There are no hopless cases with JESUS!
Monday, September 19, 2011
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Just As I Am...
Miss Charlotte Elliott, 1789-1871.
Christopher Knapp's Account:
Miss Elliott's father was a godly man at whose house the servants of Christ were often entertained. It was through a visit of one of these, Dr Cesar Malan, of Geneva, that Charlotte was converted and later wrote her celebrated hymn, "Just as I am".
The story is as follows:
One evening, as they sat conversing, the servant of God turned the subject to our personal relation with God, and asked Charlotte if she knew herself to be really a Christian. She was in poor health and often harassed with severe pain, which tended to make her irritable. A severe illness had left her a permanent invalid. She resented the question thus pointedly put, and petulantly answered that religion was a matter she did not wish to discuss. Dr. Malan replied in his usual kind manner, that he would not pursue a subject that displeased her, but would pray that she might give her heart to Christ, and employ in His service the talents with which He had gifted her. It seems that the Holy Spirit used her abrupt and almost rude conduct towards God's servant to show her what depths of pride and alienation from God were in her heart.
After several days of spiritual misery, she apologised for her unbecoming conduct, and confessed that his question had troubled her greatly. "I am miserable" she said, "I want to be saved. I want to come to Jesus; but I don't know how". "Why not come just as you are?", answered Malan. "You have only to come to Him just as you are". Little did Malan think that his simple reply would be repeated in song by the whole Christian world! Further conversation followed, and this good man was enabled to make perfectly clear to the once proud but now penitent young lady God's simple way of salvation through Christ; that on the ground of His shed blood for us, all who from their heart believe are accepted of God. Miss Charlotte came as a sinner to Christ, and remembering this event wrote the hymn that has made her name famous everywhere.
Miss Elliott was possessed of rare literary gifts and when in the year 1836 she assumed the editorship of the "Yearly Remembrancer", she inserted in the first number, this now long-famous hymn — without her name. A commentator says of this hymn, "With its sweet counsel to troubled minds it found its way into magazines and other publications, and in devout persons' scrap books; then into religious circles and chapel assemblies; and finally into the hymnals of the church universal". Some time after its publication, a lady, struck by its beauty and spiritual value, had it printed in leaflet form for circulation in cities and towns of the kingdom.
Miss Elliott, in feeble health, was then in Torquay in Devonshire, under the care of an eminent physician. One day the doctor, who was an earnest Christian man, put one of these leaflets into his patient's hands, saying that it had been helpful to him and felt sure she would like it. The surprise and pleasure was mutual when she recognised her own hymn and he discovered that she was the author. We know not which to admire most, the beauty of the composition, or the lovely modesty of its author, who for so many years forbore to divulge its origin.
Her father died in 1833, and ten years later her mother and two sisters. Then the home at Brighton was given up, and Charlotte Elliott went to live with her only surviving sister on the Continent. Later they lived for fourteen years at Torquay. After this they went again to Brighton to live, where our author remained until her home-call, Sept 22nd, 1871, at the advanced age of eighty-two.
Knapp tells the story of Miss Elliott's conversion. Dr. Moule tells the story of the writing of the hymn, which no doubt was based upon the experience of her conversion which she drew upon in her spiritual conflict.
Miss Elliott's hymns in 'Spiritual Songs' are: 282, "'Christian, seek not yet repose", (a new hymn to the Little Flock Hymn Book) and 465 "O Holy Saviour, Friend unseen". Number 282 has rapidly become a favourite hymn in prayer and ministry meetings. Verses 3 & 4 were written by Mrs Hazel Dixon of Stockport.
An indication of her serious bent of mind and her object in writing is expressed in an introduction to one of her books of poems: 'Not for the gay and thoughtless do I weave these plaintive strains".
Source: http://www.stempublishing.com/hymns/biographies/elliott.html
Miss Elliott's father was a godly man at whose house the servants of Christ were often entertained. It was through a visit of one of these, Dr Cesar Malan, of Geneva, that Charlotte was converted and later wrote her celebrated hymn, "Just as I am".
