Emergency Numbers

IMAGINE PRAYING AND HEARING THIS:


Thank you for calling My Father's House. Please select one of the following options:

* Press 1 for Requests.
* Press 2 for Thanksgiving.
* Press 3 for Complaints.
* For all other inquiries, Press 4.
* If you want King David to sing you a Psalm, Press 6.

Would you hear......

"All of the angels are helping other customers right now. Please stay on the line, your call will be answered in the order it was received."


"For reservation at My Father's House, simply press the letters J-O-H-N on the keypad, followed by the numbers 3-1-6."


"For answers to nagging questions about dinosaurs, the age of the earth and where Noah's Ark is, wait until you get here."


"Our computers show that you have called once today already. Please hang-up immediately."


"This office is closed for the weekend. Please call again on Monday."


End of message.


Thank God, you can't call Him too often!!! You only need to ring once and God hears you, because of Jesus, you never get a busy signal. God takes each call and knows each caller personally. When you call
and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help and He will say:


"Here am I!"


For when you call:


USE THESE EMERGENCY PHONE NUMBERS


* When in sorrow, call John 14
* When men fail you, call Psalm 27
* If you want to be fruitful, call John 15
* When you have sinned, call Psalm 51
* When you worry, call Matthew 6:19-34
* When you are in danger, call Psalm 91
* When God seems far away, call Psalm 139
* When your faith needs stirring, call Hebrews 11
* When you are lonely and fearful, call Psalm 23
* When you grow bitter and critical, call I Corinthians 13
* For Paul's secret to happiness, call Colossians 3:12-17
* For idea of Christianity, call I Corinthians 5:15-19
* When you feel down and out, call Romans 8:31-39
* When you want peace and rest, call Matthew 11:25-30
* When the world seems bigger than God, call Psalm 90
* When you want Christian assurance, call Romans 8:1-30
* When you leave home for labor or travel, call Psalm 121
* When your prayers grow narrow or selfish, call Psalm 67
* For a great invention/opportunity, call Isaiah 55
* When you want courage for a task, call Joshua 1
* How to get along with fellowmen, call Romans 12
* When you think of investments/returns, call Mark 10
* If you are depressed, call Psalm 27
* If your pocketbook is empty, call Psalm 37
* If you're losing confidence in people, call I Corinthians 13
* If people seem unkind, call John 15
* If discouraged about your work, call Psalm 126
* If you find the world growing small, and yourself great, call Psalm 19

Emergency numbers may be dialed direct.
No operator assistance is necessary.
All lines are open to Heaven 24 hours a day.

God Bless!! Ü

The Necklace

I received this from a friend and had to share.......

The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box..

"Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?"

Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face.


"A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself.. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma."

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?"

"Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you."

"Then give me your pearls."

"Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She's my very favorite."

"That's okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?"

"Daddy, you know I love you."

"Then give me your pearls."

"Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper."

"That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one.. Daddy loves you."

And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style.

As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek.

"What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?"

Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here daddy, this is for you."

With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny ...

He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure. So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures.

God will never take away something without giving you something better in its place.

....hope you enjoyed!! God Bless Ü

Pica and Iron Deficiency (Anemia)

In the past week I have been diagnosed as anemic. Being diabetic and having high triglycerides calls for blood work being performed every 3 months so I am diagnosed pretty quickly if anything else, such as this, pops up.

Do you like Sonics’ ice? I love it. You can actually purchase it by the bag as well. It is the only place around here to get those little chunks that are great for chomping on. We had been purchasing about 16 pounds of ice every 5-7 days. I had been eating most of it. Granted it is a great snack, talk about low calorie, no calories! LOL However it was bordering on obsessive and I hadn’t really given it much thought because it is water. Your body needs water, I craved it plus I am diabetic so it all made sense to me. When you start waking up in the middle of the night to grab a cup of ice chips, look into it.

Pica is the desire to eat ice. I only found this out once my “awesome” doctor (Jennifer) told me that I was anemic. I hadn’t told her about the ice craving because I didn’t know that it was a sign of anything. It is odd how much you can find out online. Just be careful that you are looking on reputable sites. Remember that .org sites are great accurate sites!!! Anemia can play with your body in so many ways that it is unbelievable. If you have arthritis, it can make it worse. Now the fun part, finding out why. In past years I have been treated for endometriosis and that is more than likely the problem now. We will soon find out.

