The Perfect Church

If you should find the Perfect Church
Without one fault or smear,
For goodness sake, don’t join that church,
You’d spoil the atmosphere.

But since no perfect church exists
Where people never sin
Let’s cease in looking for that church,
And love the one we’re in!

If we tried to apply that philosophy within our family, our
friendships or our place of work, what a difference it could
make!!

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

 

The Holy Spirit

The following envisionment is based upon a series of lectures about the Holy Spirit given by Kathryn Kuhlman in 1947 (the year I was born).

Kathryn said:-

“I see in my mind the three persons of the Trinity sitting down at a great conference table before the formation of the Earth ever took place.

God, the Holy Father, gave the others the news that even though He would create men to have fellowship with Him, that man would sin; and break that Fellowship.

The only way Fellowship could then be restored would be for someone to pay the price for that sin. For if another did not pay it, then man himself would have to continue to pay the price in unhappiness, disease, death, and eventually hell.

After the Holy Father finished sharing, His Son Jesus spoke up and said, ‘I’ll go. I’ll take the form of a man and go down to Earth to pay that price.  I’ll be willing to die on the cross so that man can be restored to perfect fellowship with us.’

Then Jesus turned to the holy spirit and said, ‘But I cannot go unless you go with me; for you are the one with the power.’

The Holy Spirit responded and said, ‘You go ahead and when the time is right, I shall join you on Earth.’

So Jesus came to Earth, was born in a manger, and grew to manhood. But, even though He was the very Son of God, He was powerless.

Then came that magnificent moment at the River Jordan when Jesus, coming up out of the baptismal waters, looked up and saw the Holy Spirit descending upon Him in the form of a dove.

It must have been one of the greatest thrills that Jesus received as He walked in the flesh on this Earth. And I can almost hear the Holy Spirit whisper in His ear, ‘I’m here now. We’re running right on schedule. Now things will really begin to happen.’

And they did happen. Filled with the Spirit, He was suddenly empowered to heal the sick, cause the blind to see, and even raise the dead. It was the time for miracles. For three years they continued, and then, at the end, the Bible says that He gave up the ghost, and the Spirit returned to the Holy Father.

After Jesus was in the grave for three days, that mighty third person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit, returned.

Jesus came out of the grave in a glorified body. He performed no more miracles during the short time He was here, but He gave His followers a great promise; the greatest promise of all in the Bible.

He said that same Holy Spirit who had lived in Him would return to live in all those who opened their lives to His power. The same things that He, Jesus, had done. His followers would do, also.

In fact, even greater things would be done because now the Holy Spirit would not be limited to one body, but would be free to enter all those everywhere who would receive Him.

The last words He said before He went away were,  ‘And you shall receive power after that the Holy Ghost is come upon you.’

God the Father had given him Him the gift. Now He was passing it on to the Church. Every church should be experiencing the miracles of Pentecost. Every church should be seeing the healings of the Book of Acts. This gift is for all of us.”

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Please take time to read – and inwardly digest – this very powerful teaching.

Yours, in Christ

Geoffrey

 

Psalm 61 – new Biblical Word Search

Marlene (my wife) has just devised another word search based upon Psalm 61.

To freely download this new Biblical Word Search please go to:-

http://christianwordsearches.net/Psalm61.html

This word search will really challenge your Biblical mind!

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

Daffodils

I think you’ll find this story very uplifting:-

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say…”Mother, you must come see the daffodils before they are over.”

I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead. “I will come next Tuesday, ” I promised, a little reluctantly, on her third call. Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy.

Still, I had promised, and so I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn’s house and hugged and greeted my grandchildren. I said, “Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in the clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see bad enough to drive another inch!”

My daughter smiled calmly,” We drive in this all the time, Mother.”

“Well, you won’t get me back on the road until it clears–and then I’m heading for home!” I assured her.

“I was hoping you’d take me over to the garage to pick up my car.

“How far will we have to drive?

“Just a few blocks,” Carolyn said, “I’ll drive. “I’m used to this.”

After several minutes I had to ask “Where are we going? This isn’t the way to the garage!”

“We’re going to my garage the long way,” Carolyn smiled, “by way of the daffodils.”

“Carolyn,” I said sternly, “please turn around.”

“It’s all right, Mother,I promise, you will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience.” After about twenty minutes we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church.

On the far side of the church I saw a hand-lettered sign “Daffodil Garden.”

