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

Learning from Gilbert

Learning from Gilbert

Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub Scouts only a short time.

During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and told to return home and give all to “Dad”.

That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried.

Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son.

The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed.

Finally, as Mom’s try to do, I stepped in to see if I could figure this all out. The project began. Having no carpentry skills, I decided it would be best if I simply read the directions and let Gilbert do the work. And he did.

I read aloud the measurements, the rules of what we could do and what we couldn’t do. Within days his block of wood was turning into a pine wood derby car. A little lopsided, but looking great (at least through the eyes of Mom).

Gilbert had not seen any of the other kids cars and was feeling pretty proud of his “Blue Lightning”, the pride that comes with knowing you did something on your own.

Then the big night came. With his blue pine wood derby in his hand and pride in his heart, we headed to the big race.

Once there, my little one’s pride turned to humility. Gilbert’s car was obviously the only car made entirely on his own. All the other cars were a father-son partnership, with cool paint jobs and sleek body styles made for speed.

A few of the boys giggled as they looked at Gilbert’s lopsided, wobbly, unattractive vehicle. To add to the humility, Gilbert was the only boy without a man at his side. A couple of the boys who were from single parent homes at least had an uncle or grandfather by their side, Gilbert had “Mom”.

As the race began, it was done in elimination fashion. You kept racing as long as you were the winner. One by one, the cars raced down the finely sanded ramp. Finally, it was between Gilbert and the sleekest, fastest looking car there.

As the last race was about to begin, my wide eyed, shy eight year old asked if they could stop the race for a minute, because he wanted to pray.

The race stopped.

Gilbert got down on his knees, clutching his funny looking block of wood between his hands. With a wrinkled brow, he set to converse with his Father. He prayed in earnest for a very long minute and a half. Then he stood, smile on his face and announced, “Okay, I am ready.”

As the crowd cheered, a boy named Tommy stood with his father as their car sped down the ramp. Gilbert stood with his Father within his heart and watched his block of wood wobble down the ramp with surprisingly great speed and rush over the finish line a fraction of a second before Tommy’s car.

Gilbert leaped into the air with a loud “Thank you” as the crowd roared in approval.

The Scout Master came up to Gilbert with microphone in hand and asked the obvious question, “So you prayed to win, huh, Gilbert?”

To which my young son answered, “Oh, no sir. That wouldn’t be fair to ask God to help you beat someone else. I just asked Him to make it so I don’t cry when I lose.”

Children seem to have a wisdom far beyond us.

Gilbert didn’t ask God to win the race, he didn’t ask God to fix the outcome, Gilbert asked God to give him strength in the outcome. When Gilbert first saw the other cars, he didn’t cry out to God, “No fair, they had a father’s help”. No, he went to his Father for strength.

Perhaps we spend too much of our prayer time asking God to rig the race, to make us number one, or too much time asking God to remove us from the struggle, when we should be seeking God’s strength to get through the struggle. He didn’t pray to win, thus hurt someone else, he prayed that God supply the grace to lose with dignity.

Gilbert, by his stopping the race to speak to his Father also showed the crowd that he wasn’t there without a “dad”, but His Father was most definitely there with him.

Yes, Gilbert walked away a winner that night, with his Father at his side.

Author unknown

A Choice

Take Refuge in the Only Haven of Rest

A Choice

Author Unknown

Cling to The Only Lifeline!

After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church’s pastor slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit and, before he gave his sermon for the evening, briefly introduced a guest minister who was in the service that evening. In the introduction, the pastor told the congregation that the guest minister was one of his dearest childhood friends and that he wanted him to have a few moments to greet the church and share whatever he felt would be appropriate for the service. With that, an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit and began to speak,

“A father, his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific Coast when fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to shore. The waves were so high, that even though the father was an experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright, and the three were swept into the ocean as the boat capsized.” The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began, looking somewhat interested in his story. The aged minister continued with his story, “Grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most excruciating decision of his life … to which boy he would throw the other end of the life line. He only had seconds to make the decision.

