The inspiration for this website came from a Scripture song I heard over 10 years ago at a ladies retreat:

Like Apples of Gold in pictures of silver
A word fitly spoken shall be,
Like Apples of Gold in pictures of silver
Let my life bring glory to thee.

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.
Proverbs 25:11

Although some of the "stories" listed are made up, the Scriptural truths they illustrate are very real and can be of great benefit in a Christian's walk with the Lord and as illustrations for the lost.

It is my heart's desire that amongst the pages of this website, the Christian find words of encouragement and be spurred on to service for our Lord, and that seekers of the truth find Salvation in the timeless truths of God's Word for these troubled times.

- Angela

Salvation

The Scars Of Love

The Scars Of Love

Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.

His mother in the house was looking out the window saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could. Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him.

From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.

Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal, and on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother’s fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.

The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, “But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn’t let go.”

You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator or anything quite so dramatic, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret.

But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go. In the midst of your struggle, He’s been there holding on to you.

The Scripture teaches that God loves you. If you have Christ in your life, you have become a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations.

The swimming hole of life is filled with peril – and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That’s when the tug-of-war begins – and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very grateful. He did not and will not let you go.

Author Unknown.

John 10:27-30  My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me: And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand. My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand. I and my Father are one.

Important Recall Notice!

Important Recall Notice!

The maker of all human beings is recalling all units regardless of make  or year, due to a serious defect in the primary and central component  of the heart. This is due to a malfunction in the original prototype  units, code named Adam and Eve, resulting in the reproduction of the  same defect in all subsequent units.

This defect has been technically termed, Subsequential Internal  Non-Morality, or more commonly known as S-I-N, as it is primarily  symptomized by loss of moral judgment. Some other symptoms:

(a) Loss of direction
(b) Foul vocal emissions
(c) Amnesia of origin
(d) Lack of peace and joy
(e) Selfish, or violent, behavior
(f) Depression or confusion in the mental component
(g) Fearfulness
(h) Idolatry

The manufacturer, who is neither liable or at fault for this defect, provides factory authorized repair and service, free of charge, to correct this SIN defect.

The number to call for the recall station in your area is: P-R-A-Y-E-R. Once connected, please upload your burden of SIN by pressing R-E-P-E-N-T-A-N-C-E. Next, download J-E-S-U-S into the heart. No matter  how big or small the SIN defect is, the JESUS repair will replace it with:

(a) Love
(b) Joy
(c) Peace
(d) Long-suffering
(e) Gentleness
(f) Goodness
(g) Faith
(h) Meekness
(i) Temperance

Please see operating manual, HOLY BIBLE, for further details on the use of these fixes. WARNING: Continuing to operate the human unit without  correction, voids the manufacturer’s warranty, exposing owner to dangers and problems too numerous to list and will result in the human unit being permanently impounded. For free emergency service, call on J-E-S-U-S.

DANGER: The human units not receiving this recall action will have to be scrapped in the furnace.

Authorized by: The Creator.

The Old Rugged Cross

The Old Rugged Cross

by
George Bennard, 1873-1958

1. On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
the emblem of suffering and shame;
and I love that old cross where the dearest and best
for a world of lost sinners was slain.

Refrain:
So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
till my trophies at last I lay down;
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
and exchange it some day for a crown.

2. O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,
has a wondrous attraction for me;
for the dear Lamb of God left his glory above
to bear it to dark Calvary.
(Refrain)

3. In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,
a wondrous beauty I see,
for ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
to pardon and sanctify me.
(Refrain)

4. To that old rugged cross I will ever be true,
its shame and reproach gladly bear;
then he’ll call me some day to my home far away,
where his glory forever I’ll share.
(Refrain)

The Matchless Pearl

The Matchless Pearl

A heavy splash was followed by many ripples and then the water below the pier was still. David Morse, a missionary, crouched low on the pier, his eyes riveted where a stream of little bubbles rose to the surface from deep under the water. In a moment his old friend Rambhau, an Indian pearl diver, appeared and clambered onto the dock, grinning.

“Look at this one, sahib,” said Rambhau, taking a big oyster from between his teeth. “I think it will be good.”

Morse took it and pried it open with his pocket knife. “Rambhau! Look!” exclaimed Morse, “Why it’s a treasure!”

