Tuesday
Monday
Sunday
Fulfilling Your Destiny!
David Wilkerson (July 1996)
"What is "destiny"? In simple terms, destiny is God's purpose for your life. It is your appointed or ordained future. Destiny is what God has predetermined you to be and to become, in His divine will.
I get sad when I read of the many godly men and women in Scripture who missed their destiny. God chose a destined work or ministry for each of them - but they ended up aborting His plan. They started out right, moving for a while in the power of their calling. But in the end, they died in shame and ruin - missing God's destiny for their lives!"
Read more HERE.
"What is "destiny"? In simple terms, destiny is God's purpose for your life. It is your appointed or ordained future. Destiny is what God has predetermined you to be and to become, in His divine will.
I get sad when I read of the many godly men and women in Scripture who missed their destiny. God chose a destined work or ministry for each of them - but they ended up aborting His plan. They started out right, moving for a while in the power of their calling. But in the end, they died in shame and ruin - missing God's destiny for their lives!"
Read more HERE.
Saturday
As the Salvation Army turns 150, what role does it have to play in secular society? Conclusion
Martin Fletcher - former foreign editor of the Times
- From FSAOF.blogspot.co.uk
From
Buckingham Palace to Harlem's ghetto, from
Sydney's Quayside to Hong Kong's tenements, from Moscow's Gorky Park to
Kiev’s
bloodied quarters, the Salvation Army brings the offer of healing to
mind, body and soul; a new life of hope rooted in God’s eternal promises
through Jesus Christ - but for how much longer?
Dr. Sven Ljungholm FSAOF, UK
On any given Sunday thirty years ago, Regent Hall held three services, and 500 worshippers would fill the old ice rink. Today it holds two and attracts roughly 150 people. But, like many other corps, it is trying to reach out. It has opened a coffee shop for weary shoppers, launched a community gospel choir, and still sends a brass band down Oxford Street on Sundays to entice people in.
Major
Beryl’s father was “promoted to glory” while marching to the Cenotaph
one Remembrance Sunday, but she kept coming. “Oh yes,” she chuckled.
“This place has given me a lot to be grateful for.”
If you're in London the weekend of July 1st, come join us as we celebrate our 150th year of Christian service in another memorable milestone making march down the Mall - 15,000 Salvationists from 126 countries will be on hand to wish you welcome and God's blessings!
- From FSAOF.blogspot.co.uk
Dr. Sven Ljungholm FSAOF, UK
Conclusion
The Army is ageing as well as shrinking. There is little new blood – most officers I met came from Salvationist families, and some were third- or fourth-generation Salvationists. They
were overwhelmingly white, a conspicuous exception being Commissioner
Adams, a mixed-race South African. Adams, 58, is a fourth-generation
Salvationist who was raised in Cape Town under apartheid, joined the
Army at seven and is married to an Abba-loving Norwegian, Marianne, who
leads the Army’s women’s ministries in Britain.
He is a likeable, self-effacing man who discourages people from using his title. After becoming territorial commander in 2013 he relinquished his driver so that the man could minister instead. Adams earns scarcely £1,000 a month, only about £300 more than his officers, and he finds his smart, Army-owned flat near Tower Bridge embarrassing. “We could easily move into a council flat down the road,” he said.
He is a likeable, self-effacing man who discourages people from using his title. After becoming territorial commander in 2013 he relinquished his driver so that the man could minister instead. Adams earns scarcely £1,000 a month, only about £300 more than his officers, and he finds his smart, Army-owned flat near Tower Bridge embarrassing. “We could easily move into a council flat down the road,” he said.
Onward, Christian soldiers: preparing to perk up Oxford Street.
Photo: Tom Pilston for New Statesman |
Adams
is troubled by the falling membership: “An army needs soldiers.”
Addressing the problem is a priority, he said. He believes the Army has
become too inward-looking, complacent, insular, bureaucratic, white and
middle-class. “The further from the source of a river, the more
polluted the waters become. The further from the source of the movement,
the harder it is to maintain that movement’s purity,” he said. “It’s
been 150 years from our start so it’s a challenge for us to keep our
principles and our focus alive . . . We need to get people back to
basics. We’re not where we should be.”
