God's Gift Destroyed

'Welcome! I'm your Father.'

The cells had divided and life commenced inside a young woman.

'You're my Father?'

'And mine too?'

The 'thoughts' were passing between God and His two newest creations.

'Yes my children. You are both starting on a long and beautiful journey.'

'Where are we going?'

'Your final destination will be with me in my kingdom.'

"Steve, I'm pregnant."

Samantha's voice was weak with apprehension.

"No, Sam! Why'd you do that for? No way we can have a kid right now!"

Steve was annoyed and felt a little fear at the same time.

"Why did I do this? Don't you mean we?"

Hurt flashed through her.

'What kind of man is he? Is this his idea of love?'

"What are you gonna do about it Sam?"

"What do you mean, what am I to do about it?"

Anger was mounting between two college 'kids' who thought that they were in love. How many times had this scenario been played out? Samantha and Steve were third year 'med' students who had been living together for the past two years. Their apartment was a one-bedroom affair in an old red brick building. It was their love nest and they seemed very much in love. They were both from Christian families and very good students. Church had been taking a back seat for quite sometime now. They worked very hard and were both planning on becoming doctors.

Samantha's pregnancy test had been about at the end of her first month. The two embryos were now a sixteenth of an inch long with functioning circulatory systems, and their spinal cords were closed. Life was developing rapidly within the future mother's body.

'How are my children today?' God was communicating with His two new beings again.

'Father, we are both feeling changes in us.'

'It is normal my children, many changes will occur continuously. Do not be afraid. I am with you, always.'

"Sam, we need to talk." Steve was becoming more and more difficult to live with since Samantha had told him about her pregnancy.

"Okay babe, let's do talk." A change was coming over her since she had learned of her future motherhood.

"Sam at some moment we will have to take action concerning your condition. I love you. You know that. But ther..."

"No! I don't know that! And I am wondering more and more if I haven't made a mistake by loving you."

"But Sam, I do love you! I sincerely want us to stay together forever. And Hon.."

"And get married?! Do you love me enough to marry me?"

"Oh Sam. You know that marriage is out until we both finish college. We need to establish ourselves first."

"Look!"

She was pointing at her stomach.

"Something is being established here!"

"Honey, we must finish college. Both of us!"

"Steve, we have other responsibilities to cope with now!" Samantha couldn't hide her anger.

"And what about our loans? Who will work to pay them off if we have a child? Get real Sam!"

"No, you get real. I want this baby and I want a real man to be its father!"

Samantha left Steve alone and locked herself in the bathroom to cry.

And so the days turned to weeks, as the young couple discovered the trials and pains endured by so many before them. Sam had arrived at the end of her second month, and her two little 'stowaways' had undergone extensive transformations. Their cardiac valves and four chambers of their hearts were now established and functioning, and nervous system development has begun, along with motor activity. Amazing life!

'Father, are you there?' The little stowaways were getting lively.

'I am always here for you.'

'Father, we feel strange pulsations going through us and around us.'

'What you feel is life pulsating from your heart throughout your body. You will experience this wonderful feeling for the rest of your life here on earth.'

Samantha was taking a bath when she felt the movement inside. At first, she thought it to be gas, then she realized that it was them. She was content that these little stowaways were growing and changing her being and soul. Samantha had just experienced her first ultrasound and was awed to learn that they are two! Twins! 'Wow!' She was actually feeling like a mother already. Now to break the news to Steve.

"Sam, your grades are starting to suffer. Did you go to work this afternoon? Our money is starting to run low."

"Steve, look at this."

She was standing in front of him, her hands on her belly." There are two of them in there! Boys."

"Are you serious? We've gotta stop this. Please, be reasonable. Don't you care about our future?" Steve ended his phrase with both arms held out in front of him, palms upturned.

"Because there's a future with you?!"

Samantha was now glaring at him.

"Sam, we are supposed to be studying to become doctors, not starting a family and getting married! Don't put the cart before the horse. Have you talked this over with your parents?"

