The Spirit-and-Flesh.com Blog

God’s Word cuts right through all profession of faith, stripping away that which is merely natural from that which is truly spiritual.

A person may weep at the Lord’s Table or shout his hallelujahs at the testimony meeting; however, his emotions may be carnal just as easily as spiritual. God’s Word divides between the soul and the spirit. A man may have a thorough grasp of Bible truth and be a walking encyclopedia of scriptural knowledge and yet not be spiritual. A person may have a strong will and determine that he is never going to indulge again in a questionable habit and carry out his resolve, but that does not prove him spiritual.

It is only the Word of God, brought to bear upon the issues of life, which can reveal what is carnal and what is spiritual. It is a “discerner” (4:12), a critic of the thoughts and intents of the heart. As we read the Word of God, it probes into the inner recesses of our beings and explores all our motives.

It also exposes all mankind. “Neither is there any creature that is not manifest in his sight: but all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do” (4:13). The word opened literally means “to have the throat exposed” as when, for example, an athlete would seize his opponent and bend back his neck. It pictures a throat exposed to the slash of a sword. What an illustration of man’s total exposure and vulnerability to God and His Word!

So, then, the writer of Hebrews again confronts his readers with Christ. He is preeminent, able to do what neither Moses nor Joshua could do: bring His people into genuine rest because He is a superior Savior and because the provisions of salvation available through Calvary are superior to anything found in the Old Testament.

In view of this, it is imperative that we make sure of our salvation, lest we be found to be mere professors of Christianity. We must take to heart the example of the Israelites who, although saved and separated from Egypt and all that this meant typically, never entered into Canaan and thus missed God’s rest. God expects His people to avail themselves of all He has for them in Christ. And how can a person be sure of his salvation? By exposing his heart to the piercing sword of God’s Word, for sooner or later, that sword will find him out if he is a mere pretender.

Dr. John Phillips

An old boy was fumblin’ around one day
In a women’s clothing store
He’d found his wife a Christmas coat
And was headed for the door

When he bumped into a little boy
That looked like he was lost
And he said “Mister can you help me
Find out how much something costs?

Here it is almost Christmas
And the nights are gettin cold
Winter time is on us
And my mom don’t have a coat

I’ve been workin for the neighbors
And saving for a time”
And in his tiny outstretched hand
Was a dollar and a dime

His gaze went from that big eyed boy
To that pretty Christmas coat
And he finally cleared away the lump
That had gathered in his throat

He said “Son that’s just what this coat costs
We’re lucky that we found ‘er”
And he turned around and gave a wink
To the lady at the counter

She put it in a pretty box
And wrapped it up just so
And went off in the back
And found a big red Christmas bow

He said “I thank you for your help sir
And I kindly thank you ma’am
I hope y’all are gonna have a big Christmas
Cause now I know I am”

Well the old boy walked home busted
Except for the dollar and the dime
Thinkin he’d just have to buy
The coat another time

He told his wife that Christmas this year
Wouldn’t be much fun
And he gently took her in his arms
And told her what he’d done

She said “ why you old softie
I wouldn’t trade you for a farm
I’ve got two or three old coats
And your love to keep me warm “

She put that money in a matchbox
And placed it beneath their tree
And said “that is the grandest gift
You’ve ever given me”

The years went by like years will do
When people are in love
Their marriage was a golden bond
That was forged by God above

Then one day came some bitter news
That filled his heart with fright
The doctor told the old man’s wife
That she was going to lose her sight

He said “there’s an operation we can do
But it puts me on the spot
Cause it’s a quite complex procedure
And it’s going to cost a lot”

The old man said “doctor I’m a failure
I’ve made no preparation
We don’t have the money
For that kind of an operation “

The doctor got the strangest look
And he sat there for a while
And then he slowly nodded
And he broke out in a smile

He said “ why sir you can’t fool me
You’re a very wealthy man
You long ago invested
In the world’s best savings plan

I’ll see she gets the best of care
She’s going to be just fine
And the total cost to you old friend
Is a dollar and a dime”

The old man stared in disbelief
Then he recognized that smile
The one he’d seen those years ago
On a loving thoughtful child

He said “what you gave to me that day
Was more than just a coat
You gave me the gift of giving
And you gave my mother hope

My mother’d been mistreated
Neglected and abused
But she gave life just one more chance
And it was all because of you

Now every year she takes that coat
And lays it beneath our tree
It represents to us the things
That Christmas ought to be

She says that when we leave this world
For a better home someday
The only things that we’ll take with us
Are the things we gave away.

What does Love mean to 4-8 year old kids?

Slow down for a few minutes to read this…💕

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, ‘What does love mean?’ The answers they got were broader, deeper, and more profound than anyone could have ever imagined!

