Entertaining Angels

It was 50 years ago, on a hot summer day, in the deep south. We lived on a dirt road, on a sand lot. We were, what was known as “dirt poor”. I had been playing outside all morning in the sand.

Suddenly, I heard a sharp clanking sound behind me and looking over my shoulder, my eyes were drawn to a strange sight! Across the dirt road were two rows of men, dressed in black and white, striped, baggy uniforms. Their faces were covered with dust and sweat. They looked so weary, and they were chained together with huge, black, iron chains. Hanging from the end of each chained row was a big, black, iron ball.

They were, as polite people said in those days, a “Chain Gang,” guarded by two, heavily armed, white guards. I stared at the prisoners as they settled uncomfortably down in the dirt, under the shade of some straggly trees. One of the guards walked towards me. Nodding as he passed, he went up to our front door and knocked. My mother appeared at the door, and I heard the guard ask if he could have permission to get water from the pump, in the backyard, so that “his men” could “have a drink”. My mother agreed, but I saw a look of concern on her face, as she called me inside.

I stared through the window as each prisoner was unchained from the line, to hobble over to the pump and drink his fill from a small tin cup, while a guard watched vigilantly. It wasn’t long before they were all chained back up again, with prisoners and guards retreating into the shade, away from an unrelenting sun. I heard my mother call me into the kitchen, and I entered, to see her bustling around with tins of tuna fish, mayonnaise, our last loaf of bread, and two, big, pitchers of lemonade. In what seemed “a blink of an eye”, she had made a tray of sandwiches using all the tuna we were to have had for that night’s supper.

My mother was smiling as she handed me one of the pitchers of lemonade, cautioning me to carry it “carefully” and to “not spill a drop.” Then, lifting the tray in one hand and holding a pitcher in her other hand, she marched me to the door, deftly opening it with her foot, and trotted me across the street. She approached the guards, flashing them with a brilliant smile. “We had some leftovers from lunch,” she said, “and I was wondering if we could share with you and your men.” She smiled at each of the men, searching their dark eyes with her own eyes of “robin’s egg blue.”

Everyone started to their feet. “Oh no!” she said. “Stay where you are! I’ll just serve you!” Calling me to her side, she went from guard to guard, then from prisoner to prisoner, filling each tin cup with lemonade, and giving each man a sandwich.

It was very quiet, except for a “thank you, ma’am,” and the clanking of the chains. Very soon we were at the end of the line, my mother’s eyes softly scanning each face. The last prisoner was a big man, his dark skin pouring with sweat, and streaked with dust. Suddenly, his face broke into a wonderful smile, as he looked up into my mother’s eyes, and he said, “Ma’am, I’ve wondered all my life if I’d ever see an angel, and now I have! Thank you!”

Again, my mother’s smile took in the whole group. “You’re all welcome!” she said. “God bless you.” Then we walked across to the house, with empty tray and pitchers, and back inside.

Soon, the men moved on, and I never saw them again. The only explanation my mother ever gave me, for that strange and wonderful day, was that I “remember, always, to entertain strangers, for by doing so, you may entertain angels, without knowing.”

Then, with a mysterious smile, she went about the rest of the day. I don’t remember what we ate for supper, that night. I just know it was served by an angel.

Meditation: Give, and it will be given to you: good measure, pressed down, shaken together, and running over will be put into your bosom. For with the same measure that you use, it will be measured back to you. – Luke 6:38

You will succeed in Jesus Name!

Not Everyone Who Sees Discerns the Truth

Not everyone who has a head uses it to think beyond the banalities of life; not everyone who speaks knows the rudiments of what they are harping about; and not everyone who sees discerns the truth from the facts.

Marriage and Wisdom

 

Marriage is perhaps one of the best indicators of our smartness and an extractor of the real person within us. Solomon was the wisest man in his time. This was until his choice of marital alliance and the steps he took afterwards proved him otherwise.

-Babatunde Oladele

Rudy's Angel

I walked into the grocery store not particularly interested in buying groceries. I wasn’t hungry. The pain of losing my husband of 37 years was still too raw. And this grocery store held so many sweet memories.

Rudy often came with me and almost every time he’d pretend to go off and look for something special. I knew what he was up to. I’d always spot him walking down the aisle with the three yellow roses in his hands.

Rudy knew I loved yellow roses. With a heart filled with grief, I only wanted to buy my few items and leave, but even grocery shopping was different since Rudy had passed on.

Shopping for one took time, a little more thought than it had for two. Standing by the meat, I searched for the perfect small steak and remembered how Rudy had loved his steak.

Suddenly a woman came beside me. She was blond, slim and lovely in a soft green pantsuit. I watched as she picked up a large pack of T-bones, dropped them in her basket, hesitated, and then put them back. She turned to go and once again reached for the pack of steaks. She saw me watching her and she smiled. “My husband loves T-bones, but honestly, at these prices, I don’t know.”

