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

The Cost of A Miracle

The Cost of A Miracle

Tess was a precocious eight-year-old when she heard her Mom and Dad talking about her little brother, Andrew. All she knew was that he was very sick and they were completely out of money. They were moving to an apartment complex next month because Daddy didn’t have the money for the doctor bills and our house.

Only a very costly surgery could save him now and it was looking like there was no one to loan them the money.

She heard Daddy say to her tearful Mother with whispered desperation, “Only a miracle can save him now.”

Not yet understanding what a miracle was, Tess went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured all the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall’s Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief above the door.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too intently talking to another man to be bothered by an eight year old at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster. No good. Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter.

That did it! “And what do you want?” the pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. “I’m talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven’t seen in ages,” he said without waiting for a reply to his question.

“Well, I want to talk to you about my brother,” Tess answered back in the same annoyed tone.

“He’s really, really sick…and I want to buy a miracle.” “I beg your pardon?” said the pharmacist. “

His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?”

“We don’t sell miracles here, little girl. I’m sorry but I can’t help you,” the pharmacist said, softening a little. “

Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn’t enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs.”

The pharmacist’s brother was a well dressed man. He stooped down and asked the little girl, “What kind of a miracle does you brother need?”

“I don’t know,” Tess replied with her eyes welling up. “I just know he’s really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can’t pay for it, so I want to use my money.

“How much do you have?” asked the man from Chicago. “One dollar and eleven cents,” Tess answered barely audibly. And it’s all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.”

“Well, what a coincidence,” smiled the man. “A dollar and eleven cents-the exact price of a miracle for little brothers.” He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said “Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let’s see if I have the kind of miracle you need.”

That well dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, a surgeon, specializing in neuro-surgery. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn’t long until Andrew was home again and doing well. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.

“That surgery,” her Mom whispered, “was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?”

Tess smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost…one dollar and eleven cents… plus the faith of a little child.

A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law…

Author Unknown

Scarred Hands

Scarred Hands

WILLIAM DIXON couldn’t believe there was a God, and he would certainly not forgive Him for taking away his young wife about two years after they were married, and his little boy had also died. Dixon felt very desolate and bitter.

Ten years after Mary Dixon’s death a stirring event occurred in the little village of Brackenthwaite. Old Peggy Winslow’s cottage caught fire, and was burnt to the ground. The poor old woman was pulled out alive, though nearly suffocated by smoke, when the bystanders were horrified to hear a child’s pitiful voice. It was the voice of little Dickey Winslow – Peggy’s orphan grandchild. The flames awoke him and drove him shrieking to the attic window.

Onlookers were much distressed to see the child’s plight, but felt it was too late to save him, as the stair had already fallen in. Suddenly, William Dixon rushed to the burning cottage, climbed up the iron piping, and took the trembling boy in his arms. Down he came again, holding the child in his right arm, and supporting himself by his left, the two reached the ground in safety, amid the cheers, just as the smoking wall fell.

Dickey was not hurt, but the hand with which Dixon held on to the hot piping was terribly burnt. The burn healed, but left a deep scar that he would carry to his grave.

Poor old Peggy could not rally from the shock, and died soon after. Then the question was: What is to become of Dickey? James Lovatt, a most respectable person, begged that Dickey be given to him to adopt, as he and his wife longed for a little lad, having lost one of their own. To every one’s surprise, Will Dixon made a similar request. It was difficult to decide between the two. So a meeting was called, composed of the minister, miller, and others.

Mr. Haywood, the miller, said: “It is very kind of both Lovatt and Dixon to offer to adopt the orphan boy, but I am in a great perplexity as to which of them ought to have him. Dixon, having saved his life, has the first claim; but, on the other hand, Lovatt has a wife, and the care of a woman is necessary to a child.”

Mr. Lipton, the minister, said: “A man of Dixon’s atheistic notions cannot be a suitable guardian for a child; whilst Lovatt and his wife are both Christian people, and would train up the child in the way he should go.”

“Dixon saved the child’s body, but it would be a sorry thing for the boy’s future welfare if the one who took him from the burning cottage would be the means of leading him to his eternal ruin.”

“We will hear what the applicants themselves have to say,” said Mr. Haywood, “then put the question to the vote, Mr. Lovatt.”

Mr. Lovatt replied: “Well, gentlemen, my wife and I lost a little lad of our own not long ago, and we feel this child would fill the vacant place. We would do our best to bring up the lad in the fear of the Lord. Besides, a child so young needs a woman to look after it.”

“Good, Mr. Lovatt; and now, Mr. Dixon.”

“I have only one argument, sir, and it is this,” answered Dixon quietly, as he took the bandage off his left hand, and held up the sadly scarred and injured member.

