Please ask yourself this question – Is God pro-life? Absolutely! There is no doubt about it. God’s Word is unmistakable. “Thou shall not kill” is one of the Ten Commandments. “I have set before you life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore choose life, that both you and your seed may live” (Deuteronomy 30:19). God is the Creator and sustainer of life.

Once, while discussing the abortion issue with a politician, the remark was made that abortion is a moral issue. I concurred. But is not the law of our land and Judeo-Christian ethics based on the concept of a moral God and moral code?

It’s been said that blood is thicker than water. It’s natural and normal for families to stick together and care for one another. Even though there may be disagreements, imperfections, and family issues that all families contend with, there is an inherent quality that says, “Blood is thicker than water.” Jesus stated that, “Any kingdom divided against itself is laid waste and any city or house divided against itself shall not stand” (Matthew 12:25 NASB). Strong, loving families living in peace and unity are vital for the health and happiness of society and the individual. The Psalmist declared “God sets the lonely in families, he leads forth the prisoners with singing; but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land” (Psalm 68:9).

Business savvy people keep their eyes and ears open for inside information. Investors may value certain information that could give them leverage or a leg up in making a good profit with a timely investment or business deal.

A few years ago I had a friend who had a friend who had a cousin who had a nephew who worked for a large grocery chain. His friend’s cousin had some inside information that the price of coffee was going to increase dramatically because of the weather and weevils in the coffee bean crop of Brazil.

All true believers want their faith to increase. “Without faith it is impossible to please God” (Hebrews 11:6). We cannot receive anything from God without faith. The benefits of the cross come to us only by faith in Christ. The power of the resurrection can only be appropriated by faith. (Philippians 3:10)

One of the apostles of faith was Smith Wigglesworth. In his classic book Ever Increasing Faith it is quite evident that a key to Wigglesworth’s radical faith and miraculous works was his radical obedience to God. Faith increases as we are obedient.

My grandmother made a journey in a covered wagon from Kansas City back to Illinois when she was a baby. During the westward expansion of America, her parents, like so many other pioneers, endured many hardships and dangers along the trail. Their dream and hope of free land and a new start in the west spurred them on. Some proclaimed their determination to cross the formidable Rocky Mountains with placards on their wagons. One such sign read, “Pike’s Peak or Bust!”

Like the pilgrims and pioneers of early America, multitudes throughout the centuries have traveled with hope and determination toward a new and eternal promised land called “Heaven”. There are many obstacles, dangers, and enemies to discourage and deter weary pilgrims from reaching heaven’s shore. But the hope and assurance of heaven spurs them on.

Have you ever had a dream that seemed lost and dashed to pieces on the rocks of disaster or disappointment? Take heart. Many great men and women have had such experiences. But they believed that good things come to those who wait. They learned valuable lessons in God’s waiting room that could not be learned anywhere else.

Abraham was 100 years old before the promised child Isaac was born. Joseph, the dreamer, was sold into slavery by his brothers, unjustly accused of rape by Potiphar’s wife, and thrown into prison for 13 years before seeing his God given dream become a reality.

I didn’t receive a lot of spankings as a child. But I believe I remember every one I got from my dad. One particular one is very vivid in my memory. I enjoyed throwing a baseball, bouncing it off the front porch steps, and catching it. My dad told me not to do it. Why not? What would it hurt? Besides how would I ever break into the major leagues if I didn’t practice?

Shortly after my dad’s warning, I was once again bouncing the ball off the front steps. The ball took a wicked hop and went crashing through the bedroom window where my dad just happened to be resting.

Larry King was recently interviewed on “The Today Show” concerning his recently published book Remember Me When I’m Gone. The world famous radio and television personality asked the talented, the beautiful, the wise, and the rich a question all of us have pondered to some degree, “How would you like to be remembered after you die?”

The contributions range from one-liners by Yogi Berra – “It’s over.”; Kato Kaelin – “I guess my 15 minutes are up!”; Jack Lemmon- “In.”; Calvin Klein – “By eternity.”; Gene Shalit – “I won’t be back after this message.”;

A harried housewife hurried through the crowded store with her whining children in tow. The ringing bells of the Salvation Army grated on her nerves. The press of jostling people vying for the season’s most prized doll wearied her. Finally, reaching the checkout counter, she unloaded her items and exclaimed, “Whoever came up with Christmas anyway?”

Businesses wish their customers a “Happy Holiday”, yet many are not happy. For many the holidays are a time of tiredness, loneliness, depression, or disappointment. How can we prepare to have a happy holiday? Consider some safeguards that will help you enjoy the upcoming holidays.

“Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow? With silver bells and cockle shells and pretty maids all in a row.”

Most people today don’t consider the moral of a nursery rhyme. But how does your garden grow? I love the beauty of a well kept garden. But a garden requires diligence and work. Perhaps Mary was too contrary to put forth the effort to keep her garden. Man was created and put in the original Garden of Eden to “dress” and keep it. It was in a garden that Jesus agonized in prayer as he surrendered to God the Father’s will.

As a child, no one had difficulty picking Roger Loomis out of his family’s photos. He was the one with the big head. From infancy, through adolescence, his head grew disproportionately with the rest of his body.

