Deep inside my young heart lies the one I want to be.
And deep inside my soul I find the seeds of divinity.
Now and then I see glimpses of the woman I can become.
I know someday I'll find her here if I don't give up.

Everyday I'm closer to the one I want to be.
And slowly I'm uncovering my heavenly qualities
and I'll continue working toward the woman I can become.
Developing my qualities through service and through love.

I am a princess, a royal Queen I'll be.
So I must choose to find and use my divine qualities.
Daughter of heaven, a Queen someday I'll be.
An heir of my Mother in heaven for eternity.

·How can I follow in Christ's steps today?

·In all my decisions today I will ask, what would Christ do?

·I will harken to promptings received.

·I will think of myself as a disciple and sister of Jesus.

"No," replied the girl.  If I pick you up, you will bite me, and your bite is poisonous."

"No, no." said the snake.  "If you help me, you will be my best friend, I will treat you differently."

The little girl sat down on a rock for a moment to rest and think things over.  She looked at the beautiful markings on the snake and had to admit that it was the most beautiful snake she had ever seen.

Suddenly, she said, "I believe you.  I will save you.  All living things deserve to be treated with kindness."

The little girl reached over, put the snake gently under her coat and proceeded toward her grandmother's house.  Within a moment, she felt a sharp pain in her side.  The snake had bitten her.

"How could you do this to me?"  She cried.  "You promised that you would not bite me if I would protect you from the bitter cold."

The snake hissed, "You knew what I was when you picked me up," and slithered away.

I just had to send you a note to tell you how much I love you and care about you.  I saw you yesterday as you were walking with your friends.  I waited all day hoping you would want to talk with me also. It hurt me, but I still love you because I am your friend.

I saw you fall asleep last night, and I longed to touch your brow. So I spilled moonlight on your pillow and your face.  Again I waited, wanting to rush down so that we could talk.  I have so many gifts for you, but you awakened late the next day and rushed off to school.  My tears were in the rain.

Today you look sad, so alone.  It makes my heart ache because I understand.  My friends let me down and hurt me so many times too.  But, I love you.  Oh, if you would only listen to me.  I really love you.  I try to tell you in the blue sky and in the green grass.  I whisper in the leaves on the trees, and breathe it in the color of the flowers.  I shout it to you in the mountain streams and give the birds love songs to sing, clothe you in warm sunshine and perfume the air with nature scents.  My
love for you is deeper than the oceans and bigger than the biggest want or need in your heart.

If you only knew how much I want to help you.  I want you to meet my Father.  He wants to help you too.  My Father is that way, you know. Just call me, ask me, talk with me. Please, please don't forget me.  I have so much to share with you.  But,
I won't hassle you any further.  You are free to call me. It's up to you. I'll wait because I love you.

Your brother,
Jesus

Read: Isaiah 41:10

"We can't keep them from reading their Bibles and knowing the truth"

"We can't even keep them from conservative values."

"But we can do something else.  We can keep them from forming an intimate, abiding experience with Christ.  If they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken.  So let them go to church, let them have their conservative lifestyles, but steal their time, so they can't gain that experience in Jesus Christ.  This is what I want you to do angels.  Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!"

"How shall we do this?"  shouted the angels

"Keep them busy in the nonessentials of life and invent unnumbered shams to occupy their minds," he answered.  "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, then borrow, borrow, borrow.  Convince the wives to go to work and the husbands to work six or seven days a week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their lifestyles.  Keep them from spending time with their children.  As their family fragments, soon, their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of work.  Over stimulate their minds so they cannot hear that still small voice."

"Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive, to keep the TV, the VCR, and their CD's going constantly in their homes. And see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays music constantly.  This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ."

"Fill their coffee tables with magazines and newspapers.  Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day.  Invade any other moments with order catalogues, every kind of newsletter and promotional offerings, free products, services and false hopes."

"Even in their recreation, let them be excessive.  Have them return from their recreation exhausted and unprepared for the coming week.  Don't let them go out in nature.  Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, and concerts instead."

"And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences and unsettled emotion."

"Let them be involved in soul-winning.  But crowd their lives with so many good causes that they have no time to seek the power from Christ. Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family unity for the good of the cause."

It was quite a convention in the end.

And all the evil angels went eagerly to their assignments causing Christians everywhere to get busy, busy, busy and rush here and there.

Has the devil been successful at his scheme?  You be the judge.

A file named, "Friends" was next to the one marked, "Friends I Have Betrayed".  The titles ranged from the mundane to the weird.  "Books I Have Read", "Lies I have told", "Comfort I have given", "Jokes I have laughed At", "People I have hurt".  Some were almost funny in their exactness.