“Yes, a good one,” shrugged the diver.

“Good! It’s perfect isn’t it? Have you ever seen a better pearl? ” cried Morse, turning the pearl over in his hands.

“Oh, yes, there are better pearls, much better. Why, I have one…” his voice trailed off. “See here–the imperfections–the black speck here, this tiny dent. It’s not even round, but good enough as pearls go.”

“Your eye is too sharp for your good, my friend,” lamented Morse. “I would never ask for a more perfect pearl!”

“It is just as you say about your God,” answered Rambhau. “To themselves people seem without fault, but God sees them as they really are.” The two men started down the dusty road to town.

“You’re right, Rambhau, but God offers a perfect righteousness to all who will simply believe and accept His free offer of salvation through His beloved Son.”

“No, sahib. As I’ve told you so many times, it’s too easy. That is where your religion breaks down. Perhaps I am too proud, but I must work for my place in heaven. Do you see that man over there? He is a pilgrim, perhaps to Bombay or Calcutta. He walks barefooted over the sharpest stones–and see–every few paces he kneels down and kisses the road. That is good. The first day of the new year I shall begin my pilgrimage. All my life I have planned it. I shall make sure of heaven this time. I am going to Delhi on my knees.”

“Rambhau! You’re crazy! It’s nine hundred miles to Delhi! The skin will break on your knees and you will have blood poisoning or leprosy before you ever get there.”

“No, I must go to Delhi. The suffering will be sweet, for it will purchase heaven for me.”

“Rambhau, my friend, you can’t! How can I let you do this when Jesus Christ, by His death and resurrection, has already done all to purchase heaven for you?”

But the old man could not be moved. “You are my dearest friend on earth, sahib Morse. Through many years you have stood beside me. In sickness and want you have been sometimes my only friend. But even you cannot turn me from this great desire to purchase eternal bliss. I must go to Delhi.” It was useless. The old pearl diver could not understand, could not accept the free salvation of Christ.

Later one afternoon Morse answered a knock at his door to find Rambhau there.

“My good friend!” exclaimed Morse. “Come in.”

“No,” said the pearl diver. “I want you to come with me to my house, sahib. I have something to show you.”

The heart of the missionary leaped. Perhaps God was answering his prayers at last. “Of course I’ll come.”

Inside Rambhau’s home, Morse was seated on the chair where many times he had sat explaining to the diver God’s way of salvation, Rambhau left the room to return with a small but heavy strongbox. “I have had this strongbox for years,” he said. “I keep only one thing in it. Now I will tell you about it. Sahib Morse, I once had a son.”

“A son! Rambhau, you never said a word about him!”

“No, sahib, I couldn’t.”

As the diver spoke, his eyes were wet with tears. “Now I must tell you, for soon I will leave, and who knows whether I shall ever return? My son was a diver, too–the best pearl diver on the coasts of India. He had the swiftest dive, the keenest eye, the strongest arm, the longest breath of any man who sought for pearls. What joy he brought to me! He always dreamed of finding a pearl beyond all others. One day he found it, but in his desire to get it, he stayed under too long. He lost his life soon after. All these years I have kept the pearl, but now, my friend, I am giving it to you.”

The old man, shaking with emotion, worked the lock on the strongbox and drew from it a carefully wrapped package. Gently folding back the cloths, he picked up a mammoth pearl and placed it in the hand of the missionary. It was one of the largest pearls ever found off the coast of India, and it glowed with a luster and brilliance Morse had never seen. It would have brought a fabulous sum in any market.

For a moment the missionary was speechless and gazed on the pearl with awe. “Rambhau! what a pearl!”

“That pearl, sahib, is perfect,” he replied quietly.

The missionary looked up quickly with a new thought.

“Rambhau this is a wonderful pearl, an amazing pearl. Let me buy it. I will give you ten thousand dollars for it.”

“Sahib! What do you mean?”

“Well, I will give you fifteen thousand dollars for it, or if it takes more I will work for it.”

“Sahib,” said Rambhau, as his whole body stiffened, “this pearl is beyond all price. No man in all the world has enough money to pay what this pearl is worth to me. I could never sell it. You may only have it as a gift.”

“No, Rambhau, I cannot accept it that way. Perhaps I am too proud, but that is too easy. I must earn it.”

