A Soldier's Night Before Christmas

TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.
I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE JUST WHO, IN THIS HOME DID LIVE.

I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE.
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE.
NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.

WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,
A SOBER THOUGHT CAME THROUGH MY MIND.
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.

THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE,
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN SUCH DISORDER,
NOT HOW I PICTURED A UNITED STATES SOLDIER.

WAS THIS THE HERO OF WHOM I’D JUST READ?
CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED?
I REALIZED THE FAMILIES THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,
OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.

SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,
AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.
THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,
BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS, LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.

I COULDN’T HELP WONDER HOW MANY LAY ALONE,
ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.
THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT A TEAR TO MY EYE,
I DROPPED TO MY KNEES AND STARTED TO CRY.

THE SOLDIER AWAKENED AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,
“SANTA DON’T CRY, THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;
I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM, I DON’T ASK FOR MORE,
MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS.”

THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,
I COULDN’T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP.
I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL
AND WE BOTH SHIVERED FROM THE COLD NIGHT’S CHILL.

I DIDN’T WANT TO LEAVE ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,
THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOR SO WILLING TO FIGHT.
THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,
WHISPERED, “CARRY ON SANTA, IT’S CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE.”

ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.
“MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT.”

Remember

Steel birds tore through the sky,

Carrying loved ones of you and I.

Twin towers standing tall,

Too strong, we thought, to ever fall.

Those birds of prey broke our hearts

As we watched our world fall apart.

Steel wings cut through flesh and bone

But could not destroy our soul.

More targets, more lives,

The toll still untold.

Overwhelming fear and heartache

Filled every home.

Remember those who were lost.

Fight for those memories at any cost.

Remember freedom as it rings loud.

Remember freedom and stand proud.

Sadness and confusion give way,

Keep faith in a new day.

We will find the nest from which those birds came,

Tear them down without shame.

Our hearts are filled to burst

With love for all those hurt.

Together as a nation, a world, we stand tall.

We will move past the horror we saw.

Remember those who were lost.

Fight for those memories at any cost.

Remember freedom as it rings loud.

Remember freedom and stand proud.

Something for Stevie

I try not to be biased, but I had my doubts about hiring Stevie. His placement counselor assured me that he would be a good, reliable busboy. But I had never had a mentally handicapped employee and wasn't sure I wanted one. I wasn't sure how my customers would react. Stevie was short, a little dumpy, with the smooth facial features and thick-tongued speech of Down syndrome.

I wasn't worried about most of my trucker customers. Truckers don't generally care who buses tables as long as the food is good and the pies are homemade. The ones who concerned me were the mouthy college kids traveling to school; the yuppie snobs who secretly polish their silverware with their napkins for fear of catching some dreaded "truckstop germ;" and the pairs of white-shirted business men on expense accounts who think every truckstop waitress wants to be flirted with. I knew those people would be uncomfortable around Stevie, so I closely watched him for the first few weeks.

I shouldn't have worried. After the first week, Stevie had my staff wrapped around his stubby little finger. Within a month my truck regulars had adopted him as their official truckstop mascot. After that I really didn't care what the rest of the customers thought. He was a 21-year-old in blue jeans and Nikes, eager to laugh and eager to please, but fierce in his attention to his duties. Every salt and pepper shaker was exactly in its place, not a bread crumb or coffee spill was visible when Stevie got done with the table.

Our only problem was convincing him to wait to clean a table until after the customers were finished. He would hover in the background, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, scanning the dining room until a table was empty. Then he would scurry to the empty table and carefully bus the dishes and glasses onto the cart and meticulously wipe the table with a practiced flourish of his rag. If he thought a customer was watching, his brow would pucker with added concentration. He took pride in doing his job exactly right, and you had to love how hard he tried to please each and every person he met.

Over time, we learned that he lived with his mother, a widow who was disabled after repeated surgeries for cancer. They lived on their Social Security benefits in public housing two miles from the truckstop. Their social worker, who stopped to check on him every so often, admitted they had fallen between the cracks. Money was tight, and what I paid him was probably the difference between them being able to live together and Stevie being sent to a group home.

That's why the restaurant was a gloomy place that morning last August, the first morning in three years that Stevie missed work. He was at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester getting a new valve or something put in his heart. His social worker said that people with Down syndrome often have heart problems at an early age, so this wasn't unexpected. There was a good chance he would come through the surgery in good shape and be back at work in a few months. A ripple of excitement ran through the staff later that morning when word came that he was out of surgery, in recovery and doing fine. Frannie, my head waitress, let out a war whoop and did a little dance the aisle when she heard the good news.

Belle Ringer, one of our regular trucker customers, grinned. "Okay, Frannie, what was that all about?" he asked. "We just got word that Stevie is out of surgery and going to be okay,” she responded. “I was wondering where he was," said Belle. Frannie quickly told him and the other two drivers sitting at his booth about Stevie's surgery, then sighed. "Yeah, I m glad he is going to be okay," she said, "but I don't know how he and his mom are going to handle all the bills. From what I hear, they're barely getting by as it is." Belle Ringer nodded thoughtfully, and Frannie hurried off to wait on the rest of her tables.

After the morning rush, Frannie walked into my office. She had a couple of paper napkins in her hand a funny look on her face. "What's up?" I asked. "That table where Belle Ringer and his friends were sitting," she said, "this was folded and tucked under a coffee cup." She handed the napkin to me, and three $20 bills fell onto my desk when I opened it. On the outside, in big, bold letters, was printed “Something For Stevie.”

"Pony Pete also asked me what that dance was all about," she said, "so I told him about Stevie and his mom and everything, and Pete looked at Tony and Tony looked at Pete, and they ended up giving me this." She handed me another paper napkin that had "Something For Stevie" scrawled on its outside. Two $50 bills were tucked within its folds. Frannie looked at me with wet, shiny eyes, shook her head and said simply, "Truckers."

That was three months ago. Today is Thanksgiving, the first day Stevie is supposed to be back to work. His placement worker said he's been counting the days until the doctor said he could work, and it didn't matter at all that it was a holiday. He called 10 times in the past week, making sure we knew he was coming, fearful that we had forgotten him or that his job was in jeopardy. I arranged to have his mother bring him to work. We met them in the parking lot and invited them both to celebrate his day back.

