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Guest, Join Papa Zoom today for some uplifting biblical encouragement! --> Daily Verses
Inspirational Stories
- Thread starter FineLinen
- Start date
The Cobras Come To Mukti
Pandita Ramabai was a beloved spiritual leader in India. She relates that following a wonderful and glorious visitation of the blessed Holy Spirit upon the girls in the home and school, the following transpired...
http://www.savioroftheworld.net/music/Third%20Day.htm
Pandita Ramabai was a beloved spiritual leader in India. She relates that following a wonderful and glorious visitation of the blessed Holy Spirit upon the girls in the home and school, the following transpired...
http://www.savioroftheworld.net/music/Third%20Day.htm
Poor As The Proverbial Turkey
Some years ago I was a speaker in a camp meeting in a district in which many of the people were very, very poor. One night, just before time for the service, I drove down the road in my car to get away from people in order to have opportunity to meditate a little while before going into the pulpit to preach. In the modern automobile it does not take much time to cover the distance of a few miles, and soon I was five miles away from the camp. As I passed a wooded section, I saw a man and a woman with four children come out of the woods and start up the road. They were all barefooted. They were carrying their shoes in their hands; that is, those who were fortunate enough to possess shoes. Only the oldest child of the four children had shoes!
I stopped by car and hailed them.
Smilingly, but with evident bashfulness, they accepted my offer to them of a ride. They were on their way to the camp meeting. At the gates of the camp they sat on the grass and put on their shoes. In just a few minutes they had travelled the three miles in my car which would have taken them over an hour to walk. The next night I happened to pass that way again, and gave them a ride. It so happened that I was in that vicinity every night, and asked them to ride with me to the services.
On the way, after the strangeness and bashfulness had worn off, they would testify and sing, and sing and testify!
Their joy was so abundant, that it was a tonic to my soul. It helped me to preach better! They carried their shoes to save the leather from wearing out on the concrete road. They were as poor as the proverbial turkey owned by Job and lived many, many miles back in the mountains; but they were richer by far than many who lived in great houses and who had more than enough of the possessions of this fleeting world.
One night towards the end of the camp, I said to the father,
The brother interrupted me. A smile of happiness came across his face and he commenced to sing:
The little folks helped him sing it, and his good wife sang it too. When he finished, he scratched his matted hair on his old mountain-born head, and said,
-Dr. Charles S. Price [The Real Faith]
Some years ago I was a speaker in a camp meeting in a district in which many of the people were very, very poor. One night, just before time for the service, I drove down the road in my car to get away from people in order to have opportunity to meditate a little while before going into the pulpit to preach. In the modern automobile it does not take much time to cover the distance of a few miles, and soon I was five miles away from the camp. As I passed a wooded section, I saw a man and a woman with four children come out of the woods and start up the road. They were all barefooted. They were carrying their shoes in their hands; that is, those who were fortunate enough to possess shoes. Only the oldest child of the four children had shoes!
I stopped by car and hailed them.
Smilingly, but with evident bashfulness, they accepted my offer to them of a ride. They were on their way to the camp meeting. At the gates of the camp they sat on the grass and put on their shoes. In just a few minutes they had travelled the three miles in my car which would have taken them over an hour to walk. The next night I happened to pass that way again, and gave them a ride. It so happened that I was in that vicinity every night, and asked them to ride with me to the services.
On the way, after the strangeness and bashfulness had worn off, they would testify and sing, and sing and testify!
Their joy was so abundant, that it was a tonic to my soul. It helped me to preach better! They carried their shoes to save the leather from wearing out on the concrete road. They were as poor as the proverbial turkey owned by Job and lived many, many miles back in the mountains; but they were richer by far than many who lived in great houses and who had more than enough of the possessions of this fleeting world.
One night towards the end of the camp, I said to the father,
The brother interrupted me. A smile of happiness came across his face and he commenced to sing:
The little folks helped him sing it, and his good wife sang it too. When he finished, he scratched his matted hair on his old mountain-born head, and said,
-Dr. Charles S. Price [The Real Faith]
Jenny Lind
During her very successful career as an operatic singer, Jenny Lind was known as "The Swedish Nightingale." She became one of the wealthiest artists of her time, yet she left the stage when she was singing her best.
