تم صيانة المنتدي*** لا تغير فى سياسه من سياسات المنتدى اكتب ما تريد لان هذا حقك فى الكتابه عبر عن نفسك هذه ارائك الشخصيه ونحن هنا لاظهارها
جارى تحميل صندوق البحث لمنتدى الاقباط

العودة   منتدي منظمة أقباط الولايات المتحدة > English Forum > Religious Dialogue Lobby
التّسجيل الأسئلة الشائعة التقويم جعل جميع المنتديات مقروءة

Religious Dialogue Lobby This lobby is used for Religious Dialogue

المشاركة في الموضوع
 
خيارات الموضوع طريقة العرض
  #1  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
Who Will Take The SON?

I received this story im my mail and I'd love to share it with you, I hope you will be as touched by it as I was:

A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their Collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art. When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.. About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art." The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really a great artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this." The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears. He thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture. "Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a ." The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected. The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase one for their collection. On the platform sat the painting of the son. The auctioneer pounded his gavel. "We will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid for this picture?" There was silence. Then a voice in the back of the room shouted: "We want to see the famous paintings. Skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted, "Will someone bid for this painting? Who will start the bidding? $100, $200?" Another voice shouted angrily, "We didn't come to see this painting. We came to see the Van Goghs, the Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!" But still the auctioneer continued, "The son! The son! Who'll take the son?" Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime gardener of the man and his son. "I'll give $10 for the painting." Being a poor man, it was all he could afford. "We have $10, who will bid $20?" the auctioneer continued. "Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters." "$10 is the bid, won't someone bid $20?" asked the auctioneer. The crowd was becoming angry. They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel. "Going once, twice, SOLD for $10!" A man sitting on the second row shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!" The auctioneer laid down his gavel, "I'm sorry, the auction is over." What about the paintings?", "I am sorry. When I was called to conduct this auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. ! I was not allowed to reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate, including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!"
God gave his Son 2,000 years ago to die on a cruel cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is, "The Son, the Son, who'll take the Son?" Because, you see, whoever takes the Son gets everything.
Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the Evidence of things not seen. Heb 11:1
الرد مع إقتباس
  #2  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
I am glad you liked it Star, and here is another one:

