As I go about my housework
Let me see each job I do,
As a service for my King
And a way of loving You.

Let me wash away my judgments
Of others right or wrong,
As I wash up the dishes
Place within my heart a song.

As I clean up little fingerprints
And lots of muddy shoes,
May I remember how you cleaned the feet
Of the loved ones you did choose.

As I mend up torn pajamas
And sew a button on,
Show me where I need to mend a breech
That’s gone on far too long.

Let me tidy up my thoughts
As I tidy up the toys,
Let me sweep away my fears
Like the dirt from little boys.

May I be just as quick with my forgiveness
As I am with mop and broom,
Sweeping up the clutter
In my heart and living room.

May I rinse out pride and ego
As I rinse the bathtub out,
And while we are at it Lord
Let’s take care of anger, hate and doubt.

Please remind me often Lord
That the way I’m called to serve,
Is an honor given me
And not below what I deserve.

You know Lord, as I look
At all the work we need to do,
I think we’d better house clean
At least each day or two.

- Author Unknown

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The sight is so spectacular,
Please wipe away the 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 sent you each a special gift,
From my heavenly home above,
I sent you each a memory
Of my undying love.

After all, love is a precious 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 blessings
Or love he has for each of you.

So have a Merry Christmas
And wipe away the tear
Remember I’m spending Christmas
With Jesus Christ this year.

About the author
‘My first Christmas in heaven’ was written by Ben, who died on Dec 14, 1997 at the age of 13 after a 4 year battle with a brain tumor. He wrote this and gave it to his mom before his death.

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Some people never seem motivated to participate, but
are just content to watch while others do the work.

They are called “Spec Taters”.

Some people never do anything to help, but are gifted
at finding fault with the way others do the work.

They are called “Comment Taters”.

Some people are very bossy and like to tell others what
to do, but don’t want to soil their own hands.

They are called “Dick Taters”.

Some people are always looking to cause problems by
asking others to agree with them. It is too hot or
too cold, too sour or too sweet.

They  are called “Agie Taters”.

There are those who say they will help, but somehow
just never get around to actually doing the promised help.

They are called “Hezzie Taters”.

Some people can put up a front and pretend to be
someone they are not.

They are called “Emma Taters”.

Then  there are those who love others and do what they
say they will. They are always prepared to stop whatever
they are doing and lend a helping hand. They bring real
sunshine into the lives of others.

They are called “Sweet  Taters”.

If you know any “Sweet Taters” send this to them!!

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Tuesday – Ironing Day: Dear Lord, help me to iron out all the wrinkles of prejudice I have collected through the years so that I may see the beauty in others.

Wednesday – Mending Day: O God, help me to mend my ways so I will not set bad example for others.

Thursday – Cleaning Day: Lord Jesus, help me to dust out all the many faults I have been hiding in the secret corners of my heart.

Friday – Shopping Day: O God, give me the grace to shop wisely so I may purchase eternal happiness for myself and all others in need of love.

Saturday – Cooking Day: Help me, my Savior, to brew a big kettle of brotherly love and serve it with clean, sweet bread of human kindness.

Sunday – The Lord’s Day: O God, I have prepared my house for you. Please come into my heart as my honored guest

- Author unknown

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Think back (for some of you this will take longer than others) to when you met that man/woman that you just knew would be the one. Remember when you realized/admitted to yourself that you loved him/her.

Now remember how much you wanted to act like you were in a movie, and yell to everyone in the football stadium “I love (fill in the name)!!!!” You told family and friends how perfect he was. You told your boys how she was just what you were looking for.

Well, I told THE LORD I loved Him today. And He said to me, “How much do you love me? You haven’t told anyone how good I’ve been to you. You haven’t shared how perfect my love is. You haven’t spread the good news that I am always there to listen to your problems. You haven’t told your family how I helped you pay your bills when you didn’t have a high paying job, or how I got you a better one. You didn’t tell your boys how I took away that addiction that would have cost you not only your job, but that woman that was just what you were looking for. So how much do you really love me?

So, I said I would share with my friends and family (for starters) just how wonderful, perfect, understanding, patient, loving, unselfish, considerate and forgiving GOD really is. He has blessed me with a family that loves me and friends that I can confide in.

But even more than that He has saved me from a destruction I couldn’t even see coming. He gave to me the peace of knowing Him and He has never broken a promise. Truly He is the best thing that has ever happened to me. And I stand in my stadium today to yell to you all “I love THE LORD!!!”

- Author unknown

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Each night, without exception, as the actor began his recitation “The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want”… the crowd would listen attentively. And then, at the conclusion of the psalm, they would rise in thunderous applause in appreciation of the actor’s incredible ability to bring the verse to life.

But one night, just before the actor was to offer his customary recital of Psalm 23, a young man from the audience spoke up. “Sir, do you mind if tonight I recite Psalm 23″?

The actor was quite taken aback by this unusual request, but he allowed the young man to come forward and stand front and center on the stage to recite the Psalm, knowing that the ability of this unskilled youth would be no match for his own talent.

