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Post by SunnyGirl on Jul 15, 2010 12:21:29 GMT -5
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Post by SunnyGirl on Jul 17, 2010 15:32:59 GMT -5
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Post by SunnyGirl on Jul 19, 2010 12:32:27 GMT -5
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Post by SunnyGirl on Jul 20, 2010 10:36:14 GMT -5
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Post by SunnyGirl on Jul 22, 2010 12:37:50 GMT -5
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Post by SunnyGirl on Jul 30, 2010 12:54:38 GMT -5
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Post by caressa on Nov 10, 2010 17:57:25 GMT -5
The Scars of Life . . .
Some years ago, on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.
He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.
His father working in the yard saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could.
Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father. It was too late. Just as he reached his father, the alligator reached him. From the dock, the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the
father, but the father was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard his screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.
Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches
where his father's fingernails dug into his flesh in his effort to hang on to the son he loved.
The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them
because my Dad wouldn't let go."
You and I can identify with that little boy. We! have scars, too. No,not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go. In the
midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you. The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril
- and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful. He did not and will not ever let you go.
This email was cleaned by emailStripper, available for free from www.papercut.biz/emailStripper.htm
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Post by BW on Nov 11, 2010 13:52:48 GMT -5
Great message
thanx
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Post by caressa on Feb 17, 2011 17:21:32 GMT -5
The Concert
When the house lights dimmed and the concert was about to begin, the mother returned to her seat and discovered that the child was missing
Suddenly, the curtains parted and spotlights focused on the impressive Steinway on stage.
To her horror, the mother saw her little boy sitting at the keyboard, innocently picking out "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."
At that moment, the great piano master made his entrance, quickly moved to the piano, and whispered in the boy's ear,
"Don't quit . . . keep playing."
Then, leaning over, Paderewski reached down with his left hand and began filling in a bass part. Soon his right arm reached around to the other side of the child, and he added a running obbligato.
Together, the old master and the young novice transformed what could have been a frightening situation into a wonderfully creative experience.
The audience was so mesmerized that they couldn't recall what else the great master played.
Only the classic,
" Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star."
Perhaps that's the way it is with God.
What we can accomplish on our own is hardly noteworthy.
We try our best, but the results aren't always graceful flowing music. However, with the hand of the Master, our life's work can truly be beautiful.
The next time you set out to accomplish great feats, listen carefully. You may hear the voice of the Master, whispering in your ear,
"Don't quit . . . Keep playing."
May you feel His arms around you and know that His hands are there, helping you turn your feeble attempts into true masterpieces.
Remember, God doesn't seem to call the equipped, rather, He equips the 'called.'
Life is more accurately measured by the lives you touch than by the things you acquire. So touch someone by passing this little message along.
May God bless you and be with you always! and remember, "Don't quit . . Keep playing."
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