Monday, April 4, 2011

We held a memorial service for my aunt this past weekend - she is pictured here (L) shopping with her girlfriend arounnd 1941.

She was always such a fun loving person who lived life to the fullest - I looked up to her so much and she was my lifeline after my mom passed away.

And oh... could we all laugh together at family gatherings! There were many photo's and scrapbooks that she had compiled when she was a teenager and as I was looking through them, I stumbled upon the following poem:


He gripped me by my slender neck

I could not call or scream

He dragged me to his dirty room

Where he could not be seen


He tore away my flimsy wraps

And gazed upon my form

I was cold and damp and scared

And he was hot and warm


He pressed his lips against mine

I gave him every drop

He drained me of myself

I could not make him stop


He made me what I am today

that is why you find me here

Just an empty bottle

That once was full of BEER

Sunday, April 3, 2011

thank you Lord....


My Pastor read the following in service this morning and it hit me right between the eyes:

We are world Christians.
We put God's love for all people first.
No race is superior to another; no government is more loved than another; no country dearer than another.
We don't put our nation's economy before God's economy. He tells us to seek first His Kingdom. He will meet our needs.
We are driven to action daily with the knowledge that three billion people do not know our Savior. Our passion in life, our unquenchable desire, is to take God's love to them.
No task is too small for us. All that limits us is our unwillingness to believe that God can enable us to do it.
We are sold out to Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Nothing less. We understand following Him means absolute death to ourselves.
It costs everything to be His disciple.

Don't give us blessings-give us grace to be unquestionably obedient to Your every last command and desire.
Don't give us status-give us a place to serve.
Don't give us things for our use-use us.
Don't give us good jobs-put us to work.
Don't give us comfort-command us.
Don't give us pleasure-give us perspective.
Don't give us satisfaction-teach us sacrifice.
Don't give us entertainment-enable us.
Don't give us good salaries-give us strength to do your will.

Our great joy in life is in pleasing our Lord-and there is no other joy comparable.
We are tired of playing religion, tired of seminaries and Bible schools that pump out thinkers who don't act, tired of a church life that consists of a few regular functions and sermons that sound good-as if they were being rated as speeches-but have no consequence except complacency.
Life is not some 70-year stretch we endure until Christ returns or takes us home, nor is it a time to seek personal fulfillment.
We don't seek self-actualization-rather, we pursue the actualization of God's love in all hearts.
We don't seek our personal rights-we seek to see all people set free.
We make no plans-we take orders.
We have no complaints-except our thankless hearts.
We have no excuses-they limit God.
We don't ask for reasons-we ask for responsibilities.
We don't give ten percent of our income to God-we give it all.
We don't work for Him from 8 to 5-we are His 24 hours of each day.
We are not stoics-we hurt and cry when loved ones leave us. But we hurt all the more for people who pass into eternity without making Jesus Christ their Lord.
We are not drop outs because we don't hold "respectable, secure" jobs-we're "sold outs."
We are not cynics. Although there are unanswered questions, we know Christ has all the answers.
We are not bitter. Although we have been hurt, Christ is our healer.
We are not disillusioned. Although we sin constantly, Christ forgives us and makes us strong in our weakness.
We don't spend endless hours squabbling over sideline issues such as pre-, mid- or post-tribulation or charismatic gifts. We don't take pride in acquiring things-no, hoarding shames us.
We say it's senseless to talk of availability or willingness. We would rather obey and do the job, not talk about it.

by Gordon Aescliman