the lightest kiss or caress only    intensified her discomfort, so they couldn't even cradle their tiny baby girl against their chests to offer the strength of their love. All they could do, as Dana struggled alone beneath the ultraviolet light in the tangle of tubes and wires, was to pray that God would stay close to their precious little girl. 

   There was never a moment when Dana suddenly grew stronger. 

   But as the weeks went by, she did slowly gain an ounce of weight here and an ounce of strength there. 

   At last, when Dana turned two months old, her parents were able to hold her in their arms for the very first time. And two months later, though doctors continued to gently but grimly warn that her chances of surviving, much less living any kind of normal life, were next to zero, Dana went home from the hospital, just as her mother had predicted. 
   Five years later, when Dana was a petite but feisty young girl with glittering gray eyes and an unquenchable zest for life. She showed no signs whatsoever of any mental or physical impairment. Simply, she was everything a little girl can be and more. But that happy ending is far from the end of her story. 

   One blistering afternoon in the summer of 1996 near her home in Irving, Texas, Dana was sitting in her mother's lap in the bleachers of a local ball park where her brother Dustin's baseball team was practicing. 

   As always, Dana was chattering nonstop with her mother and several other adults sitting nearby when she suddenly fell silent.  Hugging her arms across her chest, little Dana asked,  "Do you smell that?" 

   Smelling the air and detecting the approach of a thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it smells like rain." 

   Dana closed her eyes and again asked, "Do you smell that?" 

   Once again, her mother replied,   "Yes, I think we're about to get wet. It smells like rain." 

   Still caught in the moment, Dana shook her head, patted her thin shoulders with her small hands and loudly announced,    "No, it smells like Him. It smells like God when you lay your head on His chest." 

   Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Dana happily hopped down to play with the other children. 

   Before the rains came, her daughter's words confirmed what Diana and all the members of the extended Blessing family had known, at least in their hearts, all along. 

   During those long days and nights of her first two months of her life, when her nerves were too sensitive for them to touch her, God was holding Dana on His chest and it is His loving scent that sheremembers so well.