The story is as follows:
One evening, as they sat conversing, the servant of God turned the subject to our personal relation with God, and asked Charlotte if she knew herself to be really a Christian. She was in poor health and often harassed with severe pain, which tended to make her irritable. A severe illness had left her a permanent invalid. She resented the question thus pointedly put, and petulantly answered that religion was a matter she did not wish to discuss. Dr. Malan replied in his usual kind manner, that he would not pursue a subject that displeased her, but would pray that she might give her heart to Christ, and employ in His service the talents with which He had gifted her. It seems that the Holy Spirit used her abrupt and almost rude conduct towards God's servant to show her what depths of pride and alienation from God were in her heart.
After several days of spiritual misery, she apologised for her unbecoming conduct, and confessed that his question had troubled her greatly. "I am miserable" she said, "I want to be saved. I want to come to Jesus; but I don't know how". "Why not come just as you are?", answered Malan. "You have only to come to Him just as you are". Little did Malan think that his simple reply would be repeated in song by the whole Christian world! Further conversation followed, and this good man was enabled to make perfectly clear to the once proud but now penitent young lady God's simple way of salvation through Christ; that on the ground of His shed blood for us, all who from their heart believe are accepted of God. Miss Charlotte came as a sinner to Christ, and remembering this event wrote the hymn that has made her name famous everywhere.
Miss Elliott was possessed of rare literary gifts and when in the year 1836 she assumed the editorship of the "Yearly Remembrancer", she inserted in the first number, this now long-famous hymn — without her name. A commentator says of this hymn, "With its sweet counsel to troubled minds it found its way into magazines and other publications, and in devout persons' scrap books; then into religious circles and chapel assemblies; and finally into the hymnals of the church universal". Some time after its publication, a lady, struck by its beauty and spiritual value, had it printed in leaflet form for circulation in cities and towns of the kingdom.
Miss Elliott, in feeble health, was then in Torquay in Devonshire, under the care of an eminent physician. One day the doctor, who was an earnest Christian man, put one of these leaflets into his patient's hands, saying that it had been helpful to him and felt sure she would like it. The surprise and pleasure was mutual when she recognised her own hymn and he discovered that she was the author. We know not which to admire most, the beauty of the composition, or the lovely modesty of its author, who for so many years forbore to divulge its origin.
Her father died in 1833, and ten years later her mother and two sisters. Then the home at Brighton was given up, and Charlotte Elliott went to live with her only surviving sister on the Continent. Later they lived for fourteen years at Torquay. After this they went again to Brighton to live, where our author remained until her home-call, Sept 22nd, 1871, at the advanced age of eighty-two.
Knapp tells the story of Miss Elliott's conversion. Dr. Moule tells the story of the writing of the hymn, which no doubt was based upon the experience of her conversion which she drew upon in her spiritual conflict.
Miss Elliott's hymns in 'Spiritual Songs' are: 282, "'Christian, seek not yet repose", (a new hymn to the Little Flock Hymn Book) and 465 "O Holy Saviour, Friend unseen". Number 282 has rapidly become a favourite hymn in prayer and ministry meetings. Verses 3 & 4 were written by Mrs Hazel Dixon of Stockport.
An indication of her serious bent of mind and her object in writing is expressed in an introduction to one of her books of poems: 'Not for the gay and thoughtless do I weave these plaintive strains".
Source: http://www.stempublishing.com/hymns/biographies/elliott.html
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Leaving the City of Regret - Larry Harp
I had not really planned on taking a trip this time of year, and yet I found myself packing rather hurriedly. This trip was going to be unpleasant and I knew in advance that no real good would come of it. I'm talking about my annual "Guilt Trip."
I got tickets to fly there on Wish I Had airlines. It was an extremely short flight. I got my baggage, which I could not check. I chose to carry it myself all the way. It was weighted down with a thousand memories of what might have been. No one greeted me as I entered the terminal to the Regret City International Airport. I say international because people from all over the world come to this dismal town.
As I checked into the Last Resort Hotel, I noticed that they would be hosting the year's most important event, the Annual Pity Party. I wasn't going to miss that great social occasion. Many of the towns leading citizens would be there.
First, there would be the Done family, you know, Should Have, Would Have and Could Have. Then came the I Had family. You probably know ol' Wish and his clan. Of course, the Opportunities would be present, Missed and Lost. The biggest family would be the Yesterday's. There are far too many of them to count, but each one would have a very sad story to share.