"Yes, Steve. and dad have known about it since the beginning. They want me to have the babies. And they would like for us to marry too."

"Are they nuts?!"

"No Steve, Christians! Remember what that means?"

"Well, my parents say that we should fix it as soon as possible."

"I thought that your parents were Christians?"

"They are, but I am their priority right now. They don't want me to miss out on becoming a doctor, Sam."

Their conversation ended there. They both now contemplated on what the other had stated. Samantha's two tiny 'stowaways' were now jerking their little bodies and starting to flex their tiny legs and arms. Their weight had increased to three-quarter of an ounce, which is about the same weight as a letter. They were always conversing with the Father by thoughts.

'Are you two having fun jumping around?'

'Father, what are these things that we feel?'

'Children, those are what you will touch with and hold with. They are called arms and hands. The others are called legs. They will allow you to go from one place to another.'

'How can we do that?'

'Oh my little loved ones, that will come much later. For now, just enjoy yourselves by kicking your legs and flexing your arms.'

'Okay, Father. Yahoo!'

Samantha was sitting on the couch studying. It seemed as though the little 'stowaways' were having races, as she watched the bumps going back and forth across her belly. She couldn't fathom how Steve didn't understand her happiness about being pregnant. There were moments that he sat beside her and smiled as he felt the babies move around inside.

"Sam, this is remarkable. I never thought of myself as a father before."

"Does that mean that you will be happy to be a daddy?"

"Not yet. But I love you more and more, Sam."

"Steve, I love you too and I really want us to finish our studies and live our lives together. I want to make you happy."

"Me too."

And so the fourth month passed for Samantha, her stowaways, and Steve. The little beings are now about six inches long. Their arms and hands are fully shaped with fingernails on the ends of their tiny fingers. Feet and legs are fully molded, and hair has already started to appear. During the fourth and fifth month, the little stowaways begin reacting to sound and their hair becomes courser and takes on color.

'Children, you are becoming more beautiful each minute!'

'Father, what are the sounds that we feel?'

'You are discovering what you will hear in your new environment.'

'What is that thumping noise? It makes us sleepy.'

'That is your mother's heartbeat. There is no other sound more beautiful or comforting.'

'And what is the sound that makes us jump around, but feels so good passing through us?'

'Ahh, that is called music, my children. You will discover an endless variety of music during your lifetime.'

'And we feel sounds, like what we experience between you and us when we communicate.'

'That is speech, my little ones. You hear your mother's and father's voices.'

'May we stay here forever?'

'Oh no, my children. You must one day leave your mother's womb and bring her joy. When the time arrives, you will be ready.'

"Okay, so now what? Where are we going to now Steve?"

They were lying on the bed making plans for the next few months. She wanted marriage so badly that she was considering some concessions.

"Well, I really would like for you to see the specialist that my parents know. Just one visit, Sam?"

"Okay, but only because I love you and want us to be happy together."

"Things will be fine, Sam. Just trust me..."

Steve and his parents had already discussed the 'problem' with Dr. Kenzie and were all agreed to try to convince Samantha to undergo an abortion. They went to the 'good doctor' because he was a specialist of partial birth abortions. He had told them himself that he had practiced thousands of them in his clinic. The advantage of this technique was that the risks were a minimum, even up to the ninth month of pregnancy. When he explained the procedure to them, Steve's mother felt faint and needed a glass of water.

"It's really very simple. I enter my hand into the vagina and up to the fetus. Then I pull it down and out by its feet, leaving only the head inside. The next step is to push a pair of blunt scissors along the back of its neck to the base of the skull. Once there, I push them inside to the brain and open them to enlarge the hole. Then it's just a matter of introducing a tube into the hole and vacuuming out the contents of the skull. It's quick, safe, and efficient. Believe me, I've had thousands of women undergo this procedure."

"But that sounds like killing!?"

