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    Over the years I have been given some incredible stories and have been sent some great emails.  I used to hate getting emails that I had to go through 6-8 screens in order to open a 5 line email - sound familiar?  Well for the past 6 years I have made a file of some of the ones that I liked - for what reason I never knew.  Well now with this website I have a chance to sharing some of them with you without loading your email up.  I am going to add some from time to time because I am going in and cleaning up the ones I have in my file, some I must type into the computer because they are letters or notes that I have taken.  Please come back to this page as often as you can and I will try to keep you updated with something new.


List of Stories


December 2001

57 Cents

A MOMENT TOGETHER    By Lillian Hinds

A THANKSGIVING POEM

Are you laughing?

"Miss Hondorf...I've just got to play!"

AWESOME PRAYER:

Checking Your Christmas List Larry Davies

January 2002

 

 

 

 


57 Cents

A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it was too crowded. "I can't go to Sunday School?" she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by.  Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class. The child was so touched that she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.

Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings and the parents called for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their daughter, to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note scribbled in childish handwriting which read, "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday school."

 For two years she had saved for this offering of love. When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do.

 Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building.

 But the story does not end there! A newspaper learned of the story and published it. A Realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands read it. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered it for 57 cents. Church members made large donations.

Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00--a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century).

Her unselfish love had paid large dividend.

When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300 and Temple University, where hundreds of students are trained. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of Sunday Scholars, so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside during Sunday school time.

In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history.  Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russell H. Conwell, author of the book, Acres of Diamonds.

A true story, which goes to show WHAT GOD, CAN DO WITH 57 cents.  Consider what Zoeller Motorsports Ministries, Inc. could with your 57 cents, or 57 thousand, reading this true story may touch your heart.

 


A MOMENT TOGETHER                 By Lillian Hinds

 

When I was 19, my dad called me one afternoon to say that he was at the hospital emergency room. He hastened to tell me that he and mother were ok, but they had been in a car wreck and mother was hurt.

 

I jumped in my car and rushed to the hospital.  Mother was lying on the gurney with a nurse holding a compress on her forehead.  She had gone through the windshield and had cut an artery in her face.  She looked terrible and there was blood everywhere, but she seemed okay otherwise. She looked at me and seemed to need my reassurance.

 

Suddenly, I knew exactly what to do. I leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Do you have on clean underwear?"

 

Mother started laughing.  She laughed at me and she laughed at herself.  So many times when I was leaving the house, she would ask, "Do you have on clean underwear?  If you're in an accident and have to go to the Emergency Room, you'll be embarrassed if you don't have on clean underwear."

 

There, in the hospital emergency room, I held her hand and we had a moment together.  Because, she had taught me that it was important to be able to laugh at any circumstance and at myself.

 

And of course, to always wear clean underwear! She squeezed my hand and rested. Everything was going to be all right. After all, she knew she had on clean underwear.


A THANKSGIVING POEM

 

TWAS THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING, I JUST COULDN'T SLEEP I TRIED COUNTING BACKWARDS, I TRIED COUNTING SHEEP.  THE LEFTOVERS BECKONED - THE DARK MEAT AND WHITE BUT I FOUGHT THE TEMPTATION WITH ALL OF MY MIGHT

 

TOSSING AND TURNING WITH ANTICIPATION THE THOUGHT OF A SNACK BECAME INFATUATION.

 

SO, I RACED TO THE KITCHEN, FLUNG OPEN THE DOOR AND GAZED AT THE FRIDGE, FULL OF GOODIES GALORE.

 

I GOBBLED UP TURKEY AND BUTTERED POTATOES, PICKLES AND CARROTS, BEANS AND TOMATOES.

 

I FELT MYSELF SWELLING SO PLUMP AND SO ROUND, 'TIL ALL OF A SUDDEN, I ROSE OFF THE GROUND.

 

I CRASHED THROUGH THE CEILING, FLOATING INTO THE SKY WITH A MOUTHFUL OF PUDDING AND A HANDFUL OF PIE.

 

BUT, I MANAGED TO YELL AS I SOARED PAST THE TREES.... HAPPY EATING TO ALL - PASS THE CRANBERRIES, PLEASE.

 

MAY YOUR STUFFING BE TASTY, MAY YOUR TURKEY BE PLUMP. MAY YOUR POTATOES 'N GRAVY HAVE NARY A LUMP,

 

MAY YOUR YAMS BE DELICIOUS MAY YOUR PIES TAKE THE PRIZE, MAY YOUR THANKSGIVING DINNER STAY OFF OF YOUR THIGHS.

 

MAY YOUR THANKSGIVING BE BLESSED!!

 


Are you laughing?

 

Hummm..

One day Satan and Jesus were having a conversation. Satan had just come from the Garden of Eden, and he was gloating and boasting. “Yes, sir, I just caught the world full of people down there. Set me a trap, used bait I knew they could not resist. Got 'em all!"

