Dear Father, I truly mean to keep all the
promises I have made to You. Put me to
work fulfilling those promises. AMEN

A Point to ponder....
The tongue---- we spend three years learning
how to use it and the rest of our lives
learning how to control it.

Thank You, Rusty for the Billboard

I would like to thank Betty T for sending me this story she got from Marietta B.

 THE CHOICE

He placed one scoop of clay upon another
until a form lay lifeless on the ground.

All of the garden's inhabitants paused
to witness the event. Hawks hovered.
 Giraffes stretched. Trees bowed.
Butterflies paused on petals
and watched.

You will love Me, creation," God said.
 "I made you that way. You will
obey Me, universe. For you were designed
 to do so. You will reflect My glory, skies,
for that is how you were created.
But this one will be like Me.
This one will be able to choose."

All were silent as the Creator reached into
 Himself and removed something yet unseen.
A seed. "It's called 'choice.' The seed of choice."

Creation stood in silence and gazed
 upon the lifeless form.

An angel spoke, "But what if he..."

"What if he chooses not to love?"
the Creator finished. "Come, I
will show you."
Unbound by today, God and the angel
walked into the realm of
tomorrow. "There, see the fruit of the
seed of choice, both the sweet
and the bitter."

The angel gasped at what he saw.
Spontaneous love. Voluntary devotion.
Chosen tenderness. Never had he seen anything
 like these. He felt the love of the Adams.
He heard the joy of Eve and her daughters.

He saw the food and the burdens shared.
 He absorbed the kindness and
marveled at the warmth.
Your Browser does not support this plug-in
"Heaven has never seen such beauty, my Lord.
Truly, this is your greatest creation."

"Ah, but you've only seen the sweet.
Now witness the bitter." A stench enveloped the pair.
The angel turned in horror and proclaimed, "What
is it?"

 The Creator spoke only one word: "Selfishness."

 The angel stood speechless as they passed
through centuries of repugnance.
 Never had he seen such filth. Rotten hearts.
Ruptured promises. Forgotten loyalties.
 Children of the creation wandering blindly
in lonely labyrinths.

 "This is the result of choice? the angel asked.

 "Yes."

 "They will forget you?"

 "Yes."

 "They will reject you?"

 "Yes."

 "They will never come back?"

 "Some will. Most won't."

 "What will it take to make them listen?"

 The Creator walked on in time, further and
 further into the future, until
 he stood by a tree. A tree that would
be fashioned into a cradle.
Even then he could smell the hay
that would surround him.

 With another step into the future,
he paused before another tree. It
 stood alone, a stubborn ruler on a bald hill.
The trunk was thick, and the wood
 was strong. Soon it would be cut.
 Soon it would be trimmed. Soon it
would be mounted on the stony brow
 of another hill. And soon he would be
hung on it.

 He felt the wood rub against a back he did not yet wear.

 "Will you go down there?" the angel asked.

 "I will."

 "Is there no other way?"

 "There is not."

 "Wouldn't it be easier to not plant the seed?
 Wouldn't it be easier to not
 give the choice?"

 "It would," the Creator spoke slowly,
 "But to remove the choice is
to remove the love."

 He look around the hill and foresaw a scene.
Three figures hung on three crosses.
Arms spread. Heads fallen forward.
They moaned with the wind.
 Men clad in soldier's garb sat on
the ground near the trio. They played
games in the dirt and laughed.

 Men clad in religion stood off to one side.
They smiled. Arrogant, cocky.
 They had protected God, they thought
by killing this false one.

 Women clad in sorrow huddled at the foot of the hill. Speechless. Faces tear streaked. Eyes downward.
 One put her arm around another and
tried to lead her away. She wouldn't leave.
"I will stay," she said softly,
"I will stay."

 All heaven stood to fight. All nature rose to
rescue. All eternity poised to protect.
But the Creator gave no command.

 "It must be done...," he said, and withdrew.

 But as he stepped in time, he heard the cry
that he would someday scream:
 "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"
He wrenched at tomorrow's agony.

 The angel spoke again. "It would be less painful........"

 The Creator interrupted softly. "But it wouldn't be love."

 They stepped into the Garden again.
The Maker looked earnestly at the
 clay creation. A monsoon of love swelled 
up within him. He had died for the
 creation before he had made him.
God's form bent over the sculptured
face and breathed. Dust stirred on the
lips of the new one. The chest rose,
 cracking the red mud. The cheeks fleshened.
A finger moved. And an eye opened.

 But more incredible than the moving of
the flesh was the stirring of the spirit.
Those who could see the unseen gasped.
Perhaps it was the wind that said it first.
Perhaps what the star saw that moment
is what has made it blink ever since.
Maybe it was left to an angel to whisper it:

 "It looks like ...
 it appears to so much like ...
it is Him!"

 The angel wasn't speaking of the face,
 the features, or the body. He was
 looking inside - at the soul.

 "It's eternal!" gasped another.

 Within the man, God has placed a divine seed.
A seed of himself (A seed of choice).
The God of might had created earth's
mightiest... And the One who
 had chosen to love had created one
who could love in return.

 Now it's our choice.

~~~~ Author Unknown ~~~~