Kinta 01 90th anniversary gathering


01 Kinta 90th Anniversary Gathering photo is now published!

Monday, April 23, 2007

Dwight Nelson recently told a true story about the pastor of his church.

He had a kitten that climbed up a tree in his backyard and then was afraid to come down. The pastor coaxed, offered warm milk, etc. The kitty would not come down. The tree was not sturdy enough to climb, so the pastor decided that if he tied a rope to his car and drove away so that the tree bent down, he could then reach up and get the kitten.He did! All the while, checking his progress in the car frequently, then figured if he went just a little bit further, the tree would be bend sufficiently for him to reach the kitten. But as he moved a little further forward, the rope broke. The tree went "boing!" and the kitten instantly sailed through the air - out of sight. The pastor felt terrible. He walked all over the neighborhood asking people if they'd seen a little kitten. No. Nobody had seen a stray kitten. So he prayed, "Lord, I just commit this kitten to your keeping," and went on about his business. A few days later he was at the grocery store, and met one of his church members. He happened to look into her shopping cart and was amazed to see cat food. Now this woman was a cat hater and everyone knew it, so he asked her, "Why are you buying cat food when you hate cats so much?" She replied, "You won't believe this," and told him how her little girl had been begging her for a cat, but she kept refusing. Then a few days before, the child had begged again, so the Mom finally told her little girl, "Well, if God gives you a cat, I'll let you keep it." (Can you see where this heading?) She told the pastor, "I watched my child go out in the yard, get on her knees, and ask God for a cat. And really, Pastor, you won't believe this, but I saw it with my own eyes. A kitten suddenly came flying out of the blue sky, with its paws outspread, and landed right in front of her." Never underestimate the Power of God and His unique sense of humor. The Teacher and the 6 year old One day a 6 year old girl was sitting in a classroom. The teacher was going to explain evolution to the children. The teacher asked a little boy: TEACHER: Tommy do you see the tree outside? TOMMY: Yes. TEACHER: Tommy, do you see the grass outside? TOMMY: Yes TEACHER: Go outside and look up and see if you can see the sky. TOMMY: Okay. (He returned a few minutes later) Yes, I saw the sky. TEACHER: Did you see God? TOMMY: No. TEACHER: That's my point. We can't see God because he isn't there. He doesn't exist. A little girl spoke up and wanted to ask the boy some questions. The teacher agreed and the little girl asked the boy: LITTLE GIRL: Tommy, do you see the tree outside? TOMMY: Yes. LITTLE GIRL: Tommy do you see the grass outside? TOMMY: Yessssss (getting tired of the same questions by this time). LITTLE GIRL: Did you see the sky? TOMMY: Yessssss LITTLE GIRL: Tommy, do you see the teacher? TOMMY: Yes LITTLE GIRL: Do you see her brain? TOMMY: No LITTLE GIRL: Then according to what we were taught today in school, she must not have one! "FOR WE WALK BY FAITH, NOT BY SIGHT" May this be a lesson, don't judge people or things you can't see

Sand and Stone

A story tells that two friends were walking through the desert. During some point of the journey they had an argument, and one friend slapped the other one in the face. The one who got slapped was hurt, but without saying anything, wrote in the sand: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SLAPPED ME IN THE FACE. They kept on walking until they found an oasis, where they decided to take a bath. The one who had been slapped got stuck in the mire and started drowning, but the friend saved him. After he recovered from the near drowning, he wrote on a stone: TODAY MY BEST FRIEND SAVED MY LIFE. The friend who had slapped and saved his best friend asked him, "After I hurt you, you wrote in the sand and now, you write on a stone, why?" The other friend replied "When someone hurts us we should write it down in sand where winds of forgiveness can erase it away. But, when someone does something good for us, we must engrave it in stone where no wind can ever erase it." LEARN TO WRITE YOUR HURTS IN THE SAND AND TO CARVE YOUR BENEFITS IN STONE. They say it takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them.

Beautiful One Liners.