He agrees that the Army should consider more fashionable uniforms and that it
should reach out to gay people and racial minorities. “We’ve excluded
instead of embracing . . . We’ve failed in our ministry to minorities,”
he said. Adams wants the organisation to be more outspoken on some
issues – the notion that the poor are responsible for their own plight,
for instance – and says its failure to fight apartheid in his homeland
still haunts him.
“We’ve
hidden behind this thing about, ‘We don’t do cold evangelising any
more. We don’t talk about the gospel overtly any more . . .’ We need to
be sharing the good news about Jesus Christ. We’ve been neglecting
this.”
Specifically, Adams wants more crusading soldiers and fewer “pew-warmers”. He would like fewer Salvationists to walk past beggars without stopping. “When we sing those Army war songs it must not just be a metaphor.”
More
churchgoers should work in the charitable programmes, he said, and those
programmes should have a stronger religious component, so that they
address the spiritual as well as the physical needs of their
beneficiaries.
“I
would hope people were transformed, as opposed to changed. A social
programme can change a person’s circumstances, but only the gospel can
change a person from the inside out.
The Salvation Army should be about transformation . . . We need to understand that people really can be changed by the gospel.”
The Salvation Army should be about transformation . . . We need to understand that people really can be changed by the gospel.”
On any given Sunday thirty years ago, Regent Hall held three services, and 500 worshippers would fill the old ice rink. Today it holds two and attracts roughly 150 people. But, like many other corps, it is trying to reach out. It has opened a coffee shop for weary shoppers, launched a community gospel choir, and still sends a brass band down Oxford Street on Sundays to entice people in.
And
just occasionally lives really are transformed. An 83-year-old retired
officer called Major Beryl told me how her father was walking along
Oxford Street in the early 1920s, stopped to listen to the band, and was
invited in. He accepted, found God, fell in love with a member of the
congregation and married her in the Hall. They worshipped there every
Sunday for decades, even during the Second World War when bombs were
falling all around and the glass roof shattered.
If you're in London the weekend of July 1st, come join us as we celebrate our 150th year of Christian service in another memorable milestone making march down the Mall - 15,000 Salvationists from 126 countries will be on hand to wish you welcome and God's blessings!
As the Salvation Army turns 150, what role does it have to play in secular society? Part 3 of 4
Martin Fletcher - former foreign editor of the Times
- From FSAOF.blogspot.co.uk
- From FSAOF.blogspot.co.uk
As part of a government contract, the
Army oversees 27 safehouses to support victims of human trafficking. It
has helped 1,800 victims from 74 countries over the past three years, although
Major Anne Read, who runs the service, said that is a tiny fraction of
those living in “slave-like conditions” in Britain.
She described cases of eastern European and African women, forced into prostitution, locked in darkened rooms for years and raped several times a day.
One of them who became pregnant was simply dumped on a motorway, “like a
piece of rubbish”. She spoke of how men are forced to work all hours
and live in filthy caravans. Families with eight or ten children are
brought to Britain so someone can collect their benefits. Victims seldom
escape, because they lack money, passports, English or any idea where
they are. African women are scared into submission by “juju” ceremonies,
or threats that videos of their prostitution will be sent home to their
family.
“This is a very real manifestation of evil,” Major Read said. “The conditions people reach us in are absolutely shocking.”
They
are profoundly traumatised, physically scarred, and often paranoid.
“It’s appalling that so many people are living like slaves, when we tend
to think that slavery is a historical issue that ended with William
Wilberforce 200 years ago.” But she prays for the traffickers, and “that
God changes the hearts of wicked men and women”.
The
Army even runs its own bank, the Reliance, which Booth founded in
1890. It refuses to invest in the tobacco, alcohol, gambling or armament
industries, paid its six top managers precisely £4,286 in bonuses last year, and does not issue credit cards lest it encourage debt.
Yet in
one crucial respect today’s Army is very different from Booth’s: it
scarcely evangelises any longer. Its members abhor the idea of
proselytising. Open-air meetings (street meetings) are rare. With its
charitable services mostly now run by professional employees, not
soldiers, it can seem more like an NGO than a religious movement. Just
once during my week with the Army was I asked about my own beliefs.
