When you're down to nothing, God is up to something."
This is beautiful! Try not to cry.
She jumped up as soon as she saw the surgeon come out of the operating room. She said: "How is my little boy ? Is he going to be all right ? When can I see him ?"
The surgeon said, "I'm sorry. We did all we could, but your boy didn't make it."
Sally said, "Why do little children get cancer ? Doesn't God care any more ? Where were you, God, when my son needed you ?"
The surgeon asked, "Would you like some time alone with your son ? One of the nurses will be out in a few minut es, before he's transported to the university."
Sally asked the nurse to stay with her while she said good bye to son. She ran her fingers lovingly through his thick red curly hair. "Would you like a lock of his hair ?" the nurse asked.
Sally nodded yes. T he nurse cut a lock of the boy's hair, put it in a plastic bag and handed it to Sally.
The mother said, "It was Jimmy's idea to donate his body to the University for Study. He said it might help somebody else. "I said no at first, but Jimmy said, 'Mom, I won't be using it after I die. Maybe it will help some other little boy spend one more day with his Mom." She went on, "My Jimmy had a heart of gold. Always thinking of so meone else. Always wanting to help others if he 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 Jimmy'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 Jimmy's belongings, and the plastic bag with the lock of his hair to her son's room.
She started placing the model cars and other personal things back in his room exactly where he had always kept them. She laid down across his bed and, hugging his pillow, cried herself to sleep.
It was around midnight when Sally awoke. Laying 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 boy so you won't be so lonely, that's okay with me. He can have my room and old stuff to play with. But, if you decide to get a girl instead, she probably wouldn't like the same things us boys do. You'll have to buy her dolls and stuff girls like, you know. Don't be sad thinking about me. This really is a neat place. Grandma and G randpa 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 o n 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 almo st 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.
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HOW AN 8 YEAR OLD EXPLAINS GOD..
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One of God’s main jobs is making people. He makes them to replace the ones that die so there will be enough people to take care of things here on earth.
He doesn’t make grown-ups, just babies.
I think because they are smaller and easier to make. That way, He doesn’t have to take up His valuable time teaching them to talk and walk, He can just leave that to mothers and fathers.
God’s second most important job is listening to prayers. An awful lot of this goes on, since some people, like preachers and things, pray at times besides bedtime. God doesn’t have time to listen to the radio or TV on account of this. Since He hears everything, not only prayers, there must be a terrible lot of noise in His ears, unless He has thought of a way to turn it off.
God sees everything and hears everything and is everywhere, which keeps Him pretty busy. So you shouldn’t go wasting His time by going over your parent’s head asking for something they said you couldn’t have.
Atheists are people who don’t believe in God. I don’t think there are any in Chula Vista. At least there aren’t any who come to our church.
Jesus is God’s Son. He used to do all the hard work like walking on water and performing miracles and trying to teach the people who didn’t want to learn about God. They finally got tired of Him preaching to them and they crucified Him. But He was good and kind like His Father and He told His Father that they didn’t know what they were doing and to forgive them and God said OK.
His Dad (God) appreciated everything that He had done and all His hard work on earth so He told Him He didn’t have to go out on the road anymore, He could stay in heaven. So He did. And now He helps His Dad out by listening to prayers and seeing things which are important for God to take care of and which ones He can take care of himself without having to bother God. Like a secretary, only more important, of course.
You can pray anytime you want and they are sure to hear you because they got it worked out so one of them is on duty all the times.
You should always go to church on Sunday because it makes God happy, and if there’s anybody you want to make happy, it’s God. Don’t skip church to do something you think will be more fun like going to the beach. This is wrong! And, besides, the sun doesn’t come out at the beach until noon anyway.
If you don’t believe in God, besides being an atheist, you will be very lonely, because your parents can’t go everywhere with you, like to camp, but God can.
It is good to know He’s around you when you’re scared in the dark or when you can’t swim very good and you get thrown into real deep water by big kids. But you shouldn’t just always think of what God can do for you.
I figure God put me here and He can take me back anytime He pleases. And that’s why I believe in God.”
- Written by Danny Dutton, age 8, from Chula Vista, California, for his third grade homework assignment to “Explain God.
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He sits by himself at a table for two.
The uniformed waiter returns to his side and asks, "Would you like to go ahead and order, sir?" The man has, after all, been waiting since seven o'clock -- almost half an hour.
"No, thank you," the man smiles. "I'll wait for her a while longer. How about some more coffee?"
"Certainly, sir."
The man sits, his clear blue eyes gazing straight through the flowered centerpiece. He fingers his napkin, allowing the sounds of light chatter, tinkling silverware, and mellow music to fill his mind. He is dressed in sport coat and tie. His dark brown hair is neatly combed, but one stray lock insists on dropping to his forehead. The scent of his cologne adds to his clean cut image. He is dressed up enough to make a companion feel important, respected, loved. Yet he is not so formal as to make one uncomfortable. It seems that he has taken every precaution to make others feel at ease with him.
Still, he sits alone.
The waiter returns to fill the man's coffee cup. "Is there anything else I can get for you, sir?"
"No, thank you."
The waiter remains standing at the table. Something tugs at his curiosity. "I don't mean to pry, but..." His voice trails off. This line of conversation could jeopardize his tip.
"Go ahead," the man encourages. His is strong, yet sensitive, inviting conversation.
"Why do you bother waiting for her?" the waiter finally blurts out. This man has been at the restaurant other evenings, always patiently alone.
Says the man quietly, "Because she needs me."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Well, sir, no offense, but assuming that she needs you, she sure isn't acting much like it. She's stood you up three times just this week."
