Sermon Illustrations on Love — page 3

The Wonderful Effect of Divine Love

The Wonderful Effect of Divine Love — The Disciple

I BLESS You, O heavenly Father, Father of my Lord Jesus Christ, for having condescended to remember me, a poor creature. Thanks to You, O Father of mercies, God of all consolation, Who with Your comfort sometimes refresh me, who am not worthy of it. I bless You always and glorify You with Your only-begotten Son and the Holy Spirit, the Paraclete, forever and ever.

Ah, Lord God, my holy Lover, when You come into my heart, all that is within me will rejoice. You are my glory and the exultation of my heart. You are my hope and refuge in the day of my tribulation. But because my love is as yet weak and my virtue imperfect, I must be strengthened and comforted by You. Visit me often, therefore, and teach me Your holy discipline. Free me from evil passions and cleanse my heart of all disorderly affection so that, healed and purified within, I may be fit to love, strong to suffer, and firm to persevere.

Love is an excellent thing, a very great blessing, indeed. It makes every difficulty easy, and bears all wrongs with equanimity. For it bears a burden without being weighted and renders sweet all that is bitter. The noble love of Jesus spurs to great deeds and excites longing for that which is more perfect. Love tends upward; it will not be held down by anything low. Love wishes to be free and estranged from all worldly affections, lest its inward sight be obstructed, lest it be entangled in any temporal interest and overcome by adversity.

Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing stronger or higher or wider; nothing is more pleasant, nothing fuller, and nothing better in heaven or on earth, for love is born of God and cannot rest except in God, Who is above all created things.

One who is in love flies, runs, and rejoices; he is free, not bound. He gives all for all and possesses all in all, because he rests in the one sovereign Good, Who is above all things, and from Whom every good flows and proceeds. He does not look to the gift but turns himself above all gifts to the Giver.

Love often knows no limits but overflows all bounds. Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of troubles, attempts more than it is able, and does not plead impossibility, because it believes that it may and can do all things. For this reason, it is able to do all, performing and effecting much where he who does not love fails and falls.

Love is watchful. Sleeping, it does not slumber. Wearied, it is not tired. Pressed, it is not straitened. Alarmed, it is not confused, but like a living flame, a burning torch, it forces its way upward and passes unharmed through every obstacle.

If a man loves, he will know the sound of this voice. For this warm affection of soul is a loud voice crying in the ears of God, and it says: “My God, my love, You are all mine and I am all Yours. Give me an increase of love, that I may learn to taste with the inward lips of my heart how sweet it is to love, how sweet to be dissolved in love and bathe in it. Let me be rapt in love. Let me rise above self in great fervor and wonder. Let me sing the hymn of love, and let me follow You, my Love, to the heights. Let my soul exhaust itself in praising You, rejoicing out of love. Let me love You more than myself, and let me not love myself except for Your sake. In You let me love all those who truly love You, as the law of love, which shines forth from You, commands.”

Love is swift, sincere, kind, pleasant, and delightful. Love is strong, patient and faithful, prudent, long-suffering, and manly. Love is never self-seeking, for in whatever a person seeks himself there he falls from love. Love is circumspect, humble, and upright. It is neither soft nor light, nor intent upon vain things. It is sober and chaste, firm and quiet, guarded in all the senses. Love is subject and obedient to superiors. It is mean and contemptible in its own eyes, devoted and thankful to God; always trusting and hoping in Him even when He is distasteful to it, for there is no living in love without sorrow. He who is not ready to suffer all things and to stand resigned to the will of the Beloved is not worthy to be called a lover. A lover must embrace willingly all that is difficult and bitter for the sake of the Beloved, and he should not turn away from Him because of adversities.

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #10975]

(untitled)

You would hardly imagine gorgeous supermodel Cindy Crawford

turning up at a seminar on dating, but in September she spent two

days at a seminar conducted by John Gray, author of Men Are From

Mars, Women Are From Venus.

During a panel discussion on communication problems between

the sexes Crawford volunteered that communication was seriously

lacking in her failed marriage to Richard Gere. To illustrate the

point she told the following story:

Because of an ulcer, she preferred hot chocolate

in the morning to coffee. Gere's favorite beverage was

tea. One morning, thinking he was doing her a favor, he

brought her a cup of tea. She got in his face and

blasted out an obscenity, followed by, "Haven't you

noticed all this time that I don't drink tea? You do."

How tragic. He thought he was being kind; she took it as an

insult. All of us, and especially married couples, need to be

slow to speak, slow to anger and eager to listen, don't we? Source: People Magazine October 14, 1996. P. 49

All I Remember

Acts 20:35

One day, while I was lying on a massage table in a dark, quiet room waiting for an appointment, a wave of longing swept over me. I checked to make sure I was awake and not dreaming, and I saw that I was as far removed from a dreamy state as one could possibly be. Each thought I had was like a drop of water disturbing a still pond, and I marveled at the peacefulness of each passing moment.

Suddenly my mother’s face appeared – my mother, as she had been before Alzheimer’s disease had stripped her of her mind, her humanity, and 50 pounds. Her magnificent silver hair crowned her sweet face. She was so real and so close I felt I could reach out and touch her. I even smelled the fragrance of Joy, her favorite perfume. She seemed to be waiting and did not speak.

I said, “Oh, Mother, I’m so sorry that you had to suffer with that horrible disease.”

She tipped her head slightly to one side, as though to acknowledge what I had said about her suffering. Then she smiled – a beautiful smile – and said very distinctly, “But all I remember is love.” And she disappeared.

I began to shiver in a room gone suddenly cold, and I knew in my bones that the love we give and receive is all that matters and is all that is remembered. Suffering disappears; love remains.

Her words are the most important I have ever heard, and that moment is forever engraved on my heart.

________

Important Work

Job 29:12

The last to board the plane from Seattle to Dallas were a woman and three children. “Oh please don’t sit next to me,” I thought. “I’ve got so much work to do.” But a moment later an eleven-year-old girl and her nine-year- old brother were climbing over me while the woman and a four- year-old boy sat behind. Almost immediately the older children started bickering while the child behind intermittently kicked my seat. Every few minutes the boy would ask his sister, “Where are we now?” “Shut up!” she’d snap and a new round of squirming and whining would ensue.

“Kids have no concept of important work,” I thought, quietly resenting my predicament. Then in my mind a voice as clear as a song simply said, Love them. “These kids are brats, and I’ve got important work to do,” I countered to myself. My inner voice simply replied, Love them as if they were your children.

Having heard the “Where-are-we-now?” question repeatedly, I turned to the in-flight magazine map, in spite of my important work.

