Stories For The Heart - Second Page
No Charge
A little boy came into the kitchen this evening while his Mom was fixing supper. And he handed her a piece of paper he'd been writing on. So, after wiping her hands on her apron, she read it, and this is what it said:
For mowing the grass, $5.
For making my own bed this week, $1.
For going to the store $.50.
For playing with baby brother while you went shopping, $.25.
For taking out the trash, $1.
For getting a good report card, $5.
And for raking the yard, $2.
Well, she looked at him standing there expectantly, and a thousand memories flashed through her mind. So, she picked up the paper, and turning it over, this is what she wrote:
For the nine months I carried you, growing inside me, No Charge.
For the nights I sat up with you, doctored you, prayed for you, No charge.
For the time and the tears, and the cost through the years, No Charge.
For the nights filled with dread, and the worries ahead, No Charge.
For advice and the knowledge, and the cost of your college, No Charge.
For the toys, food and clothes, and for wiping your nose, No Charge.
Son, when you add it all up, the full cost of my love is No Charge.
Well, when he finished reading, he had great big tears in his eyes.
And he looked up at her and he said, "Mama, I sure do love you."
Then he took the pen and in great big letters he wrote, PAID IN FULL.
Soul Food
Last week I took my children to a restaurant. My six-year-old son asked if he could say grace. As we bowed our heads he said, "God is good. God is great. Thank you for the food, and I would even thank you more if Mom gets us ice cream for dessert. And Liberty and justice for all! Amen!"
Along with the laughter from the other customers nearby I heard a woman remark, "That's what's wrong with this country. Kids today don't even know how to pray. Asking God for ice-cream! Why, I never!".
Hearing this, my son burst into tears and asked me, "Did I do it wrong? Is God mad at me?"
As I held him and assured him that he had done a terrific job and God was certainly not mad at him. An elderly gentleman approached the table. He winked at my son and said, "I happen to know that God thought that was a great prayer." "Really?" my son asked.
"Cross my heart." Then in a theatrical whisper he added indicating the woman whose remark had started this whole thing), "Too bad she never asks God for ice cream. A little ice cream is good for the soul sometimes."
Naturally, I bought my kids ice cream at the end of the meal. My son stared at his for a moment and then did something I will remember the rest of my life.
He picked up his sundae and without a word walked over and placed it in front of the woman. With a big smile he told her, "Here, this is for you. Ice cream is good for the soul sometimes, and my soul is good already."
The Soldier
A story is told about a soldier who was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam. He called his parents from San Francisco. "Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've got a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring with me." "Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him."
"There's something you should know," the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mine and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us."
"I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live."
"No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us."
"Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own."
At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building, they were told. The police believed it was suicide.
The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know. Their son had only one arm and one leg.
The parents in this story are like many of us. We find it easy to love those who are good-looking or fun to have around, but we don't like people who inconvenience us or make us feel uncomfortable. We would rather stay away from people who aren't as healthy, beautiful, or smart as we are, Thankfully, there's someone who, won't treat us that way.
Someone who loves us with an unconditional love that welcomes us into the forever family, regardless of how messed up we are.
Tonight, before you tuck yourself in for the night, say a little prayer that God will give you the strength you need to accept people as they are, and to help us all be more understanding of those who are different from us!!!
There's a miracle called -Friendship- that dwells in the heart. You don't know how it happens or when it gets started. But you know the special lift It always brings and you realize that Friendship is one of God's most precious gifts!
Wrinkle In My Hood
We live in a very quiet neighborhood. Late one evening I was listening to some music when I heard a loud crash on the street. It took me a while to realize what had happened.
Earlier that evening my wife wanted me to go to the store to get some soft drinks. It seemed like this would be a good time to let my teenage daughter get in a little practice driving. I sent her to the store with her older brother riding shotgun. She took my truck. I settled back to enjoy the music.
At dinner earlier that evening my oldest son was speaking admiringly of the truck. It is a little four-wheel drive Ford Explorer and the kids knew I enjoyed having it. It is the nicest car I have ever owned. I said, "Guys, my heart is not set on that car. I like it but it is just rusting metal and it is a depreciating item. It won't last forever. "Never set your heart on anything that is temporary."
