How to Make a Man Cry—Memorize

BibleI’ve always taught my children to memorize the Bible. I think it is good for their spirits, good for their souls, and even good for their bodies, if they heed it.

People seldom made me memorize anything until I was fourteen, but I remember much of it, today. I want my grown children to have lots and lots of the Word hiding in their hearts, and they do. It was worth all the work, just for that benefit.

Several times, though, we realized a different benefit.

I always had my children recite their memory work during our homeschool closing programs. It always was a large Scripture portion, such as The Book of James or The Letters to the Seven Churches. One night, when they recited Hebrews 11, “The Faith Chapter”, one preacher in attendance asked if we could recite it again, at his church, during the normal worship time.

After that presentation, a man remarked to me that it was such a great essay and wondered if I had written it, or where he could get a copy of it. Hmm.

I assured him I am not that great a writer, that it had been a selection from Scripture. He was astonished, said he’d never read anything that good in the Bible before. I gave him the reference. He marveled and promised he would go home and read it again, with the children’s voices still sounding in his ears, and seek for more meaning. Hmm.

But another time tops this. One night my children recited “The Sermon on the Mount”. Our youngest bravely wanted to help recite and assured me he could, although he was only seven at the time. I wondered at the wisdom of it, but knew the audience would forgive a flawed recitation from one so young. I knew this, especially since he desired to recite solo the entire parable of “The Wise and Foolish Builders”.

As the presentation progressed, I felt good about it. My children were totally prepared for this and giving, truly, one of their best recitals. However, as they neared the end, and my young son’s solo, he began to waver. After several bobbles, though, he collected himself and made it through to the end.

Bravo, Darling.

Later, I asked him what was wrong, what made him fearful. He replied, “When I saw that man in the audience crying, I thought I was doing a bad job.”

Further checking revealed this man in a rumpled suit, slumped down in his pew and openly mopping tears from a crumpled face, was the back-slidden relative of one of our group.

Oh, the power in the voice of a young child reciting Scripture! A grown man weeping to hear it, a churched man desiring to read it, what more could a mother want for reward?

Only this: that they would remember it, walk in it, and turn and teach it to their own.

Another story in this series here!

Wrapped in Nothing But a Bedsheet?

Christ with the Woman Taken in Adultery, o/t, ...The powers-that-be have just dragged her from the bed of a man to whom she is not married.

Perhaps all she is wearing is a bedsheet.

Perhaps he is one of the powers-that-be.

Nevertheless, there she stands, exposed, before her authorities. They do not care about her. They do not care about right or wrong. The have stalked her, captured her, and reduced her to the status of rubbish for one purpose: to trick a popular counselor of that day.

“The law demands this woman be stoned to death,” they announce. Then they wait. They are so sure. They have Him this time. The Man of Mercies will have to admit that mercy does not always win.

Or so they think.

He is unperturbed.

He stoops and writes in the dust. A list of their sins? Perhaps.

Do they look around themselves, worriedly, confused? Perhaps.

Meanwhile, the life of a woman hangs over eternity. Perhaps, thrown down to the ground, does she cower? Perhaps.

In a culture that forbids her uncovered state, in a land filled with huge stones, she waits, uncovered, for her stoning.

Finally the Man stands to speak. “And whoever is without sin should throw the first stone.” Then he resumes writing.

Beginning with the eldest–perhaps wisest–each man drops his gleeful attitude, drops his stone, drops his case.

Point taken.

The kind Counselor turns to ask the woman, “Where are they? Who is accusing you?”

The answer, from inside a bedsheet: “No one.”

“Neither do I condemn you.”

Notice He does not say she did not sin, but only that He does not condemn her.

She stands obviously guilty and shamed, but for her, there is now no condemnation.

Stoning is not prevalent in our society, but prostitution is. I want to ask you: How many of us have been there–a blackened past forgiven by the mercies of God?

How many of us throw away that forgiveness?

How many of us hug our sad past close and get it out to look at it and mourn over it, to relive it to its fullest?

How many of us labor with all our might to get out from under sin that no longer is over us?

How many of us, on stormy days, add to the bad past by letting it create for us bad choices, bad attitudes, bad excuses?