The moral of this story………tell your doctor if you have odd cravings, even if it is as simple as ice. There are usually medical reasons behind those.

Take care and thanks for stopping by. God Bless ^j^

Cherokee Legend

Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youth's rite of Passage?

His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him an leaves him alone. He is required to sit on a stump the whole night and not remove the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it.

He cannot cry out for help to anyone.

Once he survives the night, he is a MAN.

He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own.

The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. The wind blew the grass and earth, and shook his stump, but he sat stoically, never removing the blindfold. It would be the only way he could become a man!

Finally, after a horrific night the sun appeared and he removed his blindfold.

It was then that he discovered his father sitting on the stump next to him. He had been at watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm. We, too, are never alone.

Even when we don’t know it, God is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us. When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.

Moral of the story: Just because you can't see God, Doesn't mean He is not there."For we walk by faith, not by sight."

Updated Version of "'Twas The Night Before Christmas"

*Twas the month before Christmas*
*When all through our land,*
*Not a Christian was praying*
*Nor taking a stand.*
*See the PC Police had taken away,*
*The reason for Christmas - no one could say.*
*The children were told by their schools not to sing,*
*About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things.*
*It might hurt people's feelings, the teachers would say*
* December 25th is just a 'Holiday'.*
*Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, checks and credit*
*Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!*
*CDs from Madonna, an X BOX, an I-pod*
*Something was changing, something quite odd! *
*Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa*
*In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.*
*As Targets were hanging their trees upside down*
* At Lowe's the word Christmas - was no where to be found.*
*At K-Mart and Staples and Penny's and Sears*
*You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.*
*Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty*
*Are words that were used to intimidate me.*
*Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen*
*On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton!*
*At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter*
*To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.*
*And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith*
* Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace*
*The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded*
*The reason for the season, stopped before it started.*
*So as you celebrate 'Winter Break' under your 'Dream Tree'*
*Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.*
*Choose your words carefully, choose what you say*
*Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS ,
not Happy Holiday!*
Please, all Christians join together and
wish everyone you meet
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Christ is :The Reason for the Christ-mas Season!

~The Pickle Jar~

~The Pickle Jar~

The pickle jar as far back as I can remember sat on the floor beside the dresser in my parents' bedroom. When he got ready for bed, Dad would empty his pockets and toss his coins into the jar.

As a small boy I was always fascinated at the sounds the coins made as they were dropped into the jar. They landed with a merry jingle when the jar was almost empty..Then the tones gradually muted to a dull thud as the jar was filled.

I used to squat on the floor in front of the jar and admire the copper and silver circles that glinted like a pirate's treasure when the sun poured through the bedroom window. When the jar was filled, Dad would sit at the kitchen table and roll the coins before taking them to the bank.

Taking the coins to the bank was always a big production. Stacked neatly in a small cardboard box, the coins were placed between Dad and me on the seat of his old truck.

Each and every time, as we drove to the bank, Dad would look at me hopefully. 'Those coins are going to keep you out of the textile mill, son You're going to do better than me. This old mill town's not going to hold you back.'

Also, each and every time, as he slid the box of rolled coins across the counter at the bank toward the cashier, he would grin proudly 'These are for my son's college fund. He'll never work at the mill all his life like me.'

We would always celebrate each deposit by stopping for an ice cream cone. I always got chocolate. Dad always got vanilla. When the clerk at the ice cream parlor handed Dad his change, he would show me the few coins nestled in his palm. 'When we get home, we'll start filling the jar again.' He always let me drop the first coins into the empty jar. As they rattled around with a brief, happy jingle, we grinned at each other. 'You'll get to college on pennies, nickels, dimes and quarters,' he said. 'But you'll get there; I'll see to that.' No matter how rough things got at home, Dad continued to doggedly drop his coins into the jar. Even the summer when Dad got laid off from the mill,and Mama had to serve dried beans several times a week, not a single dime was taken from the jar.

To the contrary, as Dad looked across the table at me, pouring catsup over my beans to make them more palatable, he became more determined than ever to make a way out for me. 'When you finish college, Son,' he told me, his eyes glistening, 'You'll never have to eat beans again - unless you want to.'