Countless people speculated as to the reason for her leaving, and most people wondered how she could give up so much fame and money. She seemed content, however, to live in privacy in a home by the sea.
One day a friend found her sitting in the sand on the beach, her Bible on her knees, looking out into the glorious glow of a sunset. As they talked, the friend asked, "Madame Goldschmidt, how is it that you ever came to abandon the stage at the height of your success?"
She answered quietly, "When every day it made me think less of this (laying her finger on her Bible) and nothing at all of that (pointing to the sunset), what else could I do?"
The world may never understand your decision to follow God's way. But then, perhaps God cannot understand a decision to pursue what the world offers when He has such great rewards in store for those who follow Him.
Be more concerned with what God thinks about you than what people think of you.
http://newhopemusic.com/songs.a-g/center.htm
http://newhopemusic.com/songs.a-g/center.htm
During her very successful career as an operatic singer, Jenny Lind was known as "The Swedish Nightingale." She became one of the wealthiest artists of her time, yet she left the stage when she was singing her best.
Countless people speculated as to the reason for her leaving, and most people wondered how she could give up so much fame and money. She seemed content, however, to live in privacy in a home by the sea.
One day a friend found her sitting in the sand on the beach, her Bible on her knees, looking out into the glorious glow of a sunset. As they talked, the friend asked, "Madame Goldschmidt, how is it that you ever came to abandon the stage at the height of your success?"
She answered quietly, "When every day it made me think less of this (laying her finger on her Bible) and nothing at all of that (pointing to the sunset), what else could I do?"
The world may never understand your decision to follow God's way. But then, perhaps God cannot understand a decision to pursue what the world offers when He has such great rewards in store for those who follow Him.
Be more concerned with what God thinks about you than what people think of you.
http://newhopemusic.com/songs.a-g/center.htm
http://newhopemusic.com/songs.a-g/center.htm
Tokichi Ishii
One of the great conversion stores of modern times is the story of how the Japanese murderer Tokichi Ishii was converted by reading the New Testament when he was in prison. He was a man of the most savage cruelty, bestial and sub-human in the terrible crimes that he had committed.
He was converted by reading a Bible which two Canadian women left with him, when they could not get even a flicker of human response to anything they said to him. He read it, and when he came to the prayer of Jesus:
"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do"
He says: "I stopped. I was stabbed to the heart, as if pierced with a five-inch nail." His sorrow for his sin was the sorrow of a broken heart.
The word penthein tells us that we have not even begun on the Christian way until we take sin with such seriousness that our sorrow for it is like the mourning of one who mourns for the dead. Christianity begins with the godly sorrow of the broken heart.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Gre ... ersion=kjv
Mourn= Pentheo/ Penthein
One of the great conversion stores of modern times is the story of how the Japanese murderer Tokichi Ishii was converted by reading the New Testament when he was in prison. He was a man of the most savage cruelty, bestial and sub-human in the terrible crimes that he had committed.
He was converted by reading a Bible which two Canadian women left with him, when they could not get even a flicker of human response to anything they said to him. He read it, and when he came to the prayer of Jesus:
"Father, forgive them, they know not what they do"
He says: "I stopped. I was stabbed to the heart, as if pierced with a five-inch nail." His sorrow for his sin was the sorrow of a broken heart.
