What side of the Cross are you on?

Last week we began a series at our Men's meeting which included a message by Neal Jeffery. He encouraged us with a "pep talk" about the importance of standing tall and proclaiming the name of Jesus to our families and using His leading Holy Spirit in our lives. It was a powerful message of the role that Men play in the lives of their children. We must not falter from the course, we must show them in both actions and words that we "Believe."

This week we will continue the Men at the Cross series and be blessed by a message from Joe White. He speaks of the day our Lord died on that Cross between two criminals. I listened to the message several times over the last two days and cannot get past the insight that Joe provides.

Picture three crosses;

In the center is Jesus, the perfect lamb, not deserving to be on that cross, and with the ability at any moment to stop what was happening. He was the ultimate sacrifice, He was taking on my sin, my shame, my punishment. He was showing me the ultimate Love. He endured that which I could not.

On the left there was a loud and viscous man. He was angry, and mocking. He knew who Jesus was but he mocked Him, he told him if he were who Jesus said he was then he should get down off that cross and save Himself. Even in the last moments of life this criminal refused to see Jesus for who He really is. He was looking at the opportunity for redemption and peace, but his eyes were so clouded with anger that he failed to trust. He must have seen the miracles, or at least heard of them, or perhaps he was too busy to notice.

On the right was a man who accepted his punishment, rebuking the man on the left saying "we deserve this punishment, we are guilty, but Jesus is innocent." He realized his shame and guilt and sought forgiveness. He was not loud, he was ready to trust. Was he weak? Absolutely not! He defended Jesus with his words as the crowd around them hurled insults. This man finally got it, in the midst of his pain he found peace.

Two very different points of view, one loud and mocking, and one humble and seeking forgiveness and peace. As Joe White states, there are only two sides, either you are on the right side seeking Jesus and Forgiveness, or you are on the left side trying to do it all alone. If you are not seeking Jesus and on the right side then you are on the other side. There is but two choices.

Now I ask you to take a moment and consider which side you are on.

If you say that you are on the right side, do you actions show it. Are you doing the things that shed a good light on being a follower of Jesus?

I can speak for myself, I have fallen short.

Praise Jesus for his long suffering, bearing mercy for my inadequacies.

Tonight we will be meeting at the Krassons at 6:30 and listening to the message from Joe White, if you are able we would sure enjoy your company at the meeting. If anyone is in need of a ride, please email me at cbeecham@misericordia.edu

Your Tongue, Is It An Encourager Or A Deflator?

The Lord has Blessed us all with a wonderful gift. The gift of communication. Just imagine what it would be like if you could not communicate. You could not tell your child "I Love You". Think about that! Never hearing it spoken to you, "I Love You". Close you eyes for a moment and think about softly telling someone that you love, I Love You. It brings a tear to my eye to think of what life would be like without communication.

Now imagine what it would be like to have never been belittled, or made fun of. The ill feeling as a child of being the brunt of someone's joke. Of course that we could do without.

We have been truely Blessed with the gift of communication. God has given us a tongue which can be an encourager or a deflator. You have the freedom to choose. Do you wish to show Love or Hate. Scripture reminds us of the evil that can be done with the tongue. For this reason we must keep a constant check on our Tongues. Please remember when you speak to you children you must always be an encourager, their skin is not as thick as you might think.

Here is a story that is eye opening, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.


A Little Boys Temper


There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the fence.

The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the
next few weeks, as he learned to control his anger, the number of
nails hammered daily gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn't lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.

The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said "you have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one."

You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won't matter how many times you say I'm sorry, the wound is still there. A verbal wound is as bad as a physical one. Friends are a very rare jewel, indeed. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear, they share a word of praise, and they always want to open their hearts to us.

Make sure you control your temper the next time you are tempted to say something you will regret later.

Seeing Beneath The Surface

On Wednesday February 6, 2008 we met once again for a night of fellowship and study.

We finished up a series on Adolph Coors IV. His testimony is truely inspiring. Mr. Coors has attained that which so many are searching for. The special something that would fill the void in his heart that is available to all who ask. That which I am writing about, amazingly is something that even a wealthy, powerful, influential man like Mr. Coors could not work for or buy.

The idea that we all have the capabilities to fill this void just by merely asking the Lord Jesus Christ to come into our hearts, becomes a stumbling block for many. I myself am guilty of stumbling for a period of time.
I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ for filling my void and for granting me the peace in the knowledge that one day I will see His face.

All I had to do was STOP and be still and know that Jesus is God.

Take a moment and meditate on the scripture "Be still and know that I am God.

