A Beautiful Flower In A Broken Pot
Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7b)
Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.
One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."
For a moment I hesitated, b
ut his next words convinced me: “I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning.” I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. “No thank you. I have plenty.” And he held up a brown paper bag.
When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn’t take a long t ime to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn’t tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.
At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children’s room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch.
He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won’t put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair.” He paused a moment and then added, “Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don’t seem to mind.” I told him he was welcome to come again.
And on his next trip he arrived a little later seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they’d be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us. In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.
Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.
When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.
“Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!” Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness’ would have been easier to bear.
I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, “If this were my plant, I’d put it in the loveliest container I had!”
My friend changed my mind. “I ran short of pots,” she explained, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting out in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden.”
She must have wondered why
I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. “He won’t mind starting in this small body.” All this happened long ago—and now, in God’s garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7b)
Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.
One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw. Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning." He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."
For a moment I hesitated, b
ut his next words convinced me: “I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning.” I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. “No thank you. I have plenty.” And he held up a brown paper bag.When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn’t take a long t ime to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn’t tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.
At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children’s room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch.
He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won’t put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair.” He paused a moment and then added, “Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don’t seem to mind.” I told him he was welcome to come again.
And on his next trip he arrived a little later seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they’d be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us. In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.
Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.
When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.
“Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!” Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness’ would have been easier to bear.
I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.
Recently I was visiting a friend who has a greenhouse, As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, “If this were my plant, I’d put it in the loveliest container I had!”
My friend changed my mind. “I ran short of pots,” she explained, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn’t mind starting out in this old pail. It’s just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden.”
She must have wondered why
I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. “Here’s an especially beautiful one,” God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. “He won’t mind starting in this small body.” All this happened long ago—and now, in God’s garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (1 Samuel 16:7b)See The Abundance Within You
This article, i got it from New Creation Church daily devotional on 12 June 2010. You will be bless!
When you were younger, were you often scolded for not finishing all your food or leaving the lights and fan on when you left your room? Were you constantly reminded that there are people starving in the world, that electricity costs a lot of money and that money doesn’t grow on trees? Now, do you find yourself telling your child the same things?Luke 17:21
21… For indeed, the kingdom of God is within you.”
We are naturally conscious of lack, but Jesus isn’t. Even in the midst of lack, He was always conscious of abundance. Remember the little boy’s five loaves and two fish? What did Jesus do when these were placed in His hands? Did He say, “What do you expect Me to do with so little?” No, His eyes were not on the natural, the visible, the lack. His eyes were on the kingdom of God where there is always abundance. So in His hands, the little boy’s lunch was multiplied, and 5,000 men, not counting women and children, were fed that day! (John 6:1–13)
God doesn’t want you to be conscious of the lack in your natural circumstances. He doesn’t want you to live by how much you earn or how much you have in the bank. Now, I am not encouraging you to spend foolishly beyond your means. I am saying that God wants you to be conscious of the abundance of resources in His kingdom.
“But Pastor Prince, where is that kingdom?”
As long as you have received Jesus as your Savior, that kingdom is in you!
Jesus said that “the kingdom of God is within you”. This means that the kingdom of God is not some physical place. It is within you and it is where the abundance of resources is. So if you want to experience abundance in your life, be conscious first of the abundance inside you. Then, what is inside you will become a reality on the outside.
Beloved, God doesn’t want you to be conscious of the lack you see outside you. He wants you to be conscious of the abundance within you because His kingdom is within you!
纯真的心
众中有一个小女孩，因个子太小，几乎没有人看得到她，但她也来参加祈雨祷告会。
就在这时候，牧师注意到小女孩所带来的东西，激动地在台上指着她说：‘那位小妹妹很让我感动！’于是大家顺着他手指的方向看了过去。
牧师接着说：‘我们今天来祷告祈求上帝降雨，可是整个会堂中，只有她一
个人今天带着雨伞！’大家仔细一看，果然，她的座位旁挂了一把红色的小雨伞。这时大家沉静了一下，紧接而来的，是一阵掌声与泪水交织的美景。
The pretty lady
Once upon a time a big monk and a little monk were traveling together. They came to the bank of a river and found the bridge was damaged. They had to wade across the river. There was a pretty lady who was stuck at the damaged bridge and couldn't cross the river. The big monk offered to carry her across the river on his back. The lady accepted. The little monk was shocked by the move of the big monk. 'How can big brother carry a lady when we are supposed to avoid all intimacy with females?' thought the little monk. But he kept quiet.