"What are you going to do with them?" Jesus asked. Satan replied, "Oh, I'm gonna have fun! I'm gonna teach them how to marry and divorce each other, how to hate and abuse each other, how to drink and smoke and curse. I'm gonna teach them how to invent guns and bombs and kill each other. I'm really gonna have fun!"

 

"And what will you do when you get done with them?" Jesus asked.  "Oh, I'll kill 'em," Satan glared proudly.

 

"How much do you want for them?" Jesus asked.

 

"Oh, you don't want those people. They ain't no good. Why, you'll take them and they'll just hate you. They'll spit on you, curse you and kill you!! You don't want those people!!"

 

"How much?" He asked again.

 

Satan looked at Jesus and sneered, "All your tears, and all your blood."

 

Jesus said, "DONE!"

 

Then He paid the price.

 

Isn't it funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell?

 

Isn't it funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says?

 

Isn't it funny how everyone wants to go to heaven provided they do not have to believe, think, say, or do anything the Bible says.

 

Or is it scary?

 

Isn't it funny how someone can say, "I believe in God" but still follow Satan (who, by the way, also "believes" in God)?

 

Isn't it funny how you can send a thousand jokes through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing? OR DELETE THEM.

 

Isn't it funny how the lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene pass freely through cyberspace, but the public discussion of Jesus is suppressed in the school and workplace?

 

Isn't it funny how someone can be so fired up for Christ on Sunday, but be an invisible Christian the rest of the week.

 

Are you laughing?

 

Isn't it funny how I can be more worried about what other people think of me than what God thinks of me?

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"Miss Hondorf...I've just got to play!"

At the prodding of my friends, I am writing this story.  My name is Mildred Hondorf.  I am a former elementary school music teacher from DeMoines, Iowa.  I've always supplemented my income by teaching piano lessons--something I've done for over 30 years.  Over the years I found that children have many levels of musical ability.  I've never had the pleasure of having a protégé though I have taught some talented students. However, I've also had my share of what I call "musically challenged” pupils. 

One such student was Robby.  Robby was 11 years old when his mother (a single mom) dropped him off for his first piano lesson.  I prefer that students (especially boys!) begin at an earlier age, which I explained to Robby.  But Robby said that it had always been his mother's dream to hear him play the piano.  So I took him as a student. Well, Robby began with his piano lessons and from the beginning I thought it was a hopeless endeavor.  As much as Robby tried, he lacked the sense of tone and basic rhythm needed to excel.  But he dutifully reviewed his scales and some elementary pieces that I require all my students to learn. Over the months, he tried and tried while I listened and cringed and tried to encourage him. 

At the end of each weekly lesson he’d always say, "My mom's going to hear me play some day."  But it seemed hopeless.  He just did not have any inborn ability.  I only knew his mother from a distance as she dropped Robby off or waited in her aged car to pick him up.  She always waved and smiled but never stopped in.  Then one day Robby stopped coming to our lessons.  I thought about calling him but assumed, because of his lack of ability, that he had decided to pursue something else.  I also was glad that he stopped coming.  He was a bad advertisement for my teaching! Several weeks later, I mailed to the student's homes a flyer on the upcoming recital. 

To my surprise, Robby (who received a flyer) asked me if he could be in the recital. I told him that the recital was for current pupils and because he had dropped out he really did not qualify. He said that his mom had been sick and unable to take him to piano lessons but he was still practicing.  "Miss Hondorf...I've just got to play!" he insisted.  I don't know what led me to allow him to play in the recital. Maybe it was his persistence or maybe it was something inside of me saying that it would be all right. The night for the recital came.  The high school gymnasium was packed with parents, friends and relatives. I put Robby up last in the program before I was to come up, thank all the students, and play a finishing piece. I thought that any damage he would do would come at the end of the program and I could always salvage his poor performance through my "curtain closer." 

Well the recital went off without a hitch.  The students had been practicing and it showed. Then Robby came up on stage.  His clothes were wrinkled and his hair looked like he' run an eggbeater through it. "Why didn't he dress up like the other students?" I thought.  "Why didn't his mother at least make him comb his hair for this special night?" Robby pulled out the piano bench and he began. 

I was surprised when he announced that he had chosen Mozart's Concerto #21 in C Major. I was not prepared for what I heard next. His fingers were light on the keys; they even danced nimbly on the ivories.  He went from pianissimo to fortissimo...from allegro to virtuoso.  His suspended chords that Mozart demands were magnificent!  Never had I heard Mozart played so well by people his age after six and a half minutes he ended in a grand crescendo and everyone was on their feet in wild applause.  Overcome and in tears I ran up on stage and put my arms around Robby in joy.  "I've never heard you play like that Robby!  How'd you do it?" Through the microphone Robby explained: 

"Well Miss Hondorf...remember I told you my mom was sick? Well actually she had cancer and passed away this morning. And well.... she was born deaf so tonight was the first time she ever heard me play. I wanted to make it special."  There wasn't a dry eye in the house that evening. 

