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Love Stories |
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One day, I woke early in the morning to watch the sunrise. Ah, the beauty of God's creation is
beyond description. As I watched, I praised God for His
beautiful work. As I sat there, I felt the Lord's
presence with me. He asked me, "Do you love Me?" I answered, "Of course, God! You are
my Lord and Savoir!" Then He asked, "If
you were physically handicapped, would you still love Me?" I was perplexed. I looked down upon my
arms, legs and the rest of my body and wondered how many things I wouldn't;
be able to do, the things that I took for granted. And I answered, "It would be tough
Lord, but I would still love You." Then the Lord said, "If you were
blind, would you still love My creation?" How could I love something without being
able to see it? Then I thought of all the blind people in the world and how many of them still loved God and His creation. So I answered,
"Its hard to think of it, but I would still love You." The Lord then asked
me, "If you were
deaf, would you still listen to My Word?" How could I listen to anything being
deaf? Then I understood. Listening to God's
Word is not merely using our ears, but our hearts. I answered, "It would be tough, but
I would still listen to Your Word." The Lord then
asked, "If you were mute, would you still
praise My Name?" How could I praise without a voice? Then it occurred to me: God wants us to sing from our very heart
and soul. It never matters what we sound like. And
praising God is not always with a song, but when we are persecuted, we give
God praise with our words of thanks. So I answered, "Though I could not
physically sing, I would still praise Your Name. And the Lord asked,
"Do you really love Me?" With courage and a strong conviction, I
answered boldly, "Yes Lord! I love You because You are the One and True
God!" I thought I had answered well, but God asked, "THEN
WHY DO YOU SIN?" I answered, "Because I am only
human. I am not perfect." "THEN WHY IN TIMES OF PEACE DO YOU STRAY THE FURTHEST? WHY ONLY IN TIMES
OF TROUBLE DO YOU PRAY THE EARNEST?" Why seek Me only in times of worship? Why ask things so selfishly? Why ask things so
unfaithfully?" The tears continued to roll down my
cheeks. Why in times of
persecution, you cry to others when I offer My shoulder to cry on? Why make excuses
when I give you opportunities to serve in My Name?" blessed you with talents
to serve Me, but you continue to turn away. I have revealed My Word to you,
but you do not gain in knowledge. I have spoken to you but your ears were
closed. I have shown My blessings to you, but your eyes were turned away. I have sent you servants, but you sat idly by as they were pushed away. I have heard your
prayers and I have answered them all." excuse. What could I say to this? When my
heart had cried out and the tears had flowed, I said, "Please forgive
me Lord. I am unworthy to be Your child." The Lord answered, " That is My Grace, My child." I asked, "Then why do you
continue to forgive me? Why do You love me so?" The Lord answered, " Because you are My
creation. You are my child. I will never abandon you. When you cry, I will have compassion and cry with you. When you shout with joy, I will laugh with you.