Steve felt revolted. He was a medical student and knew the technique. But hearing it explained in such a matter-of-fact way, seemed cruel and like murder to him.

"Well, not really. The fetus is not born. You cannot kill something that has never been born."

They discussed the procedure, asked a few questions, and all agreed that this would be the best and safest action to follow. Steve and his parents consoled themselves on the way home by repeating the last phrase spoken by the doctor. They had scheduled an appointment for Samantha in two weeks.

"I am really getting big! Big momma!"

Samantha was looking at her profile in front of her mirror.

"Six down, three to go."

The two stowaways inside of her were now over twelve inches long. Their little thumbs were actively grasping now, and their inner ears were structurally capable of functioning. She really enjoyed feeling them moving around inside her and had fun feeling their reactions to the different types of music she played. Samantha was spending more time discovering her body than studying. She had to quit working a few days ago because she was just too tired.

"Hey Sam, I'm home. How'd it go today? Did you get any studying done? You have exams next week."

"Do you love me even if I'm fat?" She was standing before Steve, pulling her shirt tightly over her stomach.

"It's only temporary Sam. But I love you as you are, fat and ugly."

"I didn't say ugly!" She threw a cushion at him.

"Sam, tomorrow is your appointment with Dr. Kenzie."

"I know. I hope that he will have some good news for me. These two guys are really tiring me out. They never stop!"

"And what if there was only one Sam?"

"What are you talking about? What do you mean, only one?"

"Now don't hate me for this. Please try to understand my reasoning. I love you and want to marry you and be the father of our children. Sam, I'm just not ready for two children at once."

"What is that supposed to mean?! I have two here of me."

"Yes, I know that Sam and I have been considering all of the options that we have. I really could accept one child right now, but not two. I think that we could both handle one and finish our studies. I'm ready to make the effort."

"Are you suggesting that I get an abortion or something?! You want me to kill one of my babies? Is that it?!"

"Sam, I would like for you to really consider the big picture and our future. We can always have another child later. Please listen. All I ask is that you think it over objectively." "Is this some kind of blackmail or something that you are trying? You will marry me if I get rid of one of these two lives inside of me?"

"No, I love you and only want you to think of our future and our children's futures. We both need to graduate and start our careers. We will then be able to start a bigger family. Please think Sam, and try not to be too angry with me."

She did love him and wanted to marry him. And of course, she wanted nothing more than to become a doctor. Abortion had always been a taboo subject for her. Two children would really be a hardship if she wanted to finish college. What to do... She felt the 'stowaways' moving around and wondered if God would consider her a murderer if she aborted one of the two fetuses. Would it really killing if the fetus weren't born? Steve and Samantha discussed it long into the night. If they decided to have Doctor Kenzie take care of it during the last month, Samantha would not have to suffer the three to five days of placing the seaweed-type laminaria into the cervix to dilate it enough to perform the abortion. She would also not have to worry about the complications such as pain, possible infection, a perforated uterus, hemorrhaging and not to mention damage to the cervix which could keep her from having children in the future. Young as they were, they were not even thinking of the life long mental anguish that would come thereafter. Surprisingly Samantha began to accept the idea of keeping only one of the two 'stowaways'.

"Okay Samantha. You and them in are in excellent health." Doctor Kenzie didn't call them babies.

"It is very important that you stay strong and healthy, and you are doing an outstanding job of it. Samantha, since you are a medical student, I would like to discuss an option that you have concerning your pregnancy."

"Yes doctor, Steve told me that he had spoken with you. I'm ready to listen and maybe consider your option, if it is really safe."

"Oh yes, it is really safest. I'm glad that you have discussed this with him and your being a medical student will enable you to appreciate the technique with objectivity."

"Go on, doctor."

Samantha knew what was coming and really was surprised to even be in Dr. Kenzie's office. The doctor went through the partial birth abortion technique with her, being as gentle as possible describing each step, and emphasizing the fact that the fetus was not born.

"You can't kill something that hasn't been born."