The father knew that his son was a Christian and he also knew that his son’s friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched by the torrent of waves. “As the father yelled out, ‘I love you, son!’ he threw out the life line to his son’s friend. By the time the father had pulled the friend back to the capsized boat, his son had disappeared beneath the raging swells into the black of night. His body was never recovered.”

By this time, the two teenagers were sitting up straight in the pew, anxiously waiting for the next words to come out of the old minister’s mouth. “The father,” he continued, “knew his son would step into eternity with Jesus, and he could not bear the thought of his son’s friend stepping into an eternity without Jesus. Therefore, he sacrificed his son to save his son’s friend. How great is the love of God that He should do the same for us. Our heavenly Father sacrificed His only begotten Son that we could be saved. I urge you to accept His offer to rescue you and take a hold of the life line He is throwing out to you in this service.” With that, the old man turned and sat back down in his chair as silence filled the room.

The pastor again walked slowly to the pulpit and delivered a brief sermon with an invitation at the end. However, no one responded to the appeal. Within minutes after the service ended, the two teenagers were at the old man’s side. “That was a nice story,” politely stated one of the boys, “but I don’t think it was very realistic for a father to give up his only son’s life in hopes that the other boy would become a Christian.” “Well, you’ve got a point there,” the old man replied, glancing down at his worn Bible.

A big smile broadened his narrow face, and he once again looked up at the boys and said, “It sure isn’t very realistic, is it? But I’m standing here today to tell you that THAT story gives me a glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up His Son for me. You see … I was that father and your pastor is my son’s friend.”

You Forgot My Soul

You Forgot My Soul

You lived next door to me for years;
We shared our dreams, our joys and tears.
A friend to me you were indeed,
A friend who helped me when in need.

My faith in you was strong and sure.
We had such trust as should endure.
No “words” between us could impose;
Our friends were like – and so, our foes.

What sadness, then, my friend, to find
That, after all, you weren’t so kind;
The day my life on earth did end,
I found you weren’t a faithful friend.

For all those years we spent on earth,
You never talked of second birth.
You never spoke of my lost soul
And of the Christ Who’d make me whole.

I’m lost today eternally
And tell you now my earnest plea.
You cannot do a thing for me –
No words today my bonds will free.

But – do not err, my friend, again –
Do all you can for souls of men.
Plead now with them quite earnestly,
Lest they be cast in hell with me.

Author Unknown.

Ready For Christmas?

Ready For Christmas?

“Ready for Christmas,” she said with a sigh,
As she gave a last touch to the gifts piled high,
Then wearily sat for a moment and read,
Till soon, very soon, she was nodding her head.

Then quietly spoke a voice in her dream,
“Ready for Christmas? What do you mean?
Ready for Christmas when only last week
You wouldn’t acknowledge your friend on the street.

“Ready for Christmas, while holding a grudge?
Perhaps you had better let God be the judge,
Why, how can the Christ-child come and abide
In the heart that is selfish and filled with pride?

“Ready for Christmas when only today
A beggar lad came and you turned him away
Without even a smile to show that you cared?
The little he asked – it could have been spared.

“Ready for Christmas? You’ve worked, it is true,
But just doing the things that you wanted to do.
Ready for Christmas? Your circle’s too small –
Why, you are not ready for Christmas at all!”

She awoke with a start and a cry of despair,
“There’s so little time and I’ve still to prepare.
O Father, forgive me, I see what You mean,
To be ready means more than a house swept clean.”

Yes, more than the giving of gifts and a tree,
It’s the heart swept clean that He wants to see;
A heart that is free from bitterness, sin –
Ready for Christmas – and ready for HIM.

A revised version of the poem by:
Alice Hansche Mortenson

Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world: For I was an hungred, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in: Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me.

Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?

And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
Matthew 25:34-40

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