I explained our flight path, dividing it into quarter-hour flight increments and estimated when we would land in Dallas.

Soon they were telling me about their trip to Seattle to see their father who was in the hospital. As we talked they asked about flying, navigation, science and grown-ups’ views about life. The time passed quickly and my “important” work was left undone.

As we were preparing to land, I asked how their father was doing now. They grew quiet and the boy simply said, “He died.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, me too. But it’s my little brother I’m most worried about. He’s taking it real hard.”

I suddenly realized what we’d really been talking about was the most important work we ever face: living, loving and growing in spite of heartbreak. When we said good-bye in Dallas the boy shook my hand and thanked me for being his “airline teacher.” And I thanked him for being mine.

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#4524

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Mom: God's Perfect Creation

John 19:26

Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a mother," writes Erma Bombeck, "I will tell them:

• I loved you enough to bug you about where you were going, with whom, and

what time you will get home.

• I loved you enough to insist that you buy a bike with your own money, that

you could afford.

• I loved you enough to be silent and to let you discover on your own, that

your boyfriend was a creep.

• I loved you enough to make you return a Milky Way with a bite out of it to

a drugstore to confess that you had stolen it.

• I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your

room; a job that would have taken me fifteen minutes.

• I loved you enough to say to you, "Yes, you can go with your friends to

Disney World on Mother's Day."

• I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment, disgust and tears

in my eyes.

• I loved you enough not to make excuses for your lack of respect or bad

manners.

• I loved you enough to admit that I was wrong and ask for your forgiveness.

• I loved you enough to ignore what every other mother did or said.

• I loved you enough to let you stumble, fall, hurt and fail.

• I loved you enough to let you assume responsibility for your own actions at

age 6, 10, or 16.

• I loved you enough to figure you would lie about the party being

chaperoned, but forgave you for it, after discovering that I was right.

• I loved you enough to accept you for what you are, not what I wanted you to

be.

• But most of all, I loved you enough to say "no" when you hated me for it.

That was the hardest, hardest part of all."

Billy and Ronald

Mark 3:10

A number of years ago (1983-1987), I had the opportunity to play the character of Ronald McDonald for the McDonald’s Corporation. My marketplace covered most of Arizona and a portion of Southern California.

One of our standard events was “Ronald Day.” One day each month, we visited as many of the community hospitals as possible, bringing a little happiness into a place where no one ever looks forward to going. I was very proud to be able to make a difference for children and adults who were experiencing some “down time.” The warmth and gratification I would receive stayed with me for weeks. I loved the project, McDonald’s loved the project, the kids and adults loved it and so did the nursing and hospital staffs.

There were two restrictions placed on me during a visit. First I could not go anywhere in the hospital without McDonald’s personnel (my handlers) as well as hospital personnel. That way, if I were to walk into a room and frighten a child, there was someone there to address the issue immediately. And second, I could not physically touch anyone within the hospital. They did not want me transferring germs from one patient to another. I understood why they had this “don’t touch” rule, but I didn’t like it. I believe that touching is the most honest form of communication we will ever know. Printed and spoken words can lie; it is impossible to lie with a warm hug.

Breaking either of these rules, I was told, meant I could lose my job.

Toward the end of my fourth year of “Ronald Days,” as I was heading down a hallway after a long day in grease paint and on my way home, I heard a little voice. “Ronald, Ronald.”

I stopped. The soft little voice was coming through a half-opened door. I pushed the door open and saw a young boy, about five years old, lying in his dad’s arms, hooked up to more medical equipment than I had ever seen. Mom was on the other side, along with Grandma, Grandpa and a nurse tending to the equipment.

I knew by the feeling in the room that the situation was grave. I asked the little boy his name - he told me it was Billy - and I did a few simple magic tricks for him. As I stepped back to say good-bye, I asked Billy if there was anything else I could do for him.

“Ronald, would you hold me?”

Such a simple request. But what ran through my mind was that if I touched him, I could lose my job. So I told Billy I could not do that right now, but I suggested that he and I color a picture. Upon completing a wonderful piece of art that we were both very proud of, Billy again asked me to hold him. By this time my heart was screaming “yes!” But my mind was screaming louder. “No! You are going to lose your job!”

This second time that Billy asked me, I had to ponder why I could not grant the simple request of a little boy who probably would not be going home. I asked myself why was I being logically and emotionally torn apart by someone I had never seen before and probably would never see again.

“Hold me.” It was such a simple request, and yet...

I searched for any reasonable response that would allow me to leave. I could not come up with a single one. It took me a moment to realize that in this situation, losing my job may not be the disaster I feared.

Was losing my job the worst thing in the world?

Did I have enough self-belief that if I did lost my job, I would be able to pick up and start again? The answer was a loud, bold, affirming “yes!” I could pick up and start again.

So what was the risk?

Just that if I lost my job, it probably would not be long before I would lost first my car, then my home...and to be honest with you, I really liked those things. But I realized that at the end of my life, the car would have no value and neither would the house. The only things that had steadfast value were experiences. Once I reminded myself that the real reason I was there was to bring a little happiness to an unhappy environment, I realized that I really faced no risk at all.

I sent Mom, Dad, Grandma and Grandpa out of the room, and my two McDonald’s escorts out to the van. The nurse tending the medical equipment stayed, but Billy asked her to stand and face the corner. Then I picked up this little wonder of a human being. He was so frail and so scared. We laughed and cried for 45 minutes, and talked about the things that worried him.

Billy was afraid that his little brother might get lost coming home from kindergarten next year, without Billy to show him the way. He worried that his dog wouldn’t get another bone because Billy had hidden the bones in the house before going back to the hospital, and now he couldn’t remember where he put them.

These are problems to a little boy who knows he is not going home.

On my way out of the room, with tear-streaked makeup running down my neck, I gave Mom and Dad my real name and phone number (another automatic dismissal for a Ronald McDonald, but I figured that I was gone and had nothing to lose), and said if there was anything the McDonald’s Corporation or I could do, to give me a call and consider it done. Less than 48 hours later, I received a phone call from Billy’s mom. She informed me that Billy had passed away. She and her husband simply wanted to thank me for making a difference in their little boy’s life.

Billy’s mom told me that shortly after I left the room, Billy looked at her and said, “Momma, I don’t care anymore if I see Santa this year because I was held by Ronald McDonald.”

Sometimes we must do what is right for the moment, regardless of the perceived risk. Only experiences have value, and the one biggest reason people limit their experiences is because of the risk involved.