Stevie was thinner and paler, but couldn't stop grinning as he pushed through the doors and headed for the back room where his apron and busing cart were waiting. "Hold up there, Stevie, not so fast, "I said. I took him and his mother by their arms. "Work can wait for a minute. To celebrate you coming back, breakfast for you two is on me. I led them toward a large corner booth at the rear of the room. I could feel and hear the rest of the staff following behind as we marched through the dining room. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw booth after booth of grinning truckers empty and join the procession.

We stopped in front of the big table; its surface covered with a mess of coffee cups, saucers and dinner plates, all sitting crooked on dozens of folded paper napkins. "First thing you have to do, Stevie, is clean up this mess," I said, trying to sound stern. Stevie looked at me, and then at his mother, then pulled out one of the napkins. It had "Something for Stevie" printed on the outside. As he picked it up, two $10 bills fell onto the table. Stevie stared at the money, then at dozens of napkins peeking from beneath the tableware, each with his name printed or scrawled on it.

I turned to his mother. "There's over $10,000 in cash and checks on that table, all from truckers and trucking companies that heard about your problems. Happy Thanksgiving!" Well, it got real noisy about that time, with everybody hollering and shouting, and there were a few tears, too. But you know what's funny? While everybody else was busy shaking hands and hugging each other, Stevie, with a big, big smile on his face, was busy clearing all the cups and dishes from the table... best worker I ever hired.

by. Alice Gray

Volleyball Marathon

The cost of pretty much everything has gone up. That is all but gas. Due to the struggling economy, prices of pretty much everything have sky-rocketed; including fees for school. As a result of this, many Christian colleges are closing their doors in the next few months. This is a sad statement but is true.

Fairhaven Baptist College has not plans to close its doors and is relying on God to keep its doors open. But we would like to extend a request to you to support our college. Through our annual Volleyball Marathon in February, the students of Fairhaven Baptist College put in their part of keeping the tuition low. We would ask that you support us for this special week.

It goes like this, we play volleyball for about 100 hours during this week. Not all of us, the entire time. I would like to ask you to sponsor each of these 100 hours for a specific amount of money. For instance, if you sponsor each hour for $ .10, then you would sponsor for $10.00 total. We definitely accept any size donation. For any donation, we would like to say, "Thank you!" in advance.

It would be my privilege to have you sponsor me for this week. I just ask that you leave a comment for me, with your address that I may send more information to you regarding this fundraiser.


Note: This donation is tax deductible.

Forgive Me When I Whine!

Today upon a bus, I saw a lovely maid with golden hair; I envied her -- she seemed so gay, and how, I wished I were so fair; When suddenly she rose to leave, I saw her hobble down the aisle; she had one foot and wore a crutch, but as she passed, a smile. Oh God, forgive me when I whine, I have two feet -- the world is mine.

And when I stopped to buy some sweets, the lad who served me had such charm; he seemed to radiate good cheer, his manner was so kind and warm; I said, "It's nice to deal with you, such courtesy I seldom find"; he turned and said, "Oh, thank you sir." And then I saw that he was blind. Oh, God, forgive me when I whine, I have two eyes, the world is mine.

Then, when walking down the street, I saw a child with eyes of blue; he stood and watched the others play, it seemed he knew not what to do; I stopped a moment, then I said, "Why don't you join the others, dear?" He looked ahead without a word, and then I knew he could not hear. Oh God, forgive me when I whine, I have two ears, the world is mine.

With feet to take me where I'd go; with eyes to see the sunsets glow, with ears to hear what I would know. I am blessed indeed. The world is mine; oh, God, forgive me when I whine.

Mother left without her son!

This is beautiful!

She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: 'How is my little girl? Is she going to be all right? When can I see her?'

The surgeon said, 'I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your girl didn't make it.'

Sally said, 'Why do little children get cancer? Doesn't God care any more? Where were you, God, when my daughter needed you?'

The surgeon asked, 'Would you like some time alone with your daughter? One of the nurses will be out in a few minutes, before she's transported to the university.'

Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to daughter. She ran her fingers lovingly through her thick red curly hair. 'Would you like a lock of her hair?' the nurse asked. Sally nodded yes. The nurse cut a lock of the girl's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.

The mother said, 'It was Jenny's idea to donate her body to the University for Study. She said it might help somebody else. 'I said no at first, but Jenny said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little girl spend one more day with her Mom.' She went on, 'My Jenny had a heart of gold. Always thinking of someone else. Always wanting to help others if she could.'

Sally walked out of Children's Mercy Hospital for the last time, after spending most of the last six months there. She put the bag with Jenny's belongings on the seat beside her in the car.

The drive home was difficult. It was even harder to enter the empty house. She carried Jenny's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her daughter's room.

She started placing the dolls and other personal things back in her room exactly where she had always kept them. She lay down across her bed and, hugging her pillow, cried herself to sleep.

It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Lying beside her on the bed was a folded letter. The letter said:

'Dear Mom,

I know you're going to miss me; but don't think that I will ever forget you, or stop loving you, just 'cause I'm not around to say 'I Love You'. I will always love you, Mom, even more with each day.. Someday we will see each other again. Until then, if you want to adopt a little girl so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. She can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a boy instead, he probably wouldn't like the same things us girls do. You'll have to buy him model cars and stuff boys like, you know.

Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and Grandpa met me as soon as I got here and showed me around some, but it will take a long time to see everything. The angels are so cool. I love to watch them fly. And, you know what? Jesus doesn't look like any of his pictures. Yet, when I saw Him, I knew it was Him. Jesus himself took me to see GOD! And guess what, Mom? I got to sit on God's knee and talk to Him, like I was somebody important. That's when I told Him that I wanted to write you a letter, to tell you good bye and everything. But I already knew that wasn't allowed. Well, you know what Mom? God handed me some paper and His own personal pen to write you this letter I think Gabriel is the name of the angel who is going to drop this letter off to you. God said for me to give you the answer to one of the questions you asked Him 'where was He when I needed him?' 'God said He was in the same place with me, as when His son Jesus was on the cross.. He was right there, as He always is with all His children.

Oh, by the way, Mom, no one else can see what I've written except you. To everyone else this is just a blank piece of paper. Isn't that cool? I have to give God His pen back now He needs it to write some more names in the Book of Life. Tonight I get to sit at the table with Jesus for supper. I'm sure the food will be great.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I don't hurt anymore the cancer is all gone.... I'm glad because I couldn't stand that pain anymore and God couldn't stand to see me hurt so much, either. That's when He sent The Angel of Mercy to come get me. The Angel said I was a Special Delivery! How about that?

