Inspirational 12/09/10 Christmas Hardships

Christmas Hardships
Author: Dr. Ralph F. Wilson, The Workman Quarterly, Winter 1988

“Do you really expect me to go to Bethlehem?” Joseph banged down his chisel on the scarred bench.

Ephraim, his cousin, had just entered the low workshop. “You don’t have a choice, Joseph. If you don’t go the Romans will confiscate your house and your precious tools. Just try to carve a yoke with your fingernails.”

“What are we, cowards?” the carpenter retorted. “Mark my words, Ephraim, this ‘Enroll-in-your-ancestral-city’ business is nothing more than a way to squeeze more taxes out of us. If we give into those foreign tyrants now they’ll just be back for more money.”

“What’s more,” Joseph continued, “you’re crazy if you think I’d take Mary on a trip this month. She’d probably have the baby on the way!”

“Couldn’t you just leave her with your mother for a couple of weeks? She’d be all right. Nobody says the women have to go. It’s the heads of households who have to register.”

“Register, hah! Be taxed, you mean.”

“So why not leave her at home?”

Joseph brushed the woodchips aside and motioned for his cousin to sit down. The carpenter spoke in a low but earnest voice. “Mary’s aunt has made life miserable for her ever since she found out Mary was pregnant. Some people were willing to let it go. Not Tabitha.”

“She got my wife all stirred up about it,” Ephraim volunteered.

“Not just your wife. Most of the women in this town go out of their way to avoid her. At the village well they whisper, “Little slut!” just loud enough for her to hear. Many’s the day she’s come running home in tears.”

“People sure can be cruel,” Ephraim said. “At least you and Mary went ahead and got married.”

Joseph bit his lip, but didn’t say more.

Ephraim got up. “Well, you are going to Bethlehem, aren’t you? You’d be a fool to get the Romans on your back. You know what they did to old Ben.”

Joseph stood up slowly. “Yes, I’ll go. But Mary’ll have to come along. There’s no way I’d leave her in Nazareth by herself!”

However, when Joseph talked to Mary about it, she didn’t seem nearly as sure as her husband. “How could I walk all that way?” she said. “I waddle now. I just can’t make it.”

“Mary, we’ll bring old Jake. You can ride him when you get tired.”

“Have you ever ridden on Jake?”

“Well, no.”

“That animal is the most bony, jolting mule in Nazareth. I’d rather walk!”

She did ride, though ... some of the way. Joseph would finally stop for the day when Mary just couldn’t take any more. He’d help her down off Jake, then he’d fix a fire while she would unload their heavy blankets and try to find some shelter under a tree or large rock.

Mary would always be the center of attention among the few women traveling that time of year.

“I remember when I was carrying Levi,” one would start. “Made my feet swell. I couldn’t do anything for months.”

“That’s nothing,” replied another, “my sister got so big everyone thought she was carrying twins. But her time came there was only one baby. Died though.”

Joseph glanced over at Mary in the flickering firelight. He could see fear flit across her face. Her hands moved to her swollen belly so she could feel the baby’s reassuring kick.

The women didn’t notice. The first one went on, “Oh, the pain’s so awful! I’m glad I’m too old to have any more babies.”

Joseph put his arm around Mary’s shoulders and pulled her close. Only one more night on the road before Bethlehem.

They reached the sleepy village of Joseph’s ancestors just about dusk the fifth day. Joseph went to the inn and nearby houses trying to find a place to sleep. “God,” he whispered as he combed the town, “can’t You find us a decent place to have this baby?” Nothing.

All at once he saw Mary’s face tighten. She tried to suppress a groan as she fought with the pain. It was a long moment before she relaxed, but he could see worry written all over her.

Joseph went back to the innkeeper again. “Are you sure there isn’t any room? My wife’s about to have a baby. We’ve got to find a place out of this wind tonight!”

The innkeeper thought a while. “Did you try the house at the end of the street? They sometimes take people in.”

“I tried an hour ago.”

“Any relatives in town? Any second cousins?”

“No.”

Mary was shivering now, in obvious discomfort. “Joseph,” she said weakly, “I’ve got to lie down somewhere.”