The old pearl diver was stunned. “You don’t understand at all, sahib. Don’t you see? My only son gave his life to get this pearl, and nothing you would do could ever earn it. Its worth is in the life-blood of my son. Just accept it as a token of the love I have for you.”

For a moment the missionary could not speak. Then he gripped the hand of his old friend. “Rambhau,” he said in a low voice, “don’t you see? That is just what God has been saying to you.”

The diver looked long and searchingly at the missionary and slowly he began to understand.

“God is offering salvation to you as a free gift. It is so great and priceless that no man on earth could buy it–millions of dollars are too little. No man can earn it–in a thousand pilgrimages you could not earn it. It cost God the life-blood of His only Son to make the entrance for you into heaven. All you can do is accept it as a token of God’s love for you, a sinner.

“Rambhau, of course I will accept the pearl in deep humility, praying God I may be worthy of your love. But won’t you accept God’s great gift of eternal life, in deep humility knowing it cost Him the death of His only Son to offer it to you?”

Great tears were rolling down the face of the old man. The veil was lifting. He understood at last. “Sahib, I see it now. I could not believe that His salvation was free, but now I understand. Some things are too priceless to be bought or earned. Sahib, I accept His offer of salvation.”

Author Unknown

“God commendeth His love toward us, in that,
while we were yet sinners,
Christ died for us”

(Romans 5:8).

“For God so loved the world,
that He gave His only begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life.”

(John 3:16).

“For by grace are ye saved through faith;
and that not of yourselves:
it is the gift of God: not of works,
lest any man should boast”

(Ephesians 2:8,9).

Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling

Softly and Tenderly Jesus Is Calling

by Will L. Thompson

Softly and tenderly Jesus is calling,
Calling for you and for me;
See, on the portals He’s waiting and watching,
Watching for you and for me.

Chorus
Come home,…come home,..
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Why should we tarry when Jesus is pleading,
Pleading for you and for me?
Why should we linger and heed not His mercies,
mercies for you and for me?

Chorus
Come home,…come home,..
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Time is now fleeting, the moments are passing,
Passing from you and from me;
Shadows are gathering, death beds are coming,
Coming for you and for me.

Chorus
Come home,…come home,..
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

Oh! for the wonderful love He has promised,
Promised for you and for me;
Tho’ we have sinned, He has mercy and pardon,
Pardon for you and for me.

Chorus
Come home,…come home,..
Ye who are weary, come home;
Earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,
Calling, O sinner, come home!

I Found Jesus There

I Found Jesus There

The surgeon sat beside the boy’s bed; the boy’s parents sat across from him. “Tomorrow morning,” the surgeon began, “I’ll open up your heart…”

“You’ll find Jesus there,” the boy interrupted.

The surgeon looked up, annoyed. “I’ll cut your heart open,” he continued, “to see how much damage has been done…”

“But when you open up my heart, you’ll find Jesus in there.” The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly.

“When I see how much damage has been done, I’ll sew your heart and chest back up and I’ll plan what to do next.”

“But you’ll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You’ll find Him in my heart.”

The surgeon had had enough. “I’ll tell you what I’ll find in your heart. I’ll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I’ll find out if I can make you well.”

“You’ll find Jesus there too. He lives there.”

The surgeon left. The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery: “…damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis:” here he paused, “death within one year.”

He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. “Why?” he asked aloud.

“Why did You do this? You’ve put him here; You’ve put him in this pain; and You’ve cursed him to an early death. Why?” The Lord answered and said, “The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine. His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow.”

The surgeon’s tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. “You created that boy, and You created that heart. He’ll be dead in months. Why?”

The Lord answered,

“The boy, My lamb, shall come home to My flock, for he has done his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb.”

The surgeon wept.

The surgeon sat beside the boy’s bed; the boy’s parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, “Did you cut open my heart?”

“Yes,” said the surgeon.

“What did you find?” asked the boy.

“I found Jesus there,” said the surgeon.

Author Unknown

Daily Blessings



    The link to the Daily Blessing provider is given for credit purposes only. I cannot endorse all content on their website. - Angela

KJ Bible Search

    Find:
    Entire Bible
    Old Testament
    New Testament
    Red letter
    Show verse numbers only