Signed with Love from

God, Jesus & Me.

Thought of the Day

Your past may have defined who you were today, but don't let it define who you will be tomorrow.

Thought of the Day

" Life is always moving. Stand up and rise above the rest with passion in your arms and fire in your heart. Dare to dream, dream high, dream ahead...It is the game of winning!"

Thought of the day!

REMEMBERING THOSE WHO LOST THEIR LIVES

... and those they left behind

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love." --- Washington Irving

Great opportunity for all!

I have 4 extra tickets for the Robbie Knievel (son of Evil Knievel) event at the Home Depot Center ( Albany , Oregon ) this weekend if anybody wants them.

He's going to try to jump 5,000 Obama supporters with a bulldozer.

Should be a good time.

Let me know...

Thought of the day!

" Your endurance is worth all that you have to go through in order to get to your life destination. Don't quit now, your prize is awaiting you!"

Thought of the day!

If you are prepared, you will be confident, and you will do a good job.

Thought of the day!

Never explain yourself. Your friends don’t need it and your enemies won’t believe it.

Thought of the day!

" Effort only releases its reward when you refuse to quit."

Thought of the day!!!

" Keep moving forward, keep the momentum going, and know that soon you, too, will be looking back only to see how far you have come and how much you have changed."

Thought of the Day

" The small moon can eclipse the great sun. We too, can do great things if we set ourselves in the right place at the right time."

Thought of the Day

" TODAY IS THE DAY... Make your time useful and excel in something you have dreamed for."

Thought of the day!

Plan ahead -- It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark.

Friends

Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people become friends and stay a while ... leaving beautiful footprints on our hearts ... and we are never quite the same because we have made a good friend!!

I Hereby Resign

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old again.

I want to go to McDonald's and think that it's a four star restaurant.

I want to sail sticks across a fresh mud puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.

I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my friends on a hot summer's day.

I want to return to a time when life was simple; when all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes, but that didn't bother you, because you didn't know what you didn't know and you didn't care.

All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.

I want to think the world is fair. That everyone is honest and good.

I want to believe that anything is possible. I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want to live simple again. I don't want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.

I want to believe in the power of miles, hugs, a kind word, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.

So ... here's my checkbook and my car keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements. I am officially resigning from adulthood.

And if you want to discuss this further, you'll have to catch me first, cause ... "Tag! You're it."

Bank Account

She is a 92 years old, petite, well-poised, and proud lady. She is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coifed, and her makeup perfectly applied, in spite of the fact she is legally blind. Today she has moved to a nursing home. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making this move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, where I am employed, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet curtains that had been hung on her window.

"I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an having just been presented with a new puppy.

"Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room ... just wait," I said. Then she spoke these words that I will never forget.

"That does not have anything to do with it," she gently replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not does not depend on how the furniture is arranged. It is how I arrange my mind. I have already decided to love it.

It is a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice. I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or I can get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do work.

Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I will focus on the new day and all of the happy memories I have stored away just for this time in my life. Life is like a bank account. You withdraw from it what you have already put in."

"Hit the floor!"

This is supposedly a true story ...

On a recent weekend in Atlantic City, a woman won a bucketful of quarters at a slot machine. She took a break from the slots for dinner with her husband in the hotel dining room. But first she wanted to stash the quarters in her room. "I'll be right back and we'll go to eat," she told her husband and carried the coin-laden bucket to the elevator. As she was about to walk into the elevator she noticed two men already on board.

Both were black. One of them was tall ... very tall ... an intimidating figure. The woman froze. Her first thought was: These two are going to rob me. Her next thought was: Don't be a bigot, they look like perfectly nice gentlemen. But racial stereotypes are powerful, and fear immobilized her.

She stood and stared at the two men. She felt anxious, flustered and ashamed. She hoped they didn't read her mind, but Gosh, they had to know what she was thinking!!! Her hesitation about joining them in the elevator was all too obvious now. Her face was flushed.

She couldn't just stand there, so with a mighty effort of will she picked up one foot and stepped forward and followed with the other foot and was on the elevator. Avoiding eye contact, she turned around stiffly and faced the elevator doors as they closed. A second passed, and the another second, and then another. Her fear increased! The elevator didn't move. Panic consumed her.

My God, she thought, I'm trapped and about to be robbed! Her heart plummeted. Perspiration poured from every pore. Then one of the men said, "Hit the floor." Instinct told her to do what they told her. The bucket of quarters flew upwards as she threw out her arms and collapsed on the elevator floor. A shower of coins rained down on her. Take my money and spare me, she prayed.

More seconds passed. She heard one of the men say politely, "Ma'am, if you'll just tell us what floor you're going to, we'll push the button." The one who said it had a little trouble getting the words out. He was trying mightily to hold in a belly laugh. The woman lifted her head and looked up at the two men. They reached down to help her up.

Confused, she struggled to her feet. "When I told my friend here to hit the floor," said the average sized one, "I meant that he should hit the elevator button for our floor. I didn't mean for you to hit the floor, ma'am." He spoke genially. He bit his lip. It was obvious he was having a hard time not laughing.

The woman thought: My God, what a spectacle I've made of myself. She was humiliated to speak. She wanted to blurt out an apology, but words failed her. How do you apologize to two perfectly respectable gentlemen for behaving as though they were going to rob you? She didn't know what to say. The three of them gathered up the strewn quarters and refilled her bucket.
When the elevator arrived at her floor, they then insisted on walking her to her room. She seemed a little unsteady on her feet, and they were afraid she might not make it down the corridor. At her door they bid her a good evening. As she slipped into her room she could hear them roaring with laughter as they walked back to the elevator. The woman brushed herself off. She pulled herself together and went downstairs for dinner with her husband.

The next morning flowers were delivered to her room - a dozen roses. Attached to EACH rose was a crisp one hundred dollar bill. The card said: "Thanks for the best laugh we've had in years."

It was signed ...
Eddie Murphy and Michael Jordan

The Speeder

If this doesn't get you to slow down, nothing will!

Jack took a long look at his speedometer before slowing down: 73 in a 55 zone. Fourth time in as many months. How could a guy get caught so often? When his car had slowed to 10 miles an hour, Jack pulled over, but only partially. Let the cop worry about the potential traffic hazard. Maybe some other car will tweak his backside with a mirror. The cop was stepping out of his car, the big pad in hand. Bob? Bob from Church? Jack sunk farther into his trench coat. This was worse than the coming ticket. A cop catching a guy from his own church. A guy who happened to be a little eager to get home after a long day at the office. A guy he was about to play golf with tomorrow.

