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

Tag:

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

alaska america american better candidate considered convention country edition election energy family going governor interests john life man mccain music nation news nominee npr office oil opponent palin people politics president programs public raise reform republican sen sep serve share special speech state station talk taxes things wants washington world

created at TagCrowd.com

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.