For a few moments there was quiet in the room, the eyes of some were dimmed. There was something in the sight of that scarred hand which appealed to their sense of justice. He had a claim on the boy by reason of what he has suffered for him. So, when the question was put to the vote, the meeting decided by a majority in favour of William Dixon.

So a new era began for Dixon. Dickey never missed a mother’s care, for Will was both father and mother to the orphan boy, and lavished all the pent-up tenderness of his strong nature upon the child he had saved.

Dickey was a clever boy, and quickly responded to his adopted father’s training; he adored him with all the fervour of his loving little heart. He remembered how “daddy” had saved him from the fire, and had claimed him because of the hand so dreadfully burnt for his sake. It moved Dickey to tears, with kisses on the hand that had been scarred for him.

One summer there was a great exhibition of pictures in the town and Dixon took Dickey to see them. The boy was greatly interested in the pictures and the stories daddy told about some of them. The picture that impressed him most was one of the Lord reproving Thomas; underneath which were the words:

“Reach hither thy finger, and behold my hands”- John 20:27.

Dickey read the words and said, “Please, daddy, tell me the story of that picture.” – “No, not that one!” – “Why not that one?”

“Because it’s a story I do not believe.”

“Oh, but that’s nothing”, urged Dickey; “you don’t believe the story of Jack the Giantkiller, yet it’s one of my favourites. Do tell me the story of the picture – please, daddy.” So Dixon told the story, and it interested him greatly.

“It’s like you and me, daddy,” said the boy. “When the Lovatts wanted to get me, you showed them your hand. Perhaps when Thomas saw the scars on the Good Man’s hands he felt that he belonged to Him.”

“I suppose so,” answered Dixon.

“The Good Man looked so sad,“ said Dickey, “I ‘spect He was sorry that Thomas did not believe at first. It was horrid of him not to, wasn’t it, after the Good Man had died for him? “

Dixon did not answer, and Dickey went on, “It would have been horrid of me if I’d contradicted like that when they told me about you and the fire, and said I didn’t believe you had done it; wouldn’t it, daddy?”

“I don’t want to think about him, my boy.”

“But perhaps he loved the Good Man after that, though – like I love you. When I see your poor hand, daddy, I love you more than millions and millions.”

Tired little Dickey fell asleep before he had measured the amount of his grateful affection; but Dixon’s rest was sorely disturbed that night. He could not get out of his thoughts the picture of that tender, sorrowful Face which had looked down on him from the walls of the exhibition. He dreamed of Lovatt and himself contending for the possession of Dickey; but when he showed his scarred hand the boy turned away from him. A bitter sense of injustice surged up in his heart.

He did not yield to this influence at once, but his love for Dickey had softened his heart, and the seed that was dropped in it that day did not fall upon stony ground. Dixon was an honest man, and he could not fail to see that the argument he had employed to make Dickey his own, rose up in judgment against him whilst he denied the claim of those scarred Hands which had been pierced for him; and when he saw the child’s warm hearted gratitude for the deliverance which his adopted father had wrought for him, Dixon felt that he cut a sorry figure beside his boy.

So, after a time, Dixon’s heart became as that of a little child. He found out by reading the Book, that as Dickey belonged to him, so he belonged to the Saviour who had been wounded for his transgressions, and he gave himself up body, soul and spirit – into the keeping of those blessed hands which had once been pierced for him.

“He was despised, and we esteemed Him not…. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities.” – “Who His Own Self bare our sins in His Own body on the tree” – 1 Pet. 2:24.

“The blood of Jesus Christ His son cleanseth us from all sin.” – 1 John 1:7.

“In Whom we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins.” – Eph. 1:7.

“Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.” – Acts 4:12.

What If?

What If?

What if, GOD couldn’t take the time to bless us today
because we couldn’t take the time to thank Him yesterday?

What if GOD decided to stop leading us tomorrow
because we didn’t follow Him today?

What if, we never saw another flower bloom
because we grumbled when GOD sent the Rain?

What if GOD didn’t walk with us today
because we failed to recognize it as His day?

What if, GOD took away the Bible tomorrow
because we would not read it today?

What if, GOD took away His message
because we failed to listen to the messenger?

What if, GOD didn’t send His only begotten Son
because He wanted us to be prepared to pay the price for sin.

What if, the door of the church was closed
because we did not open the door of our heart?

What if, GOD stopped loving and caring for us
because we failed to love and care for others?

What if, GOD would not hear us today
because we would not listen to Him?

What if, GOD answered our prayers
the way we answer His call to service?

What if, GOD met our needs the way we give Him our lives???

Author Unknown

When Jesus Looks

When Jesus Looks

When Jesus looks upon my life, What picture does He see.
Does He see His own reflection, Or does He just see me.
Does He see His likeness, The product of His hand.
Or just another Christian, Who never took a stand.