‘When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn’t bend over and paint her toenails anymore… So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That’s love.’ Rebecca - age 8

‘When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth.’ Billy - age 4

‘Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other.’ Karl - age 5

‘Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs.’ Chrissy - age 6

‘Love is what makes you smile when you’re tired.’ Terri - age 4

‘Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK.’ Danny - age 8

‘Love is what’s in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and just listen.’ Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)

‘If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate.’ Nikka - age 6

(we need a few million more Nikka’s on this planet) ‘Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it every day.’ Noelle - age 7

‘Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well.’ Tommy - age 6

‘During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn’t scared anymore.’ Cindy - age 8

‘My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don’t see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night.’ Clare - age 6

‘Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken.’ Elaine - age 5

‘Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford.’ Chris - age 7

‘Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day.’ Mary Ann - age 4

‘I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones.’ Lauren - age 4

‘When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you.’ (what an image!) Karen - age 7

‘You really shouldn’t say ‘I love you’ unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget.’ Jessica - age 8

And the final one: The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman’s yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, ‘Nothing, I just helped him cry.

And then go be a child again today!………

I asked a friend who has crossed 70 & is heading towards 80 what sort of changes he is feeling in himself? He sent me the following:

1. After loving my parents, my siblings, my spouse, my children and my friends, I have now started loving myself.

2. I have realized that I am not “Atlas”. The world does not rest on my shoulders.

3. I have stopped bargaining with vegetable & fruit vendors. A few pennies more is not going to break me, but it might help the poor fellow save for his daughter’s school fees.

4. I leave my waitress a big tip. The extra money might bring a smile to her face. She is toiling much harder for a living than I am.

5. I stopped telling the elderly that they’ve already told that story many times. The story makes them walk down memory lane & relive their past.

6. I have learned not to correct people even when I know they are wrong. The onus of making everyone perfect is not on me. Peace is more precious than perfection.

7. I give compliments freely & generously. Compliments are a mood enhancer not only for the recipient, but also for me. And a small tip for the recipient of a compliment, never, NEVER turn it down, just say “Thank You.”

8. I have learned not to bother about a crease or a spot on my shirt. Personality speaks louder than appearances.

9. I walk away from people who don’t value me. They might not know my worth, but I do.

10. I remain cool when someone plays dirty to outrun me in the rat race. I am not a rat & neither am I in any race.

11. I am learning not to be embarrassed by my emotions. It’s my emotions that make me human.

12. I have learned that it’s better to drop the ego than to break a relationship. My ego will keep me aloof, whereas with relationships, I will never be alone.

13. I have learned to live each day as if it’s the last. After all, it might be the last.

14. I am doing what makes me happy. I am responsible for my happiness, and I owe it to myself. Happiness is a choice. You can be happy at any time, just choose to be!

Why do we have to wait to be 60 or 70 or 80, why can’t we practice this at any stage and age?

“Watch out! You nearly broad sided that car!” My father yelled at me. “Can’t you do anything right?”

Those words hurt worse than blows. I turned my head toward the elderly man in the seat beside me, daring me to challenge him. A lump rose in my throat as I averted my eyes. I wasn’t prepared for another battle.

“I saw the car, Dad. Please don’t yell at me when I’m driving.”

My voice was measured and steady, sounding far calmer than I really felt.

Dad glared at me, then turned away and settled back. At home I left Dad in front of the television and went outside to collect my thoughts…. dark, heavy clouds hung in the air with a promise of rain. The rumble of distant thunder seemed to echo my inner turmoil. What could I do about him?

Dad had been a lumberjack in Washington and Oregon .. He had enjoyed being outdoors and had reveled in pitting his strength against the forces of nature. He had entered grueling lumberjack competitions, and had placed often. The shelves in his house were filled with trophies that attested to his prowess.

The years marched on relentlessly. The first time he couldn’t lift a heavy log, he joked about it; but later that same day I saw him outside alone, straining to lift it. He became irritable whenever anyone teased him about his advancing age, or when he couldn’t do something he had done as a younger man.

Four days after his sixty-seventh birthday, he had a heart attack. An ambulance sped him to the hospital while a paramedic administered CPR to keep blood and oxygen flowing.

At the hospital, Dad was rushed into an operating room. He was lucky; he survived. But something inside Dad died. His zest for life was gone. He obstinately refused to follow doctor’s orders. Suggestions and offers of help were turned aside with sarcasm and insults. The number of visitors thinned, then finally stopped altogether. Dad was left alone.

My husband, Dick, and I asked Dad to come live with us on our small farm. We hoped the fresh air and rustic atmosphere would help him adjust.

Within a week after he moved in, I regretted the invitation. It seemed nothing was satisfactory. He criticized everything I did. I became frustrated and moody. Soon I was taking my pent-up anger out on Dick. We began to bicker and argue.

Alarmed, Dick sought out our pastor and explained the situation. The clergyman set up weekly counseling appointments for us. At the close of each session he prayed, asking God to soothe Dad’s troubled mind.

But the months wore on and God was silent. Something had to be done and it was up to me to do it.

The next day I sat down with the phone book and methodically called each of the mental health clinics listed in the Yellow Pages. I explained my problem to each of the sympathetic voices that answered in vain.

