The early excitement for the day is the arrival of Marion & Dale's first grandchild, Miss Cheyenne. She and her mother are recovering from the delivery in Ohio.
Well, we are going to try getting off to school once again this morning. Now barring any bad weather between our leaving and his end of the school day. Things should go smoothly. Sean got into school just fine, he's signed his attendance contract and ready to go for the day. He was off to drama class followed by history then home. Not a bad day. The weather forecast for the day is "a slight chance of snow and freezing rain between 10am and 1pm, then rain likely". Alice said that there was snow at her house as she was leaving - and once I left school from dropping Sean off. The car had a thin layer of snow on it. I'm hoping that we will be through with the messy stuff before the afternoon begins. The snow quit. It didn't last for more than about 45 minutes. There is always the possibility of more later, but...I doubt it.
The house is showing again today between 11:00 & 1:00 p.m. So Sean and I will be out with the girls at Mom & Dad's house. It would be great to get a contract on the house so I can quit having to leave all the time.
I have managed to get everything all together with the house. So I am planning on heading out of here in about 20 minutes with the girls. Then getting back to school to pick up Sean. So far, no phone calls from school - YIPPEE!! He and I are then going to head back out to Mom & Dad's until close to 1:00.
BIG NEWS for ALICE! Dave Worrie's office manager has called here looking to find out how our brochure our house was put together. I gave her Alice's direct office number and told them to speak to her about it. They may wind up putting together a deal where she can do some side work on a quick turn around basis.
Sean had a great day at school. He came bouncing out of school with loads of energy and was in a fantastic mood. He even stated that he should have made it back yesterday, and couldn't figure out why he had panicked about it so. That's great news for another great start on Friday.
Tomorrow has a bright start to it already. He tells me that at the end of the semester (just about a week away) he will be starting HomeEc and Science. I can see where all the watching of Mythbusters will pay off.
Snowy Fun
Hmmm? I've been testing out a new plan this afternoon to see if I could make it snow in blog post. So far I've managed to get this far. The next step is to see if I can keep it from spilling over into the post below. So I guess this is a watch and see space. It would sure be fun to have it snowing in the post on a day it was actually snowing outside.
According to the NOAA, tonight: A chance of rain and snow before 1am. Cloudy, then gradually becoming partly cloudy, with a low around 29. Light north wind. Chance of precipitation is 50%.
So with the thoughts of snow on our mind I did add this extra blog post this afternoon.
WEATHER UPDATE: IT'S SPITTING SOMETHING AT US!!!!
Email & Newsletter Gleanings.
Thought for the Day: The greatest act of faith is when man decides he is not God. - Oliver Wendell Holmes
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. " I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School . Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.
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. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him."
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 wasted 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 was "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.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 If you feel the same way forward it to as many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?
Well, we are going to try getting off to school once again this morning. Now barring any bad weather between our leaving and his end of the school day. Things should go smoothly. Sean got into school just fine, he's signed his attendance contract and ready to go for the day. He was off to drama class followed by history then home. Not a bad day. The weather forecast for the day is "a slight chance of snow and freezing rain between 10am and 1pm, then rain likely". Alice said that there was snow at her house as she was leaving - and once I left school from dropping Sean off. The car had a thin layer of snow on it. I'm hoping that we will be through with the messy stuff before the afternoon begins. The snow quit. It didn't last for more than about 45 minutes. There is always the possibility of more later, but...I doubt it.
The house is showing again today between 11:00 & 1:00 p.m. So Sean and I will be out with the girls at Mom & Dad's house. It would be great to get a contract on the house so I can quit having to leave all the time.
I have managed to get everything all together with the house. So I am planning on heading out of here in about 20 minutes with the girls. Then getting back to school to pick up Sean. So far, no phone calls from school - YIPPEE!! He and I are then going to head back out to Mom & Dad's until close to 1:00.
BIG NEWS for ALICE! Dave Worrie's office manager has called here looking to find out how our brochure our house was put together. I gave her Alice's direct office number and told them to speak to her about it. They may wind up putting together a deal where she can do some side work on a quick turn around basis.
Sean had a great day at school. He came bouncing out of school with loads of energy and was in a fantastic mood. He even stated that he should have made it back yesterday, and couldn't figure out why he had panicked about it so. That's great news for another great start on Friday.Tomorrow has a bright start to it already. He tells me that at the end of the semester (just about a week away) he will be starting HomeEc and Science. I can see where all the watching of Mythbusters will pay off.
Snowy Fun
Hmmm? I've been testing out a new plan this afternoon to see if I could make it snow in blog post. So far I've managed to get this far. The next step is to see if I can keep it from spilling over into the post below. So I guess this is a watch and see space. It would sure be fun to have it snowing in the post on a day it was actually snowing outside.According to the NOAA, tonight: A chance of rain and snow before 1am. Cloudy, then gradually becoming partly cloudy, with a low around 29. Light north wind. Chance of precipitation is 50%.
So with the thoughts of snow on our mind I did add this extra blog post this afternoon.
WEATHER UPDATE: IT'S SPITTING SOMETHING AT US!!!!
Email & Newsletter Gleanings.
Thought for the Day: The greatest act of faith is when man decides he is not God. - Oliver Wendell Holmes
ON GETTING OLDER
THE ROOM
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. " I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.
Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School . Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.
Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.
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. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him."
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 wasted 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 was "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.
"I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whosoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16 If you feel the same way forward it to as many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?
No comments:
Post a Comment