Here is what I did. I went to my friend and I told her how I felt and apologized, and I told her I'll give her some space to think about it. Next, I try to befriend the person I don't like and try to see why I don't like him. Then I reason with myself is it really worth losing someone I care about over someone I don't like and who is my enemy? I hope this helps. I lost a friend as well. Long story short - her family was starting to lose the faith. They stopped coming to church, and they stopped communication with everyone myself included.
Up until that point, they always talked to me. Then their mom said I was never to see or talk to my best friend ever again. I've never forgotten that day, which was over three years ago. I haven't seen them since. How can I say sorry to a friend if she doesn't notice me? She is a friend I care about, one I always talked to.
I have a friend, and I caused her a lot of pain. I didn't mean to, but I lied to her to protect her. Now she hates me. Now she won't talk to me. She avoids me at school, and when I try to talk to her she won't talk to me at all, only the barest communication, and it's killing me. I really need her. I don't know if I can make it without her. Hey, I am also suffering from the same thing. It's so hard, and I know I did wrong, but we can work this out. Sometimes I feel him here watching over me. I feel like all I have to do is reach out and touch him.
When I was 26 I accepted Jesus as my Savior. He brought me through the loss of my son when he was 21, my father, and my mother. And now my husband, but I have Jesus who sticks closer than a brother. He is my everything. Someday I'll get to see my family again, and most of all I'll get to see Jesus. So my best friend, I'm sorry for all my wrongs I ever did.
I could have done better, but the past of our life will live on in my heart till we meet again. I still can't hold on the tears, the fear, that you brought in my life when you left. I know I will ever be sorry for every little pain that I ever caused you.afsq.swanndvr.net/2445-4-dias.php
My Last Apology
That's why sorry will never be enough to bring you back in my life. Unless you hear my burning heart and let go of your anger and pain. My ex-best friend Baylee and I used to hang out every day after school. We did this for three years before she became a senior in high school and I became a sophomore. I noticed that she was breaking away, but I didn't know until that day.
I was called into the main office and I couldn't tell why. The principal had told me that my friend couldn't tell me to my face but she had to "sever ties. She still rides my bus and is in my classes, but she never talks to me, just looks at me. I try not to look back, but it is difficult to know that I will never have you back. I love my best friend.
When I was crying she put her arm around me and wiped away my tears when I was sad. We do everything together and share everything. She's got a shoulder I can lean on. She understands so well how I feel. The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church. Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead.
Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed. Prayer is one of the best spiritual gifts we receive. There is no cost but a lot of rewards. Let's continue praying for one another. May today there be peace within. May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let His presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, and to bask in the sun. It is there for each and every one of you. Give us this day our daily bread. What Was In Jeremy's Egg? Jeremy was born with a twisted body, a slow mind and a chronic, terminal illness that had been slowly killing him all his young life. Still, his parents had tried to give him as normal a life as possible and had sent him to St. At the age of 12, Jeremy was only in second grade, seemingly unable to learn.
His teacher, Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat, drool and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy irritated his teacher. One day, she called his parents and asked them to come to St. Teresa's for a consultation. As the Forresters sat quietly in the empty classroom, Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school.
It isn't fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems. Why, there is a five-year gap between his age and that of the other students! Forrester cried softly into a tissue while her husband spoke. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of this school. We know he really likes it here. Doris sat for a long time after they left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul.
She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had a terminal illness. But it wasn't fair to keep him in her class. She had 18 other youngsters to teach and Jeremy was a distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read or write. Why waste any more time trying? As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Please help me to be more patient with Jeremy. From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his blank stares.
Then one day he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him. The other children snickered, and Doris' face turned red. She stammered, "Wh-Why, that's very nice, Jeremy. Now please take your seat. Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg. He just listened intently, his eyes never left her face.
He did not even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about Jesus' death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment? Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them. That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy's parents.
The next morning, 19 children came to school, laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk. After they completed their Math lesson, it was time to open the eggs. In the first egg, Doris found a flower. The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up. Yes that is new life, too. She explained that the moss, too, showed life.
Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom. Then Doris opened the fourth egg. The egg was empty! Surely it must be Jeremy's, she thought, and, of course, he did not understand her instructions. If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another.
