A Big Piece of My Heart

A Big Piece of My Heart

Collecting Thoughts

http://jacobbembry.com/collecting-thoughts/

Fleas And Knees: Giving God Thanks In All Things

                The last few days have been days and nights filled with physical pain for me. The pain in my right knee, which hurts when I am standing or walking is easing off somewhat. I had even thought that it might be broken at first. It has been holding me prisoner for days. I have missed two days of work and yesterday, I slept most of the day after sleeping most of the night before. Last night, I could hardly sleep at all. Today, I tried to nap but to no avail.

                I think what life would be like if we were always pain free. The times when I feel no pain, I hardly ever stop to thank Jesus, but when I am hurting, I call His name in prayer. When I am uncomfortable, I pray. When I can’t do something for myself, I ask for His help. When my heart is broken, I cry out to Him.

                I need to remember to give God praise when things are going right, and even when they are going wrong. I remember reading a story told by Corrie Ten Boom, a Dutch watchmaker’s daughter who was a prisoner of war in a German concentration camp during World War II. She read in the Bible where it said to give God thanks in all things (I Thessalonians 5:18). There were fleas in the place she was staying. She did not why, but she had to give God thanks. Later, she learned that the German soldiers who would take the prisoners to be executed stayed away from the area she was in because it was infested with fleas.

                Corrie Ten Boom thanked God for the fleas and, though it is hard for me to do, I thank God for a hurting knee and other problems I may face because I know that He is working things for my good, in Jesus’ name. 

Food Stamps

    I couldn't tell how old he was. Probably late fifties. Could have even been in his forties. Who knows? He could have been in his thirties.

    The evidence of guilt was on his face. Cigarettes and alcohol and maybe even drugs had cut a path of deep creases into his forehead and his face. He sat on the sidewalk in front of Wal-Mart. One of his friends sat next to him. It was a pack of some generic brand of cigarettes but even they probably cost three or four dollars a pack. I came out of Wal-Mart with a buggy full of groceries and he asked me a stupid question.

    "Would you like to buy some food stamps?"

    I just walked past him. He asked people walking into the store if they wanted to buy food stamps.

    I wondered if the man had children at home that were hungry. He could use the food stamps to buy them food. Instead, the man had a monkey on his back that he could not shake off.

I knew what he would do with the money if he had it. The beer companies, the cigarette companies and the Florida Lotto would all make money. Children would go hungry.

I wish now that I had done something to help. I wish that I had picked up my cell phone and dialed 9-1-1 and reported him for trying to sell the food stamps. 140424

Blood on the Doorpost

A few years ago, God blessed me by giving me the lyrics to a song. I've run the lyrics in this column before and others have told me that the words to the song have blessed them. The song is about the time that Passover in the Old Testament and about the blood that Jesus shed at Calvary. Satan can never cross that bloodline and steal our souls. My cousin, Michael Keeler, added music to the song. If you have Internet access, you can view a video of him singing the song at www.greenepublishing.com. Below are the lyrics. I hope that the song truly blesses you.

Verse 1:

Angels camp around me every night when I lie down,

God gives me a peace, only in Him can be found,

Though it may be dark outside I'm guarded by the Light

And the blood on the doorpost protects me in the night.

Chorus:

Blood on the doorpost,

Blood that washed my soul,

Blood on the doorpost,

Blood that makes me whole,

The blood that Jesus shed,

I know He shed for me

And the blood on the doorpost is protecting me.

Verse 2:

Destruction will not come in the middle of the night,

Like it did to Pharaoh's people before Moses took his flight,

Well, I dwell in the Land of Canaan, milk and honey. That's right.

And the blood on the doorpost protects me in the night.

Repeat chorus

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And the blood on the doorpost protects me in the night.

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Abbie's Sense of Humor

My sister, Abbie, has a sense of humor that can scare me sometimes.
The other night, I walked into Walmart in Live Oak with Abbie. We got our buggy and I stationed Abbie at the back so she could push it, which she enjoys doing. I had leaned over and was looking at cookies or something else which don’t need to eat and she disappeared. I’m serious. Poof! She vanished.
My brother, Danny, and my father were behind us getting power buggies (since both of them have trouble getting around in the store) and neither of them saw Abbie disappear either.
I don’t think I have to tell many of you that I was frightened. I began asking others in the store if they had seen which way my mentally challenged sister went. None of them had. I ran out the door to make sure that she hadn’t gone back in the parking lot. There was no sign of her there.
When I got back in the store, Danny and Daddy were fanning out looking for her as I frantically continued to search.
I saw Daddy come out of one aisle, driving his buggy and Abbie was sitting on it with him, just laughing. He said that she had popped out of one aisle and hopped on it with him.
I collected Abbie and we set about doing our shopping, with her happily pushing the buggy and grinning from ear to ear about the joke she had played on her big brother.
The Bible tells us that a merry heart doing good like a medicine but sometimes a little joke can just about scare the life out of you.