With a soft voice, the young man began to recite the words of the Psalm. When he was finished, there was no applause. There was no standing ovation as on other nights. All that could be heard was the sound of weeping. The audience had been so moved by the young man’s recitation that every eye was full of tears.

Amazed by what he had heard, the actor said to the youth, “I don’t understand. I have been performing Psalm 23 for years. I have a lifetime of experience and training-but I have never been able to move an audience as you have tonight. Tell me, what is your secret?”

The young man quietly replied, “Well sir, you know the Psalm. I know the Shepherd.”

- Author unknown

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Before I was a Mom – I slept as late as I wanted and never worried about how late I got into bed. I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

Before I was a Mom – I didn’t worry whether or not my plants were poisonous. I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom – I had never been puked on, wet on, spit on, chewed on, or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a Mom – I had complete control over my thoughts, my body, my mind. I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom – I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests, or give shots. I never looked into teary eyes and cried. I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin. I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom – I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn’t want to put it down. I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I could not stop the hurt. I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much. I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom – I didn’t know the feeling of having my heart outside my body. I didn’t know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby. I didn’t know that bond between a Mother and her child. I didn’t know that something so small could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Mom – I had never gotten up every ten minutes, in the middle of the night, to make sure that all was okay. I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the wonderfulness, or the satisfaction of being a Mom. I didn’t know I was capable of feeling so much, before I was a Mom.

- Author unknown

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You don’t think much about it, but on Sunday, coming home from church, you hear another radio spot. Only they say it’s not three villagers, it’s 30,000 villagers in the back hills of this particular area of India, and it’s on TV that night. CNN runs a little blurb; people are heading there from the disease center in Atlanta because this disease strain has never been seen before.

By Monday morning when you get up, it’s the lead story. For it’s not just India; it’s Pakistan, Afghanistan, Iran, and before you know it, you’re hearing this story everywhere and they have coined it now as “the mystery flu”. The President has made some comment that he and everyone are praying and hoping that all will go well over there. But everyone is wondering, “How are we going to contain it?” That’s when the President of France makes an announcement that shocks Europe. He is closing their borders. No flights from India, Pakistan, or any of the countries where this thing has been seen.

That night you are watching a little bit of CNN before going to bed. Your jaw hits your chest when a weeping woman is translated from a French news program into English: “There’s a man lying in a hospital in Paris dying of the mystery flu. ” It has come to Europe. Panic strikes.

As best they can tell, once you get it, you have it for a week and you don’t know it. Then you have four days of unbelievable symptoms. Then you die. Britain closes it’s borders, but it’s too late. Southampton, Liverpool, London, and it’s Tuesday morning when the President of the United States makes the following announcement:

“Due to a national security risk, all flights to and from Europe and Asia have been canceled. If your loved ones are overseas, I’m sorry. They cannot come back until we find a cure for this thing.” Within four days our nation has been plunged into an unbelievable fear. People are selling little masks for your face. People are talking about what if it comes to this country, and preachers on Tuesday are saying, “It’s the scourge of God. ”

It’s Wednesday night and you are at a church prayer meeting when somebody runs in from the parking lot and says, “Turn on a radio, turn on a radio.” While the church listens to a little transistor radio with a microphone stuck up to it, the announcement is made,” Two women are lying in a Long Island hospital dying from the mystery flu.” Within hours it seems, this thing just sweeps across the country.

People are working around the clock trying to find an antidote. Nothing is working. California, Oregon, Arizona, Florida, Massachusetts. It’s as though it’s just sweeping in from the borders.

Then, all of a sudden the news comes out. The code has been broken. A cure can be found. A vaccine can be made. It’s going to take the blood of somebody who hasn’t been infected, and so, sure enough, all through the Midwest, through all those channels of emergency broadcasting, everyone is asked to do one simple thing: “Go to your downtown hospital and have your blood type taken. That’s all we ask of you. When you hear the sirens go off in your neighborhood, please make your way quickly, quietly, and safely to the hospitals.”

Sure enough, when you and your family get down there late on that Friday night, there is a long line, and they’ve got nurses and doctors coming out and pricking fingers and taking blood and putting labels on it.

Your wife and your kids are out there, and they take your blood type and they say, “Wait here in the parking lot and if we call your name, you can be dismissed and go home.” You stand around scared with your neighbors, wondering what in the world is going on, and that this is the end of the world.

Suddenly a young man comes running out of the hospital screaming. He’s yelling a name and waving a clipboard. What? He yells it again! And your son tugs on your jacket and says, “Daddy, that’s me.” Before you know it, they have grabbed your boy. “Wait a minute, hold it!” And they say, “It’s okay, his blood is clean. His blood is pure. We want to make sure he doesn’t have the disease. We think he has got the right type.”

Five tense minutes later, out come the doctors and nurses, crying and hugging one another some are even laughing. It’s the first time you have seen anybody laugh in a week, and an old doctor walks up to you and says, “Thank you, sir. Your son’s blood type is perfect. It’s clean, it is pure, and we can make the vaccine.” As the word begins to spread all across that parking lot full of folks, people are screaming and praying and laughing and crying.

