Street Preechin Sirmuns

Angebote / Angebote:

Many years ago when black people were oppressed beyond reason in this country there was a man selling balloons at the county fair. They were all different colors and filled with helium. To get attention, from time to time the man would let a balloon go and disappear into the sky. He let a red one go and it went out of sight. He let a yellow one go and it also went out of sight. He released a white one and it soared into the heavens. As a little eight year old black boy watched and wondered, he finally gathered enough courage to ask the man a question. Mister, will a black balloon go up when you turn it loose? The man looked him dead in the eye, placed his hand on his shoulder and said, Son, the color of the balloon doesnt matter, it is what I put on the inside that matters. This is what makes it fly.This is what Jesus teaches you and me. Not only does our color not matter: nothing else does. No situation that you and I face matters. We cant even invent a hard luck story that matters. Our past or anything that has happened in our past doesnt matter. We can dream up some sob story, but it would not matter. Faith is what matters. Believing is our internal fuel that moves us to our desired destinations. Faith is the only indestructible vehicle that will shuttle us to an eternity where the good life goes on forever. (Conquering Problems With Power From Your Bible/Jim Hobby)Teflon, Corn Flakes, Vulcanized Rubber, Paper Towels, Plexiglas for Contact Lense and the telephone were discovered by accident. Gideon was threshing wheat in a winepress and got a visitation from Heaven and Saul was looking for asses and got anointed for kingship. God is working twenty four sevens in our lives and if necessary, will use our dumb mistakes and idle wanderings to make a world changing miracle. (Jim Hobby/ Faith Things Happen). Slowly there was a peace and a power flooding his soul. Softly and tenderly a still small voice began to speak in his bosom. Samson, I know you cant see, just wrap your arms around those pillars and pull. In your darkness with everything within you, pull. Pull until you feel debris sprinkling your back. Pull until you hear concrete breaking. Pull until you hear screams of horror from this crowd of demons. Pull until you feel these columns cracking and this roof crumbling. When you feel you are weakening, pull. When fear comes, pull. When you can pull no more, pull anyway! It isnt over Samson. You thought it was over when they cut your hair. You thought I was gone forever when they punched out your eyes. You thought I was not in that darkness when you were grinding at the devils mill, but I was there and I am here now. (It Aint Over Til Its Over /Jim Hobby)