Apology Poem, My Last Apology
Suddenly Jeremy spoke up. When she could speak again. Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb was empty? Then his Father raised him up! The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the school yard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away. Three months later Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the mortuary were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket, all of them empty.
But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. Hugging is almost perfect! There are no movable parts, no batteries to wear out, no periodic check-ups, no monthly payments, no insurance requirements. There is low energy consumption, and very high energy yield. Hugging is theft-proof, inflation-proof, not-fattening, non-polluting, non-taxable, and, of course, fully returnable.
For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death. But if the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit which dwells in you. Show Your marvelous loving kindness by Your right hand, O You who save those who trust in You from those who rise up against them. Keep me as the apple of Your eye; Hide me under the shadow of Your wings, from the wicked who oppress me, from my deadly enemies who surround me. A young, new preacher was walking with an older, more seasoned preacher in the garden one day and feeling a bit insecure about what God had for him to do, he was inquiring of the older preacher.
The older preacher walked up to a rosebush and handed the young preacher a rosebud and told him to open it without tearing off any petals. The young preacher looked in disbelief at the older preacher and was trying to figure out what a rosebud could possibly have to do with his wanting to know the WILL OF GOD for his life and for his ministry. Because of his high respect for the older preacher, he proceeded to TRY to unfold the rose, while keeping every petal intact It wasn't long before he realized how impossible it was to do so. Noticing the younger preacher's inability to unfold the rosebud while keeping it intact, the older preacher began to recite the following poem This is the beginning of "My Wood," an essay by E.
Forster about his reaction to owning a small estate he bought with the royalties from his novel "A Passage to India. A few years ago I wrote a book which dealt in part with the difficulties of the English in India. Feeling that they would have had no difficulties in India themselves, the Americans read the book freely.
The more they read it the better it made them feel, and a cheque to the author was the result. I bought a wood with the cheque. It is not a large wood - it contains scarcely any trees, and it is intersected, blast it, by a public footpath. Still, it is the first property I have owned, so it is right that other people should participate in my shame, and should ask themselves, in accents that will vary in horror, this very important question: What is the effect of property upon the character?
Don't let's touch economics; the effect of private ownership upon the community as a whole is another question - a more important question perhaps, but another one. Let's keep to psychology. If you own things, what's their effect on you? What's the effect on me of my wood?
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In the first place, it makes me feel heavy. Property does have this effect. Property produces men of weight, and it was a man of weight who failed to get into the Kingdom of Heaven 1. He was not wicked, that unfortunate millionaire in the parable, he was only stout; he stuck out in front, not to mention behind, and as he wedged himself this way and that in the crystalline entrance and bruised his well-fed flanks, he saw beneath him a comparatively slim camel passing through the eye of a needle and being woven into the robe of God.
The Gospels all through couple stoutness and slowness. They point out what is perfectly obvious, yet seldom realized: Sometimes the Gospels proceed further and say with Tolstoy that property is sinful; they approach the difficult ground of asceticism here, where I cannot follow them. But as to the immediate effects of property on people, they just show straightforward logic.
It produces men of weight. Men of weight cannot, by definition, move like lightning from the East unto the West, and the ascent of a fourteen-stone 3 bishop into a pulpit is thus the exact antithesis of the coming of the Son of Man. My wood makes me feel heavy. The Jordan is the river in which John the Baptist christened repentant sinners. The professor grins knowingly. Let's say there's a sick person over here and you can cure him. You can do it. Would you help them?
You would help a sick and maimed person if you could My brother was a Christian who died of cancer even though he prayed to Jesus to heal him. How is this Jesus good? Can you answer that one? The elderly man is sympathetic. In philosophy, you have to go easy with the new ones. God made Satan, didn't he? Is there evil in this world?
The professor suddenly shouts at his student. In a still small voice: Suddenly the lecturer breaks away to pace the front of the classroom like an aging panther. The class is mesmerized. The old man shakes his head sadly. Have you ever seen Jesus? According to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your God doesn't exist. What do you say to that, son?
Where is your God now? The professor turns and smiles. Come, come, speak some proper wisdom to the gathering. The Christian looks around the room. Now I've got a question for you. Is there such thing as heat? The second Christian continues. There is no such thing as cold, otherwise we would be able to go colder than degrees.
