Her Arm's

Jerry Butler lost his legs in a 1965 land mine explosion in Vietnam. He returned home a war hero. Twenty years later, he proved once again that heroism comes from the heart.
Butler was working in his garage in Greenville ,S.C. on a hot summer day; when he heard a woman’s screams coming from a nearby house. He began rolling his wheelchair toward the house but the dense shrubbery wouldn’t allow him access to the back door. So he got out of his chair and started to crawl through the dirt and bushes.
“I had to get there”, he says. “It didn’t matter how much it hurt”. When Butler arrived at the pool there was a three-year-old girl named Peggy Hanes lying at the bottom. She had been born without arms and had fallen in the water and couldn’t swim. Her mother stood over her baby screaming frantically. Butler dove to the bottom of the pool and brought little Peggy up to the deck. Her face was blue, she had no pulse and was not breathing.
Butler immediately went to work performing CPR to revive her while Peggy’s mother telephoned the fire department. She was told the paramedics were already out on a call. Helplessly, she sobbed and hugged Butler’s shoulder.
As Butler continued with his CPR, he calmly reassured her. Don’t worry, he said. “I was her arms to get out of the pool. It’ll be okay. I am now her lungs. Together we can make it”.
Seconds later the little girl coughed, regained consciousness, and began to cry. As they hugged and rejoiced together the mother asked Butler how he knew it would be okay. The truth is, “I didn’t know”, he told her. “But when my legs were blown off in the war, I was all alone in a field. No one was there to help except a little Vietnamese girl. As she struggled to drag me into her village, she whispered in broken English, ‘It okay. You can live. I be your legs. Together we make it’ “. Her kind words brought hope to my soul and I wanted to do the same for Peggy .There are simply those times when we cannot stand alone. There are those times when we need someone to be our legs, our arms, our friend .
Jan Bagwell
God Bless !
Jerry old friend, you will be miss.

Take Note of The Little Things Around You

I had a very special teacher in high school many years ago whose husband unexpectedly died of a heart attack. About a week later his death, she shared some of her insights with us.
As the late afternoon sunlight came streaming in through the classroom windows and the class was nearly over, she moved a few things aside on the edge of her desk and sat down there. With a gentle look of reflection on her face, she paused and said, “Before class is over, I would like to share with all of you a thought that is unrelated to class, but which I feel is very important.”
“Each of us is put here on earth to learn, share, love, appreciate and give of ourselves. None of us knows when this fantastic experience will end. It can be taken away at any moment. Perhaps this is a way of telling us that we must make the most out of every single day.”
Her eyes beginning to water, she went on, “So I would like you all to make me a promise. From now on, on your way to school, or on your way home, find something beautiful to notice. It doesn’t have to be something you see, it could be a scent – perhaps of freshly baked bread wafting out of someone’s house, or it could be the sound of the breeze slightly rustling the leaves in the trees, or the way the morning light catches the autumn leaf as it falls gently to the ground.
Please look for these things, and cherish them. For, although it may sound trite to some, these things are the “stuff” of life. The little things we are put here on earth to enjoy. The things we often take for granted. We must make it important to notice them, for at any time…it can all be taken away.” The class was completely quiet. We all picked up our books and filed out of the room silently.
That afternoon, I noticed more things on my way home from school than had that whole semester. Every once in a while, I think of that teacher and remember what an impression she made on all of us, and I try to appreciate all of those things that sometimes we all overlook.

Jan Bagwell

God Bless !
God has created us a beautiful world , let enjoy it .

Gold Box Of Kisses

The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.
Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy." He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty.
He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside it?"
The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said,"Oh, Daddy, it is not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy."
The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.
It is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.
In a very real sense, each of us as humans have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family and God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless!
I pray that God will help each one of you fine a Gold Box Of  Kisses. 
Pray for Pastor David  and Hali Bagwell ,Scott ,Elizabeth Bagwell and my darling Grandchild Emily. Jimmy D Holiday , Mary Phillips and Billy Phillips, Judy Pangborn , Frankie , Carol , CW,and sis, Judy Hamlin

The Touch of The Nazarene

THE TOUCH OF THE NAZARENE

He washed my eyes with tears, that I might see
That precious blood He shed at Calvary
He touched my ears with love, that I might hear
His voice that speaks to me so soft and clear.
He gently touched my heart and holds it in His Hands,
And now I know that this was as He planned.
So I might learn of Him by sight and sound
As He took my sin and shame and gave His love profound.
Now his Spirit dwells deep within my soul
And His presence there keeps me well and whole.
He has given to me His resurrection power
So I can fly away home at any hour!
How could God love us so much that He gave his only Son
To die on that cruel Tree, so our salvation was truly won.
His love for us, and not those awful nails held Him there
He was God’s promise to the world - How much he cared!
Our Savior's touch has brought me joy and keeps my life serene
Since I have felt that Touch of the Nazarene.
You too can feel that touch, as I have done
And as you feel it you’ll know your Salvation’s truly won.
So let him wash your eyes, so you too can see
God’s Precious Son and live eternally.
You can hear His voice as He was your soul
And you will know He’ll keep you well and whole.
When He calls you home, to His mansions above
You’ll fly away home on wings of love.
You’ll walk that Glory Road of Gold and worship at His feet
When face to face The Nazarene you’ll meet.
So when He calls you home through time and space
And you meet your Savior face to face
What joy you’ll share and you are home at last
Safe with Jesus - freed from all your past. 
Jan Bagwell
God Bless

Hell-Bound Train

A man lay down on a barroom floor,
Having drunk so much he could drink no more;
So he fell asleep with a troubled brain
To dream that he rode on a hell-bound train.
The engine with murderous blood was damp
And was brilliantly lit with a brimstone lamp;
An imp, for fuel, was shoveling bones,
While the furnace rang with a thousand groans.
The boiler was filled with lager beer
And the devil himself was the engineer;
The passengers were a most motley crew-
Church member, atheist, Gentile, and Jew.
Rich men in broadcloth, beggers in rags,
Handsome young ladies, and withered old hags,
Yellow and black men, red, brown and white,
All chained together-O God, what a sight!
While the train rushed on at an awful pace-
The sulphurous fumes scorched their hands and face;
Wider and wider the country grew,
As faster and faster the engine flew.
Louder and louder the thunder crashed
And brighter and brighter the lightning flashed;
Hotter and hotter the air became
Till the clothes were burned from each quivering frame.
And out of the distance there arose a yell,
“Ha, ha,” said the devil, “we’re nearing hell!”
Then oh, how the passengers all shrieked with pain
And begged the devil to stop the train.
But he capered about and danced for glee,
And laughed and joked at their misery.
“My faithful friends, you have done the work
And the devil never can a payday shirk.
“You’ve bullied the weak, you’ve robbed the poor,
The starving brother you’ve turned from the door;
You’ve laid up gold where the canker rust,
And have given free vent to your beastly lust.
“You’ve justice scorned, and corruption sown,
And trampled the laws of nature down.
You have drunk, rioted, cheated, plundered, and lied,
And mocked at God in your hell-born pride.
“You have paid full fair, so I’ll carry you through,
For it’s only right you should have your due.
Why, the laborer always expects his hire,
So I’ll land you safe in the lake of fire,
“Where your flesh will waste in the flames that roar,
And my imps torment you forevermore.”
Then the cowboy awoke with an anguished cry,
His clothes wet with sweat and his hair standing high
Then he prayed as he never had prayed till that hour
To be saved from his sin and the demon’s power;
And his prayers and his vows were not in vain,
For he never rode the hell-bound train.
Jan Bagwell
God Bless
Don't be this man !!