Daily Archives April 20, 2015

The True Hero of the Titanic

John Harper was born to a pair of solid Christian parents on May 29th, 1872. It was on the last Sunday of March 1886, when he was thirteen years old that he received Jesus as the Lord of his life. He never knew what it was to \”sow his wild oats.\” He began to preach about four years later at the ripe old age of 17 years old by going down to the streets of his village and pouring out his soul in earnest entreaty for men to be reconciled to God.

As John Harper\’s life unfolded, one thing was apparent…he was consumed by the word of God. When asked by various ministers what his doctrine consisted of, he was known to reply \”The Word of God!\” After five or six years of toiling on street corners preaching the gospel and working in the mill during the day, Harper was taken in by Rev. E. A...


My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word \”shmily\” in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving \”shmily\” around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more.

They dragged \”shmily\” with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows over looking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. \”Shmily\” was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath...

A Story To Live By

My brother-in-law opened the bottom drawer of my sister\’s bureau and lifted out a tissue-wrapped package. \”This,\” he said, \”is not a slip. This is lingerie.\” He discarded the tissue and handed me the slip. It was exquisite; silk, handmade and trimmed with a cobweb of lace. The price tag with an astronomical figure on it was still attached. \”Jan bought this the first time we went to New York, at least 8 or 9 years ago. She never wore it. She was saving it for a special occasion. Well, I guess this is the occasion.\” He took the slip from me and put it on the bed with the other clothes we were taking to the mortician. His hands lingered on the soft material for a moment, then he slammed the drawer shut and turned to me. \”Don\’t ever save anything for a special occasion...

Eternal Ink

I dreamed I was in heaven

Where an angel kept God\’s book.

He was writing so intently

I just had to take a look.

It was not, at first, his writing

That made me stop and think

But the fluid in the bottle

That was marked eternal ink.

This ink was most amazing,

Dark black upon his blotter

But as it touched the parchment

It became as clear as water.

The angel kept on writing,

But as quickly as a wink

The words were disappearing

With that strange eternal ink.

The angel took no notice,

But kept writing on and on.

He turned each page and filled it

Till all its space was gone.

I thought he wrote to no avail,

His efforts were so vain

For he wrote a thousand pages

That he\’d never read again.

And as I watched and wondered that

This awesome sight was mine,

I actually saw a word stay black

As it dried...

Serious Business

Let me take you back a couple years. Come with me as we relearn a lesson; one that has stuck with me, in my present memory, and inspires me yet. I don\’t remember exact conversation, but bear with me as I supply something that would sound normal.

We walk into Elida Road Hardware. An old fashioned hardware store. No automatic door, not a computer in the building. Nothing unusual about the day, or the fact that we go to that store. It is one that I go to fairly often. As we enter the door, two sounds greet us. The sleigh bells of yesteryear, the ones that make that sweet, peaceful tinkle as we open the door. The other sound is the electronic beeper that alerts Andy of our presence.

\”Good afternoon, Ryan,\” comes the cheerful acknowledgment...