I had no idea how prophetic my advice was that night. The thud on the street was followed by a commotion upstairs and then the whole family pouring down the steps led by thirteen year old Chuck who shouted, "Dad, Dad, Holly wrecked your car."
My heart sank and my mind was flooded with conflicting thoughts. Was anyone hurt? Who else was involved? I ran to the door with a racing heart and in that instant a message came clearly to my spirit like a voice in my heart:
"Here is your chance. You have always looked for ways to show Holly that she is precious to you. Here is a unique opportunity to show her what you really love. How you react now is something that she will probably never forget."
To my surprise the accident had not occurred on the street, but right in my own driveway. And my fears about damage to the property of other people melted when I saw that the collision was with our other car, the family van. In her inexperience Holly had confused the brakes and accelerator. In an instant both of my cars were wrecked. Holly was unhurt physically but when I reached her she was crying softly and saying over and over again, "Oh, Dad, I'm sorry, I'm sorry Dad, I know how much you love this car." I wrapped her in my arms and she cried and my heart melted for her.
Later that week an adult friend stopped by and asked what happened to my truck. I swore her to secrecy and then told her what happened. Her eyes moistened and she said, "That happened to me when I was a girl. I borrowed my Dad's car and ran into a log that had fallen across the road. I was able to drive the car home, but it was totaled. When I got home my Dad dragged me from the car, knocked me to the ground and began to kick me." Over forty years later the pain of that rejection still moved her to tears. It was a deep wound on her soul.
I remembered how tender-hearted Holly had been the night she wrecked the car and how vulnerable she was at that moment and I breathed a prayer of thanks to God for His gentle reminder that night. Someday years from now when Holly thinks back on her life and she remembers me I want her to know that I loved her a thousand times more than all my earthly possessions put together.
I repaired the van, but the wrinkle in the hood of my truck is still there today. Every day it reminds me of the really priceless things in my life. I don't mind having damage to my truck, but I don't want to be responsible for damage to my daughter's heart.
-- Ken Pierpont
The Blood
One night in a church service a young woman felt the tug of God at her heart. She responded to God's call and accepted Jesus as her Lord and Savior. The young woman had a very rough past, involving alcohol, drugs, and prostitution. But, the change in her was evident.
As time went on she became a faithful member of the church. She eventually became involved in the ministry, teaching young children.
It was not very long until this faithful young woman had caught the eye and heart of the pastor's son. The relationship grew and they began to make wedding plans. This is when the problems began.
You see, about one half of the church did not think that a woman with a past such as hers was suitable for a pastor's son. The church began to argue and fight about the matter. So they decided to have a meeting. As the people made their arguments and tensions increased, the meeting was getting completely out of hand.
The young woman became very upset about all the things being brought up about her past. As she began to cry the pastor's son stood to speak. He could not bear the pain it was causing his wife to be. He began to speak and his statement was this:
"My fiancée’s past is not what is on trial here. What you are questioning is the ability of the blood of Jesus to wash away sin. Today you have put the blood of Jesus on trial. So, does it wash away sin or not?" The whole church began to weep as they realized that they had been slandering the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Too often, even as Christians, we bring up the past and use it as a weapon against our brothers and sisters. Forgiveness is a very foundational part of the Gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. If the blood of Jesus does not cleanse the other person completely then it cannot cleanse us completely. If that is the case, then we are all in a lot of trouble.
The Old Tattered Man
We were the only family with children in the restaurant. I sat Erik in a high chair and noticed everyone was quietly eating and talking. Suddenly, Erik squealed with glee and said, "Hi there." He pounded his fat baby hands on the highchair tray. His eyes were wide with excitement and his mouth was bared in a toothless grin. He wriggled and giggled with merriment. I looked around and saw the source of his merriment.
It was a man with a tattered rag of a coat; dirty, greasy and worn. His pants were baggy with a zipper at half-mast and his toes poked out of would-be shoes. His shirt was dirty and his hair was uncombed and unwashed. His whiskers were too short to be called a beard and his nose was so varicose it looked like a road map. We were too far from him to smell, but I was sure he smelled. His hands waved and flapped on loose wrists.
"Hi there, baby; hi there, big boy. I see ya, buster," the man said to Erik.