Then Shattered Dreams would surely make and appearance. And It's Their Fault would regale us with stories (excuses) about how things had failed in his life, and each story would be loudly applauded by Don't Blame Me and I Couldn't Help It.
Well, to make a long story short, I went to this depressing party knowing that there would be no real benefit in doing so. And, as usual, I became very depressed. But as I thought about all of the stories of failures brought back from the past, it occurred to me that all of this trip and subsequent "pity party" could be cancelled by ME! I started to truly realize that I did not have to be there. I didn't have to be depressed. One thing kept going through my mind, I CAN'T CHANGE YESTERDAY, BUT I DO HAVE THE POWER TO MAKE TODAY A WONDERFUL DAY. I can be happy, joyous, fulfilled, encouraged, as well as encouraging. Knowing this, I left the City of Regret immediately and left no forwarding address. Am I sorry for mistakes I've made in the past? YES! But there is no physical way to undo them.
So, if you're planning a trip back to the City of Regret, please cancel all your reservations now. Instead, take a trip to a place called, Starting Again. I liked it so much that I have now taken up permanent residence there. My neighbors, the I Forgive Myselfs and the New Starts are so very helpful. By the way, you don't have to carry around heavy baggage, because the load is lifted from your shoulders upon arrival. God bless you in finding this great town. If you can find it -- it's in your own heart -- please look me up. I live on I Can Do It street.
I got tickets to fly there on Wish I Had airlines. It was an extremely short flight. I got my baggage, which I could not check. I chose to carry it myself all the way. It was weighted down with a thousand memories of what might have been. No one greeted me as I entered the terminal to the Regret City International Airport. I say international because people from all over the world come to this dismal town.
As I checked into the Last Resort Hotel, I noticed that they would be hosting the year's most important event, the Annual Pity Party. I wasn't going to miss that great social occasion. Many of the towns leading citizens would be there.
First, there would be the Done family, you know, Should Have, Would Have and Could Have. Then came the I Had family. You probably know ol' Wish and his clan. Of course, the Opportunities would be present, Missed and Lost. The biggest family would be the Yesterday's. There are far too many of them to count, but each one would have a very sad story to share.
Then Shattered Dreams would surely make and appearance. And It's Their Fault would regale us with stories (excuses) about how things had failed in his life, and each story would be loudly applauded by Don't Blame Me and I Couldn't Help It.
Well, to make a long story short, I went to this depressing party knowing that there would be no real benefit in doing so. And, as usual, I became very depressed. But as I thought about all of the stories of failures brought back from the past, it occurred to me that all of this trip and subsequent "pity party" could be cancelled by ME! I started to truly realize that I did not have to be there. I didn't have to be depressed. One thing kept going through my mind, I CAN'T CHANGE YESTERDAY, BUT I DO HAVE THE POWER TO MAKE TODAY A WONDERFUL DAY. I can be happy, joyous, fulfilled, encouraged, as well as encouraging. Knowing this, I left the City of Regret immediately and left no forwarding address. Am I sorry for mistakes I've made in the past? YES! But there is no physical way to undo them.
So, if you're planning a trip back to the City of Regret, please cancel all your reservations now. Instead, take a trip to a place called, Starting Again. I liked it so much that I have now taken up permanent residence there. My neighbors, the I Forgive Myselfs and the New Starts are so very helpful. By the way, you don't have to carry around heavy baggage, because the load is lifted from your shoulders upon arrival. God bless you in finding this great town. If you can find it -- it's in your own heart -- please look me up. I live on I Can Do It street.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
John's Newton's Conversion - The story of Amazing Grace
Depth of mercy! can there be
Mercy still reserved for me?
John Newton was born in 1725 in London. His mother who was a godly woman and who taught him to pray as a child, died when he was only seven years old. He had only two years at school and at the age of eleven his father, who was a Sea-Captain, took him to sea for the first time. His sea-faring life is well known....and included being wrecked, becoming the Captain of a Slave-Trade Ship, and also a slave himself to a negress on the Guinea coast. He was rescued by a friend of his father who was a ship's captain as well. Newton lit a fire of driftwood on the shore to attract the attention of any passing ship. In the providence of God, this friend of his father, who was searching for him, sent a long-boat ashore to investigate, and John was rescued. He was on this ship returning across the Atlantic, when it encountered a great storm which was threatening to engulf it.