Jumping out of the car, he approached a man he saw every Sunday, a man he'd never seen in uniform. "Hi, Bob. Fancy meeting you like this."

"Hello, Jack." No smile.

"Guess you caught me red-handed in a rush to see my wife and kids."

"Yeah, I guess." Bob seemed uncertain. Good. "I've seen some long days at the office lately. I'm afraid I bent the rules a bit ... just this once." Jack toed at a pebble on the pavement. "Diane said something about roast beef and potatoes tonight. Know what I mean?"

"I know what you mean. I also know that you have a reputation in our precinct." Ouch. This was not going in the right direction. Time to change tactics.

"What'd you clock me at?"

"Seventy. Would you sit back in your car please?"

"Now wait a minute here, Bob. I checked as soon as I saw you. I was barely nudging 65." The lie seemed to come easier with every ticket.

"Please, Jack, in the car."

Flustered, Jack hunched himself through the still-open door. Slamming it shut, he stared at the dashboard. He was in no rush to open the window. The minutes ticked by. Bob scribbled away on the pad. Why hadn't he asked for a driver's license? Whatever the reason, it would be a month of Sundays before Jack ever sat near this cop again. A tap on the door jerked his head to the left. There was Bob, a folded paper in hand. Jack rolled down the window a mere two inches, just enough room for Bob to pass him the slip.

"Thanks." Jack could not quite keep the sneer out of his voice.

Bob returned to his police car without a word. Jack watched his retreat in the mirror. Jack unfolded the sheet of paper. How much was this one going to cost? Wait a minute. What was this? Some kind of joke? Certainly not a ticket. Jack began to read:

"Dear Jack,

Once upon a time I had a daughter. She was six when killed by a car. You guessed it ... a speeding driver. A fine and three months in jail, and the man was free. Free to hug his daughters. All three of them. I only had one, and I'm going to have to wait until Heaven before I can ever hug her again. A thousand times I've tried to forgive that man. A thousand times I thought I had. Maybe I did, but I need to do it again. Even now. Pray for me. And be careful, Jack, my son is all I have left."

"Bob"

Jack turned around in time to see Bob's car pull away and head down the road. Jack watched until it disappeared. A full 15 minutes later, he too, pulled away and drove slowly home, praying for forgiveness and hugging a surprised wife and kids when he arrived.

'MEET ME IN THE STAIRWELL'

You say you will never forget where you were when

you heard the news On September 11, 2001.

Neither will I.

I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room

with a man who call ed his wife to say 'Good-Bye.' I

held his fingers steady as he dialed. I gave him the

peace to say, 'Honey, I am not going to make it, but it

is OK..I am ready to go.'

I was with his wife when he called as she fed

breakfast to their children. I held her up as she

tried to understand his words and as she realized

he wasn't coming home that night.

I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a

woman cried out to Me for help. 'I have been

knocking on the door of your heart for 50 years!' I said.

'Of course I will show you the way home - only

believe in Me now.'

I was at the base of the building with the Priest

ministering to the injured and devastated souls.

I took him home to tend to his Flock in Heaven. He

heard my voice and answered.

I was on all four of those planes, in every seat,

with every prayer. I was with the crew as they

were overtaken. I was in the very hearts of the

believers there, comforting and assuring them that their

faith has saved them.

I was in Texas , Virginia , California , Michigan , Afghanistan .

I was standing next to you when you heard the terrible news.

Did you sense Me?

I want you to know that I saw every face. I knew

every name - though not all know Me. Some met Me f

or the first time on the 86th floor.

Some sought Me with their last breath.

Some couldn't hear Me calling to them through the

smoke and flames; 'Come to Me... this way... take

my hand.' Some chose, for the final time, to ignore Me.

But, I was there.

I did not place you in the Tower that day. You

may not know why, but I do. However, if you were

there in that explosive moment in time, would you have

reached for Me?

Sept. 11, 2001, was not the end of the journey

for you . But someday your journey will end. And I

will be there for you as well. Seek Me now while I may

be found. Then, at any moment, you know you are

ready to go.'

I will be in the stairwell of your final moments.

God

It's School

It's school time, Do you expect me to keep up with my blog? I will try my hardest but I have a hard time when I am not in school.

Peace

Sometimes God calms the storm

Othertimes God calms his child

And lets the storm rage.

Canada 6/12/08 a.m.

Everything is going good. I do apologize for not writing yesterday. Not much happened on Tuesday, that is why. I worked in the print shop for part of the morning both Tuesday and Wednesday. I think almost all the work is done. That is the electrical and air conditioning work. There is always something to do at the print shop. Tuesday, I actually got to bind some of the Reformers Unanimous work books. That was quite fun. It was also quite boring, doing the same motion for some two or three hours. You find many different ways to do those motions. I guess that is what a factory job is.

We went downtown London on Tuesday. It began to rain shortly after we got there. I got to talk to one man before the rain came. He was about my age and he was getting his GED. He had dropped out of high school and left home due to some problems there in the home. He was looking for the truth though. I wish that I had more time to talk with him about the plan of salvation but he had to run off to class. He did leave the door open for a return visit in his house. He gave his address and phone number so that we may call before arriving at his place. He did not want us to drive there and not have him home. We left rather early from downtown due to the rain, but once we arrived back at Pastor's house and had lunch, the rain had discontinued. We then went knocking on doors. We did three sets of town houses that were all close by each other. I talked to one young teenager for a while and got to go through the entire story of the crucifixion with him. He said that we can come back as long as his mother is okay with it. That may be the challenge. Sadly, though, I was talking again to a teenager about the Gospel when his father came up and took the flyer from his hand and then slammed the door shut. Oh! how he will reap what he has sown. We got to talking after that of how these parents, especially fathers will pay for not letting their children hear the truth. Let alone the fact that they are the ones that should be teaching their children the truth. What else can you do for those children when their parents close the door. It is strictly the devil working.

The services have been great as well. As I have said, the majority of them were to Christians. They were about giving ourselves totally to God. That is what we lack so much is to be totally sold out to God with no reserve at all. Both Tuesday and Wednesday, we had visitors. An answer to prayer is that a lady named Nicole and her son came out. They were contacted last Saturday I believe by Mr. Stewart in our soul-winning. That shows the direct fruit from our door knocking. Continue to pray with us as we go out one last day, knocking on doors. God says, "You reap what you sow." We are here to be a blessing to this church so if God sends the harvest after we leave, that is okay. We would like to see it now but sometimes God has better times to send the fruit.