You see, sir, cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat we can measure in thermal units because heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it. Darkness is not something, it is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light, but if you have no light constantly you have nothing and it's called darkness, isn't it? That's the meaning we use to define the word. In reality, darkness isn't. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker and give me a jar of it.
He waves his hand for the student to continue. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science cannot even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism but has never seen, much less fully understood them. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as a substantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life, merely the absence of it.
The young man holds up a newspaper he takes from the desk of a student who has been reading it. Is there such a thing as immorality? You see, immorality is merely the absence of morality. Is there such thing as injustice? Injustice is the absence of justice. Is there such a thing as evil? What is that work, God is accomplishing? The Bible tells us it is to see if each one of us will, of our own free will, choose good over evil. Since no-one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an ongoing endeavor, are you not teaching your opinion?
Are you now not a scientist, but a priest? Now, have you quite finished? The premise that everything can be examined by science is a premise which is flawed The Christian points towards his elderly, crumbling tutor. No one appears to have done so. Well, according to the rules of empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science cannot prove the professor has thoughts.
The Gospel of Second Chances
In silence the professor stared at the student, his face unreadable. Finally, after what seems an eternity, the old man answered. We see it everyday. It is in the daily example of man's inhumanity to man. It is in the multitude of crime and violence everywhere in the world. These manifestations are nothing else but evil. To this the student replied, "Evil does not exist, or at least it does not exist unto itself.
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Evil is simply the absence of God. It is just like darkness and cold, a word that man has created to describe the absence of God. God did not create evil. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God's love present in his heart. It's like the cold that comes when there is no heat or the darkness that comes when there is no light. He is despised and rejected by men, A man of sorrows and acquainted with grief.
And we hid, as it were, our faces from Him; He was despised, and we did not esteem Him. Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; Yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; The chastisement for our peace was upon Him, And by His stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; We have turned, every one, to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all. He was oppressed and He was afflicted.
Yet He opened not His mouth; He was led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before its shearers is silent, so He opened not His mouth. He was taken from prison and from judgment, And who will declare His generation? For He was cut off from the land of the living; for the transgressions of My people He was stricken.
And they made His grave with the wicked But with the rich at His death, Because He had done no violence. Nor was any deceit in His mouth. Yet it pleased the Lord to bruise Him; He has put Him to grief. But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all things that I said to you.
Peace I leave with you. My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid. You have heard Me say to you, I am going away and coming back to you. And now I have told you before it comes that when it does come to pass, you may believe.
Oh, that men would give thanks to the Lord for His goodness, and for His wonderful works to the children of men! For He satisfies the longing soul, and fills the hungry soul with goodness. Those who sat in darkness and in the shadow of death, Bound in affliction and iron because they rebelled against the words of God, and despised the counsel of the Most High. Therefore He brought down their heart with labor; they fell down, and there was none to help. Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble and He saved them out of their distresses.
He brought them out of the darkness and the shadow of death, and broke their chains in pieces. For He has broken the gates of bronze, and cut the bars of iron in two. Fools, because of their transgression, and because of their iniquities, were afflicted. Their soul abhorred all manner of food, and they drew near to the gates of death.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble, and He saved them out of their distresses. He sent His word and healed them, and delivered them from their destructions. Let them sacrifice the sacrifices of thanksgiving, and declare His works with rejoicing. As for me, I will call upon God, and the Lord shall save me. Evening and morning and at noon I will pray, and cry aloud, and He shall hear my voice.
He has redeemed my soul in peace from the battle that was against me, for there were many against me. Then I heard a loud voice saying in heaven, Now salvation, and strength, and the kingdom of our God, and the power of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night, has been cast down. And they overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony, and they did not love their lives to the death. Therefore rejoice, O heaven, and you who dwell in them!
Woe to the inhabitants of the earth and the sea! For the devil has come down to you, having great wrath, because he knows that he has a short time. Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits: Who forgives all your iniquities, who heals all your diseases, who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with loving kindness and tender mercies, Who satisfies your mouth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagles's. He has not dealt with us according to our sins, Nor punished us according to our iniquities.
For as the heavens are high above the earth, so great is His mercy toward those who fear Him; as far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us. As a father pities his children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.