The man winces, and looks down at the table. "Yes, I know."
"Then why do you still come here and wait?"
"Cassie said that she would be here."
"She's said that before," the waiter protests. "I wouldn't put up with it. Why do you?"
Now the man looks up, smiles at the waiter, and says simply, "Because I love her."
The waiter walks away, wondering how one could love a girl who stands him up three times a week. The man must be crazy, he decides. Across the room, he turns to look at the man again. The man slowly pours cream into his coffee. He twirls his spoon between his fingers a few times before stirring sweetener into his cup. After staring for a moment into the liquid, the man brings the cup to his mouth and sips, silently watching those around him. He doesn't look crazy, the waiter admits. Maybe the girl has qualities that I don't know about. Or maybe the man's love is stronger than most. The waiter shakes himself out of his musings to take an order from a party of five.
The man watches the waiter, wonders if he's ever been stood up. The man has, many times. But he still can't get used to it. Each time, it hurts. He's looked forward to this evening all day. He has many things, exciting things, to tell Cassie. But, more importantly, he wants to hear Cassie's voice. He wants her to tell him all about her day, her triumphs, her defeats....anything, really. He has tried so many times to show Cassie how much he loves her. He'd just like to know that she cares for him, too. He sips sporadically at the coffee, and loses himself in thought,
knowing that Cassie is late, but still hoping that she will arrive.
The clock says nine-thirty when the waiter returns to the man's table. "Is there anything I can get for you?"
The still empty chair stabs at the man. "No, I think that will be all for tonight. May I have the check please?"
"Yes, sir."
When the waiter leaves, the man picks up the check. He pulls out his wallet and signs. He has enough money to have given Cassie a feast. But he takes out only enough to pay for his five cups of coffee and the tip. Why do you do this, Cassie, his mind cries as he gets up from the table.
"Good-bye," the waiter says, as the man walks towards the door.
"Good night. Thank you for your service."
"You're welcome, sir," says the waiter softly, for he sees the hurt in the man's eyes that his smile doesn't hide.
The man passes a laughing young couple on his way out, and his eyes glisten as he thinks of the good time he and Cassie could have had. He stops at the front and makes reservations for tomorrow. Maybe Cassie will be able to make it, he thinks.
"Seven o'clock tomorrow for party of two?" the hostess confirms.
"That's right," the man replies.
"Do you think she'll come??" asks the hostess. She doesn't mean to be rude, but she has watched the man many times alone at his table for two.
"Someday, yes. And I will be waiting for her." The man buttons his overcoat and walks out of the restaurant, alone. His shoulders are hunched, but through the windows the hostess can only guess whether they are hunched against the wind or against the man's hurt.
As the man turns toward home, Cassie turns into bed. She is tired after an evening out with friends. As she reaches toward her night stand to set the alarm, she sees the note that she scribbled to herself last night.
"7:00," it says. "Spend some time in prayer." Darn, she thinks. She forgot again. She feels a twinge of guilt, but quickly pushes it aside. She needed that time with her friends. And now she needs her sleep. She can pray tomorrow night. Jesus will forgive her.
And she's sure he doesn't mind.
Just P.U.S.H!
A man was sleeping at night in his cabin, when suddenly his room
filled with light, and God appeared.
The Lord told the man he had work for him to do, and showed him a
large rock in front of his cabin. The Lord explained that the man was
to push against the rock with all his might.
So, this the man did, day after day. For many years he toiled from sun
up to sun down, his shoulders set squarely against the cold, massive
surface of the unmoving rock, pushing with all of his might.
Each night the man returned to his cabin sore and worn out, feeling
that his day had been spent in vain.
Since the man was showing discouragement, the Adversary (Satan)
decided to enter the picture by placing thoughts into the weary mind:
"You have been pushing against that rock for a long time, and it
hasn't moved."
Thus, he gave the man the impression that the task was impossible and
that he was a failure. These thoughts discouraged and disheartened the
man. Satan said, "Why kill yourself over this? Just put in your time,
giving just the minimum effort; and that will be good enough."
That's what the weary man planned to do, but decided to make it a
matter of prayer and to take his troubled thoughts to the Lord.
"Lord," he said, "I have labored long and hard in your service,
putting all my strength to do that which you have asked. Yet, after
all this time, I have not even budged that rock by half a millimeter.
What is wrong? Why am I failing?"
The Lord responded compassionately, "My friend, when I asked you to
serve Me and you accepted, I told you that your task was to push
against the rock with all your strength, which you have done. Never
once did I mention to you that I expected you to move it... Your task
was to push. And now you come to Me with your strength spent,thinking
that you have failed. But, is this really so? Look at yourself. Your
arms are strong and muscled, your back sinewy and brown; your hands
are callused from constant pressure, your legs have become massive and
hard. Through opposition you have grown much, and your abilities now
surpass that which you used to have. True, you haven't moved the rock.
But your calling was to be obedient and to push and to exercise your
faith and trust in My wisdom. That you have done. Now I, my friend,
will move the rock."
At times, when we hear a word from God, we tend to use our own
intellect to decipher what He wants, when actually what God wants is
just a simple obedience and faith in Him. By all means, exercise the
faith that moves mountains.
When everything seems to go wrong, just P.U.S.H.!*
When the job gets you down, ...just P.U.S.H.!*
When your money is "gone" and the bills are due, ...just P.U.S.H.!*
When people just don't understand you, ... just P.U.S.H.!*
*P = Pray U = Until S = Something H = Happens
Pass this on to all the loved ones and friends who may need it; they
may get it just in time. Truly, great friends are hard to find,
difficult to leave and impossible to forget!