How My Sister Communicates

No matter how many times she does it, I’m still amazed by my sister Abbie’s ability to tell us what she wants and what she’s thinking.
As many readers know, Abbie is mentally-challenged and, although she can talk, it’s very rare that she does. People always ask me how Abbie communicates with us and it’s hard for me to explain but she does.
On Monday, my nephew took my father (who celebrated his birthday on Jan. 21), my brother (whose birthday was Monday) and Abbie out to lunch to celebrate Daddy and Danny’s birthdays. They stopped by the office on the way back home and Abbie came up and hugged me and laughed. I understood then that she was trying to tell me something but I couldn’t figure it out.
That’s when Daddy told me that Ryan’s girlfriend had gone to lunch with them. I asked Abbie if that was what she was trying to tell me and she gave me a high five.
I told you she could communicate.
The next night, we went to Denny’s. Abbie looked at the menu and saw a picture of the nachos on there. She began pointing and we knew that she wanted them.
Remember, I told you Abbie could communicate with us.
In spite of the nachos and sauce being spicy hot, Abbie dug in with relish and began eating them and the sour cream with them. (You have to remember, Abbie cannot only communicate, she is smart. She knew the sour cream would help with the heat.) After Danny had finished eating his food, he took a bite of Abbie’s food and commented on how hot it was.
Abbie looked at Danny like he was crazy and put one finger to her forehead and then pointed it at him as if to say, “It’s all in your mind.”
I told you Abbie could communicate.
A few weeks ago, Danny said something and apparently Abbie didn’t see the logic behind it, so she formed her fingers into the sign of an “L” and put it on her forehead, as if she was calling him a loser. (She’s probably going to do the loser sign to me soon, too if she hasn’t already done it and I missed it.)
Didn’t I tell you Abbie could communicate?
God gives each of us different abilities and talents. Some people choose to bury theirs and hide them. Abbie makes the most of what she’s got and she makes her big brother happy that she does.

Enthusiasm

I went to a motivational seminar on Monday. I was enthusiastic about attending and when I left, although I was very tired, I was enthusiastic about having attended.
My memory is a little fuzzy but I believe that it might have been Coach Bobby Bowden who explained that the word “enthusiasm” comes from the Greek words en theos, which means inspired by God or God-breathed.
Enthusiasm means to be inspired by God; to be full of the breath of God. Isn’t it a fantastic word?
Today, I encourage all of my readers to get enthusiastic about their relationship with God, who gives us the inspiration to be enthused.
I want to encourage everyone to read the Bible, which tells us to hide its words in our hearts so that we will not sin against God. (Psalm 119:11)
I want to encourage everyone to pray. The Bible tells us to pray without ceasing. If you say you don’t have anything to pray about, then pray for me. (I Thessalonians 5:17, Ephesians 6:18)
I want to encourage everyone to do good deeds for each other. The Bible tells us that faith without works is dead. (James 2:20)
Get enthusiastic about reading the Bible, praying, doing good deeds and about your relationship with God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Ghost. Where do you think true enthusiasm comes from in the first place?

Semper Fi, Buddy

addper Fi, Buddy

I don't believe that I saw Ricky Williams again after June 4, 1982.

Ricky was the first friend I made when I started going to school in Monticello, Fla. He and I rode the bus to school together (Madge Shelly drove that bus), we played together, we fought together, we went to church together (rode a bus that Gene Sculley drove to church), we were in Royal Rangers together, we traded baseball cards, we did everything together that boys usually do.

Ricky taught me to love baseball, although we cheered for different teams. He was a Reds fan. I was a Dodgers fan. We were in fifth grade when Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruth's record. I saw it on Channel 10 in Albany, Ga. and Ricky (who also watched it) and I talked about it the next day. Ricky taught me to play "thumps" and "b.b. bush" (both very painful games).

