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

Stories

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

The Cleansing Blood

The Cleansing Blood

Author Unknown

One night in a church service a young woman felt the tug of God at her heart. She responded to God’s call and accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior. The young woman had a very rough past, involving alcohol, drugs, and prostitution. But, the change in her was evident. As time went on she became a faithful member of the church. She eventually became involved in the ministry, teaching young children. It was not very long until this faithful young woman had caught the eye and heart of the pastor’s son.

The relationship grew and they began to make wedding plans. This is when the problems began. You see, about one half of the church did not think that a woman with a past such as hers was suitable for a pastor’s son.

The church began to argue and fight about the matter. So they decided to have a meeting. As the people made their arguments and tensions increased, the meeting was getting completely out of hand. The young woman became very upset about all the things being brought up about her past. As she began to cry the pastor’s son stood to speak. He could not bear the pain it was causing his wife to be.

He began to speak and his statement was this:

” My fiancee’s past is not what is on trial here. What you are questioning is the ability of the blood of Jesus to wash away sin. Today you have put the blood of Jesus on trial. So, does it wash away sin or not?” The whole church began to weep as they realized that they had been slandering the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ. Too often, even as Christians, we bring up the past and use it as a weapon against our brothers and sisters. Forgiveness is a very foundational part of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. If the blood of Jesus does not cleanse the other person completely then it cannot cleanse us completely. If that is the case, then we are all in a lot of trouble.

What can wash away my sins, nothing but the blood of Jesus….end of case!!!

Pass this on to everyone that you truly care for at all….we all need this message…. God Forgives.. So Should We.

At the window

At the Window

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. And he was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target. And getting a little discouraged; he headed back for dinner.

As he was walking back he saw Grandma’s pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved. In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see his sister watching. Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch that day Grandma said, “Sally, let’s wash the dishes,” but Sally said, “Grandma, Joey told me he wanted to help in the kitchen.” Then she whispered to him, “Remember the duck?” So Joey did the dishes. Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, “I’m sorry but I need Sally to help make supper,” but Sally just smiled and said, “Well that’s all right because Joey told me he wanted to help.” She whispered again, “Remember the duck?”

So Sally went fishing and Joey stayed to help. After several days of Joey doing both his chores and Sally’s he finally couldn’t stand it any longer. He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed her duck. She gave him a hug, and said, “Sweetheart, I know. You see I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you.”

*Thought for the day: Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done and the enemy keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, debt, fear, hatred, anger, unforgiveness, bitterness, etc.) whatever it is, you need to know that Jesus Christ was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing.

He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven. He’s just wondering how long you will let the enemy make a slave of you. The great thing about God is that He not only forgives you, but He forgets.

Go ahead and make the difference in someone’s life today.

Share this with a family member or friend. Remember that Jesus is at the window.

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.”

Has His Hand Touched You?

Has His Hand Touched You?

The Masters hand is the only hand that can transform the soul. The Lord Jesus Christ is waiting and anxious to touch you with that blessed, life-giving and transforming touch that will make you a new creature in Christ Jesus… the touch that will turn your darkness into day, your sorrow into joy.

Hear His call: “Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow (Isaiah 1:18).

Friend, perhaps you think this message is not meant for you since you do not consider yourself a sinner because you have always lived a good and moral life. But if you are depending on “good works” to give you an entrance into Heaven instead of depending on the finished work of the Lord Jesus Christ, then you are deceiving yourself.

For on that “last day” you will not be measured or judged by man’s standard… but by God’s standard. The Word of God will read on that “last day”, for Jesus said: “The word that I have spoken, the same shall judge him in the last day” (John 12:48).

There is but one way, one door through which we must enter into the Kingdom of Heaven. Jesus said: “I am the door: by Me if any man enter in he shall be saved” (John 10:9). You enter in by that “door” when you accept the Lord Jesus Christ as your own Saviour.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever (anybody) believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16)

By Pastor Perry F. Rockwood

********

Please read: Touch of the Master’s Hand

Christmas Love

Christmas Love

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations — extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six year old. For weeks, he’d been memorizing songs for his school’s “Winter Pageant.” I didn’t have the heart to tell him I’d be working the night of the production.

Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. She assured me there’d be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in 10 minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song.

Because the public school system had long stopped referring to the holiday as “Christmas”, I didn’t expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment — songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son’s class rose to sing, “Christmas Love”, I was slightly taken aback by its bold title.

Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row — center stage — held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing “C is for Christmas”, a child would hold up the letter C. Then, “H is for Happy”, and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, “Christmas Love”.

The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her — a small, quiet, girl in the front row holding the letter “M” upside down –totally unaware her letter “M” appeared as a “W”. The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one’s mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her “W”.

Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood — the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities. For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear: CHRIST WAS LOVE.

And, I believe, He still is.

Author: Candy Chan

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

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