“Well, there’s the stable in the back,” offered the innkeeper at long last. “Of course, it’s full of animals from all the visitors in town for that blasted Roman census. But if you can find a place in the corner, I guess that’d be okay.” He paused. “Just don’t keep the animals awake all night.”

It was the other way around. The dozen donkeys in the strange barn never stopped moving. And the smell was overpowering to Mary who had been fighting nausea as her pains got stronger.

In the wee hours of the morning Joseph knocked on the innkeeper’s door again.

“What do you want this time of night?” the innkeeper snarled when he finally came to the door.

“Is there a midwife in town?”

“Oh, it’s you. A midwife? Yes, old Martha lives in a little house about three blocks from here. You go down the main road, turn left at the two-story house, and go to the alley. You can’t miss it. You go down the alley and across the pasture. She lives in a shack just behind the third house after that.”

“I ... I really don’t think I should leave my wife. Her pains are coming awfully fast now.... Could you go?”

“Jonathan!” the innkeeper yelled into his darkened house. “Get up and fetch old Martha. A lady’s having a baby in the barn. Hurry!”

He turned to Joseph as he closed the door. “Have some pity, man. My whole family’s awake now.”

Pretty soon the door opened again and a young lad ran off in the chilly air. After a while he returned, walking slowly so he wouldn’t outdistance the old midwife whose arthritis certainly didn’t to take to cold winter nights. The boy was shivering by the time he got to the stable.

“Here’s Martha, sir,” he muttered quickly, and darted back into the warmth of his house.

The old lady put them at ease right away. She had Joseph fetch water and cloths from the innkeeper. It must have been nearly two in the morning by the time the baby came, and another hour before Joseph dug into his robe for a few coins to give the old woman as she hobbled away.

Then he returned to his wife and took her hand as they looked into the puffy face of their son. Alone at last.

“I’m so tired, Joseph,” Mary said, settling back into the blanket-covered straw.

The baby finally stopped crying and drifted off to sleep.

Joseph stirred a few minutes later as some men peered from the darkness into the lamp-lit stable. He nudged Mary awake and reached for his staff.

“What do you want?” Joseph said to the men in a forced whisper. “Don’t wake the baby.”

“We’re shepherds,” one called out. The baby started crying.

“We saw angels out on the hills an hour ago.” The entire story tumbled out as the shepherds edged into the stable to see the baby. Joseph relaxed his grip on the staff.

The shepherd continued, “And the angel told us, ‘To you is born this day in the City of David a Savior which is Messiah the Lord.’ The angel even told us about the swaddling cloths and the manger here.”

“The angel told you about the manger, too?” Joseph interrupted.

“Oh, yes. That’s how we knew where to look.”

Joseph glanced over at Mary. Her eyes met his. He squeezed her hand.

“This baby is the Messiah, isn’t he?” Joseph said quietly. “After all these hassles I had started to question. But...” He paused. “It’s almost like God planned the whole thing: the trip neither of us wanted to take.” He chuckled. “He must have seen you on bony old Jake.” Joseph laughed out loud. “Even this smelly old barn and its manger.”

He stood up, still chuckling. “What do you know? In spite of the problems--no, in the midst of the problems--God’s been at work all along.”

“And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.” -Luke 2:7 

“en sy het haar eersgebore Seun gebaar en Hom toegedraai in doeke en Hom in die krip neergelê, omdat daar vir hulle geen plek in die herberg was nie.” -Luke 2:7 

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Inspirational 12/08/10 White Roses & A Doll

White Roses & A Doll

Author: V. A. Bailey

I hurried into the local department store to grab some last minute Christmas gifts. I looked at all the people and grumbled to myself. I would be in here forever and I just had so much to do. Christmas was beginning to become such a drag. I kinda wished that I could just sleep through Christmas. But I hurried the best I could through all the people to the toy department.

Once again I kind of mumbled to myself at the prices of all these toys. And wondered if the grandkids would even play with them. I found myself in the doll aisle.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a little boy about 5 holding a lovely doll. He kept touching her hair and he held her so gently. I could not seem to help myself. I just kept looking over at the little boy and wondered who the doll was for.