Canada 6/10/08 a.m.

We did have a great evening at church. Bro. Stewart preached a tremendous message on having a walk with God. He used the example of Enoch and how that he walked with God because of his family and because of his future. Those were the motivation for his private walk and the message concluded by saying that our private walk with God is evident in our public life. Enoch had preached against the wickedness of the world and that the world needed to repent before the coming judgment.(Jude 14) It is as though the Lord knows that we must be cleansed before he does a work in our midst. We are on the brink of a pouring out of God's blessing. We were talking about the 120 in the upper room in Acts 1. If they all waited and prayed for ten days then that means that they waited and prayed for 28,800 hours. We can say about 28,000 taking off sleep and eating time. If you take the 3,000 that were saved immediately following that on Pentecost and divided it into the amount of hours they prayed, then they spent approx. 9.3 hours praying for each soul. If that was the case back then, how much more must we pray and work for one soul today. Possibly the Lord seems fit to send the outburst of souls, after we are gone. We would like to see it while we are here but if it does not come now, the Bible says, "You reap what you sow!" Harvest time will come. After all, it is for his glory and not our own.

On visitation, I went to the first house and had a great talk with a lady who said she was searching. She has had some Jehovah's witnesses coming over to her house, but was open to the gospel, yesterday. She was willing to have someone from Bethel come back and work with her. I feel that it is important to talk to her immediately, as the devil will use the JW's to try and win her over to them. Please pray that she does except Christ. Another lady that I came across shortly thereafter, said that she had studied religion on her own but had never really come to a conclusion. She said that someone could come by but they would have to talk to her husband who was in the same boat as her, no religion. It is an open door. Please pray for that couple as well.

Yesterday morning, we went to the print shop. I finished up some more of the electrical work which took all morning. Bro. Kevin says that we are almost done moving things around and changing wires and all but it seems as if the list could go on forever. As for the weather, it was another scorcher yesterday. I have not been outside this morning yet. When I got home last night, it began to rain and pour. We had ourselves a good old-fashioned thunderstorm. This morning, I woke up to go run and it was pouring again. I do not think that it went all through the night but you never know. Indiana is under water. What would make us any different. Prayerfully, the weather ha cooled down as we plan to go back to the downtown of London. We plan to go around the noon hour so that we may be able to reach the business people with the gospel as they go out to lunch.

Canada 6/8/08 a.m.

Nothing great happened in the visitation today for me. Most of the people were not home. It is custom, I guess for Canadians to be out on Saturday morning. There were a few city wide yard sales today and many smaller ones as well. The people that were home were not very hospitable to the visitors to their country. A few cussed me out, and others were just plan rude. Don't they know that I am a visitor. No, not really, they just don't want to here about Jesus Christ which is quite sad. Tony met a Palestinian lady today. She was actually born in Bethelehem and moved over here just a few years ago. There are so many muslims in this area. The majority of the people here are just that. This lady seemed to be one of them, but she was anti-muslim. She said that the muslims in the North America are here because they have been forced out of their countries because they have committed something foolish against their religon or country. That was something interesting that they said. Well, she had a testimony of salvation, but they were not completely sold on that testimony. She did come Sunday morning and said that she will continue as long as she can get a ride. That was a blessing.

After visitation today we went over to Sarah's house with her family and some of the other youngins in the church. We played three games of voleyball and then played hockey for two hours. Those girls put us to shame. Bethany and Melissa are good at hockey. I stayed at the corner by the goal because there is a pride thing in the fact of getting body checked by one of those girls. I think you know what I mean. We lost the first game, but that was a warm up. The second game we won 6-4. That was the only one that counted. After taking some criticism from David and Sarah Unger on how to play, we did have a great time. I tried to ask myself how we could play hockey for two hours, and the only answer that I could come up with was that we were with a bunch of Canadians. Wow! We were exhausted so what did we do? We went and sat around a campfire for a while. We had hot dogs, chips, cherries, cookies, and much more. It was good except for when the dog ate Tony's cookies and drank my milk for the cookies. Well, Saturday was more of a day to relax. We had a great time. These people here are so caring for the work of the Lord. It is always a blessing to see that there are other churches other than Fairhaven that desire to see the work of the Lord furthered with a true earnestness. Oh, that we can see more churches with the same yearning to see souls saved.

Canada 6/7/08 a.m.

It is amazing to see God take someone from the world and transform them into something totally different. Of course, he has done that with all of us but sometimes it seems to be much more drastic of a change. There was a Chinese couple that lives at the university housing and has been coming to church for a while. They are not saved but when they heard that we were going to there housing, they asked if they could go door knocking with us. They went with Pastor Unger and being Chinese it concluded to having good contacts. They are not saved though. Pastor Unger said that it takes an average of about six to eight months to see a Chinese person get saved because they are taught that there is no God while they are growing up. They are taught to be an atheist. We are praying that they will be able to come out next week and hear the Gospel and get saved.

I wanted to tell you a couple of the experiences that I had yesterday. I was able to talk to a young teenage boy for a while. I went through the Gospel a little with him. He had just gotten home from school so he was antsy to go but he said he would love for someone to come back by and talk with him about salvation. On a sadder note, I was talking to a soft teenage boy. He had the most open heart that I have ever seen. I felt as though the Holy Spirit was leading the conversation. About five minutes into the conversation, the boys dad came up and asked what this was. He snatched the flyer from the boy's hand and said, "Were not interested in that." He then slammed the door shut. I was so shocked. I felt so bad for that boy. He will have to live with that thought for the rest of his life. Lastly, I did get to go downtown London last night and was able to talk to a man from Sudan. He was in London for two weeks on break from school in Toronto. He had a clear plan of salvation. I could tell that he was saved. He said that he had not done a good job in it but believed in practical Christianity. As far as living a life that shows your Christianity. I asked if he would take some of my tracts and pass them out. He said, "Just give me a few of them because I have not been good at it and I don't want to waste your paper. I will pass these out though." He took four of them and promised to pass them out. It was a good visit with him right on the sidewalk.

Well, today we are going out for a little bit this morning and then going out again after lunch. This afternoon will be a bit relaxed and then we will be going to Sarah's house at about 5:00 tonight. I am looking forward to it. We are supposed to have a bonfire but I don't know if it is too hot or not to have one. Then we are to play hockey or volleyball or both. I don't know if I am ready to be put to shame by some of these girls.