***
I met
Bev – a warm, intelligent, funny 54-year-old from Essex – at Greig
House, a detox centre near Canary Wharf. She wept as she told me how she
had spent decades fighting drug and alcohol addiction, and of the pain
she’d caused her children. “I love all the people here. They’re the best
in the world,” she said of the centre’s staff. But it was only on this,
her fourth residential course, that she realised they worked for the
Salvation Army.
Army
officers say they are loath to exploit the vulnerable people they help.
“We don’t run our night shelter as a recruiting tool. We run it because
it’s flipping cold outside and we don’t want people to die,” said
Lieutenant John Clifton, whose corps in Ilford, east London, provides
winter dormitory accommodation for 25 homeless men and women. “I don’t
think it’s ethical to take advantage of their physical need.”
Nowadays
the shock troops of the Lord prefer to win converts through compassion
and personal example and by gradually building relationships. “By
stretching out a hand to mankind you’re showing them love and kindness,”
said Major Muriel McClenahan, until recently the head of Territorial
Emergency Services. “Because our motivation comes from faith, it opens
the door to having those conversations [about Jesus]. You hope you’ve
sown the seed that over time will germinate.”
Yet
recruits and converts are hardly pouring in. The Army has 27,183
soldiers in Britain, down from 48,121 two decades ago. The number of
corps has fallen from 823 to 706. The imposing William Booth College,
on Denmark Hill in south London, opened in 1929 to train 800 officer
cadets at a time, but at present it has fewer than 60 taking the
two-year course.
The
Army once boasted several thousand brass bands in the UK, and its own
musical instrument factory in St Albans, but has fewer than 500 today.
Conversely, it now employs 4,800 civilians – four times the number of
officers – to run its social programmes.
As the Salvation Army turns 150, what role does it have to play in secular society? Part 2 of 4
Martin Fletcher - former foreign editor of the Times
- From FSAOF.blogspot.co.uk
- From FSAOF.blogspot.co.uk
Booth
made many enemies. Meetings were frequently attacked by mobs financed by
the brewers and brothel-keepers whose livelihoods the Army threatened.
The female Salvationists’ peaked bonnets were designed to act as
protection from stones.
Respectable
society, too, loathed the “Sally Army”, regarding it as fanatical,
vulgar and ridiculous. Yet Booth, who resembled some long-bearded, Old
Testament prophet in both style and appearance, gloried in persecution.
The Army stirred people’s conscience by highlighting the horrors of the
slums: it gained 10,000 full-time officers within a dozen years of its formation.
By the time Booth died in 1912, aged 83, his organisation had spread
throughout the world and he had met presidents and prime ministers;
65,000 mourners filed past his coffin at Clapton Congress Hall.
The
Salvation Army has since become an integral part of British life, doling
out tea and comfort during the two world wars; offering physical and
spiritual sustenance after disasters and atrocities such as the
terrorist attacks in London in July 2005; and carolling at Christmas. It
is an institution that seems to have been with us for ever, but one
that few know much about – which is why I chose to spend a week
investigating its work.
I visited its churches, shelters and drop-in centres and was shocked by the number of outcasts I met. I interviewed numerous officers – all good, kind, selfless people who were dedicated to helping the desperate. But I also found a great religious movement that, in Britain at least, is shrinking, ageing and, frankly, struggling in this secular age.
“We
need to do a lot better than we are,” Clive Adams, the Army’s British
territorial commander, said when we met at its UK headquarters at
Elephant and Castle, in south London. “Booth was willing to do almost
anything to attain his goals. We need to get back to being less
risk-averse and more bold in achieving ours.”
***
Booth
would still recognise his Army. It remains a quasi-military organisation
with its own (severe) uniform, salute (index finger pointing to
heaven), flag (flown on the moon during the Apollo 16 mission), motto
(“Blood and Fire”), newspaper (the War Cry), ranks (from lieutenants to
generals) and decorations (the Order of the Founder and Order of
Distinguished Auxiliary Service). It enjoys the distinction of having
been banned as a religious organisation by the Bolsheviks in 1923, and
as a paramilitary group by Russia’s government in 2000.
Adams said that the military imagery remains appropriate: “Absolutely we’re at war. We’re in a war against evil, injustice, everything that marginalises people. We’re at war against sin.”
The Army remains an independent Christian church with its own doctrines and ethos. Its places of worship are called “corps”, and are clustered in Britain’s more deprived areas. Established to support the poor and illiterate, they spurn the elaborate trappings of mainstream churches.