The word penthein tells us that we have not even begun on the Christian way until we take sin with such seriousness that our sorrow for it is like the mourning of one who mourns for the dead. Christianity begins with the godly sorrow of the broken heart.
http://bible.crosswalk.com/Lexicons/Gre ... ersion=kjv
Mourn= Pentheo/ Penthein
Behold The Savior Of Mankind
A fire ripped through the parsonage in the village of Epworth, England. On that day, February 9, 1709, the Wesley family almost lost their son, six year old, John (who later founded the Methodist church). But he was saved from the fire with one other item. A piece of paper, containing the words to the hymn,
This hymn, though, was not written by John or Charles, but by their father, Samuel, who was the pastor of the church. Evidently Samuel taught his sons more than just discipline for their lives, but also taught them to treasure what Jesus had done for them.
http://www.seeklyrics.com/lyrics/Petra/ ... -Days.html
A fire ripped through the parsonage in the village of Epworth, England. On that day, February 9, 1709, the Wesley family almost lost their son, six year old, John (who later founded the Methodist church). But he was saved from the fire with one other item. A piece of paper, containing the words to the hymn,
This hymn, though, was not written by John or Charles, but by their father, Samuel, who was the pastor of the church. Evidently Samuel taught his sons more than just discipline for their lives, but also taught them to treasure what Jesus had done for them.
http://www.seeklyrics.com/lyrics/Petra/ ... -Days.html
Henry F. Lyte
Henry Lyte was a man who greatly loved the Lord with his whole being. He came up with the saying,
and it perfectly described his life.
During the last 23 years of his life he pastored a poor church in England. His always suffered from poor health but during this time his health started to decline even more. Finally on September 4, 1847 he preached his last sermon to his congregation. He was in need of the warmer climate of Italy. His final sermon made a deep impression to his congregation. It has been described that he had to practically crawl up to the pulpit that day. He said during his sermon that it was his desire to “induce you to prepare for the solemn hour which must come to all by a timely appreciation and dependence on the death of Christ.†He never was able to make his trip to Italy, he died on the journey. Shortly before preaching his last sermon he wrote the words and tune to the hymn, “Abide With Me.†He based his hymn on the text which tells the story of Christ on the way to Emmaus and the disciples statement, “Abide with us: for it is toward evening and the day is far spent.â€Â
Later William Monk wrote a new tune for the hymn. During a time of personal sorrow, he was inspired by the beauty of the magnificent sunset.
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/a/b/abidewme.htm
Henry Lyte was a man who greatly loved the Lord with his whole being. He came up with the saying,
and it perfectly described his life.
During the last 23 years of his life he pastored a poor church in England. His always suffered from poor health but during this time his health started to decline even more. Finally on September 4, 1847 he preached his last sermon to his congregation. He was in need of the warmer climate of Italy. His final sermon made a deep impression to his congregation. It has been described that he had to practically crawl up to the pulpit that day. He said during his sermon that it was his desire to “induce you to prepare for the solemn hour which must come to all by a timely appreciation and dependence on the death of Christ.†He never was able to make his trip to Italy, he died on the journey. Shortly before preaching his last sermon he wrote the words and tune to the hymn, “Abide With Me.†He based his hymn on the text which tells the story of Christ on the way to Emmaus and the disciples statement, “Abide with us: for it is toward evening and the day is far spent.â€Â
Later William Monk wrote a new tune for the hymn. During a time of personal sorrow, he was inspired by the beauty of the magnificent sunset.
http://www.cyberhymnal.org/htm/a/b/abidewme.htm
Never Listen To A Muslim!
We know that 80% of the town of Meulaboh in Aceh was destroyed by the Tsunami waves and 80% of the people also died. This is one of the towns that was hit the hardest.
But there is a fantastic testimony from Meulaboh. In that town are about 400 Christians.
They wanted to celebrate Christmas on December 25th but were not allowed to do so by the Muslims of Meulaboh. They were told if they wanted to celebrate Christmas they needed to go outside the city of
Meulaboh on a high hill and there celebrate Christmas.
Because the Christians desired to celebrate Christmas the 400 believers left the city on December 25th and after they celebrated Christmas they stayed overnight on the hill.
As we all know the morning of December 26 there was the earthquake followed by the Tsunami waves destroying most of the city of Meulaboh and thousands were killed. The 400 believers were on the mountain and wereall saved from destruction.