When you are down, I will encourage you. When you fall, I will
raise you up. When you are tired, I will carry you. I will be with you
till the end of days, and I will love you forever." How could I have hurt God as I had done? I asked God, "How much do You love
me?" The Lord stretched out His arms, and I
saw His nail-pierced hands. I bowed down at the feet of Christ, my Savior. And for the first time, I truly prayed. A Little Girls Prayer One night I had worked hard to help a mother in the labor ward; but in spite of all we could do she died leaving us with a tiny premature baby and a crying two-year-old daughter. We would have difficulty keeping the baby alive, as we had no incubator (we had no electricity to run an incubator) and no special feeding facilities. Although we lived on the equator, nights were often chilly with treacherous drafts. One student midwife went for the box we had for such babies and the cotton wool the baby would be wrapped in. Another went to stoke up the fire and fill a hot water bottle. She came back shortly in distress to tell me that in filling the bottle, it had burst. Rubber perishes easily in tropical climates. "And it is our last hot water bottle!" she exclaimed. As in the West it is no good crying over spilled milk, so in Central Africa it might be considered no good crying over burst water bottles. They do not grow on trees, and there are no drugstores down forest pathways. "All right," I said, "Put the baby as near the fire as you safely can; sleep between the baby and the door to keep it free from drafts. Your job is to keep the baby warm." The following noon, as I did most days, I went to have prayers with any of the orphanage children who chose to gather with me. I gave the youngsters various suggestions of things to pray about and told them about the tiny baby. I explained our problem about keeping the baby warm enough, mentioning the hot water bottle. The baby could so easily die if it got chills. I also told them of the two-year-old sister, crying because her mother had died. During the prayer time, one ten-yea-old girl, Ruth, prayed with the usual blunt conciseness of our African children. "Please, God," she prayed, "send us a water bottle. It'll be no good tomorrow, God, as the baby'll be dead, so please send it this afternoon." While I gasped inwardly at the audacity of the prayer, she added by way of corollary, "And while You are about it, would You please send a dolly for the little girl so she'll know You really love her?" As often with children's prayers, I was put on the spot. Could I honestly say, "Amen"? I just did not believe that God could do this. Oh, yes, I know that He can do everything. The Bible says so. But there are limits, aren't there? The only way God could answer this particular prayer would be by sending me a parcel from the homeland. I had been in Africa for almost four years at that time, and I had never, ever received a parcel from home; anyway, if anyone did send me a parcel, who would put in a hot water bottle? I lived on the equator! Halfway through the afternoon, while I was teaching in the nurses' training school, a message was sent that there was a car at my front door. By the time I reached home, the car had gone, but there, on the verandah, was a large twenty-two pound parcel. I felt tears pricking my eyes. I could not open the parcel alone, so I sent for the orphanage children. Together we pulled off the string, carefully undoing each knot. We folded the paper, taking care not to tear it unduly. Excitement was mounting. Some thirty or forty pairs of eyes were focused on he large cardboard box. From the top, I lifted out brightly colored, knitted jerseys. Eyes sparkled as I gave them out. Then there were the knitted bandages for the leprosy patients, and the children looked a little oared. Then came a box of mixed raisins and sultanas---that would make a nice batch of buns for the weekend. Then, as I put my hand in again, I felt the... could it really be? I grasped it and pulled it out---yes, a brand-new, rubber hot water bottle! I cried. I had not asked God to send it; I had not truly believed that He could. Ruth was in the front row of the children. She rushed forward, crying out, "If God has sent the bottle, He must have sent the dolly, too!" Rummaging down to the bottom of the box, she pulled out the small, beautifully dressed dolly. Her eyes shone! She had never doubted. Looking up at me, she asked: "Can I go over with you, Mummy, and give this dolly to that little girl, so she'll know that Jesus really loves her?" That parcel had been on the way for five whole months. Packed up by my former Sunday school class, whose leader had heard and obeyed God's prompting to send a hot water bottle, even to the equator. And one of the girls had put in a dolly for an African child---five months before---in answer to the believing prayer of a ten-year-old to bring it "that afternoon." Before they call, I will answer! Isa 65:24 "Why do so many Christians pray such tiny prayers when their God is so big?" Watchman Nee THE HEART "Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began, "I'll open up your heart..." "You'll find Jesus there," the boy interrupted. The surgeon looked up, annoyed "I'll cut your heart open," he continued, to see how much damage has been done..." "But when you open up my heart, you'll find Jesus in there," said the boy. The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly. "When I see how much damage has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up, and I'll plan what to do next." "But you'll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart." The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart. I'll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I'll find out if I can make you well." "You'll find Jesus there too. He lives there." The surgeon left. The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery, "...damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis" here he paused, "death within one year." He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud. "Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and You've cursed him to an early death. Why?" The Lord answered and said, "The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine. His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow." The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in months. Why?" The Lord answered, "The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for He has Done his duty I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb." The surgeon wept. The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, "Did you cut open my heart?" "Yes," said the surgeon. "What did you find?" asked the boy. "I found Jesus there," said the surgeon. Author Unknown |
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