I watched him turn to a woman and he called his aunt by name and said, “Are you sure I don’t have enough money?” She replied a bit impatiently, “You know that you don’t have enough money for it.” The aunt told the little boy not to go anywhere that she had to go get some other things and would be back in a few minutes. And then she left the aisle. The boy continued to hold the doll. After a bit I asked the boy who the doll was for. He said, “It is the doll my sister wanted so badly for Christmas. She just knew that Santa would bring it”. I told him that maybe Santa was going to bring it. He said, “No, Santa can’t go where my sister is. I have to give the doll to my Mamma to take to her”. I asked him where his sister was. He looked at me with the saddest eyes and said, “She has gone to be with Jesus. My Daddy says that Mamma is going to have to go be with her.”

My heart nearly stopped beating. Then the boy looked at me again and said, “I told my Daddy to tell Mamma not to go yet. I told him to tell her to wait till I got back from the store.”

Then he asked me if I wanted to see his picture. I told him I would love to. He pulled out some pictures he’d had taken at the front of the store. He said, “I want my Mamma to take this with her so she won’t ever forget me. I love my Mamma so very much and I wish she did not have to leave me. But Daddy says she will need to be with my sister.”

I saw that the little boy had lowered his head and had grown so very quiet. While he was not looking I reached into my purse and pulled out a handful of bills. I asked the little boy, “Shall we count that money one more time?”. He grew excited and said, “Yes, I just know it has to be enough.” So I slipped my money in with his and we began to count it.

Of course it was plenty for the doll. He softly said, “Thank you Jesus for giving me enough money.” Then the boy said, “I just asked Jesus to give me enough money to buy this doll so Mamma can take it with her to give to my sister. And he heard my prayer. I wanted to ask him for enough to buy my Mamma a white rose, but I didn’t ask him, but he gave me enough to buy the doll and a rose for my Mamma. She loves white roses so very, very much.”

In a few minutes the aunt came back and I wheeled my cart away. I could not keep from thinking about he little boy as I finished my shopping in a totally different spirit than when I had started. And I kept remembering a story I had seen in the newspaper several days earlier about a drunk driver hitting a car and killing a little girl and the Mother was in serious condition.

The family was deciding on whether to remove the life support. Now surely this little boy did not belong with that story. Two days later I read in the paper that the family had disconnected the life support and the young woman had died. I could not forget the little boy and just kept wondering if the two were somehow connected. Later that day, I could not help myself and I went out and bought some white roses and took them to the funeral home where the young mother was. And there she was holding a lovely white rose, the beautiful doll, and the picture of the little boy in the store. I left there in tears, my life changed forever. The love that little boy had for his little sister and his mother was overwhelming. And in a split second a drunk driver had ripped the life of that little boy to pieces.

“Friends are angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly.”

“And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest: for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways;” –Luke 1:76

“En jy, kindjie, sal ‘n profeet van die Allerhoogste genoem word, want jy sal voor die aangesig van die Here uitgaan om sy weë reg te maak;” –Luke 1:76

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MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

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Inspirational 12/07/10 My First Christmas in Heaven

My First Christmas in Heaven

Author: Wanda Bencke

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below

With tiny lights like heaven’s stars reflecting on the snow.
The sight is so spectacular---please wipe away that tear.
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear,
But the sounds of music can’t compare

With the Christmas choir up here.
I have no words to tell you the joy their voices bring
For it is beyond description to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me---I see the pain inside your heart.
But I am not so far away; We really aren’t apart.
So be happy for me dear ones; You know I hold you dear;
And be glad I’m spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

I send you each a special gift from my heavenly home above.
I send you each a memory of my undying love.
After all “love” is the gift more precious than pure gold.
It was always most important in the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other as my Father said to do,
For I can’t count the blessing or love He has for you.

So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear.
Remember I’m spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.

A note from the author “Wanda Bencke”:
Lysandra Kay Bencke was my thirteen year old handicapped daughter. On Christmas day 1997, Lysandra had a seizure and was in a coma for five days before she passed away. During those five days I wrote “Christmas in Heaven.”