BEST FRIENDS
In a small farming town in Oklahoma, there lived a poor young boy named Andy who followed the same route to and from school everyday. He had to cross some rugged terrain and a dangerous highway where vehicles recklessly drove to and fro. The boy would take this shortcut each school day, giving him time to slip into church, just to say "Hi" to Jesus, and faithfully say his morning prayers. The pastor of the church found Andy's sincerity and innocence quite uplifting, however, watching Andy cross the busy highway gave the pastor cause for concern. "Andy," he advised, "please do not cross that highway alone anymore. From now on, you can pass through the Church and then I will accompany you across the road. That way I can see that you get across safely." "Thank you Pastor. I like to come in and say "Hi" to my best friend, Jesus!" The pastor would leave the boy to spend time praying by himself beside the altar, but he often overheard what the boy had to say. "My math exam was pretty bad today, but you know I didn't cheat--even though my classmate had his answers right there for me to see!" "Dad's had a bad farming season so far this year but I thank you for the food you always provide for us!" "Thanks for showing me that poor kitten who was hungry! Mom let me give it some milk." Some people say we'll have a really hard season, and some of my classmates have even had to stop going to school to help with their farms .. Please help them get to school again, please, Jesus?" "I hope you forgive Dad for hitting me again. It really doesn't hurt that much and at least I still have a Dad ... so many of my buddies don't." "I know you can heal everything so please help Dad... he's tired and he worries a lot about putting food on our table and all, that's why he gets upset and drinks too much sometimes." I know you think I'm in love with that pretty new girl in my class, Anita ... do you think she likes me? Anyway, at least I know you will always like me, no matter what. I don't have to be anybody special to please you, you're my best friend!" "Hey, your birthday is just one week from today! Aren't you excited? I am! Wait till you see the I have for you ... it's a surprise! I hope you'll like it! Oooops, it's time to go... "After he talked to Jesus, he always stood up and called out, "Pastor, I'm finished talking to my best friend ... do you want to go with me to the other side of the road now?" This routine took place every school day. Andy never failed to visit the church. Pastor Thompson had never before seen such pure faith and trust in God and such a sweet, positive outlook under such negative circumstances. The day before Christmas, Pastor Thompson became ill and was taken to the hospital. The church was left to a substitute Pastor who had little patience for interruptions. He didn't smile and he always found fault in what other people were doing. On Christmas Day, he was in the Pastor's study when Andy playfully dashed into the church calling out, "Hi, Jesus, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!" "What are you doing bursting in here, boy!" the pastor yelled out angrily. Poor Andy was terrified. "Wh-where's Pastor Thompson? He always helps me cross the street...I'm sorry, I just came in to say hi to Jesus--it's His birthday, I have a right here for him and..." Just as he was about to get the out of his shirt, the pastor grabbed Andy by the shoulder and pushed him toward the door of the church. "I can't be bothered with foolishness right now -- I am preparing my sermon for the Christmas service tonight. From now on, you'd better be more reverent when you enter this church!!" the man yelled as he slammed the door behind Andy. The boy tearfully began to make his way across the road in front of the church by himself. As he crossed the centerline, a fast moving bus swerved around the blind curve. .
The boy was busy protecting the special inside his shirt and there was no time to run. He never knew what hit him--Andy died immediately from the impact. As people crowded around the crumpled body of the lifeless young boy, a tall man appeared. He was wearing a pure white shirt and had a face so kind and gentle with loving, dark eyes that were filled with tears. He stooped down and lifted the boy easily. He cried as he carried the boy away from the curious crowd. Bystanders nudged the man in white and asked, "Excuse me, sir, are you related to the child? Do you know him?". The man in white whispered, "This child was one of my best friends." he looked fondly at the poorly wrapped sticking out from the shirt of the lifeless boy, and it touched his heart. He smiled as he carried the boy away and they both disappeared from sight. On New Years Eve, when Pastor Thompson returned home from the hospital, he heard the shocking news. He called Andy's parents to ask them about the man in white he had been told about. "How did you find out about Andy?" "A man brought him here," sobbed the mother. "What did he say?" The father answered thoughtfully, "He didn't really say anything. He was quite somber and seemed devastated by Andy's death, as if he knew our son very well. There was something so peaceful about him, though. He brought Andy to us and prayed with us before he left." Andy's Mom said, "He rubbed my son's hair away from his face and kissed him on his forehead, then he whispered, "Thank you for the , Andy... you will be with me..." and the father of the boy continued, And you know, it felt so wonderful ... I can't explain it ... I tried, but I didn't feel sad, I don't know ... I guess they were tears of joy .. When that man was here, something peaceful came over me, I felt a deep sense of love inside... I couldn't explain the joy in my heart ... I just knew my boy was in heaven ... but, tell me, who was that man that my son talked to everyday in your church ... you had to know ... you were there...". Pastor Thompson felt the tears welling in his eyes, and with trembling lips, he murmured, He talked to his best friend
الرد مع إقتباس
  #3  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
First I would like to thank you both Star and Little One for the nickname for the nickname
I am sorry if the first nickname is a bit difficult but that too has a long story

As for whether the story is true or not, I am not really sure but if you look around you will see that the Lord proclaims himself in our lives in so many ways that make these stories sound very true.

Here is the latest one and this time I am sure you will like it

Angels In The Alley

Diane, a young Christian university student, was home for the summer. She had gone to visit some friends one evening and the time passed quickly as each shared their various experiences of the past year. She ended up staying longer than she had planned and had to walk home alone. But she wasn't afraid because it was a small town and she lived only a few blocks away.

As she walked along under the tall elm trees, Diane asked "God" to keep her safe from harm and danger. When she reached the alley, which was a short cut to her house, she decided to take it. However, halfway down the alley she noticed a man standing at the end as though he were waiting for her. She became uneasy and began to pray, asking for "God's" protection.

Instantly a comforting feeling of quietness and security wrapped around her, she felt as though someone was walking with her. When she reached the end of the alley, she walked right past the man and arrived home safely.