DOUBLE ANGELS

                      Double Angels
By David Scott, sixteen
     Waking up to the sound of my alarm, I smiled at the joy of only having to wait one more day.  I got out of bed and threw some clothes on.  Digging around the kitchen for some breakfast, I settled on a bowl of Cheerios and some leftover pizza from the night before.  After watching cartoons, playing some video games and chatting on-line with some friends, it suddenly hit me that I hadn't bought a present for my mom.  It was Christmas Eve, and the stores were going to be closing pretty soon.  So I threw some shoes on, grabbed my skateboard and set off to the mall.
     I swung open the heavy glass door into the mall only to see an incredible sight.  People were running and panicking everywhere, trying to find the perfect gift for their loved ones.  It was total madness.  I decided to begin trying to make my way through the crowds when a guy in a black coat came up to me and told me with desperation in his voice that he had lost his brown leather wallet.  Before I could say a word, he shoved his gray business card into my hand.
     "Please call me at the number on the card if you happen to find it," he said.  I looked at him, shrugged my shoulders and replied, "Yeah, no problem.  I'll do that."
     He turned to stop another person, and I continued to make my way through the unending stream of shoppers to look for a gift for my mom.  I searched everywhere, up and down the mall in every store, with no luck.  Finally, toward the very end of the mall, I spotted a small antique and glass-art store.  It looked like it might have some interesting stuff - not the same as I'd seen in every other store.  I figured I had nothing to lose so I went in.
     Papers and boxes had been thrown everywhere from all the greedy Christmas shoppers digging around for the perfect gifts.  It was pretty bad.  It looked like a dirty bedroom with smelly clothes scattered around in it.  As I tried to make my way through the pile of stuff, I tripped over a box in the aisle and fell flat on my face.  I was so frustrated and worn out from shopping that I stood up, screamed and kicked the box.  It flew through the air and hit a big, high-priced clay statue, almost knocking it over.  My anger had gotten the best of me, but luckily no harm was done.
     As I picked up the box to put it back on the shelf, I noticed a flat, green box hidden under some wrapping paper.  I opened it up to find an amazing glass plate with a Nativity scene on it.  There it was, the perfect gift, just lying in some trash waiting for me to find it.  It felt like one of those moments when you hear angels singing hallelujah and beams of light stream down right over the place where you're standing.  I smiled broadly, gathered it up and headed for the cash register.  As the cashier was ringing up my purchase, I reached into my pocket to get my money.  But my pocket was empty!  I began to scramble around searching every pocket when I realized I had left my wallet at home.  This was my last chance to get my mom a gift since the mall would be closing in ten minutes and it was Christmas Eve.  It would take me twenty minutes to skate home and back.  That's when I started to panic.  Now what do I do? I silently asked myself.
     So I did the only thing I could think of at that moment: I ran outside the store and started to beg people for money.  Some looked at me like I was crazy; others just ignored me.  Finally, giving up, I slumped down on a cold bench feeling totally defeated.  I really had no idea what to do next.  With my head hanging down, I noticed that one of my shoes was untied.  Great, I thought.  All I'd need now is to trip over my shoelace and break my neck.  That'd be the perfect ending to this useless trip.
     I reached down to tie my shoe when I spotted a brown wallet lying next to the front leg of the bench.  I wondered if it could be the wallet that the man in the black coat had lost.  I opened it and read the name on the driver's license inside.  Yep.  It was his.  Then my mouth dropped in awe when I discovered three hundred dollars inside.
     I never even questioned what I should do.  I knew that I had to do the right thing, so I found a nearby pay phone and made a collect call to the number on the gray business card.  The man answered and said that he was still in the mall.  He sounded really happy and relieved.  He asked me if I would meet him at the shoe store, which happened to be right next to the antique and glass store.  When I got there, the man was so excited that he thanked me over and over while he checked to see if his money and credit cards were still there.
     I turned to drag myself out of the mall and back home when I felt the man grab my shoulder.  Turning to face him, I let him know that I hadn't taken anything.  "I can see that," he replied.  "I don't think I've ever met a kid like you who would return all that money when he could have taken it without anybody knowing."  Then he opened up the wallet and handed me four twenty-dollar bills, thanking me again.
     In great excitement, I leaped into the air and shouted, "Yes!"  I thanked him this time and told him I had to hurry and go get my mom a present before the mall closed.  I made it to the store just as they were getting ready to lock up.  The lady was really nice about it and let me in.
     I bought the glass plate and started skating home, grateful that everything had worked out.  I found myself whistling Christmas carols as I replayed the evening over in my head.  Suddenly, it hit me.  I realized that I had been sort of a Christmas angel for the man who had lost his wallet, and that he had been the same for me when I'd forgotten mine.  Double angels! I thought.  It was another one of those moments when choirs of angels begin to sing and beams of light shine down on you.  I knew that I'd never forget this Christmas Eve for as long as I lived.
     The next morning, my mom opened my "miracle present."  The look on her face assured me that she really loved it.  Then I told her all about what happened when I was trying to get her gift.  The story made the plate even more special to her.
     Still, to this day, she keeps that green glass plate on our main shelf as a centerpiece.  It reminds her of me, of course, but it continues to remind me that amazing things can happen when you least expect them.  Especially during that magical time called Christmas.

DOUBTING YOUR DOUBTS

        Doubting your doubts
By Dr. Robert Schuller

"There lives more faith in honest doubt, than in half the creeds," Alfred Lord Tennyson wrote in In Memoriam. I find that some people who have serious questions about the existence of God want desperately to believe. Their probing inquiry reflects thoughtful doubt.

Actually, they are far more responsible and serious in their pursuit of a commitment to God than those who blindly recite cold creeds without really daring to explore the tough questions.

Doubt can be a positive force when we learn to doubt our doubts and have faith in our faith!

It is quite apparent that the believer in God and the Bible has as strong a foundation for a rational system of belief as any doubter has for the philosophy of irreligion he has fabricated.

Faith in God will increase your moral strength, increase your days of joy, reduce your days of despair.

I've never seen a person who has been more respected as a leader in the philosophy and faith of religion than Jesus Christ.