For the record, McDonald’s did find out about Billy and me, but given the circumstances, permitted me to retain my job. I continued as Ronald for another year before leaving the corporation to share the story of Billy and how important it is to take risks.

________

The High Ground of Gratitude

Whenever people expend themselves, they want results. If they lay down life, they want someone's life raised up. If they empty themselves, they want someone to be filled. They want their sufferings to bear fruit. If this doesn't happen, they're tempted to give up. The refusal of the gift quickly becomes a reason not to offer it. Instead of leaning into resistance with love, they'll back off and say, "Well, we tried."

However, the motive for offering love is not that it be successful. Christians want response, but they are not bound to it. They sacrifice for others because they are the recipients of sacrifice. They are the current generation of a long line of broken bodies and shed blood. This gift Christians have received, they freely give. They join the living history in enacting the dream of God, [which] is a people sustained and transformed by mutual sacrificial love.

_________________________________

Fr. John Shea in U. S. Catholic (March 1990), Quoted in Christianity Today, April 23, 1990, page 33.

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True Love Does Not Violate A Command of God

A liberal pastor who believes in the acceptance of homosexuality wrote the following to Rev. Reeves:

Dennis, the moral law is not in some way separate from the law of love.

If it were, love would supercede it; but love is the height of the moral

law. Everything else is intended to bring us more fully into love....

I do understand that you and several others seem honestly concerned for

me. I appreciate that. Do not stop praying for me. But in our prayers

for each other, and in our conversations about the Word, let us have an

attitude of love and grace. Your message was marked more by that than

some others, but when you end with my need to experience the joy of

repentance, it does not feel like love and grace to me.

Reeve's response:

If calling someone to experience the joy of repentance does not feel like love and grace to you, then you must find many of the words of Jesus, Peter, and Paul troubling. I will once again quote Walter Trobisch - encouraging you to find and read his books - particularly " I Married You" and "Love Is a Feeling to be Learned:" "No true act of love violates a command of God." Indeed, the law of love is not seperate from the moral law, but is expressed in it. That which violates the moral law is a violation of the law of love. It is unwise for us to second guess God on the matter of what is loving.

You trivialize the law of love if it contains no commitment to revealed truth, no confrontation of sin, no call to repentance, no concern for reconciliation, no need for a cross. All this happens when we deny that that which God calls sin is not sin.

You have still not responded to my claim that all of Scripture teaches that the fundamental nature and purpose of human sexuality is taught in the Creation accounts, affirmed by Jesus, and used by God throughout Scripture as a model for the His relationship with his people.

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Mother's Hands

Luke 13:34

Night after night, she came to tuck me in, even long after my childhood years. Following her longstanding custom, she'd lean down and push my long hair out of the way, then kiss my forehead.

I don't remember when it first started annoying me -- her hands pushing my hair that way. But it did annoy me, for they felt work-worn and rough against my young skin. Finally, one night, I lashed out at her: "Don't do that anymore -- your hands are too rough!" She didn't say anything in reply. But never again did my mother close out my day with that familiar expression of her love. Lying awake long afterward, my words haunted me.But pride stifled my conscience, and I didn't tell her I was sorry.

Time after time, with the passing years, my thoughts returned to that night.By then I missed my mother's hands, missed her goodnight kiss upon my forehead. Sometimes the incident seemed very close, sometimes far away.But always it lurked, hauntingly, in the back of my mind.

Well, the years have passed, and I'm not a little girl anymore. Mom is in her mid-seventies, and those hands I once thought to be so rough are still doing things for me and my family. She's been our doctor, reaching into a medicine cabinet for the remedy to calm a young girl's stomach or soothe a boy's scraped knee. She cooks the best fried chicken in the world...gets stains out of blue jeans like I never could...and still insists on dishing out ice cream at any hour of the day or night.

Through the years, my mother's hands have put in countless hours of toil, and most of hers were before perma-pressed fabrics and automatic washers!

Now, my own children are grown and gone. Mom no longer has Dad, and on special occasions, I find myself drawn next door to spend the night with her. So it was that late on Thanksgiving Eve, as I drifted into sleep in the bedroom of my youth, a familiar hand hesitantly stole across my face to brush the hair from my forehead. Then a kiss, ever so gently, touched my brow.

In my memory, for the thousandth time, I recalled the night my surly young voice complained: "Don't do that anymore -- your hands are too rough!" I reacted involuntarily. Catching Mom's hand in mind, I blurted out how sorry I was for that night. I thought she'd remember, as I did. But Mom didn't know what I was talking about. She had forgotten -- and forgiven -- long ago.

That night, I fell asleep with a new appreciation for my gentle mother and her caring hands. And the guilt I had carried around for so long was nowhere to be found.

____________________________________

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Love Is When

Love is when someone is there

To share a hurt and hug a care.

Love is when he stands so tall

And smiles and eats a burned meatball!

Love is when your heart belongs

In arms familiar, safe and strong.

Love between a man and wife

Is much like God, Who gave His life.

He meets our needs; He shares and cares;

He gives His love in answered prayer.

So far beyond all earthly loves,

This God awaits your heart’s deep love.

For love is when He grace imparts

To fill your life, and win your heart!

[Original illustration at this number was a duplicate of HolwickID #12286]

Family of God

Love - the visitors in church may not be able to explain it or define it, but they know when it is there and when it is not. A man will get up, dress, pass fifty other churches, and drive all the way across town if he knows that a warm experience awaits him with love and true fellowship in the house of God. For many, the love they receive in church is the only love they will experience all week long. - John Bisagno

Seeing people as objects

Harold Kushner in Who Needs God tells of a short story about the wife of a British colonel in India. She was expecting important guests for tea one afternoon. Looked out from her front porch after lunch & was horrified to see that the man who swept the leaves off her stairs every morning had not shown up for work. When he finally got there, she tore into him. "Don't you realize what you've done to me? Do you know who's coming here in an hour? I ought to fire you and see to it that you don't get another job anywhere in the city!" Without looking up the man said, "I'm sorry. My little girl died during the night and we had to bury her today." For the first time, the colonel's wife began to see this man as something more than just a device that swept her stairs every day. [Harold Kushner, Who Needs God (New York: Summit Books, 1989), p. 100.]

alternate ending:

... bury her today."

For the first time, the colonel's wife was made to see this man not simply as a device for getting her stairs swept but as a human being with a world of needs, pain, relationships to which she had never given thought. Suddenly, he had become a subject, a "thou," a possessor of feelings, rather than an object.