“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” -Luke 2:13-14 KJV

“A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another.” -John 13:34-35

“En skielik was daar saam met die engel ‘n menigte van die hemelse leërskare wat God prys en sê: Eer aan God in die hoogste hemele en vrede op aarde, in die mense ‘n welbehae!” -Luke 2:13-14

“‘n Nuwe gebod gee Ek julle, dat julle mekaar moet liefhê; soos Ek julle liefgehad het, moet julle ook mekaar liefhê. Hieraan sal almal weet dat julle my dissipels is, as julle liefde onder mekaar het.” -John 13:34-35

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Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

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Inspirational 12/06/10 It's Really Christmas Now

It's Really Christmas Now

Author: Kitsy Jones

The Sunday before Christmas last year, my husband, a police officer in Arlington, Texas, and I were just leaving for church when the phone rang.  Probably someone wanting Lee, who has already worked a lot of extra hours, to put in some more, I thought.  I looked at him and commanded, “We're going to church!”

“I’ll leave in five minutes and be there in about twenty,” I heard him tell the caller.  I seethed, but his next words stopped me short.

“A Wish with Wings was broken into last night, and the presents are gone,” he told me.  “I have to go.  I’ll call you later.”  I was dumbfounded.

A Wish with Wings - Lee serves on the administrative board - is an organization in our area that grants wishes for children with devastating illnesses.  Each year Wish also gives a Christmas party, where gifts are distributed.  Some 170 donated gifts had been wrapped and were ready for the party, which was to be held that evening, less than nine hours away.

In a daze, I dressed our two children - Ben, just seventeen months, and five-year-old Kate - and we went to church.  In between services, I told friends and the pastors about what had happened.  The president of our Sunday school gave me forty dollars to buy more presents.  One teacher said her class was bringing gifts to donate to another charitable organization and they would be happy to give some of them to Wish.  ‘A dent,’ I thought.

At 10:30 A.M., I phoned Lee at the Wish office.  He was busy making other calls, so I packed up the kids and headed in his direction.  I arrived at a barren scene.  Shattered glass covered the front office where the thief had broken the door.  The chill that pervaded the room was caused not only by the cold wind coming through the broken door but also by the dashed hopes of the several people who stood inside - including Pat Skaggs, the founder of Wish, and Adrena Martinez, the administrative assistant.

Looking out at the parking lot, I was startled to see a news crew from a local television station unloading a camera.  Then I learned that Lee's first phone calls had been to the local radio and TV stations.

A few minutes later, a family who had heard a radio report arrived with gifts, already wrapped.  Other people soon followed.  One was a little boy who had brought things from his own room.

I left to get lunch for my kids and some drinks for the workers.  When I got back, I found the volunteers eating pizzas that had been donated by a local pizza place.  More strangers had arrived, offering gifts and labor.  A glass repair company had fixed the door and refused payment.  We began to feel hope: Maybe we could still have the party!

Lee was fielding phone calls, sometimes with a receiver in each ear.  Ben was fussing, so I headed home with him, hoping he could take a nap and I could find a baby-sitter.

Meanwhile, the city came alive.  Two other police officers were going from church to church to spread the news.  Lee told me later of a man who came directly from church, complete with coat and tie, and went to work on the floor, wrapping presents.  A third officer, whose wife is a deejay for a local radio station, put on his uniform and stood outside the station collecting gifts while his wife made a plea on the air.  The fire department agreed to be a drop-off point for gifts.  Lee called and asked me to bring our van so it could be used to pick them up.

The clock was ticking.  It was mid-afternoon, and 6:00 P.M. - the scheduled time of the party - was not far away.  I couldn't find a sitter, and my son started running a fever of 103 degrees, so I took him with me to the Wish building just long enough to trade cars with Lee.

Nothing I had ever witnessed could have prepared me for what I saw there - people lined up at the door, arms laden with gifts.  One family in which the father had been laid off brought the presents from under their own tree.  It was like a scene from ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’.

Inside, Lee was still on the phone.  Outside, volunteers were loading vans with wrapped gifts to be taken to the party site, an Elks lodge six miles away.  By 5:50 P.M. - just before the first of the more than 100 children arrived - enough presents had been delivered to the lodge.  Somehow, workers had matched up the donated items with the youngsters’ wishes, so many received just what they wanted.  Their faces shown with delight as they opened the packages.  For some, it would be their last Christmas.