The years passed, and I finished college and took a job in another town. Once, while visiting my parents, I used the phone in their bedroom, and noticed that the pickle jar was gone. It had served its purpose and had been removed.

A lump rose in my throat as I stared at the spot beside the dresser where the jar had always stood. My dad was a man of few words, and never lectured me on the values of determination, perseverance, and faith. The pickle jar had taught me all these virtues far more eloquently than the most flowery of words could have done. When I married, I told my wife Susan about the significant part the lowly pickle jar had played in my life as a boy.. In my mind, it defined, more than anything else, how much my dad had loved me..

The first Christmas after our daughter Jessica was born, we spent the holiday with my parents. After dinner, Mom and Dad sat next to each other on the sofa, taking turns cuddling their first grandchild. Jessica began to whimper softly, and Susan took her from Dad's arms. 'She probably needs to be changed,' she said, carrying the baby into my parents' bedroom to diaper her. When Susan came back into the living room, there was a strange mist in her eyes.

She handed Jessica back to Dad before taking my hand and leading me into the room. 'Look,' she said softly, her eyes directing me to a spot on the floor beside the dresser. To my amazement, there, as if it had never been removed, stood the old pickle jar, the bottom already covered with coins. I walked over to the pickle jar, dug down into my pocket, and pulled out a fistful of coins. With a gamut of emotions choking me, I dropped the coins into the jar. I looked up and saw that Dad, carrying Jessica, had slipped quietly into the room. Our eyes locked, and I knew he was feeling the same emotions I felt. Neither one of us could speak.

This truly touched my heart. I know it has yours as well. Sometimes we are so busy adding up our troubles that we forget to count our blessings.Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life, for better or for worse.

God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for Good in others.

The best and most beautiful things cannot be seen or touched - they must be felt with the heart ~ Helen Keller

- Happy moments, praise God.
- Difficult moments, seek God.
- Quiet moments, worship God.
- Painful moments, trust God.
- Every moment, thank God.

Highway 109

A drunk man in an Oldsmobile

They said had run the light

That caused the six-car pileup

On 109 that night.

When broken bodies lay about

And blood was everywhere,

The sirens screamed out eulogies,

For death was in the air.

A mother, trapped inside her car,

Was heard above the noise;

Her plaintive plea near split the air:

"Oh, God, please spare my boys!"

She fought to loose her pinned hands

She struggled to get free,

But mangled metal held her fast

In grim captivity.

Her frightened eyes then focused

On where the back seat once had been,

But all she saw was broken glass and

Two children's seats crushed in.

Her twins were nowhere to be seen;

She did not hear them cry,

And then she prayed they'd been thrown free,

"Oh, God, don't let them die!

Then firemen came and cut her loose,

But when they searched the back,

'They found therein no little boys,

But the seat belts were intact.

They thought the woman had gone mad

And was traveling alone,

But when they turned to question her,

They discovered she was gone.

Policemen saw her running wild

And screaming above the noise

In beseeching supplication,

"Please help me find my boys!"

"They're four years old and wear blue shirts;

Their jeans are blue to match.''

One cop spoke up,

''They're in my car,

And they don't have a scratch.

" They said their daddy put them there

"And gave them each a cone,

Then told them both to wait for Mom

To come and take them home."

"I've searched the area high and low,

But I can't find their dad.

He must have fled the scene,

I guess, and that is very bad."

'The mother hugged the twins and said,

While wiping at a tear,

"He could not flee the scene, you see,

For he's been dead a year.

" The cop just looked confused and asked,

"Now, how can that be true? '

'The boys said, 'Mommy, Daddy came

And left a kiss for you.'''

"He told us not to worry

And that you would be all right,

And then he put us in this car with

'The pretty, flashing light."

"We wanted him to stay with us,

Because we miss him so,

But Mommy, he just hugged us tight

And said he had to go."

"He said someday we'd understand

And told us not to fuss,

And he said to tell you, Mommy,

He's watching over us."

The mother knew without a doubt

That what they spoke was true,

For she recalled their dad's last words,

"I will watch over you."

The fire men's notes could not explain

The twisted, mangled car,

And how the three of them escaped

Without a single scar.

But on the cop's report was scribed,

In print so very fine,

An angel walked the beat tonight on Highway 109.