The
corps are mostly unadorned halls, without altars, pulpits or silver
crosses – just “mercy seats” at the front where Salvationists can pray
and testify. They have “corps officers”, not ministers, who spurn fancy vestments and theology degrees,
and “songs” and “songsters” rather than hymns, psalms and choristers.
Rousing music is still a central part of their services – “Sing so as to
make the world hear,” Booth urged. There are no christenings, baptisms
or communions, while funerals are celebrations because the deceased have
been “promoted to glory”. The flag is never flown at half-mast.
As in
Booth’s day, the Army’s stated mission is to “save souls, grow saints
and serve suffering humanity”. To Salvationists, good and evil, heaven
and hell, are not abstract notions. Most are genuinely distressed if
friends or relatives die without finding God. Asked to define hell,
Adams said: “Hell is where God isn’t, and to me that’s hell enough.”
Nor
have the Army’s attitudes to social issues changed greatly. It remains a
profoundly conservative organisation that loves sinners but hates their
sins. Its soldiers swear to abstain from alcohol, tobacco, drugs,
gambling, pornography and extramarital sex, and until not so long ago
could not divorce, marry non-officers or have mortgages (a form of
debt). They must give “as large a proportion as possible” of their
income to its ministries (their tithes are called “cartridges”).
Thanks to Catherine Booth, the Army has always
treated male and female officers as equals, but at traditional corps such as Regent Hall many women still tie their hair in buns and wear little or no make-up.
Thanks to Catherine Booth, the Army has always
treated male and female officers as equals, but at traditional corps such as Regent Hall many women still tie their hair in buns and wear little or no make-up.
The Army opposes capital punishment, euthanasia, Sunday labour and abortion, except in extreme cases. It rejects Heritage Lottery Fund money because it opposes any form of gambling. Most controversially, it opposes gay marriage and considers homosexual acts a sin, though it opposes homophobia. “That may send an unfortunate signal,” Adams said. But: “We base ourselves on what we understand the Bible is saying.”
Above
all, a resurrected Booth would applaud the Army’s continuing efforts to
“care for the poor, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, love the
unlovable and befriend those who have no friends”. It is probably the
largest provider of social programmes outside the government – the
precious, ultimate safety net for those who have reached rock bottom.
With annual revenues of £280m, including more than £100m from donations
and legacies, it runs a bewildering array of shelters and hostels, of
detox, employment, training and advice centres, of homes for the elderly
and prison chaplaincies.
It has 20 mobile units that attend major accidents or disasters to provide sustenance, staff reception centres and support the bereaved at mortuaries. It also runs Britain’s largest family-tracing service – a legacy of the “Inquiry Bureau” that Booth’s daughter-in-law set up to find runaway children in Victorian London. Last year it met 1,859 requests from parents of estranged offspring, long-lost siblings, people on their deathbeds and remorseful prison inmates, and it offers mediation when required.
Friday
Christianity Sees Explosive Growth In China
- Eric Metaxas in Prophesy News Watch -
"In 1992, Bei Cun, considered to be one of China’s leading avant-garde writers, did something that really shocked his readers and admirers: He converted to Christianity.
But given the explosive growth of Christianity in China, it shouldn’t be all that surprising....
The Communists, as Osnos tells us, set out to destroy China’s old belief systems, including its small Christian community, and by the time of Mao’s death in 1976 had largely succeeded. Even after Mao’s death, Christians are still subject to harassment, arrest, and imprisonment for practicing their faith.
Yet there are now as many Christians as there are members of the Communist Party. By some estimates there’ll be more Christians in China than in the U.S. by 2030. And this doesn’t take into account the level of commitment required to be a Christian in China. Think about it: being a member of the Communist Party comes with real political and economic benefits. Being a Christian invites discrimination and even a knock on the door in the middle of the night.
Read more HERE.
"In 1992, Bei Cun, considered to be one of China’s leading avant-garde writers, did something that really shocked his readers and admirers: He converted to Christianity.
But given the explosive growth of Christianity in China, it shouldn’t be all that surprising....