Kill Me Instead

John 15:13

In her book, “Living with Love,” Josephine Robertson tells the story of Rev. Joe Roberts. In 1883 the youthful clergyman arrived by stagecoach in a blizzard to minister to the Indians of Wyoming. This great, wild area had been assigned to the Protestant Episcopal Church by President Grant. Soon after Joe Roberts arrived, the son of the chief was shot by a soldier in a brawl, and Chief Washakie vowed to kill the first white man he met.

Since this might mean the start of a long, bloody feud, young Roberts decided to take action. Seeking out the teepee, fifteen miles away in the mountains, he stood outside and called the chief’s name. When Washakie appeared, Roberts opened his shirt.

“I have heard of your vow,” he said, “I know that the other white men have families, but I am alone. Kill me instead.”

The chief was amazed and motioned him into his tent. “How do you have so much courage?” he asked.

Joe Roberts told him about Christ, His death, His teachings.

They talked for hours. When Joe left, the chief of the Shoshones had renounced his vow to kill and resolved to become a Christian. Washakie had seen love in action.

Every group which calls itself Christian would do well to decide what it should do to make love visible in the home, church, community, and world. For unless love becomes visible it is not love at all.

You looked for me!

In a testimony an evangelist one time described his mother as being love personified. As a boy he found her sitting at the table with an old tramp one day. Apparently she had gone shopping, met the tramp along the way, and invited him home for a warm meal. During the conversation the tramp said, "I wish there were more people like you in the world." Whereupon his mother replied, "Oh, there are. But you must look for them." The old man simply shook his head, saying. "But, lady, I didn't need to look for you. You looked for me." When that mother reflected her Christian kindness toward the tramp she did something more than simply offer him welfare. It was a compassion that went out of its way to love the unlovely. And that's the story of our Savior's live, death and resurrection. He came looking for us in the sick, the maimed, the lame, the bruised, the broken hearted, the wretched wanderer, the poor and forgotten, the prisoner, and the lonely rich. Has he found you?

Making Yourself Happy

Ultimately EACH one of us is responsible for our own happiness. Can't always control our situation -- CAN CONTROL how we react!

Therapist Margaret Oldham says what many of her clients want is an ideal relationship in which they'll be loved completely without having to do anything in return.

“This is the person who is going to be there to talk to, to go somewhere with them, or, you know, a person who's just going to be there and is going to understand them. Most people don't want to have to tell you how they feel. They want you to divine that.... Someone who would understand them so thoroughly that they would never have to say a word and just always be there for them.... What people need to accept is that it is their responsibility to communicate what they need and what they feel, and to realize that they cannot expect someone else magically to make them happy. People want to be made happy, instead of making themselves happy."

___________

"Habits of the Heart: Individualism & Commitment in American Life," p. 15.

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Lack of in Christians

Bob Russell, a preacher in Louisville, tells of attending a Christian conference with the theme: "In All Things Love." Typically folks will go to a registration table and receive a name tag. Preacher registered and came back--"I want a new name tag, this one isn't as nice as the ones you gave out earlier." Woman: "I'm sorry,

we are out of those. We can retype that one if you'd like." Preacher: "No, I want one like you had before!" Woman: "Sir, you don't understand. A number of preachers came in with last minute registrations and we ran out of that style." Preacher: "Well, I'm a preacher and I brought mine in at the last minute and that doesn't make any difference? I want one of those that says, "IN ALL THINGS LOVE" on it, do you understand!?"

Love in A plastic heart

"Does a plastic heart have love in it?" This question was sent by seven-year-old Linda Griggs of Pittsburgh to the famed heart surgeon Dr. Michael DeBakey of Houston, Texas. Dr. DeBakey replied:

"Yes, a plastic heart has love in it, a great deal of love. "The love in a plastic heart comes from many people who love other people, and don't want them to die. "So these people work all day and often all night to build a heart that will make people live longer. "If you think of how much love there would be in hundreds of hearts, then that is how much love there is in a plastic heart."

Working on it

I've got a cartoon that has a picture of a happy, smiling preacher standing at a pulpit, and a sour, grumpy-faced man sitting on a chair on the platform behind him. The preacher is saying: "Remember,

until next week--God loves you, I love you, and Brother Al here is working on it!"

Their Kiss Still Works!

I stand by the bed where a young woman lies, her face postoperative, her mouth twisted in palsy, clownish. A tiny twig of the facial nerve, the one to the muscles of her mouth, has been severed. The surgeon had followed with religious fervor the curve of her flesh; I promise you that. Nevertheless, to remove the tumor in her cheek, I had cut the little nerve.

Her young husband is in the room. He stands on the opposite side of the bed, and together they seem to dwell in the evening lamplight, isolated from me, private. Who are they, I ask myself, he and this wrymouth I have made, who gaze at and touch each other so generously, greedily? The young woman speaks.

"Will my mouth always be like this?" she asks.

"Yes," I say, "it will. It is because the nerve was cut."

She nods, and is silent. But the young man smiles.

"I like it," he says. "It is kind of cute."

All at once I know who he is. I understand, and I lower my gaze. One is not bold in an encounter with a god. Unmindful, he bends to kiss her crooked mouth, and I am so close I can see how he twists his own lips to accommodate to hers, to show her that their kiss still works. (Richard Selzer,"Mortal Lessons")

1 Corinthians 13 Paraphrase

1 Corinthians 13

This paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 13 was written by Karl Haffner, the pastor of the Walla Walla College Seventh-Day Adventist Church, Collegeplace, Washington

If I speak with the confidence of Rush Limbaugh and sing with the ease of Celine Dion but don’t have love, my words are like scraping fingernails on a frozen windshield.

If I can program NASA’s mainframe computer and outsmart my chemistry professor, if I can memorize the Psalms and read Leviticus without dozing, or if I can even predict the future but have not love, my value is equal to a pitcher of warm spit.

If I give my Tommy Hilfiger wardrobe to Goodwill and let my little sister rummage through my closet, if I go to the stake and fry as a martyr, or if I donate a gallon of blood every hour but don’t have love, my offerings are useless.

Love is Patient - even if it means skipping a trip to 31 Flavors in order to tutor an immigrant.

Love is Kind - it doesn’t stoop to Polish jokes, Whitey jibes, slanty-eye stories, or jokes about Jews.

Love does not envy the basketball team captain, the National Merit Finalist, the class president, or even the blonde who sports the most even tan.

Love doesn’t get a swelled head over straight A’s or a scholarship to Princeton. Love isn’t snooty about a new Corvette or a season pass to the world’s premiere ski resort. Love never jeers at the fat kid who hangs out of her T-shirt in PE.

