Re: Just Sharing

[Guest guest]

Kiss Kiss,

Ginger

ipf 9/04

A Christian By Maya Angelou When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'." I'm whispering "I was lost, Now I'm found and forgiven." When I say... "I am a Christian" I don't speak of this with pride. I'm confessing that I stumble and need Christ to be my guide. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not trying to be strong. I'm professing that I'm weak And need His strength to carry on. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not bragging of success. I'm admitting I have failed And need God to clean my mess. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not claiming to be perfect, My flaws are far too visible But, God believes I am worth it. When I say... "I am a Christian" I still feel the sting of pain. I have my share of heartaches So I call upon His name. When I say... "I am a Christian" I'm not holier than thou, I'm just a simple sinner Who received God's good grace, somehow! Share this with those who do not have a clear understanding of what it means to be a Christian, so that the myth that Christians think they are "perfect" or "better than others" can be dispelled. May your day be filled with many blessings. HE lived, HE died, HE rose again on high - He opened the way, for the world to live again - Hallelujah, for all HE's done. __________________________________________________Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

[Guest guest]

Amen Ginger, I have heard that message twice today.. Just got in from

Church. It was Wonderful, glorious. I'll give you my testimony one day. I

have been healed several times in my life..God is Good.

" I am a Christian "

Peggy 09/04 ipf

>

> Kiss Kiss,

> Ginger

> ipf 9/04

> A Christian

>

> By Maya Angelou

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I'm not shouting " I'm clean livin'. "

>

> I'm whispering " I was lost,

>

> Now I'm found and forgiven. "

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I don't speak of this with pride.

>

> I'm confessing that I stumble

>

> and need Christ to be my guide.

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I'm not trying to be strong.

>

> I'm professing that I'm weak

>

> And need His strength to carry on.

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I'm not bragging of success.

>

> I'm admitting I have failed

>

> And need God to clean my mess.

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I'm not claiming to be perfect,

>

> My flaws are far too visible

>

> But, God believes I am worth it.

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I still feel the sting of pain.

>

> I have my share of heartaches

>

> So I call upon His name.

>

>

> When I say... " I am a Christian "

>

> I'm not holier than thou,

>

> I'm just a simple sinner

>

> Who received God's good grace, somehow!

>

>

> Share this with those who do not have a clear understanding of what it means

> to be a Christian, so that the myth that Christians think they are " perfect "

> or " better than others " can be dispelled.

>

> May your day be filled with many blessings.

>

>

> HE lived, HE died, HE rose again on high - He opened

>

> the way, for the world to live again - Hallelujah, for

>

> all HE's done.

> __________________________________________________

>

> Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak

>

> kindly. Leave the rest to God.

>

[Guest guest]

Pea story Babs was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily apprising a basket of freshly picked green peas.

I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. and t he ragged boy next to me. "Hello Barry, how are you today?" "H'lo, Mr. . Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas. Sure look good." "They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?" "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time." "Good. Anything I can help you with?" "No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas." "Would you like to take some home?" "No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with." "Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?" "All I got's my prize marble here." "Is that right? Let me see it." < SPAN style="FONT-SIZE: 10pt; COLOR: maroon; FONT-FAMILY: 'Comic Sans MS'"> "Here 'tis. She's a dandy." "I can see that. Hmmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?" "Not zackley. but almost." "Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble." "Sure will. Thanks Mr. ." Mrs. , who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said, "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them f or peas, apples, tomatoes, or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps." I left the stand smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys, and their bartering. Several years went by, each more rapid that the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could. Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts . all very professional looking. They approached Mrs. , standing composed and smiling by her husband's casket. Each of the youn g men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary awkwardly, wiping his eyes. Our turn came to meet Mrs. . I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. With her eyes glistening, she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men who just left were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size....they came to pay their debt." "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho " With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three exquisitely shined red marbles. Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath. Today I wish you a day of ordinary miracles....A fresh pot of coffee you didn't make yourself. An unexpected phone call from an old friend. Green stoplights on your way to work. The fastest line at the grocery store. A good sing-along song on the radio. Your keys right where you left them.