1. Give God what's right -- not what's left
2. Man's way leads to a hopeless end -- God's way leads to an endless hope.
3. A lot of kneeling will keep you in good standing.
4. He who kneels before God can stand before anyone.
5. In the sentence of life, the devil may be a comma -- but never let him be the period.
6. Don't put a question mark where God puts a period.
7. Are you wrinkled with burden? Come to the church for a face-lift.
8. When praying, don't give God instructions - just report for duty.
9. Don't wait for six strong men to take you to church.
10. We don't change God's message -- His message changes us.
11. The church is prayer-conditioned.
12. When God ordains, He sustains.
13. WARNING: Exposure to the Son may prevent burning.
14. Plan ahead -- It wasn't raining when Noah built the ark.
15. Most people want to serve God, but only in an advisory position.
16. Suffering from truth decay? Brush up on your Bible.
17. Exercise daily -- walk with the Lord.
18. Never give the devil a ride -- he will always want to drive.
19. Nothing else ruins the truth like stretching it.
20. Compassion is difficult to give away because it keeps coming back.
21. He who angers you controls you.
22. Worry is the darkroom in which negatives can develop. 23. Give Satan an inch & he'll be a ruler.
24. Be ye fishers of men -- you catch them & He'll clean them.
25. God doesn't call the qualified, He qualifies the called.
26. Read the Bible -- It will scare the hell out of you.

The Pretty One

This was the last litter of puppies we were going to allow our Cocker Spaniel to have. It had been a very long night for me. Precious, our only black Cocker was having a very difficult time with the delivery of her puppies.I laid on the floor beside her large four-foot square cage watching her every movement. I was watching and waiting just in case we had to rush her to the veterinarian.After six hours the puppies started to appear. The first born was a black and white party dog. The second and third puppies were tan and brown in color.The fourth and fifth were also spotted black and white. "One, two, three, four, five," I counted to myself as I walked down the hallway to wake up Judy and tell her that everything was fine. As we walked back down the hallway and into the spare bedroom, I noticed a sixth puppy had been born and was now lying all by itself over to the side of the cage.I picked up the small puppy and laid it on top of the large pile of puppies, which were whining and trying to nurse on the mother. Instantly Precious pushed the small puppy away from rest of the group and refused to recognize it as a member of her family."Something's wrong," said Judy. I reached over and picked up the puppy. My heart sank inside my chest when I saw the little puppy was hare-lipped and could not close its little mouth.We had gone through this once before last year with another one of our cockers. That experience like to have killed me when the puppy died and I had to bury it. If there was any way to save this animal I was going to give it my best shot.All the puppies born that night, with the exception of the small hare-lipped pup, were very valuable because of their unusual coloring. Most would bring between five to seven hundred dollars each.The next day I took the puppy to the vet. I was told nothing could be done unless we were willing to spend about a thousand dollars to try and correct the defect. He told us that the puppy would die mainly because it could not suckle.After returning home Judy and I decided that we could not affordto spend that kind of money without getting some type of assurances from the vet that the puppy had a chance to live. However, that did not stop me from purchasing a syringe and feeding the puppy by hand, which I did every day and night, every two hours, for more than ten days.The fifth week I placed an ad in the newspaper, and within a week we had taken deposits on all of the pups, except the one with the deformity.The little guy had learned to eat on his own as long as it was soft canned food.Late that afternoon I had gone to the store to pick up a few groceries. Upon returning I happened to see the old retired school teacher, who lived across the street from us, waving at me. She had read in the paper that we had puppies for sale and was wondering if she might buy one from us for her grandson.I told her all the puppies had been sold, but I would keep my eyes open for anyone else who might have a cocker spaniel for sale. I also mentioned we never kept a deposit should someone change their mind, and if so I would let her know. Within days all but one of the puppies had been picked up by their new owners.This left me with one brown and tan cocker, as well as the smaller hare-lipped puppy.Two days passed without me hearing anything from the gentleman who had placed a deposit on the tan and brown pup. So I telephoned the school teacher and told her I had one puppy left and that she was welcome to come and look at it. She advised me that she was going to pick up her grandson and would come over about eight o'clock that evening. Judy and I were eating supper when we heard a knock on the front door.When I opened the door, the man who had placed a $100 deposit on the dog was standing there. We walked inside where I filled out the paperwork, he paid me the balance of the money, and Ihanded him the puppy.Judy and I did not know what to do or say if the teacher showed up with her grandson. Sure enough at exactly eight o'clock the doorbell rang. I opened the door and there was the school teacher with her grandson standing behind her. I explained to her the man had come for the puppy just an hour before and therewere no puppies left."I'm sorry, Jeffery. They sold all the puppies," she told her grandson.Just at that moment, the small puppy left in the bedroom began to yelp."My puppy! My puppy!" yelled the little boy as he ran out frombehind his grandmother.I just about fell over when I saw that the small child was hare- lipped. The boy ran past me as fast as he could down thehallway to where the puppy was still yelping. When the three of us made it to the bedroom, the small boy was holding the puppy in his arms. He looked up at his grandmother and said, "Look Grandma. They sold all the puppies except the pretty one, andhe looks just like me."Well, old Grandma wasn't the only one with tears in her eyes that day. Judy and I stood there, not knowing what to do. "Is this puppy for sale?" asked the school teacher."My grandma told me these kind of puppies are real expensive and that I have to take real good care of it," said the little boy who was now hugging the puppy."Yes, ma'am. This puppy is for sale."The lady opened her purse, and I could see several one-hundred dollar bills sticking out of her wallet.I reached over and pushed her hand back down into her purse so that she would not pull her wallet out."How much do you think this puppy is worth?" I asked the boy."About a dollar?" He replied."No. This puppy is very, very expensive; more than a dollar."I told him."I'm afraid so." said his grandmother.The boy stood there pressing the small puppy against his cheek."We could not possibly take less than two dollars for this puppy," Judy said squeezing my hand."Like you said, 'It's the pretty one'". She continued.The school teacher took out two dollars and handed it to the young boy."It's your dog now, Jeffery. You pay the man."I think it must be a wonderful feeling for any young person to look at themselves in the mirror and see nothing, except "The pretty one."There is a light that shines beyond all things on earth, beyond the highest, the very highest heavens. This is the light that shines in your heart.


