Happy new year

Hey! It's a new year.





Well it is still a very young new year don't you think, and everyone deserves to be wished a happy new year.





I've been away for so long and know my readers and fans will be wondering why. But It's so so good to be back and kicking too.

2008 was a challenging year for most, i pause to remember the good things that happened during the past year and am looking hopefully to the future, by the will of God, it will bring us the best.

cheers .

Ember Months !!!

The ember months are here again (i.e. September, October, November and December). Thanks be to the Lord because to me, these are months of remembrance. God has already started remembering me for Good. And it will continue thus.

In this part of the world people attribute several kinds of atrocities and evil to these months. But the wise sage says that life and death are in the power of the tongue, so what I say concerning my life and destiny in these months is my choice because so shall it be.

It is going to be great!! I just wish all of you out there the best. Remember to key in to the attitude that these months are months of God’s remembrance of you for good and so shall it be.

Cheers

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." (Jeremiah 29:11)

A view of Heaven

This morning, I just read this story and it really got me, in fact I was broken and sober. You know most times, we tend to forget who we really are and what we are suppose to be going on planet earth. I mean the really important things that are suppose to be part of our daily lives are most times chocked and crowded away by flimsy excuses, unimportant and worthless things and ventures all in the name of living life. God help us.

The original author is Josh Harris. Read the story. I hope it helps you ponder and take a decision about your life hereafter.

Please Consider it!

A Teenager's View of Heaven

17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the bomb. It's the best thing I ever wrote.." It also was the last.

Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven.. I know I'll see him."

Brian's Essay: The Room...

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at ." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even 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 "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it.. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. 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. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me.. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. 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 file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant 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 its door. There were still cards to be written.

THE LOST GOAT

This morning after reading the story of the lost sheep, I was considering the “Lost Goat”. Well you know that story about the lost sheep; the sheep actually gets all the publicity. What about the goat. I know, no one wants to tell a happy ending story about a goat, because we all know how stupid a goat can be, but wait I know of a goat that was not that stupid, in fact, that goat was a wise goat, I dear say that that particular goat was wiser than some lost human sheep because, it sort for and returned to its owner.

It was my grand mother’s goat. It got lost when my grand ma took it to cross breed in a neighboring village, the contact who was suppose to let my grandmother’s goat cross breed with her he-goat let the two goat out of sight, maybe assuming that they should get to know each other before they get down to business lol., I wonder what she was thinking anyway maybe a little goat romance, he he he.

Well, it didn’t work that way because my grand mother’s goat took off at the slightest opportunity, and escaped, maybe the she-goat did not like that romantic arrangement and all that stuff, so it took off, wondered and wondered around and got properly lost for a whole week in another village, miles away from my grand ma’s village

All the while, my grand ma was thinking that her goat was doing well cross breeding without any stress since there was no news from the contact. Not to be, because the contact had to come and ask my grand ma, if the she-goat has reached home at last.

After the huge quarrel between my grand ma and her contact, the true search for the goat began. But the goat was not found. Trust my grand ma, to lament and send SOS to all her children in which ever city they were residing, about her precious little she-goat, oh, now lost!

The goat wondered and wondered around and on a very fine day, as told by my grand ma, she was sitting in front of her house with a neighbor’s nine year old child, who always pulls staunch at my grand ma about the lost goat, sometimes she will shout out, “mma mma see, is that not your lost goat coming back” My grand ma will hurriedly run out only to see someone else’s goat or no goat at all. And she will pick a stick and chase the child round the compound. Classical isn’t it.

But on this day, the child said the same thing, and my grand ma said that there was a catch in her voice which made her to respond and come out to see for herself the goat in question, and to her surprise there was actually, a dirty, rough looking she-goat, coming from the entrance of the long road that leads to her compound. The goat will stop, look around, turn back as if to go the other way, but will turn back again in to my grand ma’s

road leading to her compound. By this time my grand ma’ heart was palpitating, and she was whispering to her self and the child, Ah it might be my goat oh, but she is so lean and dirty, come, come goat , is it really you ? just then, she ran into her kitchen, bring out a dry fish and calls out to the goat the way she normally does, and the goat , when it heard its name, came wobbling to my grand ma’s side, not to take the fish, but to sniff my grand ma’s legs and wrapper as a dog would do, it did that for like two to three minutes and after satisfying itself, that this was actually its owner, it then sat down on the floor beside my grand ma and bleat. Off course my grand ma could not contain her tears of joy and she let them flow freely. Her lost goat found her.

Thank you, great blogging community .

This is a thank you post to all the bloggers who visited my site and took time out to drop comment concerning the S.O. S of my dear friend who had challenges with her little toddlers.

This has shown that some bloggers in the blogging community are truly their “brother’s keepers”.