"Things I Have Done in Anger", "Things I have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents".  Often there were many more cards than I expected.  Sometimes, fewer than I had hoped.  I was overwhelmed by the volume of life I had lived.  Could it be possible that I had the time in my young life to write each of these thousands or millions of cards?  But each card
confirmed this truth, each was written in my own handwriting.  Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked, "Songs I Have Listened To", I realized the files grew to contain the contents.  The cards were packed tightly, yet after two or three yards I hadn't found the end of the file.  I shut it, shamed, not so much of the quality music, but more by the amount of time I knew it represented.  When I came to a file marked, "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body.  I pulled the file out inch by inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card.

I shuddered at the details.  I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.  A rage broke through me.  "No one must see these cards. Not one must ever see this room.  I have to destroy them."  In a frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now.  I had to empty it and burn the cards.  I took it out and pounded it on the floor.  Not a single card would come out.  I desperately pulled out a card and tried to rip it, but it was as strong as steel.

Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a sigh, then I saw it. The title, "People I Have Shared the Gospel With".  The handles were brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused.  I pulled on its handle and a small box fell into my hands.  I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came.  I began to cry.  Sobbing so deep it hurt my stomach.  I fell on my knees and cried out in shame.  The rows of shelves whirled around me.  No one must ever know of this room.  I must lock it up and hide the key.  But as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please, not here.  Oh, anyone but Jesus!  I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards.  I couldn't bear to watch His response.  In the moments that I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw sorrow deeper than my own.  He seemed to go to the worst boxes.

Why did He have to read every one?  Finally He turned and looked at me with pity in His eyes.

But this wasn't a pity that angered me.  I dropped my head and began to cry again.  But He didn't say a word.  He just cried with me.  Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files.  Starting at one end of the room, he took out a card and one by one He began to sign His name over mine.

"NO!" I shouted, rushing at Him.  All I could find to say was, "NO, NO", as I pulled the card form Him.  His name shouldn't be on those cards.  But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive.  The name JESUS covered mine.  It was written with His blood.

He gently took the cards back.  He smiled a sad smile and began to sign all the cards.  I do not think I will ever understand how he did it so quickly.  But the next instance it seemed, I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.  He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished".

I stood up and He led me out of the room.  There was no lock on the door.  There are still cards to be written.

Morning. Yuck!  Even though there were only a few more days of school left, it sure was hard getting there.  The weather had been great all week, and besides the only thing going on a school was graduation practice.  It wasn't just me, either.  All of my senior friends had a bad case of "Senioritis".  We really were struggling those last few days. At school my friends devised a plan.  "After lunch lets all go over to the outdoor pool and catch some sun," they chimed in.  "We're not doing anything in class anyway," they agreed.  What they said made sense, and after all, we had already turned in our books in English anyway.  When the bell rang for lunch we all went and jumped in my car. As I waited in the car while they each went in to get their suits, I wondered to myself, "Why am I doing this?"  But then I concluded what could it hurt?  School was almost out for the year anyway.

We pulled up to my house and I quickly ran inside to get my suit.  I reached into my drawer and pulled out my light lavender swimsuit.  "Lavender. Purple. Integrity," I said to myself.  How could I sluff school and go down to the pool wearing this swimsuit?  All the things I had been taught in my mutual came back slamming me in the face.  Right then I knew I couldn't do it.  I turned to my friends who were waiting impatiently for me.

"Listen you guys, I can't go swimming right now," I told my friends.  "If you want to wait till after school I'd love to go, but right now I can't."  My lavender swimsuit reminded me of how I should act at all times, and in all things, and in all places.

I have to live with myself, and so---
I want to be fit for myself to know.
I want to be able as the days go by
Always to look myself straight in the eye.
I don't want to stand with the setting sun
And hate myself for the things I've done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf
A lot of secrets about myself---
And fool myself as I come and go
Into thinking that nobody else will know,
The kind of man (or woman) I really am.
I don't want to dress myself in shame.

I want to go out with my head erect;
I want to deserve all men's respect.
And, here in the struggle for fame and pelf
I want to be able to like myself.
I don't want to think, as I come and go
That I am bluster and bluff and empty show.

I can never hide myself from me
I see what others may never see;
I know what others may never know
I can never fool myself!
And so---whatever happens I want to be
Self respecting and conscience free!!!
---EA Guest

Read: Leviticus 19:16

"If you would make peace with your conscience," said the monk, "you must first fill a bag with goose downs, go to every door in the village, and drop in each one of them a feather."

The peasant did as he was told.  Then he came back to the monk and said he had done penance for his folly.

"Not yet," replied the monk.  "Take a bag, go two rounds again, and gather up every down that you have dropped."

"But the wind must have blown them all away," said the peasant.

"Yes, my son" said the monk.  "And so it is with your vile words.  Words and goose downs are quickly dropped, but try as hard as you will, you can never get them back."

From "Walking the Talk Together"

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed a figure in the distance.  As he got close, he realized the figure was that of a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.

Approaching the boy, he asked, "What are you doing?"

The youth replied, "Throwing starfish in the ocean.  The sun is up and the tide is going out.  If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

"Son," the man said, "don't you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish?  You can't possibly make a difference!"

