|
As I faced my Maker at the last judgment, I knelt before the Lord along
with all the other souls. Before each of us lay our lives like the squares
of a quilt in many piles. 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. 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. A 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.
May all our quilts be threadbare and worn, allowing Christ to shine
through. Please share this with someone you love, care about or even
someone who needs Jesus in their heart. They may scoff, but at least the
seed has been planted, and God will do the rest. May God bless you today.
Author Unknown - Submitted by Cathy MonCrief
Dust if you must.
But wouldn't it be better to paint a picture,
or write a letter, bake a cake, or plant a seed.
Ponder the
difference between want and need.
Dust if you must.
But there
is not much time,
with rivers to swim and mountains to climb!
Music to hear, and books to read,
friends to cherish and life to
lead.
Dust if you must.
But the world's out there with the sun
in your eyes,
the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of
rain.
This day will not come round again.
Dust if you must.
But bear in mind, old age will come
and it's not kind. And when
you go, and
go you must, you, yourself, will make more dust.
Remember...
a house becomes a home when you can write
"I love you" on the furniture.
Tyra
UNFOLDING THE ROSE:
A young, new preacher was walking with
an older, more
seasoned preacher in the garden one day. Feeling a bit
insecure about what God had for him to do, he was
asking the older
preacher for some advice. The older
preacher walked up to a rosebush
and handed the young
preacher a rosebud and told him to open it
without
tearing off any petals. The young preacher looked in
disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to
figure out what
a rosebud could possibly have to do
with his wanting to know the will
of God for his life
and ministry. But because of his great respect for
the
older preacher, he proceeded to try to unfold the
rose, while
keeping every petal intact... It wasn't
long before he realized how
impossible this was to do.
Noticing the younger preacher's inability
to unfold
the rosebud without tearing it, the older preacher
began
to recite the following poem...
It i! s only a tiny rosebud,
A
flower of God's design;
But I cannot unfold the petals
With these
clumsy hands of mine.
The secret of unfolding flowers
Is not known
to such as I.
GOD opens this flower so sweetly,
Then in my hands
they die.
If I cannot unfold a rosebud,
This flower of God's
design,
Then how can I have the wisdom
To unfold this life of
mine?
So I'll trust in Him for leading
Each moment of my day.
I will look to him for His guidance
Each step of the pilgrim way.
The pathway that lies before me,
Only my Heavenly Father knows.
I'll trust Him to unfold the moments,
Just as He unfolds the rose. |