The following day, she read in the paper that a young girl had been raped in the same alley, just twenty minutes after she had been there. Feeling overwhelmed by this tragedy and the fact that it could have been her, she began to weep. Thanking the Lord for her
safety and to help this young woman, she decided to go to the police station. She felt she could recognize the man, so she told them her story.

The police asked her if she would be willing to look at a lineup to see if she could identify him. She agreed and immediately pointed out the man she had seen in the alley the night before.

When the man was told he had been identified, he immediately broke down and confessed. The officer thanked Diane for her bravery and asked if their was anything they could do for her, she asked if they would ask the man one question. Diane was curious as to why he had not attacked her. When the policeman asked him, he answered,
"Because she wasn't alone. She had two tall men walking on either side of her."

Moral of the story? Don't underestimate the "Power of Prayer".

الرد مع إقتباس
  #4  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
am sorry it took me so long, but as you were asking if I knew the stories were true I thought I will bring you this fully documented miracle
THE MIRACLE OF "ROSE" :


One day in February 1995, a few days after the feast day of St. Paul the Anchorite (Anba Paula the first hermit), Rose (not her real name) discovered a lump in her breast. She saw a surgeon who took a biopsy of the lump. The result was very tragic, it was found to be malignant.
Rose, who works as a pathologist and a member of the teaching staff of the University of Western Ontario Medical School in London, Ontario reviewed the slides made from the tumor with the rest of the members of the Department of Pathology, including the head of the Department. The verdict was : definite malignancy. In relating the story to me she told me, "Abouna, not only is it malignant, but the kind of malignancy is such that it would kill within one year." I believed her, for she ought to know. A dark veil fell upon the whole family. Rose's husband broke down, the children aged 9, 11, and 13 were devastated. Rose tried to put on a brave face, but seeing the condition of her husband and children, she too broke down.
One time she came from outside unnoticed by the children, to find them kneeling with tears in their eyes, sobbing and pleading: "Please God, don't take our mom from us." She went into her room, locked the door and cried her heart out. She repeatedly told me, "I don't mind going to be with Christ, but I feel sorry for my husband and the children."
Rose prayed a lot, but in the end she surrendered her fate to God and accepted God's will. One time, sitting in the living room of their house in London, she confided in me, "When I'm gone, please help Adel (not her husband's real name) find a suitable wife. He cannot cope with the children alone."
I fought very hard to conceal the tears in my eyes by pretending to look at the wall across from me, It was then that I noticed an icon of St. Paul the Anchorite, in whose name the Coptic Church in London is registered. "Where is your faith Rose?" I said. "This is your Saint (pointing to the Icon) ask him to perform a miracle." I then added, "Let us make a deal with him, if he would cure you, then you would buy the furnishings of the Sanctuary and Altar of the Church we will buy or build in his name." I then added jokingly, "And if he doesn't cure you then we should change the name of this church to St. Mena's!" That conversation took place on the eve of the operation to remove her breast.
On the morning of the operation, Rose was very calm. She was even joking with every one around her. She had faith that God, through the prayers of St Paul the Anchorite, can cure her. She also had hope that He will cure her. Most importantly, she had completely surrendered her will to the will of God.
On the operating table, her last words to the surgeon before being put to sleep were these, "The slides look very bad, but there is still room for a miracle."
Under anesthesia, the surgeon re-examined the lump. He was surprised to find that it had shrunk in size. It was also freely moving in the breast and not fixed. As usual, he opened the breast, removed the lump, sent it to the Lab for confirmation of the diagnosis, and waited.
We were waiting outside, her husb, myself and a few friends of the family. Suddenly, the head of the department of Pathology, a sweet elderly lady, rushed into the waiting room with a perplexed look on her face, "I can't understand it! It is not malignant. But… how can this be, I was very careful looking at the slides before the operation. How on ..." Seconds later, the surgeon joined us, still in his operating gown, with his surgical mask hanging around his neck and he is screaming, "It's a miracle .. it's a miracle. She asked for a miracle and she got one! I have never seen anything like this in my life."
It was total confusion, a dozen people talking in the same time, some were screaming, some were ing, every body was hugging the person next to him, sobbing and laughing at the same time.
After the pandemonium settled down, we all sat down trying to absorb what was happening. Word came that she could go home in a couple of hours. The husband rushed to bring the children from their schools in order to take Mom home. The same Mom they entreated God not to take away from them.
For one week after the operation, every Pathologist around reviewed the slides (before and after the operation) trying to find any mistake in the initial diagnosis, but there were none. Grudgingly and reluctantly they had to admit it, "It is a miracle !"
The congregation of the Church of Saint Paul the Anchorite in London had no problem accepting this. Saint Paul is their Saint, and time after time, they all had experienced their own little miracles that he performed among them.
One thing became clear to them: the time had come to have a church building dedicated to that great Saint. A place where people can come and light a taper in front of his icon. Where people in distress can come seeking his prayers and intercessions. And where they can come later paying their vows and venerating this great Athlete of the Lord
Jesus Christ.
Glory be to God who has given His saints the s of healing and doing wonders, and praised be His Saint Anba Paul the Anchorite.