The Communists, as Osnos tells us, set out to destroy China’s old belief systems, including its small Christian community, and by the time of Mao’s death in 1976 had largely succeeded. Even after Mao’s death, Christians are still subject to harassment, arrest, and imprisonment for practicing their faith.
Yet there are now as many Christians as there are members of the Communist Party. By some estimates there’ll be more Christians in China than in the U.S. by 2030. And this doesn’t take into account the level of commitment required to be a Christian in China. Think about it: being a member of the Communist Party comes with real political and economic benefits. Being a Christian invites discrimination and even a knock on the door in the middle of the night.
Read more HERE.
Thursday
As the Salvation Army turns 150, what role does it have to play in secular society? Part 1 of 4
Faith
is still central and the Army’s attitudes to social issues haven't changed
greatly. But some of its members want to do more.
Photo: Universal History Archive/Getty Images |
William Booth, “the Founder”, began life as a preacher in the Methodist tradition and took an unashamedly militant approach to tackling social evils.
One
evening last January, gusts of icy wind and rain rollicked down Oxford Street
in the West End of London, causing passers-by to seek refuge in brightly lit
department stores. I, however, ducked into an inconspicuous doorway opposite
BHS, entering a world far removed from the shoppers’ paradise outside. The door
led to Regent Hall, Oxford Street’s only church. This was an ice rink until
William Booth, the founder of the Salvation Army, converted it into a place of
worship in 1882. The large, balconied auditorium was empty and dark, but there
was activity outside the back entrance. As many as 30 homeless men, whom Booth
would have described as “the least, the last and the lost”, were waiting for a
Salvation Army drop-in centre to open.
They
were jobless, destitute rough sleepers who spend the nights in doorways or on
buses, overcoated and woolly-hatted in futile defiance of the cold, their few
belongings crammed into bin bags or old backpacks. Among them were alcoholics,
drug addicts, the physically sick and mentally disturbed. A few barely spoke
English. Occasionally former soldiers turn up here, suffering from
post-traumatic stress disorder, or defeated by unregimented life. “Some cases
really get to you, especially when there’s very little you can do,” said Heidi
Soljava-Duprat, the cheerful Finn who runs the centre. “It’s sad that we’re in
2015 and the problems are still the same as in Booth’s time.”
The
doors opened at 5.30pm, giving the human flotsam a brief respite from the elements.
Some sat in groups; others kept to themselves. They ate food donated by
Nando’s, Eat and Starbucks. Volunteers handed out blankets, clothing and shoes
and offered compassion and advice. For a few hours these men were treated with
respect. A silver-haired Syrian who once worked for the BBC’s Arabic Service
cried as he told me how he spends nights in churches since his wife ejected
him. “This place is like my family home. It gives me great comfort.”
At
8pm the centre closed. The men lingered to the last minute. One or two begged –
in vain – to stay. Watching them disappear into the night was “horrendous”,
Soljava-Duprat said. A man called Kenny showed me his bag. “This is my pillow,”
he said. “And these,” he added, tugging at his clothes, “are my bed.”
***
When
Booth founded the Salvation Army 150 years ago next month, he offered the
destitute “soup, soap and salvation”, but the food and shelter this evening
came with no quid pro quo. The Oxford Street centre did not offer its visitors
salvation. Soljava-Duprat hoped that by showing them love and compassion they
might turn to God of their own accord, but “no one is forced to receive
the message”, she said. “Our job is to get them to a point where they can
decide for themselves whether they’re ready to accept some kind of faith.”
A
pawnbroker’s apprentice who became one of the most compelling revivalist
preachers of his age, Booth had no such compunction. Saving souls was his
life’s work. “The Founder” and his redoubtable wife, Catherine, the “Mother of the
Army”, pursued that goal with extraordinary single-mindedness. They targeted
the poor, the marginalised, the friendless and the fallen – those rejected by
the established churches of Victorian Britain – constantly totting up the
numbers brought to God.
Open-air meetings, brass bands, rallies outside bars and brothels, testimony from redeemed sinners: Booth did whatever was necessary to attract their attention. He took bawdy music-hall songs, changed the words and turned them into stirring hymns. He connived with the editor of the Pall Mall Gazette to buy a 13-year-old girl for £5 to expose the scandal of child prostitution. For Booth the “soup” and the “soap” were a means, salvation the end. “To reach the people whom we could not reach by any other means, we gave the hungry wretches a meal and then talked to them about God and eternity,” he wrote.
