Have you ever wished your salvation story was a bit more dramatic? Is it unusual to hear a fantastic testimony of how God lifted a hopeless, lost and broken sinner out of the depths of destruction and think, “I wish I had a testimony like that?”
Maybe you do.
The contrast between the suffocating darkness of sin and the flooding light of God’s grace pouring into the life of a repentant sinner is find more here
About a lifetime ago, when our boys were in High School, the driver’s training instructor told all of us anxious parents what to do to prepare our excited children for his class: Take them driving. I don’t think he wanted to be the first person to sit next to a teenager who had the keys for the first time!
Do you remember the day you got your license? I do! And I’ve no idea how I passed the driving test; I didn’t know how to drive. All my friends told me what the written test would be like so I memorized the rules of the road. I knew I’d have to parallel park so I learned that, too. I passed both tests on the first try.
In the weeks after I got my license I learned how to continue here
Grrr. I hate being told that I’m wrong about something especially when there isn’t a way to prove that I’m right. This happened to me just a couple of weeks ago and oh, how I wanted to defend myself and dig up every bit of evidence I could find to state my case; but there was no evidence. It was one person’s recollection of events against another’s.
Ugh. What to do? Just suck it up and let my accuser think she is right? Let anger take root and grow into a tree of resentment that produces a harvest of bitterness? I’ve been down that route. I don’t like that path. It is a dead end that others continue here
Jesus, when the sky was dark, was it my sin that blocked the sun?
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“Photo courtesy Orange County Archives.”
Saturday was a watershed day for me – I attended my first rodeo, and let me say, I learned a lot. I learned that this is a very complex sport. It requires strength, agility, speed and a healthy respect for animals.
I also learned that a 4 to 7-year-old in Texas has a different idea of playing than a 4 to 7-year old anywhere else I’ve lived! The youngest athletes at the rodeo strap on a helmet, lie on the back of a fully grown sheep, grab hold of the wool and hang on for dear life as the sheep tries to run away; this is called “Mutton busting”. I suppose it’s the rodeo equivalent to T-ball in baseball.
Saturday’s winner – a kindergartner with a ponytail and pink cowboy boots, also find more here
Marcia Furrow 