
First dish

Second dish

Third dish onward too busy eating. Hehe.










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Serve Him NOT His temple
Seek God, NOT abilities
Love God, NOT responsibilities
God values your attitudes, NOT capabilities
I almost hadn't come to the class at church that night. With four kids and a full-time teaching job, I had plenty to do.
But my 11-year-old son, Brady, was having surgery the next day. I hated to think of him alone in the operating room. I'd been praying for weeks, asking God to be with Brady and his doctors during surgery, but it didn't feel like enough.
Standing in the doorway of the church hall I couldn't believe how many people had showed up for this class. It looked like more than a hundred were seated at the tables scattered throughout the hall-but not a familiar face among them.
No one I can ask to pray with me for Brady. I sat down at a table next to a dark-haired man, but the instructor immediately asked us to move.
"Let's fill in all these vacant chairs up front," she said. The dark-haired man got up to look for another seat. I crossed the room to an empty chair. But just as I got there, someone else took it. I spotted another chair at the next table. The same thing happened again. And again.
I did not come here for a game of musical chairs, I thought as I made a beeline for another chair. I flung myself into it and turned to see...the same dark-haired man I'd left behind.
"We meet again," he said as the instructor stood to speak.
"Tonight I thought we'd talk about our lives outside of church," she said. "Everybody share with the people at your table how you work your faith into your daily life."
The dark-haired man said, "I'm an anesthesiologist. Before I put a patient under, I pray for him. I ask each patient if they'd like to pray too. I used to be embarrassed about this..."
"I think it's wonderful!" I interrupted. "My son is having surgery tomorrow. I'd feel so much better if his doctor could pray with him."
"Where is his surgery?" he asked.
I mentioned the hospital. "Dr. Duplechain is doing the operation."
"Then I can assure you that your son will be surrounded by prayer," he said, "because I'm the one scheduled to be taking him into the operating room."
In a room full of strangers, God had seated me - twice! - next to the one man who could pray with me tonight and my son in the morning.
This story first appeared in Guideposts magazine.
"Why does the thrill of soaring
have to begin
with the fear of falling?"
Click the URL to view the movie: http://www.eaglesneedapush.com/By Melissa Deal Forth
Atlanta, Georgia
Six years after we were married, my 29-year-old husband was fighting leukemia. Pain dulled Chris's blue eyes; he was barely able to move without help. Doctors offered little hope, and for months I slept on a cot alongside his bed at the M. D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston.
At 3 a.m. one morning, I was shaken awake by an alarmed nurse. "We can't find Chris!" she exclaimed. My eyes darted to his bed. The sheet was turned back; the bed empty. How...?
I jumped up and raced past the nurses' station outside the room, then ran down the hall. As I passed the glass-paneled chapel door, I glimpsed Chris sitting inside with someone. I burst in, crying, "Chris, we were so worried...."
He turned and smiled. "I'm fine," he said. I stared at the young man who sat with him. His skin was smooth and clear, and he had short white hair. He wore exactly the type of clothes Chris liked: checked flannel shirt, crisp Levi's and lace-up work boots.
The young man looked up at me and my heart caught. As I stared into his crystal-blue eyes, I felt stunned. Chris broke the spell. "Melissa, please leave us," he asked. "I'm OK. I'll be back."
After reporting Chris's whereabouts (no one else in that security-tight hospital had seen his visitor), I went back to our room. About 30 minutes later Chris returned exhilarated, merrily rolling his IV pole-walking on his own! And he didn't look sick anymore. "Who was that man?" I gasped, not sure what to ask first.
"You'll never believe it," he grinned. "It was an angel-my guardian angel."
Chris sat down on the bed. "I awoke with an overpowering urge to go to the chapel," he explained, "and I was able to walk there easily. As I knelt at the cross I heard a voice behind me, and I turned to find him standing there. He asked if there was anything I wanted to be forgiven for.
"I've always hated my stepfather. The angel said I was forgiven, and you know, for the first time, the hatred I had harbored for so long was truly gone. Then I told him I was worried about leaving you. He said you would be fine, that all my prayers were answered."
The next day with Chris was unbelievable. He ate well and visited patients on our floor, buoying their spirits. I thought he was healed.
Two days later Chris died. But in a very real sense I know that he had been healed-healed of fear and pain, ready to go on to new life.


Yesterday night, i am very tired..about 9pm+ i fall asleep at my parents room. about 11+, I walk back to my room rest awhile, went to kitchen to wash up. just when i about to go toilet at my parents room, i didn't realise that my mum was sleeping at the floor... there was no light too... i trip over my mum and fall down...
"...The seed that fell among the thorns represents those who hear God's word,