This took place on the 10th March 1748. `That 10th of March', says Newton, "is a day much to be remembered by me; and I have never allowed it to pass unnoticed since the year 1748. For on that day the Lord came from on high and delivered me out of deep waters."
The storm was terrific: when the ship went plunging down into the trough of the sea few on board expected her to come up again. The hold was rapidly filling with water. As Newton hurried to his place at the pumps he said to the captain, "If this will not do, the Lord have mercy upon us!" His own words startled him. "Mercy!" he said to himself in astonishment, "Mercy! mercy! What mercy can there be for me? This was the first desire I had breathed for mercy for many years!" About six in the evening the hold was free from water, and then came a gleam of hope. "I thought I saw the hand of God displayed in our favour. I began to pray. I could not utter the prayer of faith. I could not draw near to a reconciled God and call him Father. My prayer for mercy was like the cry of the ravens, which yet the Lord does not disdain to hear."
"In the gospel," says Newton, "I saw at least a peradventure of hope but on every other side I was surrounded with black, unfathomable despair." On the peradventure of hope Newton staked everything. He sought mercy - and found it.
Amazing grace! How sweet the sound,
That saved a wretch like me.....
When I've been there ten thousand years
Bright shining like the sun,
I've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when I first begun.
This earth shall soon dissolve like snow,
The sun no longer shine
But God who called me here below
Will be forever mine
John Newton's Testimony:
"This is my testimony. This is my confession of faith. This is my hope -
'BY THE GRACE OF GOD I AM WHAT I AM.' It is certain that I am not what I ought to be. But, blessed be God, I am not what I once was. God has mercifully brought me up out of the deep miry clay and set my feet upon the Rock, Christ Jesus. He has saved my soul. And now it is my heart's desire to extol and honour his matchless, free, sovereign and distinguishing grace, because 'By the grace of God I am what I am.' It is my heart's great joy to ascribe my salvation entirely to the grace of God. 1 Cor.15:10
Thus The Man Behind Amazing Grace: John Newton, Who Was Once an Atheist and Slave Trader, Became a Christian Minister and Abolitionist. His Testimony of That Transformation Is Now a World-Famous Hymn
Source: http://grace-gospel.org/newton.htm;
Friday, March 4, 2011
Ben Hooper - The Governor of Tennessee
A seminary professor was vacationing with his wife in Gatlinburg , TN. right about the time World War I was over. One morning, they were eating their breakfast at a little restaurant, hoping to enjoy a quiet, family meal. While they were waiting for their food, they noticed a distinguished looking, white-haired man moving from table to table, visiting with the guests. The professor leaned over and whispered to his wife, 'I hope he doesn't come over here.'
But sure enough, the man did come over to their table.'Where are you folks from?' he asked in a friendly voice.' Oklahoma,' they answered.'Great to have you here in Tennessee ,' the stranger said.'What do you do for a living?' 'I teach at a seminary,'he replied.'Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I've got a really great story for you.' And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with the couple.The professor groaned and thought to himself, 'Great .. Just what I need ...another preacher story!
'The man started, 'See that mountain over there? (pointing out the restaurant window). Not far from the base of that mountain, there was a boy born to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he went, he was always asked the same question, 'Hey boy, Who's your daddy?' Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask the same question, 'Who's your daddy?'He would hide at recess and lunch time from other students. He would avoid going in to stores because that question hurt him so bad.
'When he was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. He would always go in late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, 'Who's your daddy?' But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast that he got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. Just about the time he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing anything about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, 'Son, who's your daddy?'The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the church looking at him. Now everyone would finally know the answer to the question, 'Who's your daddy?''This new preacher, though, sensed the situation around him and using discernment that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following to that scared little boy... 'Wait a minute! I know who you are! I see the family resemblance now, You are a child of God.' With that he patted the boy on his shoulder and said, 'Boy, you've got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.''With that, the boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked out the door a changed person..
He was never the same again. Whenever anybody asked him, 'Who's your Daddy?' he'd just tell them , 'I'm a Child of God..''The distinguished gentleman got up from the table and said, 'Isn't that a great story?' The professor responded that it really was a great story! As the man turned to leave, he said, 'You know, if that new preacher hadn't told me that I was one of God's children, I probably never would have amounted to anything!' And he walked away.