Now the Muslims of Meulaboh are saying that the God of the Christians punished us for forbidding the Christians from celebrating Christmas in the city. Others are questioning why so many Muslims died while not even
one of the Christians died there.
Had the Christians insisted on their rights to celebrate Christmas in the city, they would have all died. But because they humbled themselves and followed the advice of the Muslims they all were spared destruction and
can now testify of God's marvelous protection.
This is a testimony of the grace of God and the fact that as believers we have no rights in the world. Our right is come before God and commit our lives to Him. Our right is kneeling down before the Lord Almighty and
commit our ways to Him. He is our Father and is very capable to care for His children. Praise the Name of the Lord.
-Bill Hekman Pastor, Calvary Life Fellowship, Indonesia-
We know that 80% of the town of Meulaboh in Aceh was destroyed by the Tsunami waves and 80% of the people also died. This is one of the towns that was hit the hardest.
But there is a fantastic testimony from Meulaboh. In that town are about 400 Christians.
They wanted to celebrate Christmas on December 25th but were not allowed to do so by the Muslims of Meulaboh. They were told if they wanted to celebrate Christmas they needed to go outside the city of
Meulaboh on a high hill and there celebrate Christmas.
Because the Christians desired to celebrate Christmas the 400 believers left the city on December 25th and after they celebrated Christmas they stayed overnight on the hill.
As we all know the morning of December 26 there was the earthquake followed by the Tsunami waves destroying most of the city of Meulaboh and thousands were killed. The 400 believers were on the mountain and wereall saved from destruction.
Now the Muslims of Meulaboh are saying that the God of the Christians punished us for forbidding the Christians from celebrating Christmas in the city. Others are questioning why so many Muslims died while not even
one of the Christians died there.
Had the Christians insisted on their rights to celebrate Christmas in the city, they would have all died. But because they humbled themselves and followed the advice of the Muslims they all were spared destruction and
can now testify of God's marvelous protection.
This is a testimony of the grace of God and the fact that as believers we have no rights in the world. Our right is come before God and commit our lives to Him. Our right is kneeling down before the Lord Almighty and
commit our ways to Him. He is our Father and is very capable to care for His children. Praise the Name of the Lord.
-Bill Hekman Pastor, Calvary Life Fellowship, Indonesia-
For this cause, I the prisoner of Christ Jesus...
Madame Guyon
There was a Christian woman in France named Madame Guyon who, 300 years ago, was kept in a black dungeon underground for ten years for her faith in Christ. The only light she had was a candle that her warden would bring in at mealtimes. She knew she was there as the prisoner of Christ Jesus, and she wrote these words.....
Madame Guyon
There was a Christian woman in France named Madame Guyon who, 300 years ago, was kept in a black dungeon underground for ten years for her faith in Christ. The only light she had was a candle that her warden would bring in at mealtimes. She knew she was there as the prisoner of Christ Jesus, and she wrote these words.....
B
Birdy56
Guest
God's Elephants
No one is insignificant in God's eyes and His care is a constant reminder
that He cares for you and for me. What He makes, He cherishes.
Consider the elephants of the Pavilion Hotel in Phuket, Thailand, where one of the most popular attractions is the elephant ride. As many as eight
people ride on one elephant, first into the surrounding forest, then down to the beach, to lunch at a fresh water lagoon, then back to the hotel.
"Our nine elephants," writes Pavilion Hotel Group manager Jim France, "are kept chained to in-ground posts, not because they need to be, but because it makes the tourists feel better because their children seem safe from a tromping when they're feeding the beasts."
"God's elephants" rescued forty-two people that day. Then, they returned to the beach and carried up four dead bodies, including one of a child. Not until the task was done did they allow their handlers to mount them. Then with handlers atop, they began moving wreckage.
Whatever God makes, He cherishes---including elephants and you.
No one is insignificant in God's eyes and His care is a constant reminder
that He cares for you and for me. What He makes, He cherishes.
Consider the elephants of the Pavilion Hotel in Phuket, Thailand, where one of the most popular attractions is the elephant ride. As many as eight
people ride on one elephant, first into the surrounding forest, then down to the beach, to lunch at a fresh water lagoon, then back to the hotel.