Love smiles when getting cut off on the interstate. Love submits an honest tax return. Love doesn’t whine about the referee’s bad call. Love believes that God always provides the best stuff in life. Love hangs on to hope when the family is splitting apart.

Love does not change like hemlines and hairdos. Love is like the Energizer bunny. It lasts and lasts and keeps on going.

In the end only three things will remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love.

(The Timothy Report, Swan Lake Communications, SwanLake@webcombo.net, November 8, 1999)

Quotes On Love

1.'Tis better to have loved and lost

than never to have loved at all.

--Alfred Lord Tennyson

2. The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.

--G. K. Chesterton

3. We can do no great things, only small things with great love.

--Mother Teresa

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THE VELVETEEN RABBIT

The Velveteen Rabbit is a classy book for children with a

message for adults. In it is a revealing nursery dialogue

between a new toy rabbit and an old skin horse. As they are

lying side by side one day, Rabbit asks Horse:

"What is REAL? Does it mean having things that buzz inside of

you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a

thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long,

long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you

become REAL."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometime," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.

"When you are REAL you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked,

"or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You

become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen

to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or have to be

carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of

your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get

loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't

matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly,

except to people who don't understand."

Invitation John 3:16

No matter how bad you are, how evil you are, or how sinful you are

God loves you. God is crying out to your soul and heart. "I love

you. I love you. I love you." What is your response to the love of

God. Will you say no and laugh in the face of God? Will you refuse

God's love and spit into his face? Or will you say yes to God, yes to

Jesus, and yes to the Holy Spirit? Accept Jesus Christ as your Lord

and Savior. Trust Jesus to save you and let him be the boss of you

life. What will it be? The decision is yours! Are you on the side

of God or are you his enemy?

- Billy Graham

SBC 1982

Story

Soon after his marriage, the famous nineteenth century poet and

composer Thomas Moore was called away on business. On his return he

was not met by his beautiful bride, but by their family doctor. "Your

wife is upstairs. But she has asked you not to come up. She has had

small-pox. The disease has left her once flawless skin pocked and

scarred. She has drawn the shutters, and asked that you never see her

again.

Thomas Moore would not listen to the doctor, but bounded up the

steps to his wife's room. It was black as night inside. He reached

for the gas jets. "No! Don't light the lamps," screamed his wife.

"Go! Please Go! This is the greatest gift I can give you now."

Instead of leaving, he spent most of the night writing a love poem,

which he then set to music. The next morning, in her darkened bedroom

he sang to his wife:

Believe me, if all those your endearing charms,

Which I gaze on so fondly today,

Were to change by tomorrow, and flee in my arms,

Like fairy gifts fading away,

Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art.

Let thy loveliness fad as it will,

And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart

Would entwine itself verdantly still...

The song ended. His bride arose to her feet, crossed the room and

slowly opened the shutters. Love was unafraid of the light of

reality.

Story

A man and his wife visited an orphanage where they hoped to adopt a

child. In an interview with the boy they wanted, they told him in

glowing terms about the many things they could give him. To their

amazement, the little fellow said, "If you have nothing to offer

except a good home, clothes, toys, and the other things that most kids

have - why - I would just as soon stay here." "What on earth could

you want besides those things?" the woman asked. "I just want someone

to love me." said the little boy."

Even little boys know that you are not suppose to live by bread

alone!

- Billy Graham

Quote

We should love God because He is God, and the measure of our love

should be to love him without measure.

- Bernard of Clairvaux

(untitled)

A little girl opened the

door one day to a man taking a census. He wanted to

know the number of children. The little girl started to say:

"There's Mary, Grace, Bobby... " The man interrupted, "Don't tell me names, give

me numbers." The little girl said, "They ain't got numbers, they've got

names." So God calls us by name; His is interested in us personally. with Fair Colors> Gary Bowell p. 177

(untitled)

None of us are loved

perfectly... I heard recently of a couple who were trying to raise their little three year old so that he would never

know fear. They didn't paddle him, they never scolded him, they never said no,

and they let him go where he wanted to go when he wanted to go, and do what he

wanted to do when he wanted to do it. Some of you young people may think

that this sound like heaven... when it didn't sound like heaven to the person

who was telling me this story. This young couple happened to live by a busy

highway. They had to go to a social activity and so they asked my friend to

take care of this little boy. My friend said he had never had such a task on

his hands before. Can YOU imagine trying to take care of a three year old that

knew NO fear? He was continually disappearing... and where did he want to

go???? Of course, he wanted to go out and stand in the middle of the highway

to watch the cars whiz by on either side. The young parents thought that they

were loving the child perfectly but they were just preparing the child for

hurt, injury, and pain.

(untitled)

In the Jewish temple and

tabernacle there burned a lamp, a light of sacrifice

that never went out. Day and night summer and winter, it shed its

soft and mystic glow within the holy place. In the temple of the life our Lord

and Savior Jesus Christ there was a lamp, a light that never went out.

The oil

that supplied it was never exhausted. No scorn, no hostility, no

hatred could ever quench it. It was the light of love. In the church of God there

is a lamp, and light that must never go out. This light is fueled by the

love of God, and is attended by the presence of the Holy Spirit. We must

never allow scorn, hostility, hatred, or any other ungodly thing quench the light

of God's love in our church... .for when that happens the darkness of God's disapproval will settle down on the church and the presence of the

Holy Spirit will quickly leave.

(untitled)

A teenager came home from

choir practice early one evening. His father was incredulous. The boy had never come home early from anything. Looking

over his paper he asked, "What brings you back so soon?" "We had to call off

choir practice for this week," the youth replied. "The organist and the

choir director got in a terrible argument about how to sing `Love Divine,'

so we quit for tonight."

(untitled)

A short story tells about

a fellow who was far away from home, and in a small town. He had in his possession only one thing, a $1,000 bill, but

nothing else, no small change, no identification, nothing. He was famished for

food, ravenously hungry, but he could buy nothing, for no one would take his

$1,000 bill. It was not until he found a way to break that bill down into

small change that he could spend any of it. Our love for God, quite

similarly, must be broken down into small, spendable change.