"Praise God in all His Saints."

الرد مع إقتباس
  #5  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
And here is the second documented miracle:

Hesham (his real name) came to Canada from Egypt a year ago. He is a pharmacist, married with two children, a member of the congregation of ST. Mary's Church in Kitchener.
To obtain his license in Pharmacy, Hesham had to write several exams, all of which he passed except for the English Proficiency exams, which he repeatedly flunked. The passing grade was 75% (225 out of 300), but he never even came close to that.
To make things worse, the college changed the rules, making the passing grade 80% ! He fell into despair. "If I couldn't make it even to 65%, how can I get 80% ?"

The miracle of Rose was still fresh in our minds, so I told him, "Why don't you ask ST. Paula for help?" I then added, "Make a little vow to him, if you pass your exam, you would buy a silver set of Altar Vessels for his church in London." He agreed.
A week later, he came to me after church. He was so dejected. He told me that he did so badly on the exam, that he does'nt believe that he will score even 50%. Not only that, but the exam now had an oral part to it, in which he had to listen to recorded questions and record his answers.
It was this part that worried him most. "I didn't understand half the questions and I was saying anything to the recorder !" In answer, I told him, "I'm glad that you didn't do well!" So surprised, he asked, "Why?" I said, "Because if you pass now, you will know for sure that it is ST. Paula's prayers that did it for you !"
A few days later, he phoned me. He was so excited. "I passed with full marks 300 / 300 !" "Are you sure?" I asked him. "Yes" He answered. "I have the papers to prove it .. and I already got my License. Even the girl who gave me the license told me I have never heard of any body scoring 100% in this exam !"
The problem is that Hesham now speaks only in English !
A few days ago, he came to me complaining that his friends make fun of him, "Zey don't bileev zat I gut sree handred in bronanciation !" "Neither do I Hesham, habibi !" I said. It is probably ST. Paula's voice on that recording machine.
Hesham started looking for a job, asking for ST. Paula's help. He got a job on his first interview. He told me that the guy who interviewed him told him, "You speak very good English !" then he added "The guy was Chineese !" Guess where Hesham got his Job? Of course, in London Ontario, where else?
الرد مع إقتباس
  #6  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
Our dear brother El Nesr has reminded me of a great saint "Francis of Assissi" and here is a story that shows how he used to communicate with animals

Perhaps the most famous story of St. Francis is when he tamed the wolf that was terrorizing the people of Gubbio. While Francis was staying in that town he learned of a wolf so ravenous that it was not only killing and eating animals, but people, too. The people took up arms and went after it, but those who encountered the wolf perished at its sharp teeth. Villagers became afraid to leave the city walls.

Francis had pity on the people and decided to go out and meet the wolf. He was desperately warned by the people, but he insisted that God would take care of him. A brave friar and several peasants accompanied Francis outside the city gate. But soon the peasants lost heart and said they would go no farther.

Francis and his companion began to walk on. Suddenly the wolf, jaws agape, charged out of the woods at the couple. Francis made the Sign of the Cross toward it. The power of God caused the wolf to slow down and to close its mouth.

Then Francis called out to the creature: “Come to me, Brother Wolf. In the name of Christ, I order you not to hurt anyone.” At that moment the wolf lowered its head and lay down at St. Francis’ feet, meek as a lamb.

