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

Service

The Room

THE ROOM

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. “I wowed ‘em,” he later told his father, Bruce. “It’s a killer. It’s the best thing I ever
wrote.” It also was the last.

Brian’s parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager’s locker at Teary Valley High School . Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.

Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen’s life. But it was only after Brian’s death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. “It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there.”  Mr. Moore said.

Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moores framed a copy of Brian’s essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room.. “I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,” Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son’s vision of life after death. “I’m happy for Brian. I know he’s in heaven. I know I’ll see him.”

Brian’s Essay: The Room…

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I have liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. Then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalogue system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have betrayed.” The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed at.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve yelled at my brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than  I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “TV Shows I have watched”, I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast wasted time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card.  I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title was “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused.. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me..

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. “No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so   quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last  file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.” I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.”-Phil. 4: 13 “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.”
My “People I shared the gospel with” file just got bigger, how about yours? If you feel the same way forward it to as many people as you can so they can understand the salvation that only Jesus can bring. Please also send them to God’s Simple Plan of Salvation.

So Little Time

So Little Time

By John R. Rice

So little time! The harvest will be over.
Our reaping done, we reapers taken Home.
Report our work to Jesus, Lord of harvest,
And hope He’ll smile and that He’ll say, “Well done!”

Chorus

Today we reap, or miss our golden harvest!
Today is given us lost souls to win.
Oh then to save some dear ones from the burning.
Today we’ll go to bring some sinner in.

How many times I should have strongly pleaded;
How often did I feel to strictly warn.
The Spirit moved, oh had I pled for Jesus!
The grain is fallen, lost ones not reborn.

Chorus

Today we reap, or miss our golden harvest!
Today is given us lost souls to win.
Oh then to save some dear ones from the burning.
Today we’ll go to bring some sinner in.

Despite the heat, the ceaseless toil, the hardship,
The broken heart over those we cannot win;
Misunderstood, because we’re oft peculiar,
Still no regrets we’ll have but for our sin.

Chorus

Today we reap, or miss our golden harvest!
Today is given us lost souls to win.
Oh then to save some dear ones from the burning.
Today we’ll go to bring some sinner in.

A day of pleasure, or a feast of friendship,
A house or car or garments fair or fame,
Will all be trash, when souls are brought to Heaven,
And then how sad to face the slackers blame!

Chorus

Today we reap, or miss our golden harvest!
Today is given us lost souls to win.
Oh then to save some dear ones from the burning.
Today we’ll go to bring some sinner in.

The harvest white, with reapers few is wasting
And many souls will die and never know.
The love of Christ, the joy of sins forgiven.
Oh let us weep and love and pray and go!

Chorus

Today we reap, or miss our golden harvest!
Today is given us lost souls to win.
Oh then to save some dear ones from the burning.
Oh will you go and bring some sinner in?

*********

But if the watchman see the sword come,
and blow not the trumpet, and the people be not warned;
if the sword come, and take any person from among them,
he is taken away in his iniquity;
but his blood will I require at the watchman’s hand.

Ezekiel 33:6

Tangled Hair

Tangled Hair

Beth was sitting at an airport terminal, waiting to board a plane. She was sitting there with several other people who were also waiting, whom she did not know. As she waited, she pulled out her Bible and started reading.

All of a sudden she felt as if the people sitting there around her were looking at her. She looked up, but realized that they were looking just over her head, in the direction right behind her.

She turned around to see what everyone was looking at, and when she did, she saw a stewardess pushing a wheelchair, with the ugliest old man sitting in it, that she had ever seen before.

He had this long white hair that was all tangled and such a mess.

His face was really, really wrinkled and he didn’t look friendly at all.

She said she didn’t know why, but she felt drawn to the man, and thought at first that God wanted her to witness to him.

In her mind she said she was thinking, “Oh, God, please, not now, not here.” No matter what she did, she couldn’t get the man off of her mind, and all of a sudden she knew what God wanted her to do. She was supposed to brush this old man’s hair.

She went and knelt down in front of the old man, and said “Sir may I have the honor of brushing your hair for you?”  He said “What?”

She thought, “Oh great, he’s hard of hearing.” Again, a little louder, she said, “Sir may I have the honor of brushing you hair for you?”

He answered “If you are talking to me, you are going to have to speak up, I am practically deaf.”

So this time, she was almost yelling, “Sir may I please have the honor of brushing your hair for you?”

Everyone was watching to see what his response would be. The old man just looked at her confused and said, “I guess if you really want to.” She thought, “I don’t even have a brush, but I thought I would ask anyway.”

He said “Look in the bag hanging on the back of my chair, there is a brush in there.”

So she got the brush out and started brushing his hair. (She has a little girl with long hair, so she has had lots of practice getting tangles out, and knew how to be gentle with him.)

She worked for a long time, until every last tangle was out. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the old man crying, and she went and put her hands on his knees, kneeling in front of him again looking directly into his eyes, and said  “Sir, do you know Jesus?”

He answered, “Yes, of course I know Jesus. You see, my bride told me she couldn’t marry me unless I knew Jesus, so I learned all about Jesus and asked Him to come into my heart many years ago, before I married my bride.”