Maybelle was her name, but everyone affectionately called her "Granny." Granny was a bit eccentric but well loved by our community as well as family. A spry old woman, she was always on the go, never slowing down. Even as children, we had trouble keeping up with Granny. Granny loved pearls. The odd thing was, that as much as she loved them, no one was allowed to buy them for her. She would often buy herself pearls, only for them to disappear. We never understood this. How a person could lose something as valuable as pearls and not seem to worry or care that they lost them, was beyond our small minds and comprehension. On Granny's bedroom dresser was another reminder of how peculiar she was. It was a small golden hand-crafted box. Cherubs were delicately carved in the fine gold. Instead of using this beautiful and valuable box for the safekeeping of her pearls, nestled in the soft purple lining were a thorn and a mustard seed. Often, she would loving and tearfully look at the contents or delicately touch the box. How we laughed at Granny. She was such a foolish old woman to keep such nonsense and worthless items in this priceless box all the while unable to keep track of the real valuables. Granny was in her seventies when she was diagnosed with cancer. How angry I was at her God for allowing such a disease to attack and ravish her body. How angry I was at her for the calmness and acceptance she had of her inevitable death. I watched as my lively grandmother became bedridden. I was sixteen the year she died. I cried for myself, for I knew that life would never be the same without her. And I was angry at her for leaving. I was angry at God for allowing her to suffer so much before He took her away. The whole town turned out for Granny's funeral. Again, I was angered. Instead of tears and mourning, I saw smiles, laughter and elebration. It seemed as if they were having a grand party instead of a funeral. Then, one by one people started coming up to the platform to speak, each carrying two small boxes with them. The first to speak was the woman who ran the shelter for abused women. As she spoke, chills began to creep up my spine. "I was married for years to a man who both mentally and physically abused me. Even though I lived in terror with him, the though of leaving also frightened me. I had two small children and no where to go. It was Granny who came to my rescue. At first, she placed in my hand this box with a thorn and mustard seed inside. You can imagine my surprise when I saw what she had given me. But, I listened to her as told me the reason. Granny explained that everyone has thorns in their lives they must be pricked by, but that with the faith of a mustard seed, any obstacle could be overcome and turned around for good, for themselves and others. "It was Granny who gave me the courage to leave my abusive husband. She helped me find a place for me and my children. When I approached her about starting a shelter for other women so they would also have a place to turn to, she smiled and handed me this pearl. Although I have always treasured the pearl, my most precious treasures have been this box with the thorn and mustard seed. Many times when I have faced difficulties, I have looked at them and heard her words. Next in line was the man who ran the alcohol and drug center. He cleared his throat as he began to speak. "I met Granny under the worst possible circumstances that I could have met anyone. I was an alcoholic at the young age of eighteen when I was involved in a car accident that killed a young sixteen-year-old boy. You can imagine my emotions when his mother came up to the jail to visit me. I was prepared for the worst; anger and accusations. What I was not prepared for was the love and forgiveness I received. "She told me she knew that her son was with God and that she would someday be reunited with him. She also gave me this box with the thorn and mustard seed with the same explanation that you all well know. When I went to court, they wanted to put me in prison for manslaughter. Granny convinced them that I needed help and not punishment. She even offered to pay for the treatment. The treatment center was the cure that I needed. Granny helped me to get the grants to go to college. After I graduated, I saved every penny I could and a few years later took the money to Granny to repay her, but, she