These were always the words, which ended the consultations with the doctor.

"Doctor, I'll need much more time to think this all out and be sure about any future decision."

"Of course, Samantha. As you understand, time is really not an obstacle. We can always adapt."

"Doctor Kenzie, we will discuss this through very carefully and get back to you." Samantha left the office feeling guilty but with some reassurance.

The couple grew closer over the next few weeks. Of course Steve took every occasion to urge Samantha to consider keeping only one baby. Slowly, but surely, he seemed to be wearing her down and winning her over to his thinking. They were now both making plans for their wedding, which would take place after the babies' birth.

As the seventh month passed, the two stowaways taste have now been established. From now until term, fetal length increases from thirteen to twenty inches and their weight nearly triples. They are almost constantly moving, reacting to external sounds and to their mother's movements.

'Children, children. How you have grown!'

'Father, will we be leaving soon?'

'A little more patience. Enjoy the warmth and what you are feeling now. Soon, everything will change completely.'

'Then what will happen?'

'Many more changes will occur before you will be ready. Have fun enjoying floating inside your mother for now. You will miss this later on in your life.'

'Why Father?'

'Because you will no longer be as protected as you are now.'

Samantha was alone at home, studying and wondering what to say to her parents. It would break their hearts if they knew that she was considering an abortion. She hadn't mentioned, and wouldn't mention anything about it to them. Like Steve had said, they would never know if one baby was lost because of natural causes or abortion. Dr. Kenzie would explain away any complications causing the loss of one of the babies. She was sad about it and as a Christian knew in her heart that abortion wasn't right, but she loved her Steve and wanted marriage and to open a medical practice with him.

Samantha's eighth month was almost terminated. It was getting more and difficult for her to tie her shoelaces and fatigue arrived quicker throughout the day. Her little 'stowaways' development was almost completed. Their small lungs were maturing and they were practicing motions of breathing. She was now wondering what the baby would look like. Her mind was now made up to keep only one of the two. Marrying Steve and becoming a doctor were now the priorities in her life.

'Father, will we be leaving here soon?'

'Very soon, my children. Are you ready to discover your lives?'

'Oh yes, Father! How much longer?'

'Just a few more days now, my little ones. I will be with you all of the way.'

Samantha was lying on her back on the table in Doctor Kenzies's clinic. Steve was in the waiting room with his parents. Samantha's parents were flying in, but hadn't arrived yet. The doctor and his two nurses were preparing Samantha for the delivery, and of course for the other procedure.

'Father, what is happening now?'

'Do not be afraid, I am with you. You are about to discover the outside life!'

The delivery of the first baby went without complications. Samantha was brave and really didn't suffer too much. She was relieved and very content when she heard the baby crying. He was in excellent health.

'Father, what am I hearing?'

'That is your brother breathing for the first time.'

'Is he happy?'

'Very happy, little one.'

'Will I go now?'

'Yes, do not fear. I am here with you.'

'Thank you Father. Yahoo! At last!'

Dr. Kenzie was now entering his hand into Samantha, probing for the second baby. Once that he had positioned the fetus, as he called it, in the breech position, he started to pull it out by the feet. Samantha was holding her other baby in her arms now, almost oblivious to the pain and the doctor's hands.

The doctor delivered the baby's body and arms, everything but his little head. The baby's body was moving; his little fingers were clasping together. He was kicking his feet.

'Father! At last I am going to be with my mother and brother!

'I am with you son.'

Doctor Kenzie was now pushing down on the baby's shoulders with his left hand while touching the base of the skull with a pair of blunt scissors held in his right hand. He inserted the scissors into the back of the baby's head, and the baby's arms jerked out in a flinch, a startle reaction, like a baby does when he thinks that he might fall.

'FATHER!'

'I am here my son.'

'Father, I can see you now!'

'Welcome, my son.'

'Why am I not with my mother and brother?'