The big monk carried the lady across the river and the small monk followed unhappily. When they crossed the river, the big monk let the lady down and they parted ways with her. All along the way for several miles, the little monk was very unhappy with the act of the big monk. He was making up all kinds of accusations about big monk in his head. This got him madder and madder. But he still kept quiet. And the big monk had no inclination to explain his situation.
Finally, at a rest point many hours later, the little monk could not stand it any further, he burst out angrily at the big monk. 'How can you claim yourself a devout monk, when you seize the first opportunity to touch a female, especially when she is very pretty? All your teachings to me make you a big hypocrite The big monk looked surprised and said, 'I had put down the pretty lady at the river bank many hours ago, how come you are still carrying her along?'
This very old Chinese Zen story reflects the thinking of many people today. We encounter many unpleasant things in our life, they irritate us and they make us angry. Sometimes, they cause us a lot of hurt, sometimes they cause us to be bitter or jealous. But like the little monk, we are not willing to let them go away. We keep on carrying the baggage of the 'pretty lady' with us. We let them keep on coming back to hurt us, make us angry, make us bitter and cause us a lot of agony. Why? Simply because we are not willing to put down or let go of the baggage of the 'pretty lady'. We should let go of the pretty lady immediately after crossing the river, that is after the unpleasant event is over. This will immediately remove all our agonies. There is no need to be further hurt by the unpleasant event after it is over.
Hold my hands
Little girl and her father were crossing a bridge. The father was kind of scared so he asked his little daughter, 'Sweetheart, please hold my hand so that you don't fall into the river.'
The little girl said, 'No, Dad. You hold my hand.'
'What's the difference?' Asked the puzzled father.
'There's a big difference,' replied the little girl. 'If I hold your hand and something happens to me, chances are that I may let your hand go. But if you hold my hand, I know for sure that no matter what happens, you will never let my hand go.'
~THE END~
In any relationship, the essence of trust is not in its bind, but in its bond.
This short story makes me recall how I trusted the Lord when I just met Him years ago. Days that I was misunderstood by, seem like people had forgotten about my existing. However, the Lord never leave me because I chose to let Him hold my hands.
There is a verse that speak deeply in my heart, such assurance from Him This short story makes me recall how I trusted the Lord when I just met Him years ago. Days that I was misunderstood by, seem like people had forgotten about my existing. However, the Lord never leave me because I chose to let Him hold my hands.
“Can a woman forget her nursing child, and not have compassion on the son of her womb? Surely they may forget, Yet I will not forget you. See, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me. Isaiah 49:15-16
妇 人 焉 能 忘 记 他 吃 奶 的 婴 孩 ， 不 怜 恤 他 所 生 的 儿 子 ？ 即 或 有 忘 记 的 ， 我 却 不 忘 记 你。看 哪 ， 我 将 你 铭 刻 在 我 掌 上 ； 你 的 墙 垣 常 在 我 眼 前 。 以 賽 亞 書 49:15-16
If you had been waiting for people to hold your hands or maybe you are
expecting others to hold your hands. At this moment, open your hands for Jesus
to hold you. Others may let go their hands or you may let go others hands but the hand of Jesus is like the hand of the father to the little girl, He never let go. As He had promised, He had inscribed my name and your name on the palms of His hand and it is always in front of Him.
expecting others to hold your hands. At this moment, open your hands for Jesus
to hold you. Others may let go their hands or you may let go others hands but the hand of Jesus is like the hand of the father to the little girl, He never let go. As He had promised, He had inscribed my name and your name on the palms of His hand and it is always in front of Him.