Three Kinds of Christians
There are three kinds of Christians; the
rowboat type , the sailboat type , and the
steamboat type .
“ The rowboat sort are humanistic , self
dependent , trying to get on with their own
resources . But as those resources ,are limited ,
the progress is limited .
“ The sailboat type depend on the winds .
If the winds are with them , if people are
Constantly complimenting and encouraging
them , they get on . But if the patting on
the back stops , they stop .
“Then there is the steamboat type –
those who have power on the inside , and
they go on whether winds are favorable
or unfavorable .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Inwardly Fashioned for Faith
Inwardly Fashioned for Faith
I am inwardly fashioned for faith, not for fear. Fear is not my native land; faith is. I am so made that worry and anxiety are sand in the machinery of life; faith is the oil. I live better by faith and confidence than by fear, doubt and anxiety. In anxiety and worry, my being is gasping for breath ,these are not my native air. But in faith and confidence, I breathe freely ,these are my native air.
A John Hopkins University doctor says, 'We do not know why it is that worriers die sooner than the non-worriers, but that is a fact."" But I, who am simple of mind, think I know; We are inwardly constructed in nerve and tissue, brain cell and soul, for faith and not for fear. God made us that way. To live by worry is to live against reality.
Poem
Faith is dead to doubts ,dumb to discouragements ,blind to impossibilities ,knows nothing but success.
Faith lifts its hand up through the threatening clouds, lays hold of Him who has all power in heaven and on earth.
Faith makes the up look good ,the outlook bright ,the in look favorable ,and the future glorious.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !!
I am inwardly fashioned for faith, not for fear. Fear is not my native land; faith is. I am so made that worry and anxiety are sand in the machinery of life; faith is the oil. I live better by faith and confidence than by fear, doubt and anxiety. In anxiety and worry, my being is gasping for breath ,these are not my native air. But in faith and confidence, I breathe freely ,these are my native air.
A John Hopkins University doctor says, 'We do not know why it is that worriers die sooner than the non-worriers, but that is a fact."" But I, who am simple of mind, think I know; We are inwardly constructed in nerve and tissue, brain cell and soul, for faith and not for fear. God made us that way. To live by worry is to live against reality.
Poem
Faith is dead to doubts ,dumb to discouragements ,blind to impossibilities ,knows nothing but success.
Faith lifts its hand up through the threatening clouds, lays hold of Him who has all power in heaven and on earth.
Faith makes the up look good ,the outlook bright ,the in look favorable ,and the future glorious.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !!
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
God's Best Things
God’s Best Things
God has His best things for the few
Who dare to stand the test ;
God has His second best for those
Who will not have His best .
I want , among the victor’s throng
To have my name confessed ;
And hear the master say ,”well done ;
My child , you did your best “.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
God has His best things for the few
Who dare to stand the test ;
God has His second best for those
Who will not have His best .
I want , among the victor’s throng
To have my name confessed ;
And hear the master say ,”well done ;
My child , you did your best “.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
The Pastor's Wife
The Pastor’s Wife
In the shadow of the parsonage
Stands a figure often obscure ,
Just behind the faithful pastor
Is his wife ,devout and pure .
She is with him every moment
Helping make his work progress,
And you can’t discount her portion
In his measure of success .
Often behind the scene of action ,
Often never seen or heard ,
Yet she stands forever ready
Just to give a helping word .
It is not in active service
That her worthies really shown ,
But in bearing heavy burdens
That to others are unknown.
With encouragement and vision
She must urge God’s servant on ,
When the shadows are the darkest
And his courage’s almost gone .
With her home forever open
And her work quite never done ,
She is ever his lieutenant
In the battles fought and won .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Thank you ladies for the jobs you do . And thanks to the Pastors and their wives .
In the shadow of the parsonage
Stands a figure often obscure ,
Just behind the faithful pastor
Is his wife ,devout and pure .
She is with him every moment
Helping make his work progress,
And you can’t discount her portion
In his measure of success .
Often behind the scene of action ,
Often never seen or heard ,
Yet she stands forever ready
Just to give a helping word .
It is not in active service
That her worthies really shown ,
But in bearing heavy burdens
That to others are unknown.
With encouragement and vision
She must urge God’s servant on ,
When the shadows are the darkest
And his courage’s almost gone .
With her home forever open
And her work quite never done ,
She is ever his lieutenant
In the battles fought and won .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Thank you ladies for the jobs you do . And thanks to the Pastors and their wives .
Monday, April 25, 2011
One Week
One Week
Last week, a young man in the shipping department asked to take
some time off from work. His wife's grandmother had passed, and
he and his family were driving up north to the funeral.
She passed on the 8th of this month.
I talked with the young man today and asked him how things went.
"You know we went to the funeral for my wife's grandmother and
while we were there, her grandfather died also. She died on the
8th and he died on the 14th. He died 20 minutes after the viewing
of the body at the funeral home. They buried them both at the
same funeral, and they buried them in the same grave,
one on top of the other."
They had been married over 50 years.
The events had the appearance of tragedy, yet I saw something
greater..This letter was found later , He had wrote this letter to her to his wife ,years before . This is true story . I copy it word for word from the letter
My Dearest Daring
"If you live to be a hundred,
I want to live to be a hundred minus one day,
so that I never have to live without you."
That's real marriage. That's real love. It's stuff that most
will only read about in romance novels. Few live it, few feel
it, fewer still would die for it.
Few people realize that to truly achieve a love like that,
you do have to die. You have to die to self.
The grandfather simply couldn't make it one week without his
love. Or maybe, she had already said to him:
"If you live to be a hundred,
I want to live to be a hundred minus one week,
so that I never have to live a week without you."
Thank you . Papa Porter , Though you were just a friend , Dad , You left a mark on my soul . That happen 15 years ago , but I still had the letter he wrote .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Praise God !
Last week, a young man in the shipping department asked to take
some time off from work. His wife's grandmother had passed, and
he and his family were driving up north to the funeral.
She passed on the 8th of this month.
I talked with the young man today and asked him how things went.
"You know we went to the funeral for my wife's grandmother and
while we were there, her grandfather died also. She died on the
8th and he died on the 14th. He died 20 minutes after the viewing
of the body at the funeral home. They buried them both at the
same funeral, and they buried them in the same grave,
one on top of the other."
They had been married over 50 years.
The events had the appearance of tragedy, yet I saw something
greater..This letter was found later , He had wrote this letter to her to his wife ,years before . This is true story . I copy it word for word from the letter
My Dearest Daring
"If you live to be a hundred,
I want to live to be a hundred minus one day,
so that I never have to live without you."
That's real marriage. That's real love. It's stuff that most
will only read about in romance novels. Few live it, few feel
it, fewer still would die for it.
Few people realize that to truly achieve a love like that,
you do have to die. You have to die to self.
The grandfather simply couldn't make it one week without his
love. Or maybe, she had already said to him:
"If you live to be a hundred,
I want to live to be a hundred minus one week,
so that I never have to live a week without you."
Thank you . Papa Porter , Though you were just a friend , Dad , You left a mark on my soul . That happen 15 years ago , but I still had the letter he wrote .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Praise God !
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