Those presents, however, were only a small portion of what came in during the day.  Wish had lost 170 gifts in the robbery, but more than 1,500 had been donated!  Lee decided to spend the night at the office to guard the surplus, so I packed some food and a sleeping bag and drove them down to the office.  There, gifts were stacked to the ceiling, filling every available inch of space except for a small pathway that had been cleared to the back office.

Lee spent a quiet night, but the phone started ringing again at 6:30 A.M.  The first caller wanted to make a donation, so Lee started to give him directions.  "You'd better give me the mailing address," the caller said.  “I’m in Philadelphia.”  The story had been picked up by the national news.  Soon calls were coming from all over the country.

By midday, the Wish office was again filled with workers, this time picking up the extra gifts to take to other charitable organizations so they could distribute them before Christmas, just two days away.  Pat and Adrena, whose faces had been tear-stained twenty-four hours earlier, were now filled with joy.

When Lee was interviewed for the local news, he summed up everyone's feeling:  “It's really Christmas now.”  We had all caught the spirit - and the meaning - of the season.

Reprinted by permission of Kitsy Jones © 1998, from A Second Chicken Soup for the Woman’s Soul by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Jennifer Read Hawthorne and Marci Shimoff.

“And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” –Luke 2:13-14

“En skielik was daar saam met die engel ‘n menigte van die hemelse leërskare wat God prys en sê: Eer aan God in die hoogste hemele en vrede op aarde, in die mense ‘n welbehae!” –Luke 2:13-14

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In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

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Inspirational 12/03/10 A Kind of a Christmas Story

A Kind of a Christmas Story

Author: Randy Keith

I was born in 1936. As a boy in 1945 I lived in a typical small southern town. All of us were involved in what was to be called the war to end all wars. Of course we all now know that the man who called it that was not a prophet of God. Some were actually fighting while some of us were still at home but we were all emotionally involved in that terrible war.

In May that year a revival was started in what I think was the second largest church in the town. As a church its personality was one of stiff, albeit friendly and maybe even Christian, competition with the largest church in town. Of course they wanted to become as large or larger, but certainly never as “moderate”. Some in the smaller church would even suggest that the biggest church was “liberal” in their worship and interpretation of God’s word. People didn’t think of that as a very nice thing to say about folks in that area in that era. We now refer to the area as the “Bible Belt” of the country (some in a not so nice way) and I am convinced that in that era even sinners were more attuned to the voice of God than many so-called Christians are today.

You would think, looking back with a little knowledge about human nature, that this was a perfect time for revival. Folks were already praying hard for our nation and especially for our soldiers in the war. I doubt, though, that this revival will ever be referred to as an example of what you want your revivals to be like. I believe most of the members liked the evangelist’s preaching. However, although my memory isn’t too clear on this point, for the entire two weeks I don’t remember a single “sinner” going forward during the “altar call” to get saved. Except for members rededicating their lives to Christ” there was certainly little activity. Naturally everyone was always glad for the Christians to rededicate their lives, but in this area of the country, a revival’s success was usually measured by the number of folks who got saved.

I personally don’t remember too much about the proceedings. I don’t remember a word that was preached. However, I was already more than a little concerned about “where I’d spend eternity”. I was being raised by God-fearing parents and was certainly very much aware that there was a wonderful place called Heaven where any one with a lick of sense wanted to live after they died. I knew as much or more about the alternative and was not too excited with my current prospects. With every revival service the feeling that I should respond to the “invitation” grew stronger. My heart would race and my ears would burn so hot I figured everyone could see them and knew that I was already feeling the heat from my future abode, but I just couldn’t get my feet to move.

After the regular service on the last Thursday evening before the revival closed there was a prayer meeting in a small Sunday School room in the basement of the church. Fewer than ten people were in attendance but I won’t tax my memory with the identity of but three of them. My mother and I were there and Jesus was there. I already knew about Him. When I left that little room that night I knew Him. No, most folks wouldn’t call it a very successful revival as revivals went in those days, but it was the most successful revival of my life. No, it wasn’t Christmas, but for one little boy it is the night Jesus was born because that night He was born in my heart. That manger scene means nothing without the birth of Jesus in your heart.