We got out of the car and each took a child’s hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then we turned a corner of the path, and I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight. It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it down over the mountain peak and slopes.

The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, saffron, and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted as a group so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. Five acres of flowers.

“But who has done this?” I asked Carolyn.

“It’s just one woman”, Carolyn answered. “She lives on the property. That’s her home.” Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house that looked small and modest in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house. On the patio we saw a poster.

“Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking” was the headline.

The first answer was a simple one. “50,000 bulbs,” it read. The second answer was,”one at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and very little brain.” The third answer was, “Began in 1958.” There it was. The Daffodil Principle.

For me that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than thirty-five years before, had begun — one bulb at a time to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountain top. Still, just planting one bulb at a time, year after year, had changed the world. This unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. She had created something of ineffable magnificence, beauty, and inspiration.

The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the greatest principles of celebration: learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time – often just one baby-step at a time — learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world.

“It makes me sad in a way,” I admitted to Carolyn. “What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five years ago and had worked away at it ‘one bulb at a time through all those years. Just think what I might have been able to achieve!”

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her direct way. “Start tomorrow,” she said.

It’s so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson, a celebration instead of a cause for regret, is to only ask, “How can I put this to use today?”

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

Puppy Size

This is one of the neatest stories you will ever hear. You will know precisely what this little girl is talking about at the end (you’ll want to share this one with your loved ones and special friends)!

‘Danielle keeps repeating it over and over again.. We’ve been back to this animal shelter at least five times. It has been weeks now since we started all of this,’ the mother told the volunteer.

‘What is it she keeps asking for?’ the volunteer asked.

‘Puppy size!’ replied the mother

‘Well, we have plenty of puppies, if that’s what she’s looking for..’ ‘I know….. We have seen most of them, ‘ the mom said in frustration…

Just then Danielle came walking into the office

‘Well, did you find one?’ asked her mom.

‘No, not this time,’ Danielle said with sadness in her voice. ‘Can we come back on the weekend?’

The two women looked at each other, shook their heads and laughed

‘You never know when we will get more dogs.. Unfortunately, there’s always a supply,’ the volunteer said.

Danielle took her mother by the hand and headed to the door. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll find one this weekend,’ she said.

Over the next few days both Mom and Dad had long conversations with her. They both felt she was being too particular. ‘It’s this weekend or we’re not looking any more,’ Dad finally said in frustration.

‘We don’t want to hear anything more about puppy size, either,’ Mom added.

Sure enough, they were the first ones in the shelter on Saturday morning . By now Danielle knew her way around, so she ran right for the section that housed the smaller dogs.

Tired of the routine, mom sat in the small waiting room at the end of the first row of cages. There was an observation window so you could see the animals during times when

Visitors weren’t permitted.

Danielle walked slowly from cage to cage, kneeling periodically to take a closer look.. One by one the dogs were brought out and she held each one.

One by one she said, ‘Sorry, but you’re not the one.’

It was the last cage on this last day in search of the perfect pup. The volunteer opened the cage door and the child carefully picked up the dog and held it closely. This time she took a little longer.

‘Mom, that’s it! I found the right puppy! He’s the one! I know it!’ She screamed with joy. ‘It’s the puppy size!’

‘But it’s the same size as all the other puppies you held over the last few weeks,’ Mom said.

‘No not size… The sighs.. When I held him in my arms, he sighed,’ she said.

‘Don’t you remember? When I asked you one day what love is, you told me love depends on the sighs of your heart. The more you love, the bigger the sigh!’

The two women looked at each other for a moment. Mom didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. As she stooped down to hug the child, she did a little of both.

‘Mom, every time you hold me, I sigh. When you and Daddy come home from work and hug each other, you both sigh. I knew I would find the right puppy if it sighed when I held it in my arms,’ she said. Then, holding the puppy up close to her face, she said, ‘Mom, he loves me. I heard the sighs of his heart!’

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

The Spirit of Christ – new Biblical Word Search

I have just uploaded a new Biblical Word Search ‘The Spirit of Christ’ to our Christian Word Searches Website.