Just when I was giving up hope, one of the voices suddenly exclaimed, “I just read something that might help you! Let me go get the article…”

I listened as she read. The article described a remarkable study done at a nursing home. All of the patients were under treatment for chronic depression. Yet their attitudes had improved dramatically when they were given responsibility for a dog.

I drove to the animal shelter that afternoon. After I filled out a questionnaire, a uniformed officer led me to the kennels. The odor of disinfectant stung my nostrils as I moved down the row of pens. Each contained five to seven dogs. Long-haired dogs, curly-haired dogs, black dogs, spotted dogs all jumped up, trying to reach me.

I studied each one but rejected one after the other for various reasons: too big, too small, too much hair. As I neared the last pen a dog in the shadows of the far corner struggled to his feet, walked to the front of the run and sat down. It was a pointer, one of the dog world’s aristocrats. But this was a caricature of the breed.

Years had etched his face and muzzle with shades of gray. His hip bones jutted out in lopsided triangles. But it was his eyes that caught and held my attention. Calm and clear, they beheld me unwaveringly.

I pointed to the dog. “Can you tell me about him?” The officer looked, then shook his head in puzzlement. “He’s a funny one. Appeared out of nowhere and sat in front of the gate. We brought him in, figuring someone would be right down to claim him. That was two weeks ago and we’ve heard nothing. His time is up tomorrow.” He gestured helplessly.

As the words sank in I turned to the man in horror. “You mean you’re going to kill him?”

“Ma’am,” he said gently, “that’s our policy. We don’t have room for every unclaimed dog.”

I looked at the pointer again. The calm brown eyes awaited my decision. “I’ll take him,” I said. I drove home with the dog on the front seat beside me. When I reached the house I honked the horn twice. I was helping my prize out of the car when Dad shuffled onto the front porch. “Ta-da! Look what I got for you, Dad!” I said excitedly.

Dad looked, then wrinkled his face in disgust. “If I had wanted a dog I would have gotten one. And I would have picked out a better specimen than that bag of bones. Keep it! I don’t want it” Dad waved his arm scornfully and turned back toward the house.

Anger rose inside me. It squeezed together my throat muscles and pounded into my temples. “You’d better get used to him, Dad. He’s staying!”

Dad ignored me. “Did you hear me, Dad?” I screamed. At those words Dad whirled angrily, his hands clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowed and blazing with hate. We stood glaring at each other like duelists, when suddenly the pointer pulled free from my grasp. He wobbled toward my dad and sat down in front of him. Then slowly, carefully, he raised his paw…

Dad’s lower jaw trembled as he stared at the uplifted paw. Confusion replaced the anger in his eyes. The pointer waited patiently. Then Dad was on his knees hugging the animal.

It was the beginning of a warm and intimate friendship. Dad named the pointer Cheyenne . Together he and Cheyenne explored the community. They spent long hours walking down dusty lanes. They spent reflective moments on the banks of streams, angling for tasty trout. They even started to attend Sunday services together, Dad sitting in a pew and Cheyenne lying quietly at is feet.

Dad and Cheyenne were inseparable throughout the next three years. Dad ’s bitterness faded, and he and Cheyenne made many friends. Then late one night I was startled to feel Cheyenne ’s cold nose burrowing through our bed covers. He had never before come into our bedroom at night. I woke Dick, put on my robe and ran into my father’s room. Dad lay in his bed, his face serene. But his spirit had left quietly sometime during the night.

Two days later my shock and grief deepened when I discovered Cheyenne lying dead beside Dad’s bed. I wrapped his still form in the rag rug he had slept on. As Dick and I buried him near a favorite fishing hole, I silently thanked the dog for the help he had given me in restoring Dad’s peace of mind.

The morning of Dad’s funeral dawned overcast and dreary. This day looks like the way I feel, I thought, as I walked down the aisle to the pews reserved for family. I was surprised to see the many friends Dad and Cheyenne had made filling the church. The pastor began his eulogy. It was a tribute to both Dad and the dog who had changed his life.

And then the pastor turned to Hebrews 13:2. “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it.”

“I’ve often thanked God for sending that angel,” he said.

For me, the past dropped into place, completing a puzzle that I had not seen before: the sympathetic voice that had just read the right article… Cheyenne ’s unexpected appearance at the animal shelter… his calm acceptance and complete devotion to my father… and the proximity of their deaths. And suddenly I understood. I knew that God had answered my prayers after all.

Life is too short for drama or petty things, so laugh hard, love truly and forgive quickly. Live while you are alive. Forgive now those who made you cry. You might not get a second chance.

And if you don’t send this to anyone — no one will know. But do share this with someone. Lost time can never be found.

God answers our prayers in His time… not ours…

God doesn’t give us what we can handle, He helps us handle (stands with us, and gets us thru) what we are given. In other words, God’s Grace keeps Pace with what we Face!!

Aren’t you glad you read this to the end ?? Please say “Yes” if you did ♥️

—–2 Corinthians 12:9