He continued, “You know, I am on my way home to go and see my wife. I have been in the hospital for a long time and had to have a special surgery in this town far from my home. My wife couldn’t come with me because she is so frail herself.”

He said, “I was so worried about how terrible my hair looked and I didn’t want her to see me looking so awful, but I couldn’t brush my hair, all by myself.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks, as he thanked Beth for brushing his hair. He thanked her over and over again.

She was crying, people all around witnessing this were crying, and as they were all boarding the plane, the stewardess, who was also crying stopped her and asked,  “Why did you do that?”

And right there was the opportunity, the door that had been opened to share with someone else, the love of God.

We don’t always understand God’s ways, but be ready. He may use us to meet the need of someone else, like He met the need of this old man, and in that moment, also calling out to a lost soul who needed to know about His love.

Beth Moore Apr 20, 2005 Knoxville Airport.

In God we trust,
Through Christ we Live,
in the World we Serve,
may the Blessings of the Lord be with you.

Author Unknown

Just One More Knock

Just One More Knock

Every Sunday afternoon, after the morning service at their church, the Pastor and his eleven year old son would go out into their town and hand out Gospel Tracts. This particular Sunday afternoon, as it came time for the Pastor and his son to go to the streets with their tracts, it was very cold outside as well as pouring down rain.

The boy bundled up in his warmest and driest clothes and said “OK dad, I’m ready.” His Pastor dad asked, “Ready for what? “Dad, it’s time we gather our tracts together and go out.” Dad responds, “Son, it’s very cold outside and it’s pouring down rain.” The boy gives his dad a surprised look, asking, “But dad, aren’t People still going to Hell, even though it’s raining?”

Dad answers, “Son, I am not going out in this weather.” Despondently the boy asks. “Dad, can I go–Please?” His father hesitated for a moment then said, “Son, you can go. Here’s the tracts; be careful son.” “Thanks Dad!!!” And with that he was off and out into the rain.

This eleven year old boy walked the streets of the town going door to door and handing everybody he met in the street a Gospel Tract. After 2 hours of walking in the rain he was soaking bone chilled wet and down to his VERY LAST TRACT. He stopped on a corner and looked for someone to hand a tract to but the streets were totally deserted. Then he turned toward the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the door bell.

He rang the bell–but nobody answered. He rang it again and again bit still no one answered. He waited but still no answer. Finally this eleven year old trooper turned to leave but something stopped him. Again, he turned to the door and rang the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He waited, something holding him there on the front porch.

He rang again, and this time the door slowly opened. Standing in the doorway was a very sad looking elderly lady. She softly asked, “What can I do for you son?” With radiant eyes and a Smile that lit up her world this little boy said, “Mam, I’m sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU, and I came to give you my very last Gospel Tract which will tell you all about JESUS and His great LOVE.” With that he handed her his last tract, and turned to leave.

She called to him as he departed, “Thank you son! And God Bless You!”

Well, the following Sunday Morning in Church, Pastor Dad was in the Pulpit and as the service began he asked, “Does anybody have a testimony or want to say anything?”

Slowly, in the back row of the Church, an elderly lady stood to her feet. As she began to speak a look of glorious radiance came from her face as she said– “None of you in this church know me. I’ve never been here before. You see, before last Sunday I was not a Christian. My husband has passed on, some time ago, leaving me totally alone in this world. Last Sunday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, It was even more so in my heart as I came to the end of the line where I no longer had any hope or will to live. So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic of my home. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof then stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted, I was about to leap off when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs startled me.

I thought, ‘I’ll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go away.’ I waited and waited–But the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly. I thought to myself again, ‘Who on earth could this be?! Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me.”

I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the Bell rang louder and louder. When I opened the door and looked I could hardly believe my eyes for there on my front porch was the most radiant and Angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life. His SMILE, Oh, I could never describe it to you !!! And the Words that came from his mouth caused my Heart, that had long been dead, TO LEAP TO LIFE as he exclaimed with cherub like voice, ‘Ma’am, I just came to tell you that JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU.’ Then he gave me this Gospel Tract that I now hold in my hand.

As the little Angel disappeared back out, into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read slowly every word of this Gospel Tract. Then I went up to my attic to get my rope and chair. I wouldn’t be needing them any more. You see, I am now a Happy Child of the KING, and since the address of your Church was on the back of this Gospel Tract I have come here to personally say, THANK YOU TO GOD’S LITTLE ANGEL WHO CAME JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME AND, BY SO DOING, SPARED MY SOUL FROM ETERNITY IN HELL .”

There were now no dry eyes in the Church. And as Shouts of Praise, and Honor to THE KING, resounded off the very rafters of the building. Pastor Dad descended from the pulpit to the front pew where the little Angel was seated; He took him in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Probably no Church has had a more glorious moment. AND probably this Universe has never seen a Papa that was more filled with love & honor for his son, EXCEPT for one—this FATHER also allowed His Son to go out into a Cold & Dark World.