Canada 6/6/08 a.m.

We definitely are having a great time up here. Time seems to fly by so quickly. I cannot believe that it is already Friday. Yesterday, was same as usual. We went to the print shop at about 8:00 and did some work there. We cleaned out a room full of leftover shelves and other things, then put a shelf up on the wall and lastly began running conduit for electrical wires. I did not get it all done so I asked if Mike S. would be able to come in today and help me finish it. We also went over to the church in the morning and picked up (not literally pick up but rather put in a trailer and truck) a copier and a shrink wrap machine to bring back over to the shop. They are about two miles away from each other so it is not too bad.

After lunch, we went back out to our normal areas to knock on doors. I talked to one fella originally from Jerusalem. He pretty much wanted to argue about why Christians in general have so many different versions of the Bible and how anyone is qualified to translate it. I think that he just wanted to argue. Then I came across this one lady who says she is looking for a church and knew of Bethel Baptist. She said that she will most likely come out next week. She was a nice lady. Invited me in and gave me a glass of water. I was kind of nervous going in because we visit here by ourselves. I just stood in the doorway and she gave me a glass of ice water. Very nice lady. I am praying that she comes out next week.

After dinner last night, we all went over to Western Ontario University and knocked on doors in the university housing. There were so many ethnic groups and it caused quite the language barrier, but we did have quite a few good responses. Pastor Unger met a couple in the complex that he has been working with and they are from China. They are not saved but had asked him if they could go with him when he visited those houses. They went and it opened many doors for their team because they could speak Mandarin Chinese. They should have a good group coming from their apartments next week. Praise the Lord, eh!

Canada 6/5/08 a.m.

The service was great last night. Tony preached on being a watchman for the Lord from Ezekiel 32 or 33. I don't remember exactly. What is neat about that is that was the same sermon that I was thinking about preaching before Mr. Stewart decided that they were going to preach. It was obviously what God wanted preached. After they were told that they were preaching, i started looking at a different sermon so obviously it was God's will for that sermon to be preached. Mike preached on having our house in order for the return of the Lord. They were both tremendous blessings and encouragements and challenges to me.

Well, today I am going to help Bro. Kevin, Sarah's dad, do some electrical work over at the print shop. The other guys will be working on a book that we are going to put out for new Christians by Andrew Murray. What we are all doing is taking about 5 chapters and making questions from the lessons that we can put at the end of each lesson for the reader to answer. That way they are accounted somewhat for what they read. I did my chapters yesterday while Tony and Mike studied for their sermons, so, Bro. Kevin asked if I could do any handiman work and help him today. Any ways, after that we will be going to the university housing about 20 minutes away an will be passing out tracts there. I look forward to it.

We are all looking forward to going to Sarah's house on Saturday where we will have a bon-fire and then play hockey and capture the flag. That will be fun. The hockey is for Tony. The school was playing Monday when we got to church and Tony wanted to play with them but it was time for lunch so they said that they would get us playing sometime.

Canada 6/3/08 p.m.

We had a great time today. We just got back from the print shop. I went visiting with Elsa's brother tonight. He is so funny and I think that he had a good time. At least I enjoyed being with him. After visitation tonight, we went back over there to do a few last things. The weather is similar to Indiana. It is humid and has actually been raining tonight rather hard, too. We finished visitation a little bit early due to the rain. Tomorrow, we will be all working on a booklet for new Christians that they would like to print. They want us to read the lessons and make about 10 to 15 questions for each lesson to put at the end of the lesson. We will then go out door knocking until the service tomorrow night. Mike Simmons and Tony Young are preaching tomorrow night, so it should be a good service. I am looking forward to it.

I wanted to tell you about a little girl that I saw tonight. I thought you might like this story. She came running up close to the little apartment that I was standing at and stopped by a flower garden. I followed her gaze down to the ground and noticed a bird that had died there on the ground. Being the little child that she was, i thought it was just some bird. As her friends came running up she pointed at the bird. Then she looked at me and sadly said, "I was taking care of that bird." She almost started crying. It was just some bird that she caught and had been feeding it. It got loose and then ended up dying. I asked if she had named it and she said, "No!" Then she quietly turned and walked away with her head down. I felt so bad for her. I got to talk to her dad though for a little while about salvation though. He said that he would like someone to come by later to talk to him but he was moving and did not know where to.

Canada 6/3/08 a.m.

Yes, we did have a safe trip to Canada. We stopped to pick up Dustin near his home in Lansing. Bro. Stewart, Christopher, Elsa, Dustin and myself all rode together in Bro. Stewart's van. Tony Young and Mike Simmons drove together in Mike's car. There was no problem crossing the border for our vehicle but Tony did not have his birth certificate so they gave them a little bit of a hassle but after a letter was sent by Pastor Unger, they let them go through. Once we got to the church, about two o' clock, we ate lunch at Pastor's house. Then we had a prayer meeting and put together a few brochures that we are passing out this week. Then we went and viewed the print shop and my what a place they have there. They have quite the setup with printers and copiers. Then we ate again. Lasagna for dinner at about five o' clock. Last night we had a good group of people go out knocking on doors with us. It was a blessing. We got a lot accomplished. The main purpose of our canvassing is just to invite the people to the services but a few people had good contacts and visits with some people. I had one descent visit with a teen age boy. He was quite nice but said that he was busy. There are a lot of people from India and muslims as well. We are staying with a family right on the block that we have been and will be canvassing all week. They are a sweet couple. Elsa and her brother and dad came over last night after visitation for a little bit. He is ten yrs. old. Anyways, the couple came over from Jamaica about twenty five years ago or so. They have a great testimony of how they found the church as well that I will have to tell you sometime.

Today, we are going to go over and work in the print shop for a few hours. They are moving all their boxes and things into another unit for storage so we are going to help them. This afternoon after lunch, we will be going out door knocking again.

We had a tremendous day yesterday on the visitation trail. There was a lot of houses where no one was home. At least they are able to see the tract and brochure. I did get to talk to another fellow from Jamaica for a little bit. He was interested until I asked if I could show him some Scripture. I talked with a man originally from South Africa. He moved here so many years ago. He was a Muslim so I told him the story of how Nicodemus came to Jesus by night because he was unsure of what his friends would think of him if they saw him. The man listened intently. Muslims are not the group that you can win in one day's visit. It will take time. I talked with one other lady who had been to Bethel Baptist of Simco. I don't know where that is but it is the church that Pastor Unger had been at originally before moving here to London. I am going to try to find that house again today. Pray that I can.