Does He see a child of God, A child that He set free.
Living life to honor Him, Or does He just see me.
What about the other folks, I meet along the way.
Do I show them Jesus, To brighten up their day.

When someone looks into my eyes, Can they truly see.
That calm and gentle peace of God, That dwells inside of me.
When I reach out and shake a hand, Is He right there in my grip.
Can they feel that strength from God, That steadies when I slip.

When folks are in my presence, Do they know His Spirit’s there.
Can they see that He’s the one, Who guides me everywhere.
When other people think of me, What is on their mind.
Do they think of Jesus Christ, So gentle and so kind.

I try to be like Jesus, Every single day.
Spreading love and kindness, All along my way.
I’m afraid that I have failed, I could not pass the test.
Deep inside my heart I know, I haven’t done my best.

I have had to fight my flesh, Since the day that I was born.
It’s always causing trouble, And being such a thorn.
That’s why His Spirit dwells in me, He’s helping me to learn.
In every situation, Where I need to turn.

He knew I’d never pass the test, That’s why He took my place.
He gave His life to save my soul, He suffered my disgrace.
Now I try to be like Him, I must present Him well.
So other folks will want His gift, And turn their backs on hell.

Other folks should see the joy, That Christ has given me.
They should want to have it too, Especially since it’s free.
They should begin to ask me, What is it they must do.
Just how it is they go about, Getting Jesus too.

Then I get to tell them, This wondrous gift is free.
It only takes a humble heart, A prayer on bended knee.
Someday when I’m face to face, With the Lord who set me free.
Will He see His own reflection, Or will He just see me.

Author unknown

God One-Liners

God One-Liners

1. Give God what’s right – not what’s left.

2. “Pray” is a four-letter word you can say anywhere – except in public schools.

3. Man’s way leads to a hopeless end – God’s way leads to an endless hope.

4. A lot of kneeling will keep you in good standing.

5. He who kneels before God can stand before anyone.

6. To be almost saved is to be totally lost.

7. In the sentence of life, the devil may be a comma – but never let him be the period.

8. Don’t put a question mark where God puts a period.

9. God grades on the cross, not the curve.

10. Are you wrinkled with burden? Come to the church for a facelift.

11. When praying, don’t give God instructions – just report for duty.

12. God doesn’t want shares of your life – He wants a controlling interest.

13. Don’t wait for six strong men to take you to church.

14. We don’t change God’s message – His message changes us.

15. The church is prayer-conditioned.

16. When God ordains, He sustains.

17. WARNING: Exposure to the Son may prevent burning.

18. Plan ahead – It wasn’t raining when Noah built the ark.

19. Most people want to serve God, but only in an advisory position.

20. Suffering with truth decay? Brush up on your Bible.

21. Exercise daily – walk with the Lord.

22. Coincidences happen when God chooses to remain anonymous.

23. Wisdom has two parts –

1) having a lot to say

2) not saying it.

24. Never give the devil a ride – he will always want to drive.

25. A clean conscience makes a soft pillow.

26. Nothing else ruins the truth like stretching it.

27. Compassion is difficult to give away because it keeps coming back.

28. He who angers you controls you.

29. Worry is the darkroom in which negatives can develop.

30. Give Satan an inch & he’ll be a ruler.

31. Forbidden fruits create many jams.

32. Be ye fishers of men -you catch them & He’ll clean them.

33. Deciding not to choose Jesus is still making a choice.

34. God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called.

35. If God is your co-pilot – swap seats.

Taking Aim

Taking Aim

A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a seminary class, given by her teacher, who we’ll call Brother Smith.  She says Brother Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons.

One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they were in for another fun day.  On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts.  Brother Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person’s picture.

Sally’s girlfriend (on her right), drew a picture of a girl who had  stolen her boyfriend.  Another friend (on her left) drew a picture of his little brother.  Sally drew a picture of a former friend, putting a great deal of detail into her drawing, even drawing pimples on the face.  Sally was pleased at the overall effect she had achieved.

The class lined up and began throwing darts, with much laughter and hilarity.  Some of the students threw their darts with such force that their targets were ripping apart.

Sally looked forward to her turn, and was filled with disappointment when Brother Smith, because of time limits, asked the students to return to their seats. As Sally sat thinking about how angry she was because she didn’t have a chance to throw any darts at her target, Brother Smith began removing the target from the wall. Underneath the target was a picture of Jesus .  .

A complete hush fell over the room as each student viewed the mangled picture of Jesus holes and jagged marks covered His face and His eyes were pierced out. Brother Smith said only these words, “In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto Me.” No other words were necessary; the tear-filled eyes of each student focused only on the picture of Christ.

“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 25:40

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