St. Francis explained to the wolf that he had been terrorizing the people, killing not only animals, but humans who are made in the image of God. “Brother Wolf,” said Francis, “I want to make peace between you and the people of Gubbio. They will harm you no more and you must no longer harm them. All past crimes are to be forgiven.”

The wolf showed its assent by moving its body and nodding its head. Then to the absolute surprise of the gathering crowd, Francis asked the wolf to make a pledge. As St. Francis extended his hand to receive the pledge, so the wolf extended its front paw and placed it into the saint’s hand. Then Francis commanded the wolf to follow him into town to make a peace pact with the townspeople. The wolf meekly followed St. Francis.

By the time they got to the town square, everyone was there to witness the miracle. With the wolf at his side, Francis gave the town a sermon on the wondrous and fearful love of God, calling them to repent from all their sins. Then he offered the townspeople peace, on behalf of the wolf. The townspeople promised in a loud voice to feed the wolf. Then Francis asked the wolf if he would live in peace under those terms. He bowed his head and twisted his body in a way that convinced everyone he accepted the pact. Then once again the wolf placed its paw in Francis’ hand as a sign of the pact.

From that day on the people kept the pact they had made. The wolf lived for two years among the townspeople, going from door to door for food. It hurt no one and no one hurt it. Even the dogs did not bark at it. When the wolf finally died of old age, the people of Gubbio were sad. The wolf’s peaceful ways had been a living reminder to them of the wonders, patience, virtues and holiness of St. Francis. It had been a living symbol of the power and providence of the living God.
الرد مع إقتباس
  #7  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
Here is a new story guys, I hope you like it as well.

Two traveling angels stopped to spend the night in the home of a wealthy family. The family was rude and refused to let the angels stay in the mansion's guest room. Instead the angels were given a small space in the cold basement. As they made their bed on the hard floor, the older angel saw a hole in the wall and repaired it. When the younger angel asked why, the older angel replied, "Things aren't always what they seem."
The next night the pair came to rest at the house of a very poor, but very hospitable farmer and his wife. After sharing what little food they had the couple let the angels sleep in their bed where they could have a good night's rest. When the sun came up the next morning the angels found the farmer and his wife in tears. Their only cow, whose milk had been their sole income, lay dead in the field. The younger angel was infuriated and asked the older angel how could you have let this happen? The first man had everything, yet you helped him. The second family had little but was willing to share everything, and you let the cow die.
"Things aren't always what they seem," the older angel replied. "When we stayed in the basement of the mansion, I noticed there was gold stored in that hole in the wall. Since the owner was so obsessed with greed and unwilling to share his good fortune, I sealed the wall so he wouldn't find it." "Then last night as we slept in the farmers bed, the angel of death came for his wife. I gave him the cow instead.
"Things aren't always what they seem." Sometimes that is exactly what happens when things don't turn out the way they should.
IF YOU HAVE FAITH, YOU JUST NEED TO TRUST THAT EVERY OUTCOME IS ALWAYS TO YOUR ADVANTAGE.
You just might not know it until some time later...
الرد مع إقتباس
  #8  
قديم 11-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
The Price Of A Miracle

Sally was eight years old when she heard Mommy and Daddy
talking about her little brother, Georgi.He was very sick
and they had done everything they could afford to save his life.
Only a very expensive surgery could help him now and that was
out the financial question. She heard Daddy say with a whispered
desperation,"Only a miracle can save him now."

Sally went to her bedroom and pulled her piggy bank from its
hiding place in the closet. She shook all the change out on
the floor and counted it carefully. Three times... The total had
to be exactly perfect... No chance here for mistakes...
Tying the coins up in a kerchief, she slipped out of the
apartment and made her way to the corner drug store.

She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her attention,
but he was too busy talking to another man to be bothered by
an eight year old. Sally twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise...
She cleared her throat... No good... Finally she took a quarter
from its hiding place and banged it on the glass counter.
That did it!!

"And what do you want?", the pharmacist asked in an annoyed
tone of voice. "I was talking to my brother."

"Well, I want to talk to you about my brother," Sally answered back in the same annoyed tone. "HE'S SICK.... AND I WANT TO BUY A MIRACLE."