Beauty Aids

A dear old lady
Was asked what she asked
Used to make her complexion
So beautiful and her whole being
So bright and attractive.
She answered in short:

“I use for my lips, truth;
I use for my voice, kindness;
I use for my eyes, compassion;
I use for my hands, charity;
I use for my figure, uprightness;
I use for my heart, love;
I use for any who do not like me, prayer.”

Try this make-up and see what it will do for you.
I think this would help all of us as Christians to be more Christ-like.
True beauty does indeed come from the heart.

Am I A Fireman Yet??

In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness,she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up & fullfill all his dreams.
Now that was no longer possible. The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true. She took her son's hand and asked, 'Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?'

Mommy, 'I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.' Mom smiled back and said, 'Let's see if we can make your wish come true.' Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big As Phoenix .
She explained her son's final wish and Asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year old son a ride around the block on a fire engine. Fireman Bob said, 'Look, we can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day.

He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slickers like we wear and rubber boots.

They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast.' Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck . Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedics' van, and even the fire chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible. One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.

The chief replied, 'We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system, that there is not a fire? It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room? About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy's third floor open window-------- 16 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into Billy's room. With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the Fire Chief and said, Chief, am I really a fireman now?' 'Billy, you are, and the Head Chief, Jesus, is holding your hand,' the Chief said. With those words, Billy smiled and said, 'I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing..' He closed his eyes one last time.

Just Another Soldier

I stand on a Pedestal you put me here.

You don't know me not even my name.

You call me a hero. I'm no better than the rest.

Many came before me and now lay to rest.

I wear a flag on my arm and my name on my chest.

I'm just another soldier.

I lay my life on the line for my country and this land.

I'm way across the desert fighting in the sand.

My brothers falling around me going home in flag draped box.

Yet I'm still standing solid as a rock.

I will not quit because my brother is gone.

I took my oath I will carry on.

I'm just another soldier.

I know some can't be here though they wish they could be.

I'm here for you my neighbor because freedom don't come free.

Don't worry that you can't be here my true brother or my friends.

I'm fighting in your place.

If I fall down and die don't let them call me a disgrace.

I'm fighting for the politician who gave himself a raise

but won't put on a uniform and join me in this place.

I'm just another soldier.

I will stay till my mission is done or until the war is won.

My family of brothers we will all come home.

For the ones who came before us and those yet to come.

We all volunteered, knew the cost,

and that not every battle would be won.

None is better than the rest.

We just do what we were trained to do.

Some will die and some will come home.

Remember we're all brothers and soldiers to the end.

I'm just another soldier.

The ones that died around me.

They are the heroes that I see.

They gave there lives so others could be free.

Their families cry for them while mine waits for me.

So please don't call me hero.

I'm no better than the rest.

When I die they will bury me in a flagged draped box just like the rest.

Please just don't forget to pin my medals on my chest.

Because I'm just another soldier.

No better than the rest.

Copyright 2005, Bruce A. Harbison, All Rights Reserved
Bruce Harbison is currently deployed in Iraq

Red Shirt Fridays

Last week I was in Atlanta, Georgia attending a conference. While I was in the airport, returning home, I heard several people behind me beginning to clap and cheer. I immediately turned around and witnessed one of the greatest acts of patriotism I have ever seen.

Moving thru the terminal was a group of soldiers in their camos. As they began heading to their gate, everyone (well almost everyone) was abruptly to their feet with their hands waving and cheering.

When I saw the soldiers, probably 30-40 of them, being applauded and cheered for, it hit me. I'm not alone. I'm not the only red-blooded American who still loves this country and supports our troops and their families.

Of course I immediately stopped and began clapping for these young unsung heroes who are putting their lives on the line everyday fo r us so we can go to school, work and home without fear or reprisal.

Just when I thought I could not be more proud of my country or of our service men and women, a young girl, not more than 6 or 7 years old ran up to one of the male soldiers. He kneeled down and said 'hi.'

The little girl then asked him if he would give something to her daddy for her.

The young soldier, who didn't look any older than maybe 22 himself, said he would try and what did she want to give to her daddy. Then suddenly the little girl grabbed the neck of this soldier, gave him the biggest hug she could muster and then kissed him on the cheek.

The mother of the little girl, who said her daughter's name was Courtney, told the young soldier that her husband was a Marine and had been in Iraq for 11 months now. As the mom was explaining how much her daughter Courtney missed her father, the young soldier began to tear up.

When this temporarily single mom was done exp laining her situation, all of the soldiers huddled together for a brief second. Then one of the other servicemen pulled out a military-looking walkie-talkie. They started playing with the device and talking back and forth on it.

After about 10-15 seconds of this, the young soldier walked back over to Courtney, bent down and said this to her, 'I spoke to your daddy and he told me to give this to you.' He then hugged this little girl that he had just met and gave her a kiss on the cheek. He finished by saying 'your daddy told me to tell you that he loves you more than anything and he is coming home very soon.'

The mom at this point was crying almost uncontrollably and as the young soldier stood to his feet, he saluted Courtney and her mom. I was standing no more than 6 feet away from this entire event.

As the soldiers began to leave, heading towards their gate, people resumed their applause. As I stood there applauding and looked around, t here were very few dry eyes, including my own. That young soldier in one last act of selflessness turned around and blew a kiss to Courtney with a tear rolling down his cheek.

We need to remember everyday all of our soldiers and their families and thank God for them and their sacrifices. At the end of the day, it's good to be an American.

RED FRIDAYS ----- Very soon, you will see a great many people wearing Red every Friday. The reason? Americans who support our troops used to be called the 'silent majority'. We are no longer silent, and are voicing our love for God, country and home in record breaking numbers.

We are not organized, boisterous or over-bearing. We get no liberal media coverage on TV, to reflect our message or our opinions. Many Americans, like you, me and all our friends, simply want to recognize that the vast majority of America supports our troops.Our idea of showing solidarity and support for our troops with dignity and respect starts this Friday - and continues each and everyFriday until the troops all come home, sending a deafening message that...