He received His Son back with Joy unspeakable, and as all of Heaven Shouted Praises and Honor to THE KING, The FATHER sat HIS BELOVED SON on a Throne far above all Principality and Power….and every name that is named….

There may be SOMEONE, reading this, who is also going through a Dark, Cold, Lonely time in your soul. You may be a Christian, for we are not without problems, OR you may not yet Know THE KING. Whatever the case, and Whatever the problem or situation you find yourself in, and no matter how DARK it may seem, I want you to know that I just came to tell you, JESUS REALLY DOES LOVE YOU.

Author Unknown

“Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” Revelation 3:20

When He Knocks,

Will You Let Him In?

Is Your All on the Altar

Is Your All on the Altar

by Elisha A. Hoffman

You have longed for sweet peace, and for faith to increase,
And have earnestly, fervently prayed;
But you cannot have rest or be perfectly blest
Until all on the altar is laid.

Chorus
Is your all on the altar of sacrifice laid?
Your heart, does the Spirit control?
You can only be blest and have peace and sweet rest,
As you yield Him your body and soul.

Would you walk with the Lord, in the light of His Word,
And have peace and contentment alway,
you must do His sweet will,
to be free from all ill,
On the altar your all you must lay.

Chorus
Is your all on the altar of sacrifice laid?
Your heart, does the Spirit control?
You can only be blest and have peace and sweet rest,
As you yield Him your body and soul.

Oh, we never can know what the Lord will bestow
Of the blessings for which we have prayed,
Till our body and soul He doth fully control,
And our all on the altar is laid.

Chorus
Is your all on the altar of sacrifice laid?
Your heart, does the Spirit control?
You can only be blest and have peace and sweet rest,
As you yield Him your body and soul.

Who can tell all the love He will send from above,
And how happy our hearts will be made,
Of the fellowship sweet
we shall share at His feet,
When our all on the altar is laid.

Chorus
Is your all on the altar of sacrifice laid?
Your heart, does the Spirit control?
You can only be blest and have peace and sweet rest,
As you yield Him your body and soul.

All That He Had To Offer

All That He Had To Offer

Here is a story, about a nine year old boy who lived in a rural town in Tennessee. His house was in a poor area of the community. A church there had a bus ministry that came knocking on his door on Saturday afternoon.

The child came to answer the door and greeted the bus pastor.

The bust pastor asked if his parents were home and the small boy told him that his parents take off every weekend and leave him at home to take care of his little brother. The bus pastor couldn’t believe what the child said and asked him to repeat it. The youngster gave the same answer and the bus pastor asked to come in and talk with him. They went into the living room and sat down on an old couch with the foam and springs exposed. The bus pastor asked the child, “Where do you go to church?”

The young boy surprised the visitor by replying, “I’ve never been to church in my whole life.” The bus pastor thought to himself about the fact that his church was less than three miles from the child’s house.

“Are you sure you have never been to church?” he asked again.

“I’m sure I haven’t,” came his answer.

Then the bus pastor said, “Well, son, more important than going to church, have you ever heard the greatest love story ever told?” and then he proceeded to share the Gospel with this little nine year old boy.

The young lad’s heart began to be tenderized and at the end of the bus pastor’s story, the bus pastor asked if the boy wanted to receive this free gift from God. The youngster exclaimed, “OF COURSE!”

The child and the bus pastor got on their knees and the lad invited Jesus into his little heart and received the free gift of salvation. They both stood up and the bus pastor asked if he could pick the child up for church the next morning.

“Sure,” the nine year old replied.

The bus pastor got to the house early the next morning and found the lights off. He let himself in and snaked his way through the house and found the little boy asleep in his bed. He woke up the little boy and his brother and helped get them dressed. They got on the bus and ate a doughnut for breakfast on their way to church.

Keep in mind that this boy had never been to church before.

The church was a real big one. The little child just sat there, clueless of what was going on. A few minutes into the service, these tall unhappy guys walked down to the front and picked up some wooden plates. One of the men prayed and the child, with utter fascination, watched them walk up and down the aisles. He still didn’t know what was going on. Suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, it hit the child what was taking place.

These people must be giving money to Jesus. He then reflected on the free gift of life he had received just twenty-four hours earlier. He immediately searched his pockets, front and back, and couldn’t find a thing to give Jesus.

By this time the offering plate was being passed down his aisle and, with a broken heart, he just grabbed the plate and held onto it. He finally let go and watched it pass on down the aisle. He turned around to see it passed down the aisle behind him.

And then his eyes remained glued on the plate as it was passed back and forth, back and forth all the way to the rear of the sanctuary.

Then he had an idea. This little nine year old boy, in front of God and everybody, got up out of his seat. He walked about eight rows back, grabbed the usher by the coat and asked to hold the plate one more time. Then he did the most astounding thing I have ever heard of. He took the plate, sat it on the carpeted church floor and stepped into the center of it.

As he stood there, he lifted his little head up and said, “Jesus, I don’t have anything to give you today, but just me. I give you me!”

Author Unknown

I beseech you therefore, brethren,
by the mercies of God,
that ye present your bodies
a living sacrifice,
holy, acceptable unto God,
which is your reasonable service.
Romans 12:1

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