To freely download the Word Search onto your computer please go to:-

http://christianwordsearches.net/TheSpiritofChrist.html

 

The Word Search, has been created through the Biblical mind of my lovely wife, Marlene

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey

 

Christmas Eve

Yes, I do know that we have some months still to go until Christmas arrives again but I have just come across this wonderfully uplifting story which I wish to share with you all:-
The old man sat in his gas station on a cold Christmas Eve. He hadn’t been anywhere in years since his wife had passed away. He had no decorations, no tree, no lights. It was just another day to him. He didn’t hate Christmas, just couldn’t find a reason to celebrate. There were no children in his life. His wife had gone.

He was sitting there looking at the snow that had been falling for the last hour and wondering what it was all about when the door opened up and a homeless man stepped through. Instead of throwing the man out, George, Old George as he was known by his customers, told the man to come in and sit by the space heater and warm up.

“Thank you, but I don’t mean to intrude,” said the stranger. “I see you’re busy. I’ll just go.”

“Not without something hot in your belly,” George said. He turned and opened a wide mouth Thermos and handed it to the stranger. “It ain’t much, but it’s hot and tasty. Stew. Made it myself. When you’re done, there’s coffee and it’s fresh.”

Just at that moment he heard the “ding” of the driveway bell. “Excuse me, be right back,” George said. There in the driveway was an old ’53 Chevy. Steam was rolling out of the front. The driver was panicked.

“Mister, can you help me?” said the driver with a deep Spanish accent. “My wife is with child and my car is broken.” George opened the hood. It was bad. The block looked cracked from the cold; the car was dead.

“You ain’t going in this thing. George said as he turned away.

“But mister. Please help…” The door of the office closed behind George as he went in. George went to the office wall and got the keys to his old truck, and went back outside. He walked around the building and opened the garage, started the truck and drove it around to where the couple was waiting.

“Here, take my truck,” he said. “She ain’t the best thing you’ve ever looked at, but she runs real good.” George helped put the woman in the truck and watched as it sped off into the night. George turned and walked back inside the office.

“Glad I gave ’em the truck. Their tires were shot, too. That ‘ol truck has brand new…” George thought he was talking to the stranger, but the man had gone. The Thermos was on the desk, empty with a used coffee cup beside it. “Well, at least he got something in his belly,” George thought.

George went back outside to see if the old Chevy would start. It cranked slowly, but it started. He pulled it into the garage where the truck had been. He thought he would tinker with it for something to do. Christmas Eve meant no customers. He discovered the block hadn’t cracked, it was just the bottom hose on the radiator. “Well, shoot, I can fix this,” he said to himself. So he put a new one on. “Those tires ain’t gonna get ’em through the winter either.” He took the snow treads off of his wife’s old Lincoln. They were like new and he wasn’t going to drive the car.

As he was working, he heard shots being fired. He ran outside and beside a police car an officer lay on the cold ground. Bleeding from the left shoulder, the officer moaned, “Help me!”

George helped the officer inside as he remembered the training he had received in the Army as a medic. He knew the wound needed attention. “Pressure to stop the bleeding,” he thought. The uniform company had been there that morning and had left clean shop towels. He used those and duct tape to bind the wound.

“Hey, they say duct tape can fix anything,” he said, trying to make the policeman feel at ease. “Something for the pain,” George thought. All he had was the pills he used for his back. “These oughta work.” He put some water in a cup and gave the policeman the pills. “You hang in there. I’m gonna get you an ambulance.” The phone was dead. “Maybe I can get one of your buddies on that there talk box out in your car.”

He went out only to find that a bullet had gone into the dashboard destroying the two-way radio. He went back in to find the policeman sitting up. “Thanks,” said the officer. “You could’ve left me out there. The guy that shot me is still in the area.”

George sat down beside him. “I would never leave an injured man in the Army and I ain’t gonna leave you.” George pulled back the bandage to check for bleeding. “Looks worse than it is. Bullet passed right through ya. Good thing it missed the important stuff though. I think with time you’re gonna be right as rain.”

George got up and poured a cup of coffee.. “How do you take it?” he asked. “None for me,” said the officer. “Oh, yer gonna drink this. Best in the city. Too bad I ain’t got no doughnuts.”

The officer laughed and winced at the same time. The front door of the office flew open. In burst a young man with a gun. “Give me all your cash! Do it now!” the young man yelled. His hand was shaking and George could tell that he had never done anything like this before.

“That’s the guy that shot me!” exclaimed the officer.

“Son, why are you doing this?” asked George. You need to put the cannon away. Somebody else might get hurt.” The young man was confused.

“Shut up old man, or I’ll shoot you, too. Now give me the cash!”