The seminary professor and his wife were stunned. He called the waitress over & asked her, 'Do you know who that man was -- the one who just left that was sitting at our table?' The waitress grinned and said, 'Of course. Everybody here knows him. That's Ben Hooper. He's the governor of Tennessee ...
'Someone in your life today needs a reminder that they're one of God's children.
'The grass withers and the flowers fall,but the word of God stands forever.' ~~Isaiah
True story....
But sure enough, the man did come over to their table.'Where are you folks from?' he asked in a friendly voice.' Oklahoma,' they answered.'Great to have you here in Tennessee ,' the stranger said.'What do you do for a living?' 'I teach at a seminary,'he replied.'Oh, so you teach preachers how to preach, do you? Well, I've got a really great story for you.' And with that, the gentleman pulled up a chair and sat down at the table with the couple.The professor groaned and thought to himself, 'Great .. Just what I need ...another preacher story!
'The man started, 'See that mountain over there? (pointing out the restaurant window). Not far from the base of that mountain, there was a boy born to an unwed mother. He had a hard time growing up, because every place he went, he was always asked the same question, 'Hey boy, Who's your daddy?' Whether he was at school, in the grocery store or drug store, people would ask the same question, 'Who's your daddy?'He would hide at recess and lunch time from other students. He would avoid going in to stores because that question hurt him so bad.
'When he was about 12 years old, a new preacher came to his church. He would always go in late and slip out early to avoid hearing the question, 'Who's your daddy?' But one day, the new preacher said the benediction so fast that he got caught and had to walk out with the crowd. Just about the time he got to the back door, the new preacher, not knowing anything about him, put his hand on his shoulder and asked him, 'Son, who's your daddy?'The whole church got deathly quiet. He could feel every eye in the church looking at him. Now everyone would finally know the answer to the question, 'Who's your daddy?''This new preacher, though, sensed the situation around him and using discernment that only the Holy Spirit could give, said the following to that scared little boy... 'Wait a minute! I know who you are! I see the family resemblance now, You are a child of God.' With that he patted the boy on his shoulder and said, 'Boy, you've got a great inheritance. Go and claim it.''With that, the boy smiled for the first time in a long time and walked out the door a changed person..
He was never the same again. Whenever anybody asked him, 'Who's your Daddy?' he'd just tell them , 'I'm a Child of God..''The distinguished gentleman got up from the table and said, 'Isn't that a great story?' The professor responded that it really was a great story! As the man turned to leave, he said, 'You know, if that new preacher hadn't told me that I was one of God's children, I probably never would have amounted to anything!' And he walked away.
The seminary professor and his wife were stunned. He called the waitress over & asked her, 'Do you know who that man was -- the one who just left that was sitting at our table?' The waitress grinned and said, 'Of course. Everybody here knows him. That's Ben Hooper. He's the governor of Tennessee ...
'Someone in your life today needs a reminder that they're one of God's children.
'The grass withers and the flowers fall,but the word of God stands forever.' ~~Isaiah
True story....
Wednesday, March 2, 2011
Dr Carl Stevens Testimony - Greater Grace World Outreach...
God called Pastor Carl H. Stevens to preach over four decades ago. At the age of 23, he became a believer in Christ after hearing the witness of his wife. From that moment on, Pastor Stevens dedicated himself to learning about Jesus and to the study and the ministry of the Bible. A farm boy born in West Sumner, Maine, in 1929, and raised by his widowed mother from the age of 3, Pastor Stevens approached Bible study and Christianity the way he approached everything in life - with intensity and concentration. His dedication to this life with God helped establish thriving churches in Maine, Massachusetts, and Maryland. Pastor Stevens communicated the vision that the ministry would be dedicated to seeking the lost in all parts of the world. Toward that end, he led in the establishment of Bible colleges, where academic and practical training in the Word and the ministry would be fostered.