(untitled)

There is a story that

comes to us out of the long ago of a king who organized a great race within his kingdom. All the young men of the kingdom

participated. A bag of gold was to be given to the winner, and the

finish line was within the courtyard of the king's palace. The race was run, and

the runners were surprised to find in the middle of the road leading to

the king's palace a great pile of rocks and stones. But they managed to scramble

over it or to run around it and eventually to come to the courtyard. Finally

all the runners had crossed the finish line except one. But still the king did

not call the race off. After a while one lone runner came through the

gate. He lifted a bleeding hand and said, "O King, I am sorry that I am so

late. But you see, I found in the road a pile of rocks and stones, and it took

me a while, and I wounded myself in removing them." Then he lifted the

other hand, and in it was a bag. He said, "But, Great King, I found beneath the

pile of rocks this bag of gold." The king said, "My son, you have won the

race, for that one runs best who makes the way safer for those who follow."

PREACHING TODAY

(untitled)

In San Francisco, Dr.

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross meets every other week with the victims of AIDS who are dying. Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross is one of

the outstanding psychiatrists in the world. She's Swiss... and from

her, Jew and Christian physicians and pastors have all come to learn the

various stages which each of us go through when we are told we are to die. You've

seen it is your own family - at first bewilderment, then anger and bitterness. .

. then after all the stages finally simple acceptance of death. Meeting with

the same dying men every other week, she couldn't help but notice recently the

face of a man who would attract anyone. He had disintegrated with this

disease to the point of having holes in his face. She glanced over at him and

instead of being in despair, he was radiant. She kept noticing him as she talked

and tried to encourage these young men. Finally she said to him: "I wish

you would wait a few moments. I want to ask what on earth has happened to

you. You don't look the same. . you actually look radiant." "You know I'm

from a midwestern town," he said, "it's orthodox and very conservative. When

I became a homosexual and realized I was a homosexual, I broke all

relations with my family. I knew they would never have grandchildren because I

was their only child. I knew they would never have a daughter-in-law to

love. I knew the hurt it would cause, and I broke off all relations.

Recently, I have wanted to see my family. Last week I called home and my mother

answered. I said, 'Mother, I'm a sick man. I would like very much to come home.'

She said, 'We'd love to see you.' When I came up to the door and she

opened it, she must have been shocked at my face; but if she was shocked, it

didn't register. She simply threw her arms around me and told me how much

she loved me. You know, everyone should have a moment of unconditional love. I

had that moment, and I'm now ready to die. That's why I'm radiant." You

don't hear too much about unconditional love. Most people live and die

without experiencing one moment of it. .Ben Haden>

(untitled)

A young man about to

finish seminary, a real soul winner, died an untimely death. Every indication was that he would have a great ministry. He

was killed in an automobile accident. His mother may have cried out

"Would that I had died instead of you... " .Ben Haden>

(untitled)

The teachings of the Hasidic rabbis often provide insight into God's ways. One story comes from Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev in the Ukraine. He confessed that the learned the meaning of love from a drunken peasant. The rabbi was visiting a tavern owner in Poland's countryside. As he entered the tavern, he immediately noticed two peasants at a table. Both were gloriously in their cups. Arms around one another, they were protesting how much each loved the other.

Suddenly Ivan said to his friend, "Peter, tell me, what hurts me?" Stunned, Peter sat back into his chair and blurted out, "How do I know

what hurts you?" Ivan's response cut through the drunken stupor: "If you don't know what hurts me, how can you say that you love me?"

(untitled)

Elderly couple in nursing

home. Constantly fighting, arguing, yelling at each other as they had from the time when they were first married as young

people. Argue and fight from time they get up in morning until they fall in

bed at night. Finally one day the wife says to her husband, "I'll tell you

what, Harvey, let's pray that one of us dies. And after the funeral is over

I'll go to live with my sister."

(untitled)

I read about a man

recently whose son had caused all kinds of trouble. The boy had been in 10 or 12 schools... and he wasn't into high school

yet. No

matter what he was given . . he fouled it up. He never followed

directions; he never did anything when he was asked; and he was a cut-up. Nothing

went right with him. He was enough to make you leave the teaching

profession without anything else being wrong. Well... one day, this man who was

teaching him something and had told him how to do it... noticed that

he did it RIGHT. In the affectionate gesture that you feel for a little boy

who has done something right---the man reached out to hug him... and the

little boy pulled back. He wouldn't let him hug him. "I just wanted you to know

I'm proud of you," the teacher told the little boy. Get the little boy's response: "If MY DAD had done that... it would have saved him a lot

of money." And he never explained what he meant by that remark.

(untitled)

A man was known to carry

a little can of oil wherever he went. If he passed through a door that squeaked, he put a drop of oil on the hinges, and

if a gate was hard to open, he oiled the latch. So he passed through life

lubricating all the creaking places, and making it a little more

pleasant for those who followed after him. There is no telling how many lives we

could keep from "rusting and squeaking" and how many gates we could open to

happiness, if only we would carry a little oil of brotherly love and human kindness

in an effort to prevent lives of Christians from rusting away in sin (I

Thess. 4:9)

(untitled)

John Haggai in his book

tells about Dr. Claude H. Barlow, a missionary to China and one of the most revered foreigners to work in

that land. A strange disease for which he knew no remedy was killing

people. There were no research laboratories for this disease, so Dr. Barlow

conducted his own research. He studied the disease, filling a notebook with his observations. He then procured a vial of disease germs and sailed for

the United States. Before he arrived, he took the germs into his own

body, then went to the John Hopkins University Hospital to be observed. Claude

Barlow was very sick now. He allowed his old professors at John Hopkins to use

him for experimentation. A cure was found, which a healthy Claude Barlow took

back to China with him. His efforts saved countless lives. When asked about

the experience, Dr. Barlow replied, "Anyone would have done the same

thing. I happened to be in a position of vantage and had the chance to offer my

body." I doubt that just anyone would have done that, don't you? Only a

person with a very special kind of love in his or her heart would make that kind of sacrifice. It is that very special kind of love proceeding from the

heart of God that determined to make a supreme sacrifice so that you might be

saved. Without that love we would all still be orphans in a strange and

hostile universe. But that love does exist. It exists in the church ... it

exists among people around this earth who have had an encounter with Jesus.

(untitled)

It reminds me of Ernie

Carpenter's dad. He was courting a girl who loved squirrel meat. One day she asked him to kill her a mess of

squirrels. He said he couldn't because he had to work. She kept after him and

finally said, "If you'll kill me a mess of squirrels I'll give you something better

than squirrel." So, he killed her three nice squirrels, dressed them out,

and took them to her. He waited, went to see her several times, but she didn't

mention the squirrels or her promise. Finally he said, "Now, you promised me

something better than squirrel if I would kill you a mess of squirrels." "Well,"

she said, "after frying those squirrels and making gravy and eating them

with some good biscuits, I've decided that there's nothing better than

squirrel."