It´s Thursday (28)
'Judah then said to his daughter-in-law
Tamar, 'Live as a widow in your father's house until my son Shelah grows up,'
(Genesis 38:11). Living with a wicked man like Er, life could not have been
easy for Tamar. As a result of his wickedness he died, leaving her childless, a
cause of great shame for a woman back then. In those days, (hundreds of years
before it was incorporated into law as recorded in see Deuteronomy 25:5), it
was the custom that, should a married man die without leaving an heir, his next
youngest brother was expected to marry his brother's widow and to have their
first son recognised as the legitimate son of the deceased brother, (see also
Mark 12:18-23).
There was a stigma attached to refusing
this obligation, so Er's next youngest brother Onan agreed to his father
Judah's request for him to do his duty as Tamar's brother-in-law. This he did
despite him having no intention to fulfil his obligation. He was not happy that
a child conceived through him would not be his, and was dishonest in his
dealings with his father and deceitful in his treatment of Tamar as a
consequence, (see v 8,9). As with his older brother, Onan's wickedness resulted
in his death.
This left one remaining son, Shelah on
whom the obligation now fell to produce an heir for his eldest brother. Now he
was too young to marry so Judah told his daughter-in-law to 'live as a widow,'
in her father's house until his son was old enough. This she did. Years passed
and even when Shelah was old enough to marry Tamar, she was still not given his
hand. Whether deliberate or through negligence Judah didn't do right by her and
she obviously felt deeply wounded by it. When we feel that time and again life
has treated us unjustly we, like Tamar, can so easily be tempted to do whatever
it takes to get what we feel we justly deserve. But the ends never justifies
the means. Whilst we might not be tempted to prostitute ourselves like Tamar
was, is giving way to a temptation and committing a sin that appears less serious
in our own eyes any better? Sin is sin. God bless you all.
Monday
Prayer That Is Pleasing to the Lord
David Wilkerson (February 1996)
"I want to talk to you today about a kind of prayer that is most pleasing to the Lord. You see, not all of our praying blesses the heart of God. Yet, with the help of the Holy Spirit, I trust that what I share with you here will change the way you pray - from now until Jesus comes!
I have no intention of complicating prayer. It has been made too complicated already by well-intentioned teachers who have turned it into formulas, strategies and theatrics. Some Christians literally put on combat boots and uniforms to dress the part of "prayer warriors." Others attend prayer meetings where they are given "prayer guides," booklets that tell them how to fill up the hours they'll be there.
I am not condemning any of this. But I would like to show you the kind of praying I believe pleases the Lord most. Actually, the kind of prayer that most pleases God is very simple and easy to understand. It is so simple, in fact, a little child can pray in a way that pleases Him."
Read more HERE.
"I want to talk to you today about a kind of prayer that is most pleasing to the Lord. You see, not all of our praying blesses the heart of God. Yet, with the help of the Holy Spirit, I trust that what I share with you here will change the way you pray - from now until Jesus comes!
I have no intention of complicating prayer. It has been made too complicated already by well-intentioned teachers who have turned it into formulas, strategies and theatrics. Some Christians literally put on combat boots and uniforms to dress the part of "prayer warriors." Others attend prayer meetings where they are given "prayer guides," booklets that tell them how to fill up the hours they'll be there.
I am not condemning any of this. But I would like to show you the kind of praying I believe pleases the Lord most. Actually, the kind of prayer that most pleases God is very simple and easy to understand. It is so simple, in fact, a little child can pray in a way that pleases Him."
Read more HERE.
Hymns Vs Choruses
From An old farmer went to the city one weekend and attended the big city church. He came home and his wife asked him how it was.
"Well," said the farmer, "it was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of hymns."
"Praise choruses?" said his wife. "What are those?"
"Oh, they're OK. They are sort of like hymns, only different," said the farmer.
"Well, what's the difference?" asked his wife.
The farmer said, "Well, it's like this - If I were to say to you: "Martha, the cows are in the corn"' - well, that would be a hymn. If on the other hand, I were to say to you:
'Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh Martha, MARTHA, MARTHA, the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows the white cows, the black and white cows, the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, the CORN, CORN, CORN.'