Jesus believed in God. He believed in prayer. He believed in heaven and hell and eternal life. He believed in salvation. He believed in every single human being! He believed in possibility thinking and He believed in faith. If your doubts collide and clash with the viewpoint of Jesus Christ, it is the better part of wisdom to believe the believer and doubt the doubter. Then you are on your way to a great life.

THE SPIRIT OF THE AMERICAN SOLDIER

I am a whisper on the wind,
of times past and places long forgotten:
Valleyforge, Gettysburg, Batan,
Pearl Harbor, Normandy, Seoul,
Saigon, Loas, Kuwait, Iraq.

I am the heart of the countless numbers:
scarred and maimed American Veterans
And the soul of the buried unknowns

I am the integral part of each
white cross in Flanders Fields.

And I am sealed within each name
on the wall. I am part of each and
every headstone of every
American veteran in every cemetery
around the world.

I am deeply enmeshed in every tiny
undiscovered bone fragment of an
American veteran left behind, on foreign soil.

I am the unseen shadow,
the unheard voice in those many
empty cells that once held my
brothers in unspeakable torture.

I am the unbearable pain in the hearts of
every Mother, Father, Wife, Husband,
Brother, .Sister, and Child of the missing
American Veterans from all wars

I am within each and every
teardrop shed by family members for
their unaccounted loved ones.

I am the essence of each and every
drop of blood shed in the past or
the future, by an American Veteran
in the name of freedom.

I am the lifeblood of the colors
of the American Flag:
Blue for my loyalty and dedication
White for my steadfastness
Red for my pride and love of my country.

I am the spirit of each name on
the black granite wall.
..Of all those unaccounted for in every war.

Of those who went away to war,
galant young soldiers and came
back older than time or not at all.

I am:
The Spirit Of The American Soldier

God Bless America
Land of the free
Home of the brave.

Dedicated to the memory of
T/Sgt. Richard M. Cole Jr. MIA 6/18/72
By Beverly Haire© 1998

TO CHANGE YOUR LUCK

TO CHANGE YOUR LUCK

A band of young car thieves thought they'd found the perfect plan.
They set to work stealing cars in a mall parking lot on one of the
busiest days of the year. Unfortunately, their first choice was their
worst choice. They spotted a nice-looking van and began picking the
locks. In no time at all the door opened, and inside they found …
police officers, who were using the vehicle as an undercover
surveillance van!

One might say that they ran into some bad luck. (Or maybe stealing
cars was a bad decision to begin with and luck had nothing to do with
it.)

Many people DO try to manage their luck, however. So they believe in
rituals and talismans to aid in their success. According to Jeanne
Ralston ("What's Luck Go To Do With It?" Ladies Home Journal, Jan.,
1999), athletes, as a group, are often superstitious. Home-run king
Hank Aaron wore the same shower shoes for twenty years because he
thought they brought him luck, and basketball great Michael Jordan
felt more confident with his University of North Carolina basketball
shorts under his Chicago Bulls uniform.

Some of us go for four leaf clovers, a superstition from the Druids of
medieval Europe who believed that the plant imparted to those who
found them special powers to see invisible witches and evil spirits.
Others may carry a rabbit's foot. It was because of the great
bunny-making capabilities of rabbits that ancient Celts believed they
should be associated with luck and prosperity. Still other people
speak of knocking on wood, a custom that seems to have grown from a
belief that the noise may prevent evil spirits from hearing you
mention your good luck.

I understand that basketball player George Underwood once said this
about luck: "I have just two superstitions. One, don't call someone a
bad name if they have a loaded pistol. Two, don't call your girl
friend Tina if her name is Vivian."

Robert Collier instructs that all of us have bad luck and good luck.
But the one who persists through the bad luck - who keeps right on
going - is the one who is there when the good luck comes. This person,
says Collier, is the one who is ready to receive that opportunity when
it is presented.

In other words, luck really does favor the prepared. And those who
persist and work hard. "The more I practice," said golfpro Arnold
Palmer, "the luckier I seem to get."

To change your luck, change your attitude from pessimism to optimism.
Something good really IS around the corner. Then work hard and be
ready. When that next opportunity comes, you'll be the one to seize it
a MAKE something happen. It can be your next lucky break!