Death is swallowed up in victory. O Death, where is your sting? O Hades, where is your victory? But thanks be to God who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ. The Gold and Ivory Tablecloth. At Christmas time men and women everywhere gather in their churches to wonder anew at the greatest miracle the world has ever known. But the story I like best to recall was not a miracle -- not exactly.
It happened to a pastor who was very young. His church was very old. Once, long ago, it had flourished. Famous men had preached from its pulpit, prayed before its altar. Rich and poor alike had worshipped there and built it beautifully. Now the good days had passed from the section of town where it stood. But the pastor and his young wife believed in their run-down church. They felt that with paint, hammer, and faith they could get it in shape. Together they went to work. But late in December a severe storm whipped through the river valley, and the worst blow fell on the little church -- a huge chunk of rain-soaked plaster fell out of the inside wall just behind the altar.
Sorrowfully the pastor and his wife swept away the mess, but they couldn't hide the ragged hole. The pastor looked at it and had to remind himself quickly, "Thy will be done! That afternoon the dispirited couple attended the auction held for the benefit of a youth group. The auctioneer opened a box and shook out of its folds a handsome gold and ivory lace tablecloth. It was a magnificent item, nearly 15 feet long. Who, today, had any use for such a thing? There were a few halfhearted bids. Then the pastor was seized with what he thought was a great idea.
He carried the cloth back to the church and tacked it up on the wall behind the altar. It completely hid the hole! And the extraordinary beauty of its shimmering handwork cast a fine, holiday glow over the chancel. It was a great triumph. Happily he went back to preparing his Christmas sermon. Just before noon on the day of Christmas Eve, as the pastor was opening the church, he noticed a woman standing in the cold at the bus stop.
She told him that she had come from the city that morning to be interviewed for a job as governess to the children of one of the wealthy families in town but she had been turned down.
See a Problem?
A war refugee, her English was imperfect. The woman sat down in a pew and chafed her hands and rested. After a while she dropped her head and prayed. She looked up as the pastor began to adjust the great gold and ivory cloth across the hole. She rose suddenly and walked up the steps of the chancel. She looked at the tablecloth. The pastor smiled and started to tell her about the storm damage, but she didn't seem to listen.
She took up a fold of the cloth and rubbed it between her fingers. There could not be another like it. For the next few minutes the woman and the pastor talked excitedly together. She explained that she was Viennese; that she and her husband had opposed the Nazis and decided to leave the country. They were advised to go separately. Her husband put her on a train for Switzerland. They planned that he would join her as soon as he could arrange to ship their household goods across the border.
She never saw him again. Later she heard that he had died in a concentration camp. Then she went away. As the church began to fill on Christmas Eve, it was clear that the cloth was going to be a great success. It had been skillfully designed to look its best by candlelight. After the service, the pastor stood at the doorway. Many people told him that the church looked beautiful.
One gentle-faced middle-aged man -- he was the local clock-and-watch repairman -- looked rather puzzled. In our home in Vienna, my wife put it on the table" -- and here he smiled -- "only when the bishop came to dinner. The pastor suddenly became very excited. He told the jeweler about the woman who had been in church earlier that day. The startled jeweler clutched the pastor's arm. Together the two got in touch with the family who had interviewed her. Then, in the pastor's car they started for the city. And as Christmas Day was born, this man and his wife, who had been separated through so many saddened Yule tides, were reunited.
To all who hear this story, the joyful purpose of the storm that had knocked a hole in the wall of the church was now quite clear. Of course, people said it was a miracle, but I think you will agree it was the season for it! I'm part of the fellowship of the unashamed. I have Holy Spirit power. The die is cast. I have stepped over the line. The decision has been made. I'm a disciple of Jesus. I won't look back, let up, slow down, back away, or be still. My past is redeemed, my present makes sense, my future is secure.
I'm finished and done with low living, sight walking, small planning, smooth knees, colorless dreams, tamed visions, mundane talking, cheap giving, dwarfed goals. I no longer need preeminence, prosperity, position, promotions, plaudits, or popularity. I don't have to be right, first, tops, recognized, praised, regarded, rewarded. I now live by faith, lean on God's presence, walk by patience, lift by prayer, and labor by power. My face is set, my gait is fast, my goal is heaven, my road is narrow, my way rough, my companions few, my Guide reliable, my mission clear.