(untitled)

On the other hand, some

seem to be over anxious about landing someone who will love them. The mountain man was doing the best he could to be

chivalrous. He carried a washtub on his back and a chicken under his arm, had a cane

in one hand and led a calf with the other. Still his new girlfriend was

wary. Either that or she was trying to cover up what she really wanted. As

they

approached the dark woods she held back, saying, "I'm afraid to walk

with you in there. You might try to hug me and kiss me." "How on earth do you

think I could manage that?" the mountaineer asked. "As you can see, I'm

pretty well loaded down." "Well," she said, "you COULD stick that cane in the

ground, tie the calf up to it, and put the chicken under the washtub."

Stories of Broken Families

A teenage girl is standing at your backdoor. As you open the door you see the tear-streaked face. You invite her in and offer her a coke. You sit across the kitchen table from her. After some small talk, she finally blurts out her real concern: “Three members of my family are suing for divorce at the same time. Rick has moved out from his wife to live with a girlfriend. His wife started running around and got pregnant. Now she has moved back home from her parents who promise to stand by her. She considered an abortion, but decided that it would tear up her folks more than having a baby. She was in nurses training, and now her mother is going to have to keep the baby while she finishes school. The other two divorces are messy and bitter. Divorce is tearing our family apart,” she sighs.

“And another of the boys married a woman who’s become obsessed with the bottle. One day I said to him, ‘Dee, she’s in jail for drunkenness and car theft all over the country. Do you think there’s any hope? Why don’t you divorce her?’ ‘Oh, I couldn’t do that,’ he said. ‘She’s been a wild rascal, but she’s going to be better now. This time when she gets out of jail, I think she’ll straighten up.’ But again and again his high hopes are disappointed. Time and again her human frailty and fickleness have let him down.”

And so, your young neighbor friend pours out her heartache and her disappointment. When she finally runs out of words, you say, “Why don’t we talk to God about it.” She smiles, nods, you both bow your heads and begin to pray for her family....

Why does human sin and weakness seem to shake and shatter our families? Does God really stand by us, strong, sympathetic, and sure? The neighbor girl dries her tears, looks into your face, and smiles. “God always comes through. He’s the one certain thing. His love stands secure. You can count on him. God is stable and constant,” she says.

========

Where can you find lasting love? Where can you live safe form human whim, human fickleness, human weakness, and sin? Where can you find this constant and unchanging love?

Dixie joined your brother’s family just before her fifth birthday. Her bar-hopping parents couldn’t be bothered with little girls, so the court forced them to give up their two cute kids. At her new home, she warned her little sister, “Be good, because this is a lot better than we used to have it. You don’t remember how hungry we were. Nothing in the house to eat but cardboard with catsup on it.”

Your brother and his wife adopted the girls, and all went well for nearly ten years. Then Dixie began to respond to the boys. She’s run away from home and be gone for several days. Her frantic parents would find her, and she’d stay home for a few weeks. A new boyfriend and away she’s go again.

Finally a psychologist consoled them, “Don’t blame yourselves as parents. That pretty girl has been hurt and deserted so much as a child, and that’s all she knows. Hurt and desertion.”

Hurt and desertion. By the time she was seventeen, she was married, and after a year or so she began having children. By twenty-five she was bored and ready to move on. She left her husband and three children. Hurt and desertion all over again. The family knows she lives now in the twilight zone of the greater Chicago area. Nobody wants to talk about it. No one CAN talk about it without a wistful look and a sad, “If only...”

========

Jim is a business man in his mid-forties. His company sends him to Japan a few times a year. He’ unfaithful to his wife. He wants to be free, so he divorces his Christian wife of twenty-five years. She cries a lot and prays. But he is gone from her. He loves Haruka, a young, pretty Japanese girl, he says. His company continues to send him to the Far East on business. He can pick up the affair with the woman in Japan each time he visits Tokyo. Haruka sends word she is going to have a baby. Jim cables her some money. Jasmine, a black-haired baby girl is born. Jim sends them a small allowance.

Suddenly one day back in Chicago Jim is taken violently ill. Doctors discover he has a rapidly spreading form of cancer. Surgery and chemotherapy don’t help very much and Jim grows weaker. He realizes he won’t live more than a few weeks. Mutual friends tell Helen, Jim’s ex-wife. She went through the stages of anger and grief when Jim left. Still she can’t forget she’s a Christian.

One day Helen appears at Jim’s bedside in the hospital. She and Jim try to talk, but it is difficult. Finally Jim breaks down and cries, asking for her forgiveness. Helen gropes for words. “Is there anything I can do?” she finds herself asking.

“It’s Haruka and Jasmine,” Jim whispers. “I’ve spent all my money on doctors and hospitals. I don’t know what will happen to them. All my insurance is still being left to you.”

Helen can’t answer. She leaves Jim’s hospital room and struggles in prayer for several days. A few days before Jim dies, she writes to Haruka inviting them to come to Chicago to live with her. A month after Jim’s funeral a moving scene takes place at O’Hare Airport. Helen takes into her arms a fragile Japanese girl and a frightened child. She welcomes them as family. Helen has made a home for them. Every day she thanks God for the way she has learned to appreciate His undeserved mercy, His constant love.

========

Barney lived as a bachelor with his widowed mother until he was nearly forty. Sometimes on summer Sunday nights he’d visit the country church. After service a neighbor family, the Hendricksons, would pick him up as bowed legs carried him homeward along the gravel road. He’d jump on the running board and crowd his shoulders into their family Ford. Barney’d talk with his neighbor about crops and the weather. When they’d near his driveway, he’d step off onto the roadside and slow himself to a walk. Then he’d shout out into the night, “Much obliged.”

When the Hendricksons got home the kids would climb the stairway to their bedroom muttering under their breath, “Much obliged.” The next day they’d walk through the grass in their bare feet imitating Barney’s awkward, undulating strides. They’d repeat his quaint phrase, “Much obliged; Much obliged,” just to get the feel of the words.

Barney hunted a lot. He trapped fox, raccoon, and muskrats. At one youth meeting he surprised everybody when he won a contest by tucking a pillow under his chin and crowding it down into a pillow-case faster than anybody else could do it. He visited the long, loud meetings at the town hall when some Pentecostal preacher came through the area.

It was on one of those occasions that Barney’s eyes fell on the face of a bouncy sixteen-year-old; she swooned. Everybody around knew her... wild, wicked, and almost unwanted. But she and Barney fell in love and were married.

