BEFORE I WAS A MOM Author Unknown

Before I was a Mom - I made and ate hot meals. I had unstained clothing. I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a Mom - I slept as late as I wanted and never worried about how late I got into bed. I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

Before I was a Mom - I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous. I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom - I had never been puked on, wet on, spit on, chewed on, or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a Mom - I had complete control over my thoughts, my body, my mind. I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom - I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests, or give shots. I never looked into teary eyes and cried. I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin. I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom - I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down. I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I could not stop the hurt. I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much. I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom - I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body. I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby. I didn't know that bond between a Mother and her child. I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Mom - I had never gotten up every ten minutes, in the middle of the night, to make sure that all was okay. I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the wonderfulness, or the satisfaction of being a Mom. I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much, before I was a Mom.

DON'T WE ALL Author Unknown

I was parked in front of the mall wiping off my car. I had just come from the car wash and was waiting for my wife to get out of work. Coming my way from across the parking lot was what society would consider a bum. From the looks of him, he had no car, no home, no clean clothes, and no money. There are times when you feel generous but there are other times that you just don't want to be bothered. This was one of those "don't want to be bothered times."

"I hope he doesn't ask me for any money," I thought.

He didn't.

He came and sat on the curb in front of the bus stop but he didn't look like he could have enough money to even ride the bus.

After a few minutes he spoke.

"That's a very pretty car," he said.

He was ragged but he had an air of dignity around him. His scraggly blond beard keep more than his face warm.

I said, "thanks," and continued wiping off my car.

He sat there quietly as I worked. The expected plea for money never came. As the silence between us widened something inside said, "ask him if he needs any help." I was sure that he would say "yes" but I held true to the inner voice.

"Do you need any help?" I asked.

He answered in three simple but profound words that I shall never forget. We often look for wisdom in great men and women. We expect it from those of higher learning and accomplishments. I expected nothing but an outstretched grimy hand. He spoke the three words that shook me.

"Don't we all?" he said.

I was feeling high and mighty, successful and important, above a bum in the street, until those three words hit me like a twelve gauge shotgun.

Don't we all?

I needed help. Maybe not for bus fare or a place to sleep, but I needed help. I reached in my wallet and gave him not only enough for bus fare, but enough to get a warm meal and shelter for the day. Those three little words still ring true. No matter how much you have, no matter how much you have accomplished, you need help too. No matter how little you have, no matter how loaded you are with problems, even without money or a place to sleep, you can give help. Even if it's just a compliment, you can give that.

You never know when you may see someone that appears to have it all. They are waiting on you to give them what they don't have. A different perspective on life, a glimpse at something beautiful, a respite from daily chaos, that only you through a torn world can see.

Maybe the man was just a homeless stranger wandering the streets. Maybe he was more than that. Maybe he was sent by a power that is great and wise, to minister to a soul too comfortable in themselves.

Maybe God looked down, called an Angel, dressed him like a bum, then said, "go minister to that man cleaning the car, that man needs help."

Don't we all?

HOLDING ON Author Unknown

There is a story of a cliffhanger determined to reach the summit of a high mountain. After years of preparation, he began his adventure. Only he journeyed alone, because he wanted all the glory.

He began his ascent, and as daylight faded he decided to continue climbing. Night fell. The night fell heavy as he was overcome by total darkness. The moonlight and starlight were hidden within the clouds. There was zero visibility.

He was only a few meters away from the summit when he slipped climbing a ridge and fell off, falling at frightening speed. While falling he could only see shadow like figures in the darkness and felt the tug of gravity sucking him down. In those anguishing moments he saw his life before his eyes.

He thought death was near when suddenly he felt the tighting of the rope around his waist that tied him to a nail embedded in the rock wall of the mountain. In desperation, suspended in mid-air, he screams "God, please help me!"

Then unexpectedly, a deep voice from heaven responds: "What would you have me do?"

"Save me."

"Do you really think I can save you?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"Well then, cut the rope."

There was a moment of silence, then the man tightens the rope around his waist.

The mountain rescue team tells a story of a man they found frozen to death, his hands wrapped firmly around a rope tied to his wait... HANGING TWO FEET FROM THE GROUND.

So... how tight are your ropes? Would you let go?

"I am the Lord your God, who holds your right hand, and I tell you 'don't be afraid. I will help you.'" (Isaiah 41:13)

EYE OPENER Author Unknown

I saw him in the church building for the first time on Wednesday. He was in his mid-70's, with thinning silver hair and a neat brown suit. Many times in the past I had invited him to come. Several other Christian friends had talked to him about the Lord and had tried to share the good news with him.

He was a well-respected, honest man with so many characteristics a Christian should have, but he had never put on Christ, nor entered the doors of the church.

"Have you ever been to a church service in your life?" I had asked him a few years ago. We had just finished a pleasant day of visiting and talking.

He hesitated. Then with a bitter smile he told me of his childhood experience some fifty years ago. He was one of many children in a large impoverished family. His parents had struggled to provide food, with little left for housing and clothing. When he was about ten, some neighbors invited him to worship with them.

The Sunday School class had been very exciting! He had never heard such songs and stories before!

He had never heard anyone read from the Bible! After class was over, the teacher took him aside and said, "Son, please don't come again dressed as you are now. We want to look our best when we come into God's house."

He stood in his ragged, unpatched overalls. Then looking at his dirty bare feet, he answered softly, "No, ma'am, I won't ever."

"And I never did," he said, abruptly ending our conversation.

There must have been other factors to have hardened him so, but this experience formed a significant part of the bitterness in his heart.

I'm sure that Sunday School teacher meant well. But did she really understand the love of Christ? Had she studied and accepted the teachings found in the second chapter of James?

What if she had put her arms around the dirty, ragged little boy and said, "Son, I am so glad you are here, and I hope you will come every chance you get to hear more about Jesus."

I reflected on the awesome responsibility a teacher or pastor or a parent has to welcome little ones in His name. How far reaching her influence was!

I prayed that I might be ever open to the tenderness of a child's heart, and that I might never fail to see beyond the appearance and behavior of a child to the eternal possibilities within.

Yes, I saw him in the church house for the first time on Wednesday. As I looked at that immaculately dressed old gentleman lying in his casket, I thought of the little boy of long ago. I could almost hear him say, "No, ma'am, I won't ever."

And I wept.

LOST AGAIN By Sally I. Kennedy

..the Son of Man has come to seek and to save that which was lost." Luke 19:10 NKJV

The baby Jesus was lost again. I began searching and scouring the house.

The miniature wood carvings of Jesus, Mary, Joseph, the shepherds and wisemen, had lived in Grandma's living room for well over a decade. Little silver-colored cups held the tiny crèche figures. They'd been a big attraction for every grandchild who ever toddled through the family.

After the kids' visits, I never knew where I'd find one or more of the figures, The baby Jesus was every child's favorite. Usually it was the baby Jesus who would be missing. Could be shoved under a sofa cushion, stuffed down the side of a potted plant, or even safely tucked into a drawer. Definitely somewhere they thought would be a safe place.

I always thought it amazing when I'd find them. So tiny, only about an inch and a half tall. This time, though, I was coming to a dead-end. I figured baby Jesus might be lost for good.

And then, there it was. Hidden just behind a photo frame.

Just as the miniature baby Jesus carving has never really been lost at our house, so are we never really lost once we confess our belief in Jesus as Lord. That is good news!