I cannot be bought, compromised, detoured, lured away, turned back, deluded, or delayed. I will not flinch in the face of sacrifice, hesitate in the presence of adversity, negotiate at the table of the enemy, ponder at the pool of popularity, or meander in the maze of mediocrity. I won't give up, shut up, let up, until I have stayed up, stored up, prayed up, paid up, preached up for the cause of Christ.
I am a disciple of Jesus. I must go until He comes, give until I drop, preach until all know, and work until He stops me.
And when He comes for His own, He will have no problem recognizing me "my banner is clear"! Wedgewood Baptist Church Tragedy. We continue to express to you the glory of God spreading through our community and around the world because of this tragedy What God is doing at our church! By now almost everyone has heard of the tragedy that took place on Sept. That morning had been the day of "See You at the Pole," when students gather around their flagpole in the morning to pray for their school and nation.
What the media hasn't reported, however, is how God has been so evident, both during and after the shooting. He has done amazing works! Our pastor, Brother Al, had prayed that God would do whatever it took to expand the ministry of Wedgewood Baptist Church. Our church is one that is used as a model of how NOT to pick a location, because no one in the world knew where it is. One example is the United Methodist Church who sent 15 people the following Sunday to cover our childcare.
They didn't want any church members to have to miss the service because they were taking care of the children. One afternoon a man came home from work to find total mayhem in his house. His three children were outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard.
The door of his wife's car was open, as was the front door to the house. Proceeding into the entry, he found an even bigger mess. A lamp had been knocked over, and the throw rug was wadded against one wall. The first story is familiar to those who know the New Testament — the parable of the Prodigal Son, but told from the perspective of the son. That is followed by the story of a mother seeking her daughter who had run away to the big city.
Another similar story tells of a father desperately reaching out to his daughter who had run away with a boy. In each story, the person who left home had to overcome their pride and accept the love freely offered to them back home. Those who have regrets are addressed next — missed opportunities, squandered dreams, or drowning in sin. One story tells of people carrying around sacks of rubbish that represents their sins. Of course, that means that Max takes some creative liberties with the stories. For those struggling with forgiveness, the stories in Second Chances will be helpful.
I really liked the stories and readings. They make for quick reads, but give you quite a bit to think about. I was given a preview copy of this book with no expectations on the part of the publisher. The opinions expressed are my own and were not influenced by anyone else. Jul 31, Heather Lupu rated it it was amazing. The title of this book, Second Chances, caught my eye because I have been on the receiving end of many second chances in life. From very small happenstances to extreme life changes — being granted a second chance is the greatest form of grace I have encountered.
I was pleasantly surprised to discover this book was not comprised of chapters directing me on how to accept second chances with a grateful heart. From tradition The title of this book, Second Chances, caught my eye because I have been on the receiving end of many second chances in life.
Reconciliation restiches the unraveled, reverses the rebellion, rekindles the cold passion. Deflating inflated egos is so important to God that He offers to help. Their [Your] sin collided with their [your] Savior, and their [your] Savior won! I received this book from Thomas Nelson through their Booksneeze program. Mar 22, Mary-ann rated it it was amazing. More Stories of Grace. Second Chances is a book of how God gives us second chances all the time.
I received this book for free from NetGalley. Mar 01, Mrs. Kenyon rated it really liked it Shelves: We are all sinners and will continue to make mistakes, but Jesus paid the ultimate price for our salvation. Whether the reader is a new Christian, a long term soldier of the faith or a person just asking questions, Second Chances will give them scripture and stories to help and encourage them. Everyone can use encouragement through stories of grace. The reader will be reminded of the failure and grace that followed for Peter, David and even Moses.
Lucado masterfully weaves scripture, storytelling We are all sinners and will continue to make mistakes, but Jesus paid the ultimate price for our salvation. Lucado masterfully weaves scripture, storytelling and true stories into a book that can be read in small tastes are large gulps. Mar 21, Troy rated it it was amazing. Don't just read it if you feel you need a second chance.
This book shows God's grace and implements stories to show that. I enjoyed reading this book and will definitely read it again. I recommend this book to everyone who needs to understand God's mercy.