"Our nine elephants," writes Pavilion Hotel Group manager Jim France, "are kept chained to in-ground posts, not because they need to be, but because it makes the tourists feel better because their children seem safe from a tromping when they're feeding the beasts."
"God's elephants" rescued forty-two people that day. Then, they returned to the beach and carried up four dead bodies, including one of a child. Not until the task was done did they allow their handlers to mount them. Then with handlers atop, they began moving wreckage.
Whatever God makes, He cherishes---including elephants and you.
stovebolts
Member
Isn't is amazing... God's grace for mankind.
S
Soma-Sight
Guest
Good stories Fine Linen,
good to see you around......
good to see you around......
Hi Soma: I am pleased you are enjoying the stories. I will be popping in once in a while to say hello.
The Room
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
I Knew Where I Was!
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.
Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I have listened to," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music but more by the vast time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated ! my mind:
In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But Then I Saw Him!
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
The Room
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings.
I Knew Where I Was!
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.
Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I have listened to," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music but more by the vast time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated ! my mind:
In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But Then I Saw Him!
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
FineLinen said:
Cape Breton's Big Boy jogged down the street with a 300-pound barrel of pork under each arm to the admiring whistles of bystanders. To win a bet with some French sailors he lifted an anchor weighing 2700 pounds to his shoulder and walked down the wharf with it. Barnum exhibited the Giant on tours in the United States and Europe. One day Big Angus McAskill threw a Big Sailor right over a large woodpile.
There was a time when a sick man had to be taken 25 miles through a howling snowstorm. The giant swung him up over his back and carried him to the doctor without once setting him down. Fishermen who couldn't pull their heavily laden boat up on the beach called on Angus for help, and as the Giant pulled on the bow the men decided to play a trick and hauled back. The boat was torn in two in the tug-of-war between the Giant and the fishermen.
Queen Victoria heard stories of his amazing strength and invited the Cape Breton Giant to an audience at Windsor Castle where she presented him with two gold rings and acclaimed him as the tallest, stoutest, and strongest man that ever entered the palace.
These and many other tales are still told in Cape Breton about Big Angus McAskill of St. Ann's.
You can go on to read the rest of the story.
http://www.macaskill.com/GeneralTallTal ... angus.html
Do Not Be Troubled!
When, after leaving Kailash, I reached the inhabited part and inquired from the people there the way to the nearest village, they, out of enmity, seeing I was a Christian, directed me to a dangerous forest path; as I was quite ignorant, I followed their direction and went that way. As I traveled, night came on, but no village appeared and the sun was setting when I arrived at the bank of a river. From every side the noise of wild animals came to my ears. I tried to cross the river but could not do so, and at length sat down in despair, feeling that things boded ill for me that day and that the end of my life was at hand. My eyes filled with tears.
Just then, when I raised my eyes and glanced across the river, I saw a man sitting and warming himself by a fire. He said,
I was very glad to see him as he rose and came to me, and I was amazed to see how unhesitantly and fearlessly he entered the swiftly flowing river and came out. He said to me,
So lifting me, he very gently carried me across. The surprising thing to me was that while I could not get even myself across, yet he, bearing such a burden, came through without anxiety, I concluded: "As he is a resident of this place he is practiced in crossing, and now sitting with him I will preach the gospel to him and will also render my thanks to him." But when I turned and looked back, immediatly both the fire and the man disappeared and there were no bounds to my awe, wondering what this was....Certainly our Lord is yesterday, today and for ever the same. There is no change in him, but the change is in our faith. -Life & Writings Of Sadhu Sundar Singh-
When, after leaving Kailash, I reached the inhabited part and inquired from the people there the way to the nearest village, they, out of enmity, seeing I was a Christian, directed me to a dangerous forest path; as I was quite ignorant, I followed their direction and went that way. As I traveled, night came on, but no village appeared and the sun was setting when I arrived at the bank of a river. From every side the noise of wild animals came to my ears. I tried to cross the river but could not do so, and at length sat down in despair, feeling that things boded ill for me that day and that the end of my life was at hand. My eyes filled with tears.