As the people from Social Services led Robby from the stage to be placed into foster care, I noticed that even their eyes were red and puffy and I thought to myself how much richer my life had been for taking Robby as my pupil.  No, I've never had a protégé but that night I became a protégé...of Robby's.  He was the teacher and I was the pupil.  For it is he that taught me the meaning of perseverance and love and believing in yourself and maybe even taking a chance in someone and you don't know why. This is especially meaningful to me since after serving in Desert Storm. Robby was killed in the senseless bombing of the Alfred P. Murral Federal Building in Oklahoma City in April of 1995, where he was reportedly.... playing the piano. 

And now, a footnote to the story.  If you are thinking about sharing this story, you are probably thinking about which people on your address list aren't the "appropriate" ones to receive this type of message. The people at Zoeller Motorsports Ministries who presented this to you believe that we can all make a difference. We all have thousands of opportunities a day to help realize God's plan. So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people. Will you be the student or teacher today?  Will you ask someone if they have Jesus in their heart today?  Why not?  They could be the next Billy Graham.

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AWESOME PRAYER:

 

  

        May today there be peace within you.

 

  

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

 

 

 

 

 "I believe that friends are quiet angels who lift us to our feet when our wings have trouble remembering how to fly."

 

 

                                                Stephen & Stephanie

 

 


Checking Your Christmas List Larry Davies

 

"Let's see if I've got my Christmas to-do list done...."

 

v        Put up the Christmas tree... check.

v        Bought Christmas presents... check.

v        Hung stockings with care... check.

v        Children visited Santa... Oops...They're too old.

v        Watched Miracle on 34th Street... 4 times... check.

v        Heard, "Grandma Got Run Over..." 400 times... Aaaah! check.

 

Confessed and repented of my sins.... What?

"Shades of John the Baptist!" What a depressing way to think about Christmas. Larry, don't you know that confession and repentance are out?  Codependency, Dysfunctional, Fetish, Psychosis, Neurosis and other excuses are the new terms for the 21st century. Why go back in time? Yet every year during Christmas and Easter, church leaders and pastors read something from the Bible about John the Baptist and his emphasis on confession and repentance. Why? 

I would be willing to bet a large sum. this is not the Christmas message you wanted to hear. Am I right? Don't give up hope yet, there is an uplifting ending, so stay with me.

In each of the four Gospels you can almost hear the shrill voice of John the Baptist, the animal skin clad, bug-eating prophet who proclaimed himself as, "A voice shouting in the wilderness; 'Prepare a pathway for the Lord's coming! Make a straight road for Him!'" (Luke 3:4) His next statement however should get your attention: "You ungrateful pile of snakes! Don't just talk about being a follower of God...do something about it!" (7-8)That' s pretty strong language. Wait! There is more! "Even now the ax of God's judgment is poised ready to sever your roots. Yes, every tree that does not produce good fruit will be chopped down and thrown into the fire." (9) Ouch, that hurts! No wonder he was beheaded.

       

But John the Baptist is right. We need to hear the voice in the wilderness crying out: "prepare a pathway." Prepare a pathway is describing three basic steps of the Christian faith: 

1. Sin: is anything that separates us from God. We all do it. We all must face it.

2. Confession: is the courage of admitting we are flawed human beings in need of help.

3. Repentance is our willingness to ask for and accept God's power to change us.

A recent Gallop poll showed that Americans believe in Jesus Christ but few translate belief into action. The studies show, as much dishonesty and unethical behavior within the church as out. Divorce rates are as high within the church as out. When surveyed, people described religion as a balm for overcoming depression rather than a call for serious change. "Don't just talk about it. do something!"

 

The crowd responded to John the Baptist by asking, "What do we do?" (Read Luke 3:10-14) He said:

* Share: Not just with your family but anyone in need. Give some of your blessings away. Learning to give is not just putting more money in the offering plate... it's a foundation of your faith.

* Play Fair: Be honest in your relationship with others! Employers, treat workers with genuine respect! Employees, earn your pay! Take a stand for what is right but with an attitude of love.

* Be Content: We all want to be successful but God often has different ideas on what success really means. It may be time to ask yourself: "Am I where God wants me to be?"

 

This kind of preparation applies to all, from preachers to pew-sitters to sleep-in-and-forget-about-it believers. "Making a straight path." may be the most important Christmas preparation we attempt.

 

What about you? Does your Christmas list include an old-fashioned talk with God about your sinful behavior? God's promise is to listen with compassion, offer total forgiveness, enable you to change and continue loving you. Isn't
that great? The "Good News" is that by following John the Baptist now you will really appreciate what happens on Christmas Day. "Prepare a pathway for the Lord's coming!"

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January 2002

 


 

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We are chasing God with horsepower

Zoeller Motorsports Ministries, Inc.
P O Box 100828
Cape Coral, FL 33910 USA
941-945-3333

RaceRev@RaceRev.com

 

 

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