The community responded secretly, but loudly. You could hear the dynamite, the cowbells, the dishpans, and the big bangs of shotguns in the night. That was their way of wishing them well. The called it a belling or a shivaree. The whole neighborhood gathered around to get a piece of candy. As a status symbol, Barney’s blow-out was a block buster.

Barney bought an old adjacent farm from seventy-year-olds, Al and Alice. They watched over the growing children who came along in the house Barney built. They were company for the kids and their mother while Barney worked in town. Men from near and far started to visit Al and Alice. They’d chat a little, then say, “I guess I’ll drop in next door for a minute.” Barney’s wife would send the kids out to play for twenty minutes or so and then the men would go their way.

She began hitchhiking. She’d leave Barney and the kids for a week or two at a time. One day she went away and never bothered to come back. Barney rose earlier, packed school lunches, fixed breakfast, washed and mended their clothes. He was both father and mother to the brood.

On Wednesday evening he’s pack the motherless children into the car and go to the town hall for prayer meeting. He had to say “Much obliged” to God. When his teenagers were nearly self-sufficient, the doctors discovered Barney was born with only one kidney. His health failed, and he came to the University Hospital. It wasn’t long, however, until he died. They buried him on the lonely ridge where he had buried his dreams of a happy family fifteen long years before.

(untitled)

The famous King Cyrus the

Great was hounded by Cagular, the provincial ruler in this day. He sent out his invincible army, and they captured the

rebel Cagular and his family. The great monarch delayed killing his victim

He interviewed Cagular, and during the conversation decided to spare the

life of this local rival. "What would you do if I spared your life?" Cyrus

asked him. "Oh, King, I'd serve you with all my strength," Cagular replied.

"What would you do if I spared the life of your wife?" Cyrus asked. "I'd serve you

to my death," Cagular answered. Then the mighty Cyrus made Cagular the captain over his southern

forces and sent him to assume command. "Did you see all the silver armor?"

Cagular asked his wife as they journeyed to his new position. "No," she replied.

"Did you see the marble and ornaments in the king's court?" he asked. "No," she

replied again. "Did you see the gold throne where Cyrus say?" "No," she replied.

"Well, what did you see anyway?" Cagular asked her She looked

lovingly into his eyes and answered, "I saw only the face of the man who said he'd

die for me!"

Don't Wait Until It's Too Late!

Trapped without a sleeping bag or a tent in the fierce blizzard

that assaulted the summit of Mount Everest, mountaineer Rob Hall

spoke with his pregnant wife by satellite phone as dusk fell on

Saturday, May 11, 1996.

"Hey, look, don't worry about me," were the 36-year-old New

Zealander's final words, his voice weakened by bitter cold and

frostbite.

Hall had conquered the world's tallest mountain five times. But

as death approached the glory of conquest faded. His heart turned

toward his loved ones. By daybreak the next day rescuers had

abandoned all hope of saving Hall and seven other climbers,

victims of the worst tragedy to strike the 29,028 foot peak since

it was first scaled in 1953.

Men, don't wait for tragedy to strike. Don't wait until "some

day." Open your hearts toward your wives, your children and your

loved ones. Today is the day to set aside personal ambition,

dreams

of glory and the hunger for conquest. Today is the day to

love your wives as you love yourselves.

(untitled)

Soon after Angi and David's sixth anniversary, the couple's home

burned to the ground. Angi's first act, when they were allowed to

hunt through the blackened remains, was to search for their photo

albums.

When she went to tell David that the pictures had indeed

survived, she found him carefully placing in a box some charred,

folded pieces of paper -- their courtship love letters."

As I watched David kneeling there in the ashes," she says, "I was

overcome with the certainty that we were meant for each other. There,

in the face of our greatest tragedy, our first thoughts were not of

our material loss but of the potential loss of these precious parts of

our life together.

As I knelt to help him with the letters, I was certain that we

hadn't lost anything that mattered after all." Reader's Digest, August, 1982

When Do I Die?

Genesis 44:32

"For thy servant became surety for the lad" (Genesis 44:32).

Five-year-old Mary was obliged to undergo an operation, and lost so much blood that it was necessary to resort to blood transfusion. The blood of thirteen-year-old brother Jimmy was found by test to match exactly the little patient's. "Will you give your sister some of your blood, Jim?" asked the doctor. Jimmy set his teeth. "Yes, sir, if she needs it." He was prepared for the transfusion. In the midst of the drawing of the blood, the doctor observed Jimmy growing paler and paler. "Are you ill, Jim?" he asked. "No, sir, but I'm wondering just when I'll die." "Die?" gasped the doctor. "Do you think people give their lives when they give a little blood?" "Yes, sir," replied Jimmy. "And you are giving your life for Mary's?" "Yes, sir," replied Jimmy. Can you tell me of a finer heroism than this?

-- From AMOS R. WELLS, in Christian Herald. Sent by Eleanor L. Griffith, Rockland, Maine.

By William Moses Tidwell, "Effective Illustrations."

(untitled)

Spread love everywhere you go: first of all in your own house.

Give love to your children, to your wife or husband, to a next door

neighbor . . . Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and

happier. Be the living expression of God's kindness; kindness in your

face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile, kindness in your

warm greeting.

- Mother Teresa

(untitled)

A college professor had his sociology class go into the Baltimore

slums to get case histories of 200 young boys. They were asked to

write an evaluation of each boy's future. In every case the students

wrote, "He hasn't got a chance." Twenty-five years later another

sociology professor came across the earlier study. He had his

students follow up on the project to see what had happened to these

boys. With the exception of 20 boys who had moved away or died, the

students learned that 176 of the remaining 180 had achieved more than

ordinary success as lawyers, doctors and businessmen.

The professor was astounded and decided to pursue the matter

further. Fortunately, all the men were in the area and he was able t

ask each one, "How do you account for your success?" In each case the

reply came with feeling, "There was a teacher."

The teacher was still alive, so he sought her out and asked the old

but still alert lady what magic formula she had used to pull these

boys out of the slums into successful achievement.

The teacher's eyes sparkled and her lips broke into a gentle

smile. "It's really very simple," she said. "I loved those boys."

- Eric Butterworth

(untitled)

A young man wrote his sweetheart that he would swim the mighty

ocean for one look in her deep blue eyes. Then he added a P.S., "I'll

be over Saturday night if it doesn't rain."

Love Is the Best Medicine

John 13:1

Love is the best medicine for the sickness of the world, said Karl Menninger, an authority in the field of medicine and psychiatry. He told his staff, "The most important thing you can offer a patient is love. For when people learn to give and receive love, they recover from most of their illnesses, whether physical or emotional."

365 Sermon Illustrations on Love