"I beg your pardon," said the pharmacist.

"My Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. How much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I can't help you."

Sally replied "Listen, I have the money to pay for it... Just tell me how much it costs."

The other man, a well-dressed man, stooped down and asked, "What kind of a miracle does you brother need?"

"I don't know," Sally answered... A tear started down her cheek... "I just know he's really sick, and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my folks can't pay for it, so I have my money."

"How much money do you have?" asked the well-dressed man.

"A dollar and eleven cents," Sally answered proudly..."And it's all the money I have in the world..."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the well-dressed man. A dollar
and eleven cents... The exact price of a miracle to save a little
brother. He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her mitten and said, "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents."

That well-dressed man was Dr. Carlton Armstrong, renowned surgeon, specializing in solving Georgi's Malady. The operation was completed without charge and it wasn't long until Georgi was home again and doing well...Mommy and Daddy
were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them
to this place. "That surgery...,"Mommy whispered, "It's like a miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost? "

Sally smiled to herself...

She knew exactly how much a miracle cost... One dollar and eleven cents... Plus the faith of a little child.
الرد مع إقتباس
  #9  
قديم 24-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
EMPTY CHAIR
A man's daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I guess you were expecting me," he said.
"No, who are you?"
"I'm the new associate at your local church," the pastor replied. "When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up."
"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.
"I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head.."
"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here's what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I'll be with you always.' Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you're doing with me right now."
"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm."
The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon.
"Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked.
"Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange--kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed."



الرد مع إقتباس
  #10  
قديم 24-05-2003
koukikou koukikou غير متصل
Registered User
 
تاريخ التّسجيل: Mar 2003
المشاركات: 288
koukikou is on a distinguished road
EMPTY CHAIR
A man's daughter had asked the local pastor to come and pray with her father. When the pastor arrived, he found the man lying in bed with his head propped up on two pillows and an empty chair beside his bed. The priest assumed that the old fellow had been informed of his visit. "I guess you were expecting me," he said.
"No, who are you?"
"I'm the new associate at your local church," the pastor replied. "When I saw the empty chair, I figured you knew I was going to show up."
"Oh yeah, the chair," said the bedridden man. "Would you mind closing the door?"
Puzzled, the pastor shut the door.
"I've never told anyone this, not even my daughter," said the man. "But all of my life I have never known how to pray. At church I used to hear the pastor talk about prayer, but it always went right over my head.."
"I abandoned any attempt at prayer," the old man continued, "until one day about four years ago my best friend said to me, 'Joe, prayer is just a simple matter of having a conversation with Jesus. Here's what I suggest. Sit down on a chair, place an empty chair in front of you, and in faith see Jesus on the chair. It's not spooky because he promised, 'I'll be with you always.' Then just speak to him and listen in the same way you're doing with me right now."
"So, I tried it and I've liked it so much that I do it a couple of hours every day. I'm careful, though. If my daughter saw me talking to an empty chair, she'd either have a nervous breakdown or send me off to the funny farm."
The pastor was deeply moved by the story and encouraged the old guy to continue on the journey. Then he prayed with him, and returned to the church.
Two nights later the daughter called to tell the pastor that her daddy had died that afternoon.
"Did he seem to die in peace?" he asked.
"Yes, when I left the house around two o'clock, he called me over to his bedside, told me one of his corny jokes, and kissed me on the cheek. When I got back from the store an hour later, I found him dead. But there was something strange, In fact, beyond strange--kinda weird. Apparently, just before Daddy died, he leaned over and rested his head on a chair beside the bed."



الرد مع إقتباس
المشاركة في الموضوع


عدد الأعضاء الذي يتصفحون هذا الموضوع : 1 (0 عضو و 1 ضيف)
 
خيارات الموضوع
طريقة العرض

قوانين المشاركة
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is متاح
كود [IMG] متاح
كود HTML غير متاح

الإنتقال السريع


جميع الأوقات بتوقيت امريكا. الساعة الآن » 02:46 PM.


Powered by: vBulletin Version 3.8.6
Copyright ©2000 - 2019, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.

تـعـريب » منتدي الاقباط