refused the money. So, I used the money to get our local treatment center started. On the first day I opened the center, Granny also gave me this box with the pearl. Do I need to tell you which is the most priceless to me?" Our local beautician spoke next. "I was fifteen, unmarried and pregnant when I met Granny. I was a frightened child about to have a child. I had already scheduled to have an abortion. I felt this was the only option that I had. Granny talked me out of having the abortion and to adopt my child out instead. She said I carried a gift from God that would be a gift to a childless couple. And yes, like many of you, I received the box with the thorn and mustard seed. Granny was with me when I gave birth to my son and when I gave him to his new family. She helped put me through school so I could become a beautician. She also gave me my box with the pearl. But the story does not end there. The family who adopted my son was a loving and Christian family, and my son grew up to be a fine doctor. He has saved many lives in his years, including many of yours." Story after story was told about Granny and her gifts of thorns, mustard seeds and pearls. How ashamed I was as I thought about the countless of times I laughed over Granny losing her precious pearls but keeping the golden box. How livid was with God for taking such a loving woman from us. Finally, our minister began to speak. "My parents were atheists and raised me the same way. Granny was my neighbor for many years. I often scoffed at her and her "God," yet at the same time was amazed by and envied her faith, her serenity and the peace that she had. Many times I would visit Granny when I was troubled, just to get a taste of her peace. It took Granny a lot longer to convert me then most, but she was patient. She kept praying for me and always had her door open. One day I was facing what I thought was a major life crisis and went to talk to Granny. That was the day she gave me my box with the thorn and mustard seed. It was also the day I accepted Christ as my Savior. When I opened my first church, Granny then gave me my box with the pearl." Then slowly, he opened an envelope and took out the folded paper inside. "Granny asked me to read this at her funeral. It was sealed when she gave it to me, and she made me promise not to open it until today." Slowly, he began to read: "Dear Family, and I say family, for we are all family in the eyes of God. Many of you have been recipients of my boxes. Although everyone understands the meaning behind the thorns and mustard seed, today, I will explain the meaning behind your pearls. As most of you know, a pearl is a gemstone that is made by different mollusks such as oysters. But let's see how they are made. The making of a pearl is not very pretty and is painful to the mollusk. The start of a pearl is a piece of sand, rock, body of a bug or parasite that gets trapped inside the shell. Inside the mollusk is an inner layer of shell that is made of a lustrous material called "nacre," or mother of pearl. When something gets stuck in its shell, it irritates the oyster, so in defense, the oyster isolates the irritation by gradually coating it with layer after layer of nacre, making the object less dangerous and irritating to its soft tissues. As the oyster keeps adding more layers of this material, the pearl grows bigger and becomes more rounded. It is a slow process that can take up to three or more years for a mature oyster to produce a pearl large enough to become valuable. "In your lives, you have all had these painful irritants, which you have had to coat. You have had to take something painful and create a beautiful, priceless pearl. I know many of you have wondered why I have had to endure cancer and die the death I did. Even though I may not have an answer to that, I do know this: Jesus was with me through each painful step of my disease comforting me with His Holy Spirit. Do not cry for me, but celebrate what has been given to me. Even though I had to endure this painful experience, today I get to collect my gemstone; I get the biggest pearl of my life - I go home to Our Father. "Love, Granny" Today, Granny's golden box, with its thorn and mustard seed, sits atop my dresser. Sonya Brown "Trust in the LORD with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him and he shall direct thy paths." Proverbs 3:5-6