After listening politely, the boy bent down, picked up another starfish, and threw it into the surf.  Then, smiling at the man, he said, "I made a difference for that one."

With no apparent beauty that man should Him desire,
He was the promised Savior to purify with fire.
The world despised His plainness, but those who followed Him,
Found love and light and purity; a beauty from within.

(Chorus)
Have you received His image in your countenance?
Does the Light of Christ shine in your eyes?
Will he know you when He comes again because you will be like him?
When He sees you will the Father know His child?

We seek for light and learning as followers of Christ.
That all may see His goodness reflected in our lives.
When we receive His fullness and lose desire for sin,
We radiate His perfect love, a beauty from within.

(Repeat chorus)

The ways of man may tempt us and some will be deceived,
Preferring worldly beauty, forgetting truth received.
But whisp'rings of the Spirit remind us once again,
That lasting beauty, pure and clear, must come from deep within.

(Repeat chorus)

By His everlasting image in your eyes?

His hands would serve His whole life through
Showing man what hands might do
Giving, ever giving endlessly
Each day was filled with selflessness
And I'll not rest
Til I make of my hands what they could be
Til these hands become like those from Galilee 

His hands 
Warming a beggar
Lifting a leper, calling back the dead
Breaking bread, five thousand fed 

His hands
Hushing contention, pointing to Heaven
Ever free of sin
Then bidding man to follow Him 

His hands would serve His whole life through
Showing man what hands might do
Giving, ever giving endlessly
Each day was filled with selflessness
And I'll not rest ‘til I make of my hands what they could be
’Til these hands become like those from Galilee

His hands, clasped in agony
As he lay pleading, bleeding in the garden
While just moments away, other hands betray Him
Out of greed – shameful greed.
And then His hands are trembling
Straining to carry the beam that they’d be nailed to
As He stumbles through the streets
Heading for the hill on which he’d die
He would die!

They take His hands
His mighty hands
Those gentle hands
And then they pierce them
They pierce them
He lets them because of love
From birth to death
Was selflessness
And clearly now
I see Him with His hands calling to me
And though I'm not yet as I would be 

He has shown me how I could be
I will make my hands like those from Galilee .

Object lesson: Blindfold a family member.  Have another family member stand by the door.  Turn the blindfolded person around several times. Ask him to point to the door.  Then have the blindfolded person put his hands at his side.  Now, have the other person softly say, "The door is over here."  Have the blindfolded person point in the direction of the voice.

Liken this to the Holy Ghost.  In this life sometimes we feel as thought we have been blindfolded and spun around until we are no longer sure which way is which. That is when we must listen even more carefully to the still small voice of the spirit.  The Holy Ghost will always tell us which is the best and safest direction we can go.

1. Don't let your parents down; they brought you up.
2. Choose your companions with care; you become what they are.
3. Be master of you habits or they will master you.
4. Treasure your time; don't spend it, invest it.
5. Stand for something or you'll fall for anything.
6. Select only a date that would make a good mate.
7. See what you can do for others; not what they can do for you.
8. Guard your thoughts, what you think, you are.
9. Don't fill up on this world's crumbs; feed your soul on living bread.
10. Give you all to Christ; He gave His all for you.

The cheerful girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them: a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box. "Oh please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please!" Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's
upturned face.

"A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma."

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere-Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother
said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story. One night when he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?"

"Oh yes, Daddy. You know that I love you."

"Then give me your pearls."

"Oh, Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess - the white horse from my collection. The one with the pink tail. Remember, Daddy? The one you gave me. She's my favorite."

"That's okay, Honey. Daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss. About a week later, after
the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?"

"Daddy, you know I love you." "Then give me your pearls."

"Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is so beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper."

"That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy loves you." And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian-style. As he came close, He noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek.

"What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?" Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace.

With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here, Daddy. It's for you."

With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's kind daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime-store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny. He had had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give
her genuine treasure.

So like our Heavenly Father. Wonder what we're hanging on to..

'Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste his time on the old violin,
But he held it up with a smile.
"What am I bid, good friends?"  He cried.
"Who'll start the bidding for me?
One dollar! Only one?  And who will make it two?
Two dollars, once.  And Three!
Three dollars, once.  And three dollars, twice.
And going, and going," but no.
>From the back of the room a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow.
And wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As caroling angels sing.
The music ceased, and the auctioneer
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said, "What am I bid for the old violin?"
As he held up the bow.
"One thousand dollars, and who'll make it two?
Two thousand dollars, and three!
Three thousand, once.  And three thousand, twice.
And going, and going, and gone!" said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
"We don't quite understand
What changed its worth."  Swift came the reply.
"'Twas the touch of the master's hand.'"
And many a man with life out of tune
And battered and scarred with sin,
Much like this old violin.
A mess of pottage, a glass of wine.
A game and he travels on.
He's going once, and going twice.
And going, and almost gone.
But the Master comes, and the thoughtless crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul, and the change that is wrought
By the touch of the Master's hand.
--Myra Brooks Welch