The doctor had opened up the scissors to enlarge the hole. He was now inserting the high-powered suction tube into the hole. The baby's body went completely limp as the brains were sucked out of the cavity. This whole operation took only a minute or two and didn't physically derange Samantha.

'Father, what is that?'

'That is your envelope my son. You will not need it now that you are here with me.'

They watched as the nurse put the dead baby into a plastic bag. The inconsiderate doctor had ripped off his umbilical cord and penis with it. The baby had been in excellent health up to the time of birth.

'Why did they do this to me?'

'Sometimes adults, even Christian adults, become influenced by evil and make mistakes.'

'My mother is evil, Father?'

'Oh no, my son. Your mother is not an evil person. She is young and loved you very much. Instead of turning to me, she became influenced by people who love her and thought that they were helping her.'

'But she made the choice.'

'Son, there will never be one minute, from now on, that passes in your mother's life, that she will not regret what has taken place today. Her suffering will be never-ending until she returns to me again.'

Copyright Terry L. Atchison Terry Atchison, Mount Vernon, IL. Four years in US Navy, including one year in Vietnam. After literally traveling the world, he returned home. Friends in France and Australia were inviting him to go work and live. He flipped a coin, heads/tails; ended up in the south of France for 27 1/2 years.

Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com-CHRISTIAN WRITERS

The Lord Came For Me

Oh Lord, you came
To rescue the lost, the lame
The others; they wonder how
But I wonder why

It’s not my style to give it voice
The question, about Your choice
After all, You are sovereign
And I, a lowly woman

But still, the question remained
So I did what others thought insane
I read Your Holy Word to find the reason
Sure I’d find the answer in due season

As for the mystery, I’ve discovered why
You came into this world and died
You, God who wore human skin
Did it to make me Your next of kin

You came and died to set me free
Simply because You love me
Now I’ll take You at Your Word
That my sins are covered

Knowing that when I leave
You’ll be there to receive
My soul that looked to you
And trusted in all You do


Copyright 2009 Sandra Purdue, A.K.A. The Bossy Church Lady. You can use whatever I write for whatever purposes as long as you don't take credit for what I've written.