Windshield Message from a child:

One rainy afternoon a father was driving along one of the main streets of town, taking those extra precautions necessary when the roads are wet and slick. Suddenly, his daughter, Aspen, spoke up from her relaxed position in her seat. "Dad, I'm thinking of something."This announcement usually meant she had been pondering some fact for a while, and was now ready to expound all that her six-year-old mind had discovered. he was eager to hear. "What are you thinking?" he asked."The rain;" she began, "is like sin, and the windshield wipers are like God wiping our sins away."After the chill bumps raced up his arms he was able to respond. "That's really good, Aspen."Then his curiosity broke in. How far would this little girl take this revelation?So he asked... "Do you notice how the rain keeps on coming? What does that tell you?"Aspen didn't hesitate one moment with her answer: "We keep on sinning, and God just keeps on forgiving us." He will always remember this whenever he turned the wipers on.

The Baggy Yellow Shirt

The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps up the front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom intended to give away. "You're not taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said when she saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!" "It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during art class, Mom. Thanks!" I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object. The yellow shirt became a part of my college wardrobe. I loved it. After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my new apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned. The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I wore the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and they were in Illinois. But that shirt helped. I smiled, remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pregnant, 15 years earlier. That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in holiday paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely. She never mentioned it again. The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped to its bottom. The shirt! And so the pattern was set. On our next visit home, I secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's mattress. I don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I needed now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains added character. In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three children, prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed, a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it on my own. I wondered if I would find a job. I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In Ephesians, I read, "So use every piece of God's armor to resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all over, you will be standing up." I tried to picture myself wearing God's armor, but all I saw was the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned on me. Wasn't my mother's love a piece of God's armor? My courage was renewed. Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the shirt back to Mother. The next time I visited her, I tucked it in her bottom dresser drawer. Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A year later I discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag in my cleaning closet. Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green across the breast pocket were the words "I BELONG TO PAT." Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters. Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, "I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER." But I didn't stop there. I zig-zagged all the frayed seams, then had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from Arlington, VA. We enclosed an official looking letter from "The Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have given anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box. But, of course, she never mentioned it. Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. The day of our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband drove us to our honeymoon suite, I reached for a pillow in the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt. Inside a pocket was a note: "Read John 14:27-29. I love you both, Mother." That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room and found the verses: "I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives. So don't be troubled or afraid. Remember what I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you again. If you really love me, you will be very happy for me, for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I am. I have told you these things before they happen so that when they do, you will believe in me." The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease. Mother died the following year at age 57. I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to her grave. But I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16 years. Besides, my older daughter is in college now, majoring in art And every art student needs a baggy yellow shirt with big pockets.

Building Bridges

Once upon a time two brothers who lived on adjoining farms fell into conflict. It was the first serious rift in 40 years of farming side by side, sharing machinery, and trading labor and goods as needed without a hitch. Then the long collaboration fell apart. It began with a small misunderstanding and it grew into a major difference, and finally it exploded into an exchange of bitter words followed by weeks of silence. One morning there was a knock on John's door. He opened it to find a man with a carpenter's toolbox. "I'm looking for a few days work" he said. "Perhaps you would have a few small jobs here and there. Could I help you?" "Yes," said the older brother. "I do have a job for you. Look across the creek at that farm. That's my neighbor, in fact, it's my younger brother. Last week there was a meadow between us and he took his bulldozer to the river levee and now there is a creek between us. Well, he may have done this to spite me, but I'll go him one better. See that pile of lumber curing by the barn? I want you to build me a fence -- an 8-foot fence -- so I won't need to see his place anymore. Cool him down, anyhow." The carpenter said, "I think I understand the situation. Show me the nails and the post-hole digger and I'll be able to do a job that pleases you." The older brother had to go to town for supplies, so he helped the carpenter get the materials ready and then he was off for the day. The carpenter worked hard all that day measuring, sawing, nailing. About sunset when the farmer returned, the carpenter had just finished his job. The farmer's eyes opened wide, his jaw dropped. There was no fence there at all. It was a bridge -- a bridge stretching from one side of the creek to the other! A fine piece of work -- handrails and all -- and the neighbor, his younger brother, was coming across, his hand outstretched. "You are quite a fellow to build this bridge after all I've said and done." The two brothers stood at each end of the bridge, and then they met in the middle, taking each other's hand. They turned to see the carpenter hoist his toolbox on his shoulder. "No, wait! Stay a few days. I've a lot of other projects for you," said the older brother. "I'd love to stay on," the carpenter said,"but, I have many more bridges to build."

The Alphabet

Although things are not perfect Because of trial or pain Continue in thanksgivingDo not begin to blameEven when the times are hardFierce winds are bound to blowGod is forever ableHold on to what you knowImagine life without His loveJoy would cease to beKeep thanking Him for all the thingsLove imparts to theeMove out of "Camp Complaining"No weapon that is knownOn earth can yield the powerPraise can do aloneQuit looking at the futureRedeem the time at handStart every day with worshipTo "thank" is a commandUntil we see Him comingVictorious in the skyWe'll run the race with gratitudeXalting God most highYes, there'll be good times and yes some will be bad, but..Zion waits in glory...where none are ever sad!