Just then, when I raised my eyes and glanced across the river, I saw a man sitting and warming himself by a fire. He said,
I was very glad to see him as he rose and came to me, and I was amazed to see how unhesitantly and fearlessly he entered the swiftly flowing river and came out. He said to me,
So lifting me, he very gently carried me across. The surprising thing to me was that while I could not get even myself across, yet he, bearing such a burden, came through without anxiety, I concluded: "As he is a resident of this place he is practiced in crossing, and now sitting with him I will preach the gospel to him and will also render my thanks to him." But when I turned and looked back, immediatly both the fire and the man disappeared and there were no bounds to my awe, wondering what this was....Certainly our Lord is yesterday, today and for ever the same. There is no change in him, but the change is in our faith. -Life & Writings Of Sadhu Sundar Singh-
Three Sons
There was a father that had three sons. They all came of age and moved out. The eldest became very successful and constantly sent great gifts home to his father. But, he had little time for his father. The second also became an outstanding citizen and successful man. He did make time to hurriedly come to the father's house and do chores for him. But, he seldom had time to set and talk.
The third son was a problem.
He never achieved much in life. He was constantly failing at one thing and then another. But, he visited his father often. He made his father cry as he would share his heartbreaks. And, he made his father laugh so many times as well! Often he needed a handout or help from the father in some way.
The time came for the father to divide up the inheritance to his sons.
The two eldest paced the floor in their father's house. Both were in a hurry. They were busy men. The third, the loser, sat their smiling and content. He was quite comfortable in his father's house and in his presence.
The father came into the room and told the two eldest sons that they would be amply rewarded but that the bulk of his estate would go to the third son.
The two eldest sons raged at the father pointing out the injustice of this! They said unkind and accusatory things against their younger brother. The younger brother said not a word in return to them as he knew that they were right in their accusations and he had no defense. He bowed his head in shame.
The two eldest told the father that this younger one would waste the fortune he was giving him. The father told them that the storms of life he had endured and the counsel he had constantly sought from his father had equipped him to do well.
As the two eldest continued to rage and qualify themselves through all they had done for the father and asking, "Why? Why? WHY?" The father only looked with love upon the younger son and repeatedly said,"But, he has loved me....."
How Precious Is Your Love
http://newhopemusic.com/songs.n-r/precious.ihp.htm
There was a father that had three sons. They all came of age and moved out. The eldest became very successful and constantly sent great gifts home to his father. But, he had little time for his father. The second also became an outstanding citizen and successful man. He did make time to hurriedly come to the father's house and do chores for him. But, he seldom had time to set and talk.
The third son was a problem.
He never achieved much in life. He was constantly failing at one thing and then another. But, he visited his father often. He made his father cry as he would share his heartbreaks. And, he made his father laugh so many times as well! Often he needed a handout or help from the father in some way.
The time came for the father to divide up the inheritance to his sons.
The two eldest paced the floor in their father's house. Both were in a hurry. They were busy men. The third, the loser, sat their smiling and content. He was quite comfortable in his father's house and in his presence.
The father came into the room and told the two eldest sons that they would be amply rewarded but that the bulk of his estate would go to the third son.
The two eldest sons raged at the father pointing out the injustice of this! They said unkind and accusatory things against their younger brother. The younger brother said not a word in return to them as he knew that they were right in their accusations and he had no defense. He bowed his head in shame.
The two eldest told the father that this younger one would waste the fortune he was giving him. The father told them that the storms of life he had endured and the counsel he had constantly sought from his father had equipped him to do well.
As the two eldest continued to rage and qualify themselves through all they had done for the father and asking, "Why? Why? WHY?" The father only looked with love upon the younger son and repeatedly said,"But, he has loved me....."
How Precious Is Your Love
http://newhopemusic.com/songs.n-r/precious.ihp.htm