BEULAH LAND LABRADORS
" WORDS TO LIVE BY "
Dear Lord
So far today, God,
I've done all right.
I haven't gossiped,
I haven't lost my temper,
I haven't been greedy, grumpy,
nasty, selfish, or overindulgent.
I'm really glad about that.
But, in a few minutes, God,
I am going to get out of bed,
and from then on, I'm probably
going to need a lot more help.
Amen.
ONE GOD!!
Look out beyond the world
Tell me what you see!
Look out beyond the planets
Tell me what you see!
Look out beyond the vast Milky Way
Tell me what you see!
Look out beyond the Universe
Tell me what you see!
Look within your flesh
Tell me what you see!
Look within your soul
Tell me what you see!
Look within your heart
Tell me what you see!
Look within your spirit
Tell me what you see!
For out far beyond And also deep within
There is one who is consistent
He is here, he is there
He is everywhere!
Only one!
One freedom!
One love!
One salvation!
One God!
It Takes Guts to Say "Jesus"
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 attempting to prove that God couldn't exist. His
students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable
logic. For twenty years, he had taught this class and no one had ever
had the courage to go against him. Sure, some had argued in class at
times, but no one had ever 'really gone against him' (you'll see what I
mean later). Nobody would go against him because he had a reputation.
At the end of every semester, on the last day, he would say to his
class of 300 students, "If there 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 does
believe 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 could do nothing but stop and
stare. Most of the students were convinced 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 get
enrolled in the class. He was a Christian, and had heard the stories
about this professor. He had to take the class because it was one of
the required classes for his major. And he was afraid. But for 3
months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have the
courage to stand up no matter what the professor said or what the class
thought. Nothing they said or did 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 could
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 pleats 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 up proceeded to walk to the front of the room and share
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.
"Yet to all who received HIM, to those who believed in HIS name, HE
gave the right to become children of God--children born not of natural
descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of GOD."
"But HE knows the way that I take. When HE has tested me, I will
come forth as gold." Job 23:10
A NEW CAR
A young man was getting ready to graduate from college. For many months
he had admired a beautiful sports car in a dealer's showroom, and knowing
his father could well afford it, he told him that was all he wanted.
As Graduation Day approached, the young man awaited signs that his
father had purchased the car. Finally, on the morning of his graduation,
his father called him into his private study. His father told him how
proud he was to have such a fine son, and told him how much he loved him. He handed his son a beautifully wrapped gift box. Curious, but somewhat disappointed, the young man opened the box and found a lovely, leather-bound Bible, with the young man's name embossed in gold. Angry, he raised his voice
to his father and said "with all your money you give me a Bible?" and stormed out of the house, leaving the Bible.
Many years passed and the young man was very successful in business. He had a beautiful home and wonderful family, but realized his father
was very old, and thought perhaps he should go to him. He had not seen him
since that graduation day. Before he could make arrangements, he received a
telegram telling him his father had passed away, and willed all of his
possessions to his son. He needed to come home immediately and take care of things. When he arrived at his father's house, sudden sadness and regret filled his heart. He began to search through his father's important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as he had left it years ago. With tears, he opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. His father had carefully underlined a verse, Matt.7:11, "And if ye, being evil, know how togive good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father which is
in Heaven, give to those who ask Him?"
As he read those words, a car key dropped from the back of the
Bible. It had a tag with the dealer's name, the same dealer who had the sports
car he had desired. On the tag was the date of his graduation, and the words
PAID IN FULL.
A Teacher's Impact
He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's
School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark
Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that
happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional
mischieviousness delightful.
Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that
talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so
much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him
for misbehaving -"Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know
what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to
hearing it many times a day.
One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too
often, and then I made a novice-teacher's mistake. I looked at him and
said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"
It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking
again." I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but
since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on
it.
I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked
to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of
masking tape.
Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two
pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then
returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he
was doing he winked at me. That did it! I started laughing. The class
cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape and shrugged
my shoulders. His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me,
Sister."
At the end of the year I was asked to teach junior-high math. The
years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He
was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen
carefully to my instructions in the "new math," he did not talk as much
in ninth grade as he had in the third.
One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a
new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning,
frustrated with themselves - and edgy with one another. I had to stop
this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the
names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving
a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest
thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down.
It took the remainder of the class period to finish the assignment,
and as the students left the room, each one handed me the papers.
Charlie smiled. Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a
good weekend."
That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate
sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that
individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before
long, the entire class was smiling. "Really?" I heard whispered. "I
never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked
me so much!"
No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if
they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't
matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were
happy with themselves and one another again.
That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I
returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were
driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the
weather, my experiences in general. There was a light lull in the
conversation. Mother gave Dad a side-ways glance and
simply says, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did
before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began.
"Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how
Mark is."
Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said.
"The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could
attend." To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where
Dad told me about Mark.
I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark
looked so handsome, so mature. All I could think at that moment was,
Mark, I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would
talk to me.
The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang
"The Battle Hymn of the Republic." Why did it have to rain on the day
of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor
said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those
who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy
water.
I was the last one to bless the coffin. As I stood there, one of
the soldiers who had acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you
Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the
coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to
Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there,
obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father
said, taking a wallet out of his pocket. "They found this on Mark when
he was killed. We thought you might recognize it."
Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of
notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many
times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I
had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about
him. "Thank you so much for doing that" Mark's mother said. "As you
can see, Mark treasured it."
Mark's classmates started to gather around us. Charlie smiled
rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top
drawer of my desk at home." Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put
this in our wedding album." "I have mine too," Marilyn said. "It's in
my diary." Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook,
took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled
list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said
without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists."
That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for
all his friends who would never see him again.
THE END
written by: Sister Helen P. Mrosia
The purpose of this letter, is to encourage everyone to compliment the
people you love and care about. We often tend to forget the importance
of showing our affections and love. Sometimes the smallest of things,
could mean the most to another. I am asking you, to please send this
letter around and spread the message and encouragement, to express your
love and caring by complimenting and being open with communication. The
density of people in society, is so thick, that we forget that life will
end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be. So please, I
beg of you, to tell the people you love and care for, that they are
special and important. Tell them, before it is too late.
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