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The Bossy Church Lady's Newsletter For New Christians 05-09-2009 "The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives." Psalm 37:23 (NLT) Warm Fuzzies Thank you to all of my subscribers, without you, the new Christian, this newsletter wouldn't exist. I would love to hear from you, but please do not hit reply to contact me because I won't receive your response. If you need to contact me you can email me at sandra @ thebossychurchlady.net (without the spaces in the address). I'd love to hear what you think! And, if you want to share something with the other readers in a future issue of this newsletter--such as a testimonial, or a poem, devotional, a story that God has inspired you to write, or even if you want to advertise your own site-- you can send it to me at sandra @ thebossychurchlady.net (without the spaces in the address). Your privacy is important to me; therefore, I will not sell, rent, or give your name or address to anyone. At any point, you can select the link at the bottom of every email to unsubscribe. If your e-mail program is blocking the pictures in this newsletter or if you would rather read this newsletter online, go to: http://www.thebossychurchlady.net/2009_03.html (The current newsletter is always at the top of the pages.) In This Issue ><> Learning to Walk with a Limp by Phil Pike ><> It’s All About Your Point Of View (2) by The Bossy Church Lady ><> Resources Learning to Walk with a Limp I have some pretty cool scars from my childhood days, and each one tells a story. The horizontal scar across my right knee reminds me of the day that, as a little boy, (I had to add that part so you didn't think I tried this last week)... I decided to swing as high as I possibly could on our neighbor's enormously long tire swing, then, at the highest point, jump out and open an umbrella. (Don't judge me. I saw it work once on the original Batman TV show.) My visions of floating safely to the ground ended abruptly as I slammed into a pile of gravel and split my kneecap in half. (That's why, to this day, I can't do the tango. Well, that and the fact that I just can't dance.) Yeah, I definitely remember that scar! The weird shaped scar on my left knee came from falling on a broken piece of glass in the field behind our house in South Africa. The one on my thumb is from when a utility knife slipped and gashed deep. My slightly crooked nose takes me back to the soccer match when I got my nose shattered in a nasty collision with another player. (By the way, Bryan, I still can't breathe properly. I know it's been more than 25 years, but I haven't completely given up the idea of a law suit. I would donate the money to a good cause... like getting myself a new nose that actually works! "I'm not bitter... I'm not bitter.") The scar on the back of my head reminds me of the time my bike hit a hole and stopped dead, throwing me over the handlebars, only to have the bike flip over on top of me, and a bolt sticking out of the back fender impaled itself into my head. I can still remember the look of terror on my mother's face when I went running into the house with my shirt completely soaked in blood. (Don't get the idea I was a difficult child. That's nonsense, no matter what my sister says.) When I think back on those days, it's amazing I'm still alive. No wonder I don't panic when I watch my son flying through the air off huge ramps on his skateboard. He's accumulating his own collection of scars, and each one of them will make his journey through life unique and memorable. (And they'll drain my life's savings on medical bills along the way. It's payback, in a not-so-funny sort of way.) But hey, that's part of the fun of having a son. And then there are the scars no one can see. The scars on my bones from multiple broken arms, multiple broken toes, a cracked wrist... and when the weather gets cold and rainy, I'm reminded of those hidden scars because those spots ache and throb as if to say, "Do you remember?' I do, indeed, remember. There is something strangely beautiful and wondrous about scars. If you've ever studied the body's healing process, you can't help but marvel at the mystery of it all. Scars are reminders of a hurt that took place, but scars are also reminders of healing that followed. God could have easily designed it so that wounds would heal leaving absolutely no trace of the pain, but the more you read the Bible, the more you realize that God doesn't work that way. God is pretty big on creating "mile markers" along the pathways of life. In the Old Testament, people who had encountered God in a significant way stopped wherever they were and built an altar. That sounds pretty odd to us, but basically they would stack a bunch of rocks up into a pile to serve as a reminder to everyone who passed by that God had met with them there. I can picture a family walking along a dusty road in Palestine, and after rounding a bend, the little girl looks up and says, "Daddy, look! Somebody made a big pile of rocks. What's that for?" And the father would have an opportunity to explain to his children that it was a marker someone built to remind them of their encounter with God. It's a shame, really, that our modern society doesn't have any similar practice of leaving visible markers along our paths to serve as reminders of an encounter with God. But we do have scars -- spiritual scars that each has a story to tell of a time when God touched us and left His mark on us. And the truth is, no one in history has ever had a genuine encounter with the God of heaven and walked away unchanged... unmarked... un-scarred. Sometimes the scars God leaves on us come from a wound in our heart that He healed with a gentle touch. Other times the scars are more severe, and cause us to walk with a limp for the rest of our lives, because God -- as our loving Shepherd -- had to break our leg in order to keep us from wandering away from the flock. I have both. A few nights ago I went back and read the story of Jacob again. You