The Little Hut

The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming. Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect himself from the elements, and to store his few possessions. But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had happened - everything was lost. He was stunned with grief and anger. "God, how could you do this to me?" he cried.Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him. "How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers."We saw your smoke signal," they replied.It's easy to get discouraged sometimes when things appear to be going badly. But we shouldn't lose heart, because God is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering. Remember, next time your little hut is burning to the ground, it just may be a smoke signal that summons the grace of God.For all the negative things we have to say to ourselves, God has a positive answer for it.You say, "It's impossible."God says: "All thing are possible". (Luke 18:27)You say, "I'm too tired."God says: "I will give you rest". (Matt 11:28-20)You say, "Nobody really loves me."God says: "I love you". (John3:16- John13:34)You say, "I can't go on."God says: "My grace is sufficient." (II Cor. 12:9 - Psalm 91:15)You say, "I can't figure things out."God says: "I will direct your steps." (Proverbs 3:5-6)You say, "I can't do it."God says: "You can do all things in Me." (Phil 4:13)You say, "It's not worth it."God says: "It will be worth it." (Romans 8:28)You say, "I can't forgive myself."God says: "I forgive you." (I John 1:9 - Romans 8:1)You say, "I can't manage."God says: "I will supply all your needs." (Phil 4:19)You say, "I'm afraid."God says: "I have not given you a spirit of fear." (II Tim. 1:7)You say, "I'm always worried and frustrated"God says: "Cast all your cares on ME (I Peter 5:7)You say, "I don't have enough faith."God says: "I've given everyone a measure of faith." (Romans 12:3)You say, "I'm not smart enough."God says: "I give you wisdom." (I Cor. 1:30)You say, "I feel all alone."God says: "I will never leave you or forsake you." (Heb. 13:5)There are some weeks (and days) that we ALL feel our huts are burning.

Stand Up

This is a true story of something that happened just a few years ago at USC. There was a professor of philosophy there who was a deeply committed atheist. His primary goal for one required class was to spend the entire semester attempting to prove that God couldn't exist.His students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable logic. For twenty years, he had taught this class and no one had ever had the courage to go against him. Sure, some had argued in class at times, but no one had ever really gone against him because of his reputation.At the end of every semester on the last day, he would say to his class of 300 students, "If there is anyone here who still believes in Jesus, stand up!"In twenty years, no one had ever stood up. They knew what he was going to do next. He would say, "Because anyone who believes in God is a fool. If God existed, He could stop this piece of chalk from hitting the ground and breaking. Such a simple task to prove that He is God, and yet He can't do it." And every year, he would drop the chalk onto the tile floor of the classroom and it would shatter into a hundred pieces.All of the students would do nothing but stop and stare. Most of the students thought that God couldn't exist. Certainly, a number of Christians had slipped through, but for 20 years, they had been too afraid to stand up.Well, a few years ago there was a freshman that happened to enroll. He was a Christian, and had heard the stories about his professor. He was required to take the class for his major, and he was afraid. But for three months that semester, he prayed every morning that he would have the courage to stand up no matter what the professor said, or what the class thought. Nothing they said could ever shatter his faith...he hoped.Finally, the day came. The professor said, "If there is anyone here who still believes in God, stand up!" The professor and the class of 300 people looked at him, shocked, as he stood up at the back of the classroom.The professor shouted, "You FOOL!!! If God existed, he would keep this piece of chalk from breaking when it hit the ground!"He proceeded to drop the chalk, but as he did, it slipped out of his fingers, off his shirt cuff, onto the pleat of his pants, down his leg, and off his shoe. As it hit the ground, it simply rolled away unbroken. The professor's jaw dropped as he stared at the chalk. He looked up at the young man, and then ran out of the lecture hall.The young man, who had stood, proceeded to walk to the front of the room and shared his faith in Jesus for the next half hour. 300 students stayed and listened as he told of God's love for them and of His power through Jesus.

A young man learns what's most important in life from the guy next door.

It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls, career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life, Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could stop him. Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday."

Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?""Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said. "Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him."I loved that old house he lived in,"

Jack said."You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said. "He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him.He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important...Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.