I was nine years old then and except for some time off for “bad behavior” that is the birth of Jesus I have tried to celebrate in my heart and life daily ever since. After all these years our relationship is still not what it should be from my side. I have come to love Jesus more with the passage of time. Although I still love Him with imperfect love, I am secure in the knowledge of his perfect love for me. I am trying each day … well, nearly each day, to understand and apply a little more of His love to my life. It may sound a bit selfish to some that I seem to just concern myself with His love for me. However, while you can’t do anything to stop Him from loving you just as much as He loves me, at the same time I can do nothing to cause you to appropriate His love for you.

I can tell you that this story is true.

It is my story of His story. His story is history. Your story is still future. If you have not already done so there is still time to celebrate the birth of Jesus today for the first time, or again.

Please Read: (KING JAMES VERSION)

Romans 3:23       

“For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;”

You are a sinner. (All means you.)

Romans 6:23       

“For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Because of that you deserve to die, but instead God offers you a free gift of eternal life.

Romans 10:9-10   

“That if thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thine heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved.  For with the heart man believeth unto righteousness; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation.”

The way to receive that free gift.

and   

St. John 3:16       

“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.”

A bonus verse. Confirmed!  Everlasting Life! Hallelujah!

If you haven't already done so, please ask Jesus to come into your heart today!

To the World With Love,
Randy Keith                       

“No man, when he hath lighted a candle, putteth it in a secret place, neither under a bushel, but on a candlestick, that they which come in may see the light.” - Luke 11:33

“En niemand steek ‘n lamp op en sit dit in ‘n verborge plek of onder die maatemmer nie, maar op die staander, sodat die wat binnekom, die lig kan sien.” - Luke 11:33

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In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

When forwarding / copying, please include the entire message.

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Inspirational 12/02/10 The Big Wheel

The Big Wheel

Author: Unknown

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone. The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds.

He did manage to leave $15 a week to buy groceries.

Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either.

If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it. I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress, loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job.

The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck.

The kids stayed crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whoever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job - still no luck. The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town; was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour, and I could start that night. I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal. That night when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers, we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel.

When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money--fully half of what I averaged every night. As the weeks went by, heating bills added a strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing; just those beautiful brand new tires.

Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires. I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids.

I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys; then hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys’ pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair. On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe.

A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning, to my amazement, my old battered Chevy was filled full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes. I quickly opened the driver's side door, crawled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat.

Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes. There was candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items. And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy on the faces of my little ones that precious morning.

Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop....

***A note from Sherry***

If you get an opportunity to be one of these angels this season and even throughout the year please take it. It is a blessing that can not be described to be an anonymous angel!

“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 

“En die Koning sal antwoord en vir hulle sê: Voorwaar Ek sê vir julle, vir sover julle dit gedoen het aan een van die geringstes van hierdie broeders van My, het julle dit aan My gedoen.” - Matthew 25:40 

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In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

When forwarding / copying, please include the entire message.

To subscribe please send an email to:
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Inspirational 12/01/10 The Dime

The Dime
Author: Unknown

Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold. Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already.  And, try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought,

"This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend."

Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far.

What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the house hold in their mother's absence. All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother.  Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to.  Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach.

It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment.  As he held his new found treasure, warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw.  His excitement quickly turned cold when the salesperson told him that he couldn't buy anything with only a dime.

He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten cent offering.  Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you."  As Bobby waited he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers.  The sound of the door closing as the last customer left jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid.

Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter.  There, before Bobby's eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box.  "That will be ten cents young man." the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime.

Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true?  No one else would give him a thing for his dime!  Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?"  This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son."

As he returned inside, the shop keeper's wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?"

Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway.  Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime. When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too, was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars.  When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses."

The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.

May this story instill the spirit of Christmas in you enough to pass this act along.

“Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” - James 1:27 

“Reine en onbesmette godsdiens voor God en die Vader is dít: om wese en weduwees in hulle verdrukking te besoek en jouself vlekkeloos te bewaar van die wêreld.” - James 1:27 

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In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

When forwarding / copying, please include the entire message.

To subscribe please send an email to:
Sherrys_Inspirational-subscribe@googlegroups.com

We invite you to visit our website at: http://groups.google.com/group/Sherrys_Inspirational