Ricky had two beautiful older sisters and I had two cute younger sisters. I had kind of a schoolboy crush on Ricky's sister, Becky, but she was a few years older. I think she may have been in ninth grade when I was in fifth.

In high school, Ricky and I drifted apart, but he was always my friend. He was the strong, athletic type. I was the nerd. He was a lineman on the high school football team and was in FFA. I was on the Brain Bowl team and the newspaper editor. We just started hanging around other friends.

On June 4, 1982, Ricky and I graduated high school and went our separate ways. After high school, I went to North Florida Junior College, then Florida State University, then out into the workforce. Ricky served his country proudly as a member of the United States Marine Corps. After the Marines, Ricky began working at FSU. He married his beautiful high school sweetheart. I remained single.

Ricky left this world on Monday, August 10, 2009. I am proud to have called Ricky friend. I miss him.

I know that, no matter how much I miss Ricky right now, it cannot compare to how much his wife, Pam, (who began dating Ricky when she was 15 and he was 17 and called him the love of her life), their kids and grandkids miss him. But I know, and I encourage Pam and the family to know that God can do all things and He will lift them up.

Semper fi, buddy. I love you.

 

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The Cost of Liberty

    I watched The Curious Cage of Benjamin Button tonight. Great movie, but not nearly as great as the short story written by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Read it if you get a chance.

    I went to a town council meeting earlier tonight. It's amazing how many of our freedoms are being given away, just for a few dollars.

How much is liberty worth?

Surely more than the $600,000 grant the town wants.

Day’s End

    I am tired tonight. Busy day. All I have to blog is this: "Phew! I'm glad the ay is over."

The Tempting Seductress

    Once again, sleep beckons me. A tempting seductress, she speaks softly and sings lullabies to rock me to sleep.

    Tomorrow, I will awaken to another day. The day may bring joy. It may bring pain. All I know is that tomorrow will be different. No day is ever the same, at least not on my job.

    When I took a job in the newspaper business, I did not know how there would always been something different each day. Each day, there are new challenges, new people to meet and new stories to write. It's all different. It's all fresh. It may be exhilarating, it may be frustrating, but there is always excitement. Some of the excitement I like. Some of it I don't, but at least I can never say my job is boring.

    Lately, my life away from work has been anything but boring and dull. How I long for just a normal dull day. I pray that my level of excitement goes up with my level of exhilaration. I pray for frustration and troubles to ride out on the wind.

    Now, I listen to sleep's sexy voice. Perhaps that is where I will have a "normal dull day" in the darkness of the night.

    Good night, readers. Have pleasant dreams.

A License To Live

    I awoke this morning after seven hours of blissful sleep. After hardly sleeping the night before, I needed the sleep before going back to my assignment.

    When I speak of my assignment, I am not talking about my job. Today is Sunday, the Lord's Day, so during my assignment, one of the geographical locations I will visit is 2485 SE Midway Church Road, Lee, Florida. I will be in church. It is only part of today's assignment, but it could be the most important part.

    My life is filled with suspense. My assignment is to live and breathe, to be the places I need to be and do the things that I need to do. I'm not sure of what all of them will be.

    Recently, some of the curves in the road have been sharper and some of the mountains I have had to climb have been harder. God never promised me an easy life. He did promise strength to sustain me. And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:5
 

    Today, I will get dressed and head out to my next assignment. I'm not "Bond…James Bond" and I don't have a license to kill. I'm Bembry…Jacob Bembry and I have a license to live.

The Seductive Voice Of The Siren, Sleep

    Sleep is beginning to creep up on me. Like a scene in a horror movie, it creeps up stealthily behind me and taps me on the shoulder with its cold bony hand.

I need sleep. I crave sleep. Tonight, I will yield to its seductive voice.

    I did not sleep much last night – or this morning I should say. I was seeking ways to find more followers for this blog. I want to be able to share my "Jacob's Ladder" column and my faith with the world. If I gain followers and get more page views, hopefully I can garner advertising dollars and make the site profitable for me. Regardless of whether I do turn a dime or not, I will keep blogging. If nothing else, it will be therapeutic for me and everyone needs therapy now and then.

    So, tonight, for a few hours, I will shroud myself in the tomb of slumber. Tomorrow, if the Lord tarries, I will awaken and get ready for church. If he does not tarry, I will awaken to the sound of Gabriel's trumpet and rise through the air and meet Him in the sky.