Northeast School of the Bible was founded in Maine in 1972. Its first graduating class, in 1975, included Thomas Schaller, now the Presiding Elder and Pastor of Greater Grace World Outreach.  With the growth of the Bible college, there came a need for more space. That space was found in Lenox, Mass., where The Bible Speaks World Outreach relocated in 1976. | |
| There, Stevens School of the Bible was founded and what followed was a period of great activity. The students of the college proved instrumental in establishing New England’s largest bus ministry and Sunday School. Also, waves of teams headed out to various countries. | |
| In 1987, the ministry moved to Maryland and became Greater Grace World Outreach. The diverse urban center located between Washington, D.C., and Philadelphia proved a fruitful ground for more growth. Maryland Bible College and Seminary was founded and continued the training of pastors, missionaries, and servants to go into all the world. | |
In 2005, the elders of GGWO unanimously elected Pastor Schaller as the ministry’s Presiding Elder and Pastor. Radio has been a staple of the GGWO ministry since the 1960s, when Pastor Stevens began making guest appearances on the Telephone Time program in New England. He later became Telephone Time’s full-time host and continued in the capacity on the Grace Hour until 2004. Pastor Stevens went home to Heaven in June 2008. His legacy continues to affect people everywhere, however, through the recordings of his messages and publications that continue to be produced from those sermons and classes. | |
Monday, February 21, 2011
Who's Praying?
Jim Cymbala's (of the Brooklyn Tabernacle) daughter had been running from God for a long time. Chrissy had rebelled against her family, had left home, and was living as far from God as she could.
But one night, this teenager awoke with the distinct feeling that someone was praying for her. And someone was.
The entire congregation of the church her father pastored was talking to God about her. During their weekly prayer meeting, a member suggested they should all pray for Chrissy.
Two days later, she came home. The first question she had for her startled father was this: "Who was praying for me?" She begged forgiveness and recommitted her life to Christ. In the apostle Paul's second letter to Timothy, he told the young first-century pastor that he was praying for him night and day (2Ti 1:3). Timothy was facing some big challenges, so it must have been encouraging to know that Paul was praying specifically for him.
Are there some people we know who are in bondage to sin as Chrissy was, or who are facing a challenge as Timothy was? Are we willing to spend some concentrated time praying for them? Are we confident that God will answer?
To influence others for God, intercede with God for others.
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
My Friend went home to be with JESUS
On 19th October 2010, my friend Mary Anne, went home to be with JESUS after a year long battle against Cancer.
We became friends when I was 10 & she was in her late 30s. She was a single lady who lived in the same area. She loved me. When I came home from school she called out to me and gaves me boxes of dry fruits or sweets or Tang. One day she bought the entire raffle booklet from me. She loved me.
Then a few years later things happened and my mom & she & we never spoke again. It was an ugly fight, by all means, was blown out of proportion. In 1998.
Since then we never spoke. People made fun of her because she was single. They ridiculed her lonely life in the closed apartment. The fact that she lived alone, ate alone, and lived alone. Day after day for over a decade I watched a life from a distance.
In March this year, I bumped into her and smiled. She immediately walked towards and spoke to me like as if we always spoke, like as if nothing was a problem. Through this conversation I found out that she became a believer shortly after the fall out. And that she had been praying for our family to get to know Jesus for the last 10 years. She was enthralled to know that I had come to faith 3 years ago. We exchanged numbers. She told me that she was terminally ill.
For the rest of her life, we never lost touch. I went to her house often. We talked about the LORD, the BIBLE & she poured out so much joy & faith & love into my broken heart.
17th Aug 2010, My birthday she came home early in the morning with 2 bars of cakes for my colleagues at work, lotions because she knew how much I love them & pink nail paint because she knew how i loved pink!!!
2nd Oct 2010, Her birthday, her family decided to throw her a party. We colored her nails to match her outfit, we got her new slippers. She looked gorgeous! Everyone who she loved made it to her party...It was a lavish spread of cakes, snacks, specials, etc...We worshipped the LORD & prayed together.
Then late that night she was rushed to the hospital. She was serious & under observation. Her condition just worsened overnight. With each passing day she was deteriorating more and more.
I often wondered what was GOD going to do through it all. Was HE going to come through and simply heal her sickness & take away her pain? Was HE going to use her sickness to glorify HIMSELF? How long was she going to suffer this?
And then on the 19th of Oct, after 17 days of of the dreadful hospitalization, at 10:30 pm My friend Mary Anne went home to be with JESUS forever and ever and ever and ever...
