Category: Stories

If you will spend some time each day Just listening to God’s voice He’ll tell you what you need to do And in His words, rejoice. He wills you to go through each day Reaching out to those in need To share your faith with those still lost He’s with you and He’ll lead. He gives the words you need to say Through the Spirit who dwells within And by your witness to them Someone lost might turn from sin. If by your words they realize There’s a better way for them Introduce them to your Savior And the life...

Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic. One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. “Why, he’s hardly taller than my eight-year-old,” I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face – lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, “Good evening. I’ve come to...

During the waning years of the depression in a small south eastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller’s roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively. One particular day Mr. Miller 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...

A promise of life abundant In God’s Word I found My sin I confessed, He forgave, My life I asked, His life He gave, Freedom I asked, victory He gave, Help I asked, His power He gave. My life He changed, thanks I gave, Power He gave, now Him I serve, I live for Him, I share His love, My deeds are changed, His glory they tell. And in my life is joy and peace, Full to the brim, my life in Him.

My son Gilbert was eight years old and had been in Cub Scouts only a short time. During one of his meetings he was handed a sheet of paper, a block of wood and four tires and told to return home and give all to “dad”. That was not an easy task for Gilbert to do. Dad was not receptive to doing things with his son. But Gilbert tried. Dad read the paper and scoffed at the idea of making a pine wood derby car with his young, eager son. The block of wood remained untouched as the weeks passed....