I swallowed the emotion down my throat and met her pale blue eyes. “My husband passed away eight days ago,” I told her. Glancing at the package in her hands, I fought to control the tremble in my voice. “Buy him the steaks. And cherish every moment you have together.”

She shook her head and I saw the emotion in her eyes as she placed the package in her basket and wheeled away.

I turned and pushed my cart across the length of the store to the dairy products. There I stood, trying to decide which size milk I should buy. A quart, I finally decided and moved on to the ice cream section near the front of the store. If nothing else, I could always fix myself an ice cream cone. I placed the ice cream in my cart and looked down the aisle toward the front.

I saw first the green suit, then recognized the pretty lady coming towards me. In her arms she carried a package. On her face was the brightest smile I had ever seen. I would swear a soft halo encircled her blond hair as she kept walking toward me, her eyes holding mine. As she came closer, I saw what she held and tears began misting in my eyes. “These are for you,” she said and placed three beautiful long stemmed yellow roses in my arms. “When you go through the line, they will know these are paid for.” She leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, then smiled again.

I wanted to tell her what she’d done, what the roses meant, but still unable to speak, I watched as she walked away as tears clouded my vision. I looked down at the beautiful roses nestled in the green tissue wrapping and found it almost unreal. How did she know?

Suddenly the answer seemed so clear. I wasn’t alone. “Oh, Rudy, you haven’t forgotten me, have you?” I whispered, with tears in my eyes. He was still with me, and she was his angel.

Everyday be thankful for what you have and who you are.

— Author Unknown

Meditation: But I do not want you to be ignorant, brethren, concerning those who have fallen asleep, lest you sorrow as others who have no hope. For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with Him those who sleep in Jesus. – 1 Thessalonians 4:13-14

You will succeed in Jesus Name!

Sense of Relevance

If you derive your sense of relevance or feeling of self-worth/importance from who you know, who you are close to, or who you work with, if you fall out of favour with such person or s/he ceases to occupy the position of honour that pulls you up in tow; or, worse still, the person dies, you may have a difficult time convincing yourself thereafter how important you are in the absence of your “crutch.”

Racing Down The River

Someone once said, “True freedom is not a question of doing as we like, but doing as we ought.”

Clovis Chappell, a nineteenth-century minister, used to tell an interesting story about two paddleboats. The two boats, powered by coal, left Memphis about the same time, traveling down the Mississippi River to New Orleans. As they travelled side-by-side, sailors from one vessel made some critical remarks and jokes about the snail’s pace of the other boat.

Heated words were exchanged between the men on the two boats. Challenges were made. So the race began. The competition was hot and heavy as the two boats roared through the Deep South.

Eventually, one boat began falling behind. The problem: it didn’t have enough fuel. There had been plenty of coal for the trip, but not enough for a race.

As the boat dropped back, an enterprising young sailor took some of the ship’s cargo and tossed it into the boat’s ovens. When his fellow sailors saw that the supplies burned as well as coal, they fuelled their boat with the material they had been assigned to transport.

Guess what? They ended up winning the race. But they burned their cargo.

How does this apply to our lives?

The men on the winning boat did what they liked, which was winning the race. But the price for that victory was expensive. The boat’s cargo, the very reason they were traveling down the river in the first place, was sacrificed. So they failed to do what they ought to have done, which was to safely transport their cargo.

You may not have thought about it, but God has entrusted each of us with cargo. Our cargo is other people, such as friends and family, and the ability He has given us to help someone else. We are responsible for this cargo, and ought to cherish it in our journey through life.

However, like the men on the winning boat, often we fail in that responsibility. As Billy Graham says, “We hurt people by being too busy. Too busy to notice their needs. Too busy to drop that note of comfort or encouragement or assurance of love. Too busy to listen when someone needs to talk. Too busy to care.”

Are you too busy to care? When opportunities occur to help others, do you take advantage of those opportunities? Or do you burn your cargo as you busily do what you like?

Be diligent, and do what you ought to do. Slow down for the needs of your family and friends. Seize opportunities to help people when it is within your power to do so.

Finally, remember one other cargo God has entrusted to you. It is the Good News of Jesus Christ. Diligently share that Good News with others, and help people who are using their gifts for Christ reach even more people. Your diligence with the cargo God has given you will be very rewarding.

By Rich McLawhorn

Meditation: And Jesus answered and said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.” – Luke 10:41-42

You will succeed in Jesus Name!

The Significant Others

Most of human failures are catalysed by the failings of the significant others. If you observe that someone is drifting away from the ideal, then it is time to intensify your compassion rather than resort to criticism. People struggling need out friendship, not, not alienation; they need engagement, not isolation.

-Babatunde Oladele