remember Jacob, right? He was a bad dude, a crafty guy, a deceiver. He conned his own brother out of his birthright, for crying out loud. That's cold. His brother, Esau, was ticked off, to say the least, and Jacob hightailed it out of town before his brother beat the tar out of him. But one night God intersected Jacob's path in what can only be described as a bizarre encounter which I can't even begin to fully explain. God, in some form that we don't really understand, actually wrestled with Jacob. And it was clear at this stage of Jacob's life of scheming and running, that he was finally ready to do business with God, because during this wrestling match, Jacob refused to let go until God "blessed" him. (A pretty gutsy request, I'd say, considering the life he'd led up to that point!) And in God's amazing love and grace, He did give Jacob a new start... in fact, He gave Jacob a new name -- Israel. (Ring any bells?) How crazy is that?! God took this deceiver, met him at his point of desperation, turned his life around, and then made him the father of a great nation! But, as I said before, no one encounters God and walks away unchanged... and Jacob was certainly no exception. During that strange wrestling match, God put His mark on Jacob -- scarred him, if you will. God touched Jacob's hip and caused him to walk with a limp. At the conclusion of that story, the Bible says that Jacob had seen God face to face and lived, and then it says, "The sun rose above Jacob, and he was limping because of his hip." Wow, what an amazing scene! Jacob, the deceiver, goes into an encounter with God -- arrogant, cocky, walking just fine on his own two feet... and he comes out with a new name, a new purpose, and a limp that will serve as a reminder to him every day for the rest of his life. I imagine there were not too many mornings from then on that Jacob got out of bed and started to walk across the room, and when he took that first step and felt his hip give way... his mind went back to that life-changing meeting with God... and he remembered! I'm sure there were days when having to walk with a limp was incredibly frustrating for Jacob -- a man who was used to being on the run. I'll bet he even asked God to fix it, just like the apostle Paul asked God to remove his "thorn in the flesh." I must be honest with you and tell you that I have some "scars" that I sometimes wish would go away. And yet, despite the fact that I've asked God to remove them, He sees a greater purpose in letting me keep them. It seems that God delights in using broken things... He uses broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to produce rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength, and broken lives to show forth His greatness. We see Peter weeping bitterly in his brokenness and then rising in greater power than ever before to lead the fledgling church into its greatest days. I guarantee you that Peter carried the scars of denying Jesus for the rest of his life, and I have no doubt that many a night Peter lay quietly in the darkness before falling asleep and mentally "ran his finger" across that scar, remembering with tears that painful moment... but also remembering with great joy how Jesus had so gently healed the scar and restored Peter to usefulness once again. What "scars" do you have in your life? What "limps" seem to be slowing you down and causing you frustration? Perhaps it's time you stopped trying to hide them. Perhaps it's time to stop feeling embarrassed by them. Maybe you need to forget about trying to fix them or make them go away... and instead, ask God to use those very things -- those weaknesses -- to show His strength through you. There's a good chance that God will use those things as "altars" along the pathway of your journey, and they will serve not only as reminders for you, but as a testimony to everyone else who passes by. Don't underestimate the power of scars. Don't underestimate the importance of learning to walk with a limp. They are blessings in disguise. The truth is that no one -- not a single one of us -- will ever truly understand what it means to walk with God and see our lives make an impact for Him until we have learned to walk with a limp. It's proof, you see -- proof that we've been with God, that we've wrestled with Him, and that we have not walked away unchanged. Every time you see one of your scars... every time you are reminded of your limp... take a moment to remember. Number yourself among the blessed ones who carry the marks of God, and rejoice in knowing that those scars are proof that He knows you by name, and that He has come close enough to touch you. 2 Corinthians 12:9, 10 -- But he (Jesus) said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. Phil Pike is pastor of LifePoint Church in Greenville SC, is married to his lifelong sweetheart, has two wonderful children who are the delight of his heart, and is deeply passionate about helping the church accomplish the mission of Jesus Christ in the world. (http://www.lifepointsc.org) Article Source: http://www.faithwriters.com-CHRISTIAN WRITERS It’s All About Your Point Of View (2) Looking back through the shadows of time For each mistake I made if I had a dime The simple truth is that when I reflect On my life oh it was such a wreck As I look back on my younger years I’d love to tell you that it wasn’t me As I look back on my history It really isn’t such a mystery Now that I know His plans for me I’ll try to tell you that I would have seen Oh if I’d have known the Lord I wouldn’t have walked in the world But it’s all about your point of view Retrospection seems the best way to see If I knew then what is plain to me There’d be no reason for forgiving me And if I knew then what is clear to me I wouldn’t have any victories As I gaze into my future Something I know for sure I won’t be doing it my way One other thing that I can say It’s never felt so good to be free With God walking next to me Copyright 2009 Sandra Purdue, A.K.A. 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