We became friends when I was 10 & she was in her late 30s. She was a single lady who lived in the same area. She loved me. When I came home from school she called out to me and gaves me boxes of dry fruits or sweets or Tang. One day she bought the entire raffle booklet from me. She loved me.
Then a few years later things happened and my mom & she & we never spoke again. It was an ugly fight, by all means, was blown out of proportion. In 1998.
Since then we never spoke. People made fun of her because she was single. They ridiculed her lonely life in the closed apartment. The fact that she lived alone, ate alone, and lived alone. Day after day for over a decade I watched a life from a distance.
In March this year, I bumped into her and smiled. She immediately walked towards and spoke to me like as if we always spoke, like as if nothing was a problem. Through this conversation I found out that she became a believer shortly after the fall out. And that she had been praying for our family to get to know Jesus for the last 10 years. She was enthralled to know that I had come to faith 3 years ago. We exchanged numbers. She told me that she was terminally ill.
For the rest of her life, we never lost touch. I went to her house often. We talked about the LORD, the BIBLE & she poured out so much joy & faith & love into my broken heart.
17th Aug 2010, My birthday she came home early in the morning with 2 bars of cakes for my colleagues at work, lotions because she knew how much I love them & pink nail paint because she knew how i loved pink!!!
2nd Oct 2010, Her birthday, her family decided to throw her a party. We colored her nails to match her outfit, we got her new slippers. She looked gorgeous! Everyone who she loved made it to her party...It was a lavish spread of cakes, snacks, specials, etc...We worshipped the LORD & prayed together.
Then late that night she was rushed to the hospital. She was serious & under observation. Her condition just worsened overnight. With each passing day she was deteriorating more and more.
I often wondered what was GOD going to do through it all. Was HE going to come through and simply heal her sickness & take away her pain? Was HE going to use her sickness to glorify HIMSELF? How long was she going to suffer this?
And then on the 19th of Oct, after 17 days of of the dreadful hospitalization, at 10:30 pm My friend Mary Anne went home to be with JESUS forever and ever and ever and ever...
As for me...I miss her...And one day in eternity I will meet her again...
The african girl, hot water bottle & doll
A True Story By Helen Roseveare
One night, in Central Africa, I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all that we could do, she died leaving us with a tiny, premature baby and a crying, two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive. We had no incubator. We had no electricity to run an incubator, and no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts.
A student-midwife went for the box we had for such babies and for the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly, in distress, to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "...and it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk; so, in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over a burst water bottle. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. All right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can; sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm."
The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with many of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chilled. I also told them about the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
A student-midwife went for the box we had for such babies and for the cotton wool that the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly, in distress, to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "...and it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West, it is no good crying over spilled milk; so, in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over a burst water bottle. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. All right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can; sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm."
The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with many of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chilled. I also told them about the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died.
During the prayer time, one ten-year-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt consciousness of our African children. "Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, the baby'll be dead; so, please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of corollary, " ...And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?" As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, "Amen?" I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything: The Bible says so, but there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home. Anyway, if anyone did send a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator!
Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time that I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel! I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone; so, I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.
Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time that I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the veranda, was a large twenty-two pound parcel! I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone; so, I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on the large cardboard box.
From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then, there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children began to look a little bored. Next, came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas - - that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. As I put my hand in again, I felt the...could it really be? I grasped it, and pulled it out. Yes, "A brand-new rubber, hot water bottle!" I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!" Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone: She had never doubted! Looking up at me, she asked, "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?"
That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday School class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. One of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child -- five months earlier in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "That afternoon!"
Helen Roseveare a doctor missionary from England to Zaire, Africa, told this as it had happened to her in Africa. She shared it in her testimony on a Wednesday night at Thomas Road Baptist Church.
That parcel had been on the way for five whole months, packed up by my former Sunday School class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. One of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child -- five months earlier in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "That afternoon!"
Helen Roseveare a doctor missionary from England to Zaire, Africa, told this as it had happened to her in Africa. She shared it in her testimony on a Wednesday night at Thomas Road Baptist Church.
"And it shall come to pass, that before they call, I will answer; and while they are yet speaking, I will hear." (Isaiah 65:24)
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