Sunday, September 30, 2012

From the web on God Vine

Today's Story



The Shoe Man My alarm went off
It was Sunday again.
I was sleepy and tired
My one day to sleep in.
But the guilt I would feel
The rest of the day
Would have been too much
So I'd go and I'd pray.

I showered and shaved
I adjusted my tie.
I got there and sat
In a pew just in time.
Bowing my head in prayer
As I closed my eyes.
I saw the shoe of the man next to me
Touching my own. I sighed.
With plenty of room on either side
I thought, "Why must our soles touch?"
It bothered me, his shoe touching mine
But it didn't bother him much.







A prayer began: "Our Father"...

I thought, "This man with the shoes
has no pride.
They're dusty, worn, and scratched
Even worse, there are holes on the side!"

"Thank You for blessings," the prayer went on.

The shoe man said
a quiet "Amen."
I tried to focus on the prayer
But my thoughts were on his shoes again.
Aren't we supposed to look our best
When walking through that door?
"Well, this certainly isn't it," I thought,
Glancing toward the floor.

Then the prayer was ended
And the songs of praise began.
The shoe man was certainly loud
Sounding proud as he sang.
His voice lifted the rafters
His hands were raised high.
The Lord could surely hear
The shoe man's voice from the sky.

It was time for the offering
And what I threw in was steep.
I watched as the shoe man reached
Into his pockets so deep.
I saw what was pulled out
What the shoe man put in.
Then I heard a soft "clink"
as when silver hits tin.

The sermon really bored me
To tears, and that's no lie
It was the same for the shoe man
For tears fell from his eyes.
At the end of the service
As is the custom here
We must greet new visitors
And show them all good cheer.

But I felt moved somehow
And wanted to meet the shoe man
So after the closing prayer
I reached over and shook his hand.
He was old and his skin was dark
And his hair was truly a mess
But I thanked him for coming
For being our guest.

He said, "My names' Charlie
I'm glad to meet you, my friend."
There were tears in his eyes
But he had a large, wide grin
"Let me explain," he said
Wiping tears from his eyes.
"I've been coming here for months
And you're the first to say 'Hi.'"

"I know that my appearance
Is not like all the rest
"But I really do try
To always look my best.
"I always clean and polish my shoes
Before my very long walk.
"But by the time I get here
They're dirty and dusty, like chalk."

My heart filled with pain
and I swallowed to hide my tears
As he continued to apologize
For daring to sit so near.
He said, "When I get here
I know I must look a sight.
"But I thought if I could touch you
Then maybe our souls might unite."

I was silent for a moment
Knowing whatever was said
Would pale in comparison
I spoke from my heart, not my head.









"Oh, you've touched me," I said,
"And taught me, in part;
"That the best of any man
Is what is found in his heart."

The rest, I thought,
This shoe man will never know.
Like just how thankful I really am
That his dirty old shoe touched my soul




 

Friday, September 28, 2012

Thought for the Day

The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit.” -1 Corinthians 2:14

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

On My Doorstep

View the Sept-Oct, 2012 Issue
We are to use our different gifts in accordance with the grace that God has given us. . . . Whoever shares with others should do it generously.
- Romans 12:6, 8 (TEV)
After I had two children in two years, I couldn’t be counted on to even show up at church—mostly because often one or both of my two young children would have the sniffles. Ironically, before this time, I was on the church staff in children’s ministry, where daily I could use my gift of teaching. I mourned the loss of my ministry.
Then one morning, a friend who is also a stay-at-home mom called me — in tears, overwhelmed, and lonely. I told her I’d be right over and bring my kids to play with hers. We talked all morning about our similar struggles, and she seemed to grow stronger.
Later I thought of another childhood friend. She is a mother of six, on public assistance, with no car and utterly alone with no support from her family. Though I continually feel inadequate in the face of her needs, I’m beginning to see various ways I can help. I am learning through my relationships with these women that being a friend can be a powerful, challenging ministry.

The Author

Renee Lannan (Pennsylvania, USA)

Thought for the Day

To see a picture of Renee and her family, go to devotional.upperroom.org/blog.

Prayer

Dear God, our Companion, help us to see that you always have ways to use us, no matter our circumstances. Show us how we can serve. Amen.

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

From the Upper Room

Remembering 9/11


The spirit of the Lord God. . . has anointed me; . . . to provide for those who mourn in Zion — to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.
- Isaiah 61:1, 3 (NRSV)
Last year marked the 10-year anniversary of the attack on the World Trade Center towers in New York City. For me, one of the most poignant images displayed during the remembrances was the picture of emergency-room workers at Manhattan hospitals waiting for patients who never came. The number of people treated was less than expected because many of the people who were trapped in the two buildings were simply turned into dust.
Even after horrible tragedies, our attention quickly turns back to the mundane — the squabbling of politicians, hostility among polarized groups, the petty pressures that obscure our deeper, larger, higher calling as people created by God. But still I couldn’t forget that image of the waiting hospital workers.
Where do we go after loss, disappointment, tragedy? God is always at work to create new life, abundant life, eternal life from the dust of our own and others’ lives. What is the new work that God wants us to help bring out of the dust of others’ losses? Each one of us “dusty” folks is called to become God’s agent working to bring fullness of life in a dusty, wounded world.

The Author James A. Harnish

Thought for the Day

Where can I be part of God’s work of bringing new life?

Prayer

Dear God, our Creator, we are only dust; but you make wonderful creations from dust. Help us to see and to do our part in bringing new life to our homes, our neighborhoods, your world. Amen.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Words to Live By

Jeremiah 17:5-8

17:5 Thus says the LORD: Cursed are those who trust in mere mortals and make mere flesh their strength, whose hearts turn away from the LORD.
17:6 They shall be like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see when relief comes. They shall live in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land.
17:7 Blessed are those who trust in the LORD, whose trust is the LORD.
17:8 They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes, and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious, and it does not cease to bear fruit.