A bad present? Even a bad future?

Jesus asked only one thing from that woman, that day, and asks it of us, too: “Go, and sin no more.”

________________

Image via Wikipedia

Why You Would Kill a Christian

Killing Christians is a practice as old as Christianity. Those who practice it do nothing more than imitate their predecessors. Predecessors who attempted but failed to snuff out the life of our faith in its infancy.

The practice of persecution is hard for some to understand but it’s actually an understandable act. In fact, I can think of at least ten reasons to kill a Christian.

You’ll probably enjoy reading more here.

The Christian Martyrs' Last Prayer

The Christian Martyrs’ Last Prayer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

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Overheard: He’s Gonna Getcha.

I hear a lot of great stuff where I go to church, and the idea of sharing it thrills me.

Then I get nervous.

Maybe you wouldn’t like it as I do. Maybe you would resent it. Maybe you would click off. Maybe you would unsubscribe.

But then I back away and realize some of it really is excellent and who knows but that you might just love it as I do.

So here goes: something I heard a year ago, posted once, but just wanted to share again. Enjoy.

The Arkansas Gospel

Let me make this clear.

You don’t go to Heaven because God loves you, nor because you love Him.

You don’t go to Heaven because you amend your sinful ways or clean up your act.

Turning over a new leaf is rehabilitation, but it is not salvation.

Education is not the answer.

Reformation is not the answer.

Legislation is not the answer.

Jesus is the answer.

We go to Heaven because Jesus saves us through His work on the Cross.

Don’t be separated from God any longer.

Give your sinful life to Jesus at the Cross, bury it in baptism, and be born again of the Spirit of God.

That is how you enter the Kingdom of Heaven.

That reminded me of a story I heard once:
“He IS Out to Get You!”

Hernando DeSoto Bridge takes Interstate 40 acr...

Leaving West Memphis . . .

A woman was driving alone, one night, on a long trip. Having just left a convenience store and taken the on ramp back to the Interstate, she felt not so lonely because some guy had held the door for her as he’d left the store. She noticed he also on-ramped when she did—a friendly face for the journey.

As she traveled, though, she thought she noticed his car following her too close. When she increased her speed a bit to make some distance, his car also increased its speed.

Tensing, and persuading herself it was coincidence, she began weaving through traffic, checking her rear view mirror.

That car followed her every move.

She upped her speed to 80, which she usually never did, and the car was still right behind her.

She could think of nothing to do but exit again, where there was civilization, and force that driver to change plans.

It was a long five miles to the exit.

Carefully, she scooted through traffic into the right lane at the last minute, without signaling, almost missed the exit, and looked up to realize that car loomed closer than ever.

There was no choice, now, but to tear into a gas station parking area, laying on the horn, screech to a stop, throw open the door, and, in desperation, flee into the building, sobbing.

Simultaneously, the driver of the other car also slammed on his brakes, and threw open his door with an angry grimace, running directly to her car, tore open the back door, and grabbed a ski-masked man from the floorboard, beating him until he collapsed.

And you don’t know it, but you’ve got trouble in your back seat.

And God is following you.

And He will never give up, so you might as well.

Guestpost at Tiffany’s!

My friend, Tiffany’s blog site, that is!

We’ve “known” each other a long time, but never met. She loves on new-born babies as they enter this harsh world, with total gentleness, I’m sure breaking the shock for the little ones she holds so dear.

She loves on grown ups the same way.

Which explains why she would be so kind as to invite me to guest post at her place.

Run on over to her lovely, quiet, gentle place and read what she asked me to write.

Give her lots of blog love for being so kind to me.

⭐ And comment!

Nothing New Under the Sun, but Under the Ground? Something Really Old.

This makes the Roman Catacombs look like a toy,
and Minecraft like a joke.

They’ve been finding entire underground cities that ancient historians once spoke of, complete with rivers and cathedrals, and they’ve not really been getting the word out until now. This amazing article will make you want to go there. It can make more sense of Hebrews 11:36-39, where the Bible tells us:

“Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted, and mistreated–the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.”

Well, enjoy the link. It’s amazing to think of all the work these finds took to produce in the first place.

But I’d sure not want to live there, would you?