I appreciate the following bloggers for their concern and comment:

Wind Mill of www.windmillofmymind.com

Del of Music Through Time , Artists and Music, As The World Turns.

Lady Rose of Entrecard Cookbook (not just recipes), Stir The Cauldron, Diet Pulpit , Entrecard Favorites, 2 Witches Blog, Enchanted Cauldron

I personally printed each comment, with the exception of the comment from dodgegravity . That is because I don’t understand his comment.

I personally took the printed comments to my friend to read it herself and be rest assured, and also to implement some of the advice and wait for positive results.

Thank you once again.

MY FRIEND NEEDS URGENT HELP

A friend of mine is experiencing the following dilemma. I am a novice as far as motherhood is concern (both of us belong to the same motherhood category), so I decided to use my blog to help her cry out for help. She is urgently in need of advice and is getting desperate.

My friend is a mother of two little boys. One is seven months plus, while the elder one is 2 years plus. For privacy sake, I will call the first one Tom while I call the little one Jerry (I don’t mean to be mischievous, but that’s what I can think of for now). The little Jerry currently crawls on this kneels and hand, he holds settee and tables and chairs to stand up.

The challenge is with the elder boy, Tom, he grabs Jerry each time he sees him standing with the aid of the sofa, tables and chairs. Initially their mother thought it was because he has not seen his brother standing before and that he was fascinated by the act and does not want the brother to fall down. But that seems not to be the case because recently Tom does not allow Jerry to stand with the aid of anything; He will run to where Jerry is standing and drag him down, making the baby to fall to the ground.

The one that bothers their mother most is that Tom will not allow Jerry to hold any toy whatsoever, he will pull it from his hands, and make Jerry cry, that is bad enough, but you are yet to hear the worst. Of recent, Tom has formed the habit of jumping on Jerry from the sofa and chairs in the house irrespective of the posture Jerry may be in, whether he is standing, sitting, lying down or squatting!

In a day Jerry is made to fall several times because of the Tom. Their mother is at a loss of what to do since Tom cannot communicate well yet. Their mother can only engage him in baby talk, and that seems to be sufficient in communicating to him the danger he poses to his sibling. Someone with experience should kindly share from experience how this kind of issue can be handle.

I am currently searching forums for possible answers to this dilemma because my friend is really getting worried and no one around her seems to have had a similar experience.

Can this be true?

Satan called a worldwide convention of demons.

In his opening address he said,

"We can't keep Christians from going to church."

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

"We can't even keep them from forming an intimate relationship with their savior."

"Once they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken."

"So let them go to their churches; let them have their covered dish dinners, BUT steal their time, so they don't have time to develop a relationship with Jesus Christ.."

"This is what I want you to do," said the devil:

"Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day!"

"How shall we do this?" his demons shouted.

"Keep them busy in the non-essentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds," he answered.

"Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, and borrow, borrow, borrow."

"Persuade the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work 6-7 days each week, 10-12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyles."

"Keep them from spending time with their children."

"As their families fragment, soon, their homes will offer no escape from the pressures of work!"

"Over-stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still, small voice."

"Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive." To keep the TV, VCR, CDs and their PCs going constantly in their home and see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays non-biblical music constantly."

"This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ."

"Fill the coffee tables with magazines and newspapers."

"Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day."

"Invade their driving moments with billboards."

"Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, mail order catalogs, sweepstakes, and every kind of newsletter and promotional offering free products, services and false hopes.."

"Keep skinny, beautiful models on the magazines and TV so their husbands will believe that outward beauty is what's important, and they'll become dissatisfied with their wives. "

"Keep the wives too tired to love their husbands at night."

"Give them headaches too! "

"If they don't give their husbands the love they need, they will begin to look elsewhere."

"That will fragment their families quickly!"

"Give them Santa Claus to distract them from teaching their children the real meaning of Christmas."

"Give them an Easter bunny so they won't talk about his resurrection and power over sin and death."

"Even in their recreation, let them be excessive."

"Have them return from their recreation exhausted."

"Keep them too busy to go out in nature and reflect on God's creation. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, plays, concerts, and movies instead."

"Keep them busy, busy, busy!"

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

"Crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek power from Jesus."

"Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family for the good of the cause."

"It will work!"

"It will work!"

It was quite a plan!

The demons went eagerly to their assignments causing Christians everywhere to get busier and more rushed, going here and there.

Having little time for their God or their families.

Having no time to tell others about the power of Jesus to change lives.

I guess the question is, has the devil been successful in his schemes?

You be the judge!!!!!

Does "BUSY" mean: B-eing U-nder S-atan's Y-oke?

(this is not mine, i stumbled on it and want you to take a look!!!)