    Good night, everyone.

Pleasant dreams.

Summer’s Fleeting Symphony

    Flowers bursting forth with fragrance. Newly mown grass. The smell of hay after the rain. It was the first day of August and the aromas still wafted on the wings of the wind, but they were not as noticeable as they had been at the first of spring.

    Spring had brought with it change. A 12-year-old boy notices the smells that spring brings. Freshly cut grass. The smell of cowhide in baseball gloves and the smell of a new baseball before its first pitch is ever thrown.

    Twelve-year-old boys being twelve, they also notice how pretty that 12-year-old girl smells, whether it's from her perfume, soap or maybe just a stick of Juicy Fruit she might be chewing.

    With its smells, spring also brought change. Soon, school would be getting out for summer and I and the other 12-year-old boys would enjoy our vacation.

    When the first day of August rolled around, I began to dread going back to school but it's was always with a hint of excitement for lay ahead. A new school year brought with it new smells, including the smell of new jeans, newly sharpened pencils, new paper and the smells of the freshly mimeographed syllabi that teachers would hand out.

    Today is the first of August. It's exactly one month from my birthday on September 1. It is exactly eight days from my sister Abbie's 40^th birthday. It's exactly six months after my brother Danny's 41^st birthday. There are still smells, there is still change and the world keeps turning as it did when I was 12 years old.

    Mimeographs are a thing of the past. New jeans don't seem to have the same smell as they did when I was 12. What's happened to the fresh smell of a new notebook?

    The flowers and the grass still smell the same and I give God thanks for that.

    Soon, summer will be ending and autumn leaves will fall to the ground, begging me to rake them up. Then, the warm Florida autumn will turn to a fairly cold north Florida winter before spring bursts forth in song again, beckoning me to take her by the hand and dance.

    Now, I listen as summer plays the notes on her symphony. The symphony will end soon, but it still seems so far away.

    

A Stone's Throw

Have you ever stood on the banks of a river with a smooth polished pebble in your hand and toss it to the other side?
Have you ever stood on a road with nothing but blacktop or dirt in front of you for miles with a rock in your hand and tossed it as far as you could?
No matter how far you can throw it – whether it plunks in the water, only travels two feet or if it travels far -- the distance is the same. It’s just a stone’s throw.
How far is it from Heaven to Hell?
The answer could be, “It’s just a stone’s throw.”
For some, they might answer that it’s far.
“And in hell he lift up his eyes, being in torments, and seeth Abraham afar off, and Lazarus in his bosom.” (Luke 16:23)
Although Hell is described as being far from Heaven in this Bible verse, it was still close enough for the rich man to see Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom.
Some people may feel that they are all right with God. They treat people right and do good deeds. Still, they do not know Christ as their personal savior.
They’re a stone’s throw from Heaven.
Others may realize that they are lost and feel that there is no hope for them. They lose themselves in booze, drugs and sex with whoever or whatever comes along.
They’re a stone throw from Heaven.
Are you lost today? Do you need a personal relationship with Jesus Christ?
Ask Him into your heart and live for Him.
He’s only a stone’s throw away.

The Stone Of Mercy

“I will also give him a white stone with a new name written on it, known only to him who receives it.” - Revelation 2:17
The person being tried stood shuddering as he awaited the verdict. Was there nothing he could do to be set free?
Gloom and doom shrouded his very being, making the courtroom feel like a cold, ice-covered grace. He knew that the grave would not be cold for long. It would turn from a frozen tundra into a fiery furnace and the fire would burn forever.
As he waited for the judge to make his decision, he knew that he would be given the black stone, which was an indication of his guilt. There would be no vindication for what he had done.
The criminal stood, knowing there would be no exoneration and that his execution was imminent.
“What if I threw myself on the mercy of the court?” he thought. “What if I told the judge how sorry I am for all the crimes I have committed. I have sinned, o Lord, be merciful to me!”
With his head bowed and tears in his eyes, he suddenly felt someone standing in front of him. Afraid to look up, he waited for the judge to drop the black stone of guilt in the cup.
He heard stone hit the inside of the urn. Looking in to his shock and disbelief, he saw a white stone; a stone that indicated that he was not guilty.
The criminal who had been freed looked up and saw the face of Jesus Christ. He reached and grabbed Jesus’ nail-scarred hands.
Jesus had paid the price so he could go free.