My husband and I exchanged looks, "What do we do?" Erik continued to laugh and answer, "Hi, hi there." Everyone in the restaurant noticed and looked at us and then at the man. The old geezer was creating a nuisance with my beautiful baby. Our meal came and the man began shouting from across the room, "Do ya know patty cake? Do you know peek-a-boo? Hey, look, he knows peek-a-boo."
Nobody thought the old man was cute. He was obviously drunk. My husband and I were embarrassed. We ate in silence; all except for Erik, who was running through his repertoire for the admiring skid-row bum, who in turn, reciprocated with his cute comments. We finally got through the meal and headed for the door.
My husband went to pay the check and told me to meet him in the parking lot. The old man sat poised between me and the door. "Lord, just let me out of here before he speaks to me or Erik," I prayed. As I drew closer to the man, I turned my back trying to sidestep him and avoid any air he might be breathing. As I did, Erik leaned over my arm, reaching with both arms in a baby's "pick-me-up" position. Before I could stop him, Erik had propelled himself from my arms to the man's. Suddenly a very old smelly man and a very young baby consummated their love relationship. Erik in an act of total trust, love, and submission laid his tiny head upon the man's ragged shoulder.
The man's eyes closed, and I saw tears hover beneath his lashes. His aged hands full of grime, pain, and hard labor-gently, so gently, cradled my baby's bottom and stroked his back. No two beings have ever loved so deeply for so short a time. I stood awestruck. The old man rocked and cradled Erik in his arms for a moment, and then his eyes opened and set squarely on mine. He said in a firm commanding voice, "You take care of this baby." Somehow I managed, "I will," from a throat that contained a stone. He pried Erik from his chest unwillingly, longingly, as though he were in pain. I received my baby, and the man said, "God bless you, ma'am, you've given me my Christmas gift."
"I said nothing more than a muttered thanks. With Erik in my arms, I ran for the car. My husband was wondering why I was crying and holding Erik so tightly, and why I was saying, "My God, my God, forgive me." I had just witnessed Christ's love shown through the innocence of a tiny child who saw no sin, who made no judgment; a child who saw a soul, and a mother who saw a suit of clothes. I was a Christian who was blind, holding a child who was not. I felt it was God asking-"Are you willing to share your son for a moment?" when He shared His for all eternity. The ragged old man, unwittingly, had reminded me, "To enter the Kingdom of God, we must become as little children."
The Silent Sermon
A member of a certain church, who previously had been attending services regularly, suddenly stopped coming to church. After a few weeks, the Pastor decided to visit.
The Pastor found the man at home alone, sitting before a blazing fire. Guessing the reason for his Pastor's visit, the man welcomed him, led him to a comfortable chair near the fireplace and waited. The pastor made himself at home but said nothing. In the grave silence, he contemplated the dance of the flames around the burning logs.
After some minutes, the Pastor took the fire tongs, carefully picked up a brightly burning ember and placed it to one side of the hearth all alone. Then he sat back in his chair, still silent. The host watched all this in quiet contemplation.
As the one lone ember's flame flickered and diminished, there was a momentary glow and then its fire was no more. Soon it was cold and lifeless.
The Pastor glanced at his watch and realized it was time to leave. He slowly stood up, picked up the cold, dead ember and placed it back in the middle of the fire. Immediately it began to glow, once more with the light and warmth of the burning coals around it.
As the Pastor reached the door to leave, his host said with a tear running down his cheek, "Thank you so much for your visit and especially for the fiery sermon. I shall be back in church next Sunday."
The Obstacle in Our Path
In ancient times, a king had a boulder placed on a roadway. Then he hid himself and watched to see if anyone would remove the huge rock. Some of the king's wealthiest merchants and courtiers came by and simply walked around it. Many loudly blamed the king for not keeping the roads clear, but none did anything about getting the big stone out of the way.
Then a peasant came along carrying a load of vegetables. On approaching the boulder, the peasant laid down his burden and tried to move the stone to the side of the road. After much pushing and straining, he finally succeeded. As the peasant picked up his load of vegetables, he noticed a purse lying in the road where the boulder had been. The purse contained many gold coins and a note from the king indicating that the gold was for the person who removed the boulder from the roadway. The peasant learned what many others never understand. Every obstacle presents an opportunity to improve one's condition.
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