Then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well, that would be a praise chorus."
The next weekend.....
Read more HERE.
"Well," said the farmer, "it was good. They did something different, however. They sang praise choruses instead of hymns."
"Praise choruses?" said his wife. "What are those?"
"Oh, they're OK. They are sort of like hymns, only different," said the farmer.
"Well, what's the difference?" asked his wife.
The farmer said, "Well, it's like this - If I were to say to you: "Martha, the cows are in the corn"' - well, that would be a hymn. If on the other hand, I were to say to you:
'Martha, Martha, Martha, Oh Martha, MARTHA, MARTHA, the cows, the big cows, the brown cows, the black cows the white cows, the black and white cows, the COWS, COWS, COWS are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, are in the corn, the CORN, CORN, CORN.'
Then, if I were to repeat the whole thing two or three times, well, that would be a praise chorus."
The next weekend.....
Read more HERE.
Unique images reveal ISIS retreat
- Inblick -
"Late last week, Islamic State was driven out from the Khabour area in Eastern Syria. The terrorist group left mines in houses, fields and buildings with words sprayed on them saying: "This is the Islamic State property." "According to the Caliphate rules, it means that when the Islamists have taken control of the area. They have the right to kill those who go in and claim the buildings, even if it’s the people who actually own the houses," says Nuri Kino from the organization "A Demand For Action ".
Read more HERE.
"Late last week, Islamic State was driven out from the Khabour area in Eastern Syria. The terrorist group left mines in houses, fields and buildings with words sprayed on them saying: "This is the Islamic State property." "According to the Caliphate rules, it means that when the Islamists have taken control of the area. They have the right to kill those who go in and claim the buildings, even if it’s the people who actually own the houses," says Nuri Kino from the organization "A Demand For Action ".
Read more HERE.
Sunday
It's all about attitude
Someone sent me this e-mail:
Jerry is
the manager of a restaurant in South Philly. He is always in a good mood and
always has something positive to say.
When
someone would ask him "how he was doing", he would always reply,
"If I were any better, I would be twins!"
Many of the
waiters at his restaurant quit their jobs when he changed jobs, so they could
follow him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason he waiters followed
Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was
having a bad day, Jerry was always there,
telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.
telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation.
Seeing this
style really made me curious. So, one day, I went up to Jerry and asked him,
"I don't get it! No one can be a positive person all the time. How do you
do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, I
have two choices today, I can choose to be in a good mood or I can choose to be in a bad mood. I always choose to be in a good mood. Each time
something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from
it. I always choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining,
I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side
of life. I always choose the positive side of life."
"But
it's not always that easy," I protested.
"Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. It's your choice how you live your life."
Several years later, I heard that Jerry accidentally did something you are never supposed to do in the restaurant business: he left the back door of his restaurant open one morning and was robbed by three armed men. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness slipped off
the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found quickly and rushed to the hospital. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks
of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.
I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Want to see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what
had gone through his mind as the robbery took place.
"The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, after they shot me, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or choose to die. I chose to live."
"Weren't you scared?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the Emergency Room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'He's a dead man.'
I knew I needed to take action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything." 'Yes,' I replied.
The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!'
"Yes, it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good mood or bad mood. It's your choice how you live your life."
Several years later, I heard that Jerry accidentally did something you are never supposed to do in the restaurant business: he left the back door of his restaurant open one morning and was robbed by three armed men. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness slipped off
the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found quickly and rushed to the hospital. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks
of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body.
I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Want to see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what
had gone through his mind as the robbery took place.
"The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, after they shot me, as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live or choose to die. I chose to live."
"Weren't you scared?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the Emergency Room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read 'He's a dead man.'
I knew I needed to take action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything." 'Yes,' I replied.
The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!'
Over their
laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Please operate on me as if I am
alive, not dead'." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but
also because of his amazing attitude.
I learned
from him that every day you have the choice to either enjoy your life or to
hate it. The only thing that is truly yours -- that no one can control or take
from you - is your attitude, so if you can take care of that, everything else
in life becomes much easier.
Now you have
two choices to make:
1. You can
just close the browser now and leave this message where it is OR
2. You can
forward it and still keep in touch with your friends.
I hope you
will choose #2. I did because you are my
friend.
friend.
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