Every red-blooded American who supports our men and women afar will wear something red. By word of mouth, press, TV -- let's make the United States on every Friday a sea of red much like a homecoming football game in the bleachers. If every one of us who loves this country will share this with acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and family. It will not be long before the USA is covered in RED and it will let our troops know the once 'silent' majority is on their side more than ever; certainly more than the media lets on.

The first thing a soldier says when asked 'What can we do to make things better for you?' is......We need your support and your prayers.

Let's get the word out and lead with class and dignity, by example; and wear something red every Friday.

There Is Hope

5 Million Teens Now Living On The Streets

Many Of Their Lives Are Ending In Cold Defeat

Can't You See Their Is A Cause

Won't You Please Help Us Rebuild The Walls

Our Youth Are Dying Thinking There's No Hope

They Try It All But They Still Can't Cope

They're Looking To Us Please Stand Don't Fall

The Lord Wants You To Help Rebuild The Wall

We Need To Sit Down To Weep And Mourn

And Pray Like Nehemiah, As His Heart Was Torn

And Beg For Mercy--Remember We're Called

To Share Jesus With The Youth--And Rebuild The Wall

Then We Can Rise Up And Show Them Christ

Let Them All Know He Paid Sins Price

The Lord's Coming Soon, Please Give Him Your All

One Youth At A Time--We Can Rebuild The Wall

--YOUNG PEOPLE-- THERE IS HOPE

Moonlight Ride

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.
For once in her life 'twas on the right side of town.
She unpacked her things with such great ease.
As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.

How wonderful it was to have her own room.
School would be starting, she'd have friends over soon.
There'd be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy
It's just the way she wanted her life to be.

On the first day of school, everything went great.
She made new friends and even got a date!
She thought, "I want to be popular and I'm going to be,
Because I just got a date with the star of the team!"

To be known in this school you had to have a clout,
And dating this guy would sure help her out.
There was only one problem stopping her fate.
Her parents had said she was too young to date.

"Well, I just won't tell them the entire truth.
They won't know the difference; what's there to lose?"
Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.
Her parents frowned but said, "All right."

Excited, she got ready for the big event
But as she rushed around like she had no sense,
She began to feel guilty about all the lies,
But what's a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride?

Well the pizza was good, and the party was great,
But the moonlight ride would have to wait.
For Jeff was half drunk by this time.
But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.

Then the room filled with smoke and Jeff took a puff.
Jenny couldn't believe he was smoking that stuff.
Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point
But only after he'd smoked another joint.

They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,
Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.
They finally made it to the point at last,
And Jeff started trying to make a pass.

A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all
(and by a pass, I don't mean playing football).
"Perhaps my parents were right....maybe I am too young.
Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb.

"With all of her might, she pushed Jeff away:
"Please take me home, I don't want to stay."
Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.
In a matter of seconds they were going too fast.

As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,
Jenny knew that her life was in danger.
She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,
But he just got faster as they neared the town.

"Just let me get home! I'll confess that I lied.
I really went out for a moonlight ride."
Then all of a sudden, she saw a big flash.
"Oh God, Please help us! We're going to crash!"

She doesn't remember the force of impact.
Just that everything all of a sudden went black.
She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,
And heard, "Call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!"

Voices she heard...a few words at best.
But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.
Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right,
And if the people in the other car were alive.

She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad."
You've been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad."
These voices echoed inside her head,
As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.

They said "Jenny, we've done all we can do.
But it looks as if we'll lose you too."
"But the people in the other car!?"
Jenny cried."We're sorry, Jenny, they also died."

Jenny prayed, "God, forgive me for what I've done
I only wanted to have just one night of fun."
"Tell those people's family, I've made their lives dim,
And wish I could return their families to them."

"Tell Mom and Dad I'm sorry I lied,
And that it's my fault so many have died.
Oh, nurse, won't you please tell them that for me?"
The nurse just stood there ~ she never agreed.

But took Jenny's hand with tears in her eyes
And a few moments later Jenny died.
A man asked the nurse, "Why didn't you do your best
To bid that girl her one last request?"

She looked at the man with eyes oh so sad.
"Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad.
"This story is sad and unpleasant but true,
So young people take heed, it could have been you."

If Only I Had!

A man was appointed to take care of a railroad drawbridge. By and by a friend came with his boat and said to the man, "Run off the bridge and I will get my boat through before the cars come." "I can not do it," said he; "my orders are strict." Soon another man, an intimate friend came and he over-persuaded him and he ran the bridge off; and just as it was balanced on the pier the whistle of the lightning train came screaming around the curve. The bridge tender saw the inevitable fate. What could he do but stand and gaze at the fearful and the fatal mistake of his life. Just as the lightning train came crashing over he bridge making the fatal plunge, that man was heard to cry out "If I only had!"-- and then his reason was dethroned.

He was taken to an asylum; and long, long years, it is said, before his death he paced the halls and rooms of that asylum wringing his hands and crying "If I only had! If I only had! If I only had! If I only had!" -- evidently meaning, "If I only had done as I knew I ought to do--kept the bridge closed-- all would have been well." I thought many a man will spend eternity crying, "If I only had! If I only had!" I wonder if I speak to one young man or old man or lady in this congregation who tonight by this Bible sees your soul, of immense worth, and will forever in despair crying, "If I only had! Oh! that memorable night when I heard Mr. Graves speak on the worth of the soul and I believed it, --If I only had given my heart to Jesus!" I wonder if I speak to one in this house tonight who will forever be crying out with the screams of the dammed, "If I only had! If I only had!"

If only we had spread the gospel more, that soul who died last night, may have died with Jesus in his heart. He wouldn't be in Hell right now.

A Teenager's View of Heaven

I hope that this essay will touch many folks lives!!

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. He later told his father, Bruce; "It's the best thing I ever wrote..." It also was the last. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. 'I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,' Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death.

Brian's Essay: The Room...

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read 'Girls I have liked.' I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named 'Friends' was next to one marked 'Friends I have betrayed.' The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird 'Books I Have Read,' 'Lies I Have Told,' 'Comfort I have Given,' 'Jokes I Have Laughed at .' Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: 'Things I've yelled at my brothers.' Others I couldn't laugh at: 'Things I Have Done in My Anger', 'Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.' I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked 'TV Shows I have watched', I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked 'Lustful Thoughts,' I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content..

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!' In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore 'People I Have Shared the Gospel With.' The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here.. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. 'No!' I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was 'No, no,' as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, 'It is finished.' I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

'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.'-John 3:16.

'I can do all things through Christ which strengthenth me.'-Phil. 4:13.