But then the gray-haired doctor pulls you and your wife aside and says, “May we see you for a moment? We didn’t realize that the donor would be a minor and we need. . . we need you to sign a consent form.” You begin to sign and then you see that the number of pints of blood to be taken is empty. “H-h-h-how many pints?”

And that is when the old doctor’s smile fades and he says, “We had no idea it would be a little child. We weren’t prepared. We need it all!” “But but…” “You don’t understand. We are talking about the world here. Please sign. We – we need it all – we need it all!” “But can’t you give him a transfusion?” “If we had clean blood we would. Can you sign? Would you sign?” In numb silence you do. Then they say, “Would you like to have a moment with him before we begin?”

Can you walk back? Can you walk back to that room where he sits on a table saying, “Daddy? Mommy? What’s going on?” Can you take his hands and say, “Son, your mommy and I love you, and we would never ever let anything happen to you that didn’t just have to be.

Do you understand that?” And when that old doctor comes back in and says, “I’m sorry, we’ve – we’ve got to get started. People all over the world are dying.” Can you leave? Can you walk out while he is saying, “Dad? Mom? Dad? Why – why have you forsaken me?”

And then next week, when they have the ceremony to honor your son, and some folks sleep through it, and some folks don’t even come because they go to the lake, and some folks come with a pretentious smile and just pretend to care. Would you want to jump up and say, “MY SON DIED! DON’T YOU CARE?”

Is that what God is saying? “MY SON DIED. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I CARE?”

“Father, seeing it from your eyes breaks our hearts. Maybe now we begin to comprehend the great love you have for us. Amen ”

- Author unknown

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And Mary his daughter,
Just five years old,
Was very much dearer
Than millions in gold.

To Mary her father
Was big, grand and nice,
So each had a treasure,
Beyond any price.

One day to the well,
Little Mary was sent
To take daddy’s lunch,
How gladly she went.

But when she looked down,
Not a thing could be seen.
The well, like a pocket,
Was dark as could be.

The father saw Mary
And heard her voice, too,
But made not a sound,
Just to see what she’d do.

She dropped to her knees,
The dear little soul,
And called down, “Oh, Daddy,
Are you down this hole?”

“Why, yes Mary darling,
I’m here at your feet,
Just drop my lunch
For I’m ready to eat.

Just let it go easy,
I’ll catch it all right.”
She did and she saw
It fall out of sight.

“Why Mary,” said father,
“There’s enough here for two,
Now this is the thing
I would like you to do.

You jump down here to me
And we’ll eat it together,
Down here in the cool
and away from the weather.”

“Oh, daddy, I’m afraid,
I can’t see you at all,
Be sure now you catch me
And don’t let me fall.”

‘Twas just for a moment
She wavered in doubt,
Then closing her dear
Little eyes she jumped out.

In the darkness, yes,
That was the test,
She trusted in faith
At her father’s request.

And both were so happy
He kissed her and smiled
Because of the sweet
Trusting faith of his child.

“Oh, sweet little Mary,
You put me to shame,
How often my Father
Has called me the same,

But because it was dark
I turned back in doubt.
Refusing the call,
Though his arms were stretched out

- Author unknown

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An Angel sat before each of us sewing our quilt squares together into a tapestry that is our life. But as my angel took each piece of cloth off the pile, I noticed how ragged and empty each of my squares was. They were filled with giant holes. Each square was labeled with a part of my life that had been difficult, the challenges and temptations I was faced with in everyday life. I saw hardships that I endured, which were the largest holes of all.

I glanced around me. Nobody else had such squares. Other than a tiny hole here and there, the other tapestries were filled with rich color and the bright hues of worldly fortune. I gazed upon my own life and was disheartened. My angel was sewing the ragged pieces of cloth together, threadbare and empty, like binding air.

Finally the time came when each life was to be displayed, held up to the light, the scrutiny of truth. The others rose, each in turn, holding up their tapestries. So filled their lives had been.

My angel looked upon me, and nodded for me to rise. My gaze dropped to the ground in shame. I hadn’t had all the earthly fortunes. I had love in my life, and laughter. But there had also been trials of illness, and death, and false accusations that took from me my world as I knew it.

I had to start over many times. I often struggled with the temptation to quit, only to somehow muster the strength to pick up and begin again. I spent many nights on my knees in prayer, asking for help and guidance in my life. I had often been held up to ridicule, which I endured painfully, each time offering it up to the Father in hopes that I would not melt within my skin beneath the judgmental gaze of those who unfairly judged me.

And now, I had to face the truth. My life was what it was, and I had to accept it for what it was.

I rose and slowly lifted the combined squares of my life to the light.
An awe-filled gasp filled the air.

I gazed around at the others who stared at me with wide eyes. Then, I looked upon the tapestry before me. Light flooded the many holes, creating an image, the face of Christ.

Then our Lord stood before me, with warmth and love in His eyes. He said, “Every time you gave over your life to Me, it became My life, My hardships, and My struggles. Each point of light in your life is when you stepped aside and let Me shine through, until there was more of Me than there was of you.

My prayer is that all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine through.

- Author unknown

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