God's Sparrow Messenger

Wikipedia file: Tree Sparrow

This is a true story about a little sparrow and what happened in the fall of 1961.
I was driving north from Birmingham, Alabama, for Hoover Motor Express enroute to Louisville, Kentucky.

Just south of Scottsville, Kentucky, a severe rain and wind storm developed. The threatening clouds were heavy and black. All the other drivers put their lights on, even though it was in the middle of the day. The asphalt highway was very slick.............

When You Fall Down . . .

     There I was, dancing on stage in the Philippines to the majestic sounds of music as the Holy Spirit led me. Worshiping God, whether dancing or prayer, I always close my eyes. Twirling a lavender scarf as I danced, I suddenly got "that feeling" to open my eyes to see where I was.

     One more step and I would have fallen off the stage! But God was watching over me. Calmly, I turned, closed my eyes again in worship, and continued dancing.  

     Next the unthinkable happened! One second I was dancing in worship, the next second I was sitting on the stage floor thinking, "What happened?! This has never happened before!"
     With nothing on stage to hinder or trip me, I had fallen!

From Joy to Joy

From Joy to Joy

by

Bob TenHaken

as told to Emily King

“Why am I here?” 

The question nagged and confused me as it would anyone who knew me at the time. I loved teaching! I enjoyed the challenges and opportunities in teaching 8^th grade math. But for the first time in my 13-year career, I felt out of place in my own classroom. I had a strange feeling of being unprepared and ill-equipped to handle classes for the year.  

Previously at a retreat, my wife, Shirley and I separately felt led to offer our availability to do whatever God wanted. That evening, we invited our pastor and his wife to our small-group meeting.  However, no one else showed up. The pastor seized the opportunity to ask: “Bob, have you ever considered full time Christian work?” Shirley and I sat stunned. We related our experience at the retreat.

Carrie's Angel

     When my sister drove my five-year-old daughter home from her first day at a new Christian school, Carrie ran in the door and hurried to find me in the kitchen.
     "Mommy!" she said excitedly. "I saw an angel today in chapel."
     I smiled. "You did? Was there a picture of an angel on the wall?"
     Carrie shook her head. "No, the angel was up on the stage, in the front of the chapel."
     Puzzled, I asked, "Are you sure you didn't see a picture of an angel?"
     "No, Mommy. The angel was standing right there in front of me---just like Mr. Jeffries was standing there."

Unseen Power

    It was a long journey from the home of our missionary parents to our boarding school in Columbia. First, my sister and I got on a cargo plane with no seats. We were sitting on sacks of rice and beans when, suddenly, the plane rolled and dipped. Finally, the copilot came back to get us, and he strapped us in with him and the pilot up in the cockpit.
     When we landed in a little airport, we got to look at the belly of the plane—it had been riddled with bullets!
     The pilots got us transferred to a pick-up truck to take us the rest of the trip over the mountain. The treacherous, one-lane road was lined with cliffs and chasms on both sides of the road.
     Whenever we came to a curve on the hillside, the driver would honk the horn loudly to find out if anyone was coming from the other side.

No Trash Cans or Dumps In Heaven

Have you ever smelled a dumpster being dumped into a garbage truck on a hot day? The scent of rotten garbage reminds me of thrown-out unwanted junk. What, you may ask, does that have to do with Heaven? Everything.

I was born after my parents already had two boys and they had decided they did not want any more children. My early years were full of abuse and rejection from my parents, my brothers, and even boarders who rented a room in our house.

On birthdays and Christmas and Easter I usually received a present from my parents. But sadly, any little mistake I made brought down their harsh judgment. My parents would break my present and throw it in a special trash can in my room. I was forbidden to touch it. There it would sit for a week or so to remind me I was not wanted either.

Never too Late!

     We left Portland on June 3rd and are presently living here at our son's house in northern New Mexico while we wait for a rental in Nashville, Tennessee, to open up. It's been very difficult finding a rental since we don't have sufficient guaranteed monthly income.
     On the last day we had together with our granddaughter before her parents drove to San Francisco to work for 8 months, five-year-old Ava had begged to go fishing with David (her grandpa).
     Well, we finally found a reel and line in their storage unit, but no fishing pole. Also we realized it would take too much time to drive 45 minutes into town and get a license for one day.
     So we decided to take Ava to the resort of Red River, NM, about a half an hour's drive away. We rode up the mountain ski lift with her and when we got back down, we saw a little stream nearby where a father and teenage son were fishing.
     We walked over to watch the two as they cast out their lines. The water was so clear. You could see a number of fish swimming around in it.
     I started praying, "Dear Lord, please let a fish bite the lure so Ava can at least watch it get reeled in."