As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown.Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away. The night before he had to return home, Jack and his mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time. Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture.... Jack stopped suddenly.

"What's wrong, Jack?" his mom asked. "The box is gone," he said. "What box? " Mom asked."There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.

"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read. Early the next day Jack retrieved the package.The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. Harold Belser" it read.

Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope.Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside."Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life."A small key was taped to the letter.His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover.Inside he found these words engraved: "Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser.""

The thing he valued time."Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days."Why?" Janet, his assistant asked."I need some time to spend with my son," he said."Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!""Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away."

Why Me, Lord.... with a different twist

Next time your morning seems to be going wrong and the children are slow getting dressed and you can't seem to find the car keys and you hit every traffic light, don't get mad or frustrated; praise God instead because (perhaps unbeknownst to you) He is at work watching over you.After Sept. 11th, I happened to call a man on business whom I didn't know and haven't nor will probably ever talk to again. But on this particular day, he felt like talking. He was the head of security for a company that had invited the remaining members of another company who had been decimated by the attack on the Twin Towers to share their office space. With his voice full of awe he told me stories of why these people were alive and their counterparts were dead. In the end, all the stories were just about the little things that happen to us.You might know, the head of the company got in late that day because his son started kindergarten. Another fellow was alive because it was his turn to bring donuts. There were other stories that I hope and pray will someday be gathered and put in a book.The one that struck me was the man who put on a new pair of shoes that morning, took the various means to get to work but before he got there, he developed a blister on his foot. He stopped at a drugstore to buy a Band-Aid. That is why he is alive.Now when I am stuck in traffic, miss an elevator, turn back to answer a ringing telephone...all the little things that annoy me...I think to myself, this is exactly where God wants me to be at this very moment.May God continue to bless you with all those annoying things. The Lord's Baseball Game Bob was caught up in the spirit where he and the Lord stood by to observe a baseball game. The Lord's team was playing Satan's team. The Lord's team was at bat, the score was tied zero to zero, and it was the bottom of the 9th inning with two outs. They continued to watch as a batter stepped up to the plate whose name was Love. Love swung at the first pitch and hit a single, because Love never fails. The next batter was named Faith, who also got a single because Faith works with Love. The next batter up was named Godly Wisdom. Satan wound up and threw the first pitch. Godly Wisdom looked it over and let it pass, because Godly Wisdom does not swing at Satan's pitches. Ball one. Three more pitches and Godly Wisdom walked, because Godly Wisdom never swings at Satan's throws. The bases were loaded. The Lord then turned to Bob and told him He was now going to bring in His star player. Up to the plate stepped Grace. Bob said he sure did not look like much! Satan's whole team relaxed when they saw Grace. Thinking he had won the game, Satan wound up and fired his first pitch. To the shock of everyone, Grace hit the ball harder than anyone had ever seen. But Satan was not worried; his center fielder, the Prince of the air, let very few get by. He went up for the ball, but it went right through his glove, hit him on the head, and sent him crashing on the ground; then it continued over the fence for a home run! The Lord's team won. The Lord then asked Bob if he knew why Love, Faith, and Godly Wisdom could get on base but could not win the game. Bob answered that he did not know why. The Lord explained, "If your love, faith and wisdom had won the game you would think you had done it yourself. Love, faith and wisdom will get you on base, but only My grace can get you home. My grace is the one thing Satan cannot stop."

The Cherokee and the two wolves

An old Cherokee is telling his grandson about a fight that is going on inside him. He said it is between 2 wolves. One wolf is evil: Anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, selfishness and self-centerdness. The other wolf is good: Joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith. His grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf wins?" The old Cherokee simply replied, "The one I feed." SHAKE IT OFF One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally he decided the animal was old and the well needed to be covered up anyway, it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey. He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him.They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement, he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well and was astonished at what he saw. With every shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off! Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a stepping-stone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up!
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.Enjoy life - SHAKE IT OFF

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Thank you

Sunday, April 22, 2007


DATE: 1 MAY 2007

Introduce your NAME – then your life history in a simple life line method






Tuesday, April 17, 2007

The commencement of a new era

This shall be a blog page for scouts to share their thoughts and get information pertaining the scouts movement in Ipoh Kinta 01

Under the direction of Mr Cheng the headmaster of ACS Ipoh who sees great value in a proper movement which badges and ranks aside is to groom future leaders, Sir Selvin has been entrusted to build a new team with Sir Chin for the revival of Kinta 01