The cop was reaching for his gun. “Put that thing away,” George said to the cop. “We got one too many in here now.” He turned his attention to the young man.

“Son, it’s Christmas Eve. If you need the money, well then, here. It ain’t much but it’s all I got. Now put that pea shooter away.” George pulled $150 out of his pocket and handed it to the young man, reaching for the barrel of the gun at the same time.

The young man released his grip on the gun, fell to his knees and began to cry. “I’m not very good at this am I? All I wanted was to buy something for my wife and son,” he went on. “I’ve lost my job. My rent is due.
My car got repossessed last week…”

George handed the gun to the cop. “Son, we all get in a bit of squeeze now and then. The road gets hard sometimes, but we make it through the best we can.” He got the young man to his feet, and sat him down on a chair across from the cop. “Sometimes we do stupid things.” George handed the young man a cup of coffee. “Being stupid is one of the things that makes us human. Comin’ in here with a gun ain’t the answer. Now sit there and get warm and we’ll sort this thing out.”

The young man had stopped crying. He looked over to the cop. “Sorry I shot you. It just went off. I’m sorry, officer.”

“Shut up and drink your coffee,” the cop said. George could hear the sounds of sirens outside. A police car and an ambulance skidded to a halt. Two cops came through the door, guns drawn.

“Chuck! You ok?” one of the cops asked the wounded officer.

“Not bad for a guy who took a bullet. How did you find me?”

“GPS locator in the car. Best thing since sliced bread. Who did this?” the other cop asked as he approached the young man.

Chuck answered him, “I don’t know. The guy ran off into the dark. Just dropped his gun and ran.”

George and the young man both looked puzzled at each other. “That guy work here?” the wounded cop continued.

“Yep,” George said. “Just hired him this morning. Boy lost his job.” The paramedics came in and loaded Chuck onto the stretcher. The young man leaned over the wounded cop and whispered, “Why?”

Chuck just said, “Merry Christmas, boy. And you too, George, and thanks for everything.”

“Well, looks like you got one doozy of a break there. That ought to solve some of your problems.” George went into the back room and came out with a box. He pulled out a ring box. “Here you go. Something for the little woman. I don’t think Martha would mind. She said it would come in handy some day.”

The young man looked inside to see the biggest diamond ring he ever saw. “I can’t take this,” said the young man. “It means something to you.”

“And now it means something to you,” replied George. “I got my memories. That’s all I need.” George reached into the box again. An airplane, a car and a truck appeared next. They were toys that the oil company had left for him to sell. “Here’s something for that little man of yours.”

The young man began to cry again as he handed back the $150 that the old man had handed him earlier. “And what are you supposed to buy Christmas dinner with? You keep that too,” George said. “Now git home to your family.”

The young man turned with tears streaming down his face. “I’ll be here in the morning for work, if that job offer is still good.” “Nope. I’m closed Christmas day,” George said. “See ya the day after.”

George turned around to find that the stranger had returned. “Where’d you come from? I thought you left?”

“I have been here. I have always been here,” said the stranger. “You say you don’t celebrate Christmas. Why?”

“Well, after my wife passed away I just couldn’t see what all the bother was. Puttin’ up a tree and all seemed a waste of a good pine tree. Bakin’ cookies like I used to with Martha just wasn’t the same by myself and besides I was getting a little chubby.”

The stranger put his hand on George’s shoulder. “But you do celebrate the holiday, George. You gave me food and drink and warmed me when I was cold and hungry. The woman with child will bear a son and he will become a great doctor. The policeman you helped will go on to save 19 people from being killed by terrorists. The young man who tried to rob you will make you a rich man and not take any for himself. That is the spirit of the season and you keep it as good as any man.”

George was taken aback by all this stranger had said. “And how do you know all this?” asked the old man.

“Trust me, George. I have the inside track on this sort of thing. And when your days are done you will be with Martha again.” The stranger moved toward the door.

“If you will excuse me, George, I have to go now.
I have to go home where there is a big celebration planned.”
George watched as the old leather jacket and the torn pants that the stranger was wearing
turned into a white robe.

A golden light began to fill the room. “You see, George… it’s my birthday.
Merry Christmas.”
George fell to his knees and replied,

“Happy Birthday, Lord.”

“What you do today, right now, will have an
accumulated effect on all your tomorrows.”

Author Unknown

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With many peaceful blessings

Geoffrey