There was an officer in the Navy who had always dreamed of commanding a battleship. He finally achieved that dream and was given commission of the newest and proudest ship in the fleet. One stormy night, as the ship ploughed through the seas, the Captain was on duty on the […]
The other day, a member of the pastoral relations committee in a certain church read a letter purporting to come from an applicant:
“I have many qualifications. I’ve been a preacher with much success, and also had some success as a writer. Some say I’m a good organizer. I’ve been a leader most places I’ve been.
“I am over 50 years of age. I have never preached in one place more than three years. In some places I have left town after my work has caused riots and disturbances.
“I must admit I have been in jail three or four times, but not because of any real wrong doing.
“My health is not too good, though I still get a great deal done.
A Preachers qualification Read More »
I remember reading an incident in the life of Albert Schweitzer. A few years before his death, he was in the U.S on his birthday with a few friends, at a private party at a restaurant. After supper, the waitress brought him the cake, and after he blew out the
‘n Groep gegradueerdes, reeds goed gevestig in hulle beroepe, praat met mekaar by ‘n reunie wat hulle bywoon toe hulle besluit om by hulle ou universiteits professor, nou reeds afgetree, te gaan kuier.
Gedurende die kuiertjie draai die gesprek na klagtes oor stres in hulle lewens en werksopset.
Die professor bied aan om vir hulle warm sjokolade te gaan maak en verdwyn in die kombuis, net om ‘n rukkie later tevoorskyn te kom met ‘n pot vol warm sjokolade saam met ‘n variasie koppies en bekers bestaande uit porselein, plastiek, keramiek, glas, sommige duur, ander goedkoop en wat hy aan hulle bedien. Nadat almal iets te drinke het, maak die professor die volgende opmerking;
The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents’ bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.
As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty. Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled. I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a pirate’s treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window.
When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank. Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck. Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. “Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son. You’re going to do better than me. This old mill town’s not going to hold you back.” Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly.
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, mumbling, 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.
Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her. (Hosea 2:14)
An ancient Arabian fable tells of three merchants who crossed the desert. In the daytime, they would pitch tents for shelter from the desert sun. When the stars came out, they would ride their camels in the cool of the night. At one point, the merchants crossed a dry riverbed under the stars.
“Halt!” said a voice from the darkness. All three men jumped down from their camels and huddled in fear.
“Who’s there?” one of them said. “Don’t be afraid,” said the voice in the dark. “I won’t harm you if you do as I say. See those pebbles at your feet?”
Matt.9:13 “Ek het nie gekom om mense te roep wat op die regte pad is nie, maar die sondaars.”
Elke jaar gaan kersfees gepaard met baie besluite. Waar gaan ons wees, wat gaan ons eet en wie gaan wat kry? Met Jingle Bells in jou ore breek die frustrasie van nog ‘n jaar se kersfeesinkopies aan. Jy en jou vrou is al klaar kwaad vir mekaar nog voor die eerste geskenk gekoop is.
As jy soos ek sukkel met geskenke, lees hierdie verhaal en gee dit vir iemand weg voor dit te laat is!
Waarheen is jou skip van drome oppad?
Sy het bekend gestaan as die skip van drome. Sy was agt honderd en negentig voet lank. Veertien duisend mense het aan haar gebou. Die anker het vyftien en half ton geweeg en is deur twintig perde van die fabriek af tot by die skip getrek.
Kersfees-reddingsverhaal Read More »
Years ago, Walter took his friend Arthur to see some land in open country where cattle were idly grazing. Walter explained about his dream for developing this area. He told his friend that in time the area would be surrounded by many restaurants, hotels and convention centers. He told Arthur that his plan would take all of his money and he needed others to develop the surrounding area. He wanted his friend to have the first opportunity to buy into this project.
But Arthur thought to himself, “Who in the world is going to drive twenty-five miles for this crazy project?”
Missed Opportunity Read More »
While on patrol with my partner, Henry, we received a call from another officer, Tony Penna. “I’ve got four guys getting off the train at South Seattle. They’re drunk and I need back-up.”
Henry punched the accelerator and we made it in record time, braking to a stop between the trespassers and Tony. “These guys giving you problems?” Henry asked, as we jumped out of the car. “That guy over there has a temper and started a fight with these three. But they don’t want to do anything about it so I’m kicking them loose after I get information.”
I shined my flashlight on the troublemaker and immediately recognized the pastor’s son, Daniel. His eyes were no longer swollen and his cuts had healed, but he still wore the same bloodied shirt. I poked my finger into his chest. “Daniel Rayner, what do you think you’re doing?”