Friends I tell you it is true, Jesus is Lord.

On Wednesday February 13, 2008 we will once again meet at 6:30 at the Krasson's. We will be sharing the testimony of Serge LeClair. It is a thought provoking story of his life and how he came to the be saved.Take a moment and read the story below. It is a common story of someone like Serge, a kid who grew up on the street.


The Tattooed Stranger


He was kind of scary. He sat there on the grass with his cardboard sign, his dog (actually his dog was adorable) and tattoos running up and down both arms and even on his neck. His sign proclaimed him to be "stuck and hungry" and to please help. I'm a sucker for anyone needing help. My husband both hates and loves this quality in me.

I pulled the van over and in my rearview mirror, contemplated this man, tattoos and all. He was youngish, maybe forty. He wore one of those bandannas tied over his head, biker/pirate style. Anyone could see he was dirty and had a scraggly beard. But if you looked closer, you could see that he had neatly tucked in the black T-shirt, and his things were in a small, tidy bundle. Nobody was stopping for him. I could see the other drivers take one look and immediately focus on something else - anything else. It was so hot out. I could see in the man's very blue eyes how dejected and tired and worn-out he felt.

The sweat was trickling down his face. As I sat with the air-conditioning blowing, the scripture suddenly popped into my head. "In as much as ye have done it unto the least of these, my brethren, so ye have done it unto me." I reached down into my purse and extracted a ten dollar bill. My twelve-year old son, Nick knew right away what I was doing. "Can I take it to him, Mom?" "Be careful, honey." I warned and handed him the money. I watched in the mirror as he rushed over to the man, and with a shy smile, handed it to him. I saw the man, startled, stand and take the money, putting it into his back pocket. "Good," I thought to myself, "now he will at least have a hot meal tonight."

I felt satisfied, proud of myself. I had made a sacrifice and now I could go on with my errands. When Nick got back into the car, he looked at me with sad, pleading eyes. "Mom, his dog looks so hot and the man is really nice." I knew I had to do more. "Go back and tell him to stay there, that we will be back in fifteen minutes," I told Nick. He bounded out of the car and ran to tell the tattooed stranger.

We then ran to the nearest store and bought our gifts carefully. "It can't be too heavy," I explained to the children. "He has to be able to carry it around with him."

We finally settled on our purchases. A bag of "Ol' Roy" (I hoped it was good - it looked good enough for me to eat! How do they make dog food look that way?); a flavored chew-toy shaped like a bone; a water dish, bacon flavored snacks (for the dog); two bottles of water (one for the dog, one for Mr.Tattoos); and some people snacks for the man.

We rushed back to the spot where we had left him, and there he was, still waiting. And still nobody else was stopping for him. With hands shaking, I grabbed our bags and climbed out of the car, all four of my children following me, each carrying gifts.

As we walked up to him, I had a fleeting moment of fear, hoping he wasn't a serial killer. I looked into his eyes and saw something that startled me and made me ashamed of my judgment. I saw tears. He was fighting like a little boy to hold back his tears.

How long had it been since someone showed this man kindness? I told him I hoped it wasn't too heavy for him to carry and showed him what we had brought. He stood there, like a child at Christmas, and I felt like my small contributions were so inadequate.

When I took out the water dish, he snatched it out of my hands as if it were solid gold and told me he had had no way to give his dog water. He gingerly set it down, filled it with the bottled water we brought, and stood up to look directly into my eyes. His were so blue, so intense and my own filled with tears as he said "Ma'am, I don't know what to say."

He then put both hands on his bandanna clad head and just started to cry. This man, this "scary" man, was so gentle, so sweet, so humble. I smiled through my tears and said "Don't say anything."

Then I noticed the tattoo on his neck. It said "Mama tried."

As we all piled into the van and drove away, he was on his knees,
arms around his dog, kissing his nose and smiling. I waved cheerfully and
then fully broke down in tears. I have so much. My worries seem so trivial and petty now. I have a home, a loving husband, four beautiful children.
I have a bed. I wondered where he would sleep tonight.

My step-daughter, Brandie turned to me and said in the sweetest little- girl voice, "I feel so good."

Although it seemed as if we had helped him, the man with the tattoos gave us a gift that I will never forget. He taught that no matter what the outside looks like, inside each of us is a human being deserving of kindness, of compassion, of acceptance. He opened my heart. Tonight and every night I will pray for the gentleman with the tattoos and his dog.

And I will hope that God will send more people like him into my life to remind me what's really important.


Copyright 1999 by Susan Fahncke
E-mail - Susan@2theheart.com