Classmates would sneak up from behind, hit him on the back of his head and yell, “Fathead!” He laughed on the outside, but inside the nickname cut like a knife.

Years of ridicule and abuse could have set Roger off in a rage, sending him on a shooting spree, taking his anger out on whoever happened to cross his path. Perhaps he could have simply withdrawn from society, or dropped out of life through suicide or drugs or alcohol.

What a beautiful morning to soak up the sun and enjoy God’s wonderful creation. As I sat in our backyard swing I was fascinated as I watched hummingbirds feast at the nectar feeders suspended from our patio roof. As I pondered the particular problems we were going through, they seemed to take flight as God reminded me of the unique creation of even the smallest bird. The hummingbirds are able to hover in space as their little wings beat up and down in a whirl like miniature helicopters. God feeds them and directs their yearly migration.

I sat in the courtroom on a wooden pew surrounded by rich wood paneled walls. As I looked toward the judge’s bench at the front of the courtroom, the bailiff commanded all to rise and announced the entrance of the Honorable Judge Slater, as court was called into session.

I felt admiration and respect for the judge as he was referred to as “your honor” when addressed. Did “his honor” have respect because of his title, family name, money, or social/class standing? Probably not. “His honor” had been a classmate of mine and, on occasion, we had even driven livestock into the showering of his grandfather’s sale barn. While being a man of good moral character, “his honor” was shown respect, even by his enemies, because he represented the law of the land.

I enjoy finding hidden treasure at garage sales. One man’s junk can be another man’s treasure. I especially delight in finding old classic books at low prices. Some may call me cheap, but I detest paying $20 -$30 for a book when I can find one I value for $2 - $4. I’ve been thrilled at the find of first edition books by Charles Dickens, a Moby Dick, a Ben Hur, books by Andrew Murray, or A Treasury of David by Spurgeon that was headed to the dump.

Have you felt like giving up lately? Here’s hope for you – our great and mighty God loves you and has a way out. Hang on! Don’t give up hope.

We live in a world of trouble, terror, and trials. Since the sin and fall of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden, the serpent of old has engendered strife and stress, fear and failure, depression and destruction. Jesus told us, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they might have life and might have it more abundantly” (John 10:10).

It was the most painful and stressful period in my adult life. It was a wilderness experience, “the dark night of the soul”.

The story is told of a man who fell over a cliff. As he plunged downward he was fortunate enough to grab hold of a protruding tree limb. He held on for dear life but was quickly losing his strength. “Help me! Is anybody up there?” he called out. After what seemed to be an eternity a voice called down, “Just let go of the branch. You’ll be saved.” “Help me!” the man cried. Unbeknownst to the man, the tree limb was only a few feet above a ledge with a path that would lead him to safety. “Trust me, just let go and you’ll be okay,” the voice called back. The man hesitated, “Is anybody else up there?”

For many October 31st is a time for fun and games. It’s a time for pranks and parties, for trick or treating, a time of dressing in costumes of ghouls, ghosts, and goblins, devils and Dracula’s, or witches and warlocks. Some view it as the highest unholy night and worship Satan. Some think of it as simply silly superstitions. But the devil is real and hell is real, hot, and horrible.

Because hell is such a terrible place, Jesus taught about it and warned of the awful consequences for those who go there.

It’s been said that music is the language of soul. Music is definitely the language of heaven. Some have told of hearing heavenly music on their deathbed, even though those around them do not hear anything. I believe God welcomes His children home with heavenly music. “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His godly ones” (Psalm 116:15 NASB).

Our creator is a God of music and we were made in His image, so it stands to reason that man has been given music to express what’s in his soul.

As I drove over the Jefferson Barracks Bridge back into Illinois, I was in awe as I took in the row after row of white grave markers that seemed to flow up and down the green hillside of Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery. How many thousands of soldiers lie under the sod of the cemeteries of America, those who served our country, to protect and insure our freedom? Our hats go off to you.

This Memorial Day many will flock to the lakes, beaches, and parks on holiday. Many people will have no thought of those who served to safeguard our freedom.

“RSVP”, the letter said. After 35 years, I wondered how many would be at my high school reunion. Already many of my former classmates have died or moved far away from our old hometown. Even though the scheduled date is not a convenient time for me, it would be interesting to go just to see whom I would recognize and remember. But I just couldn’t show up on a whim, I have to make a reservation.

Many wedding invitations include RSVP. One would be foolish and very disappointed if he simply showed up at an airline and expect to buy a ticket and immediately board an airplane.

I love holidays and holy days. We need both to help us keep life exciting and in perspective. Times of sacred inspiration and of hilarious celebration give needed contrast to life. A few days ago I took a look at our wall calendar in anticipation of our next holiday. Guess what it is? Your right – it’s February 2nd – Groundhog Day.

We can learn some lessons from Groundhog Day. Someone once asked me “Does God have a sense of humor?” “Well look around you,” I replied, “Look at all of God’s creatures both great and small.” Some are so comical that only the grinch could refrain from laughing.

Have you ever considered some of the varied and peculiar greetings that people give? How are you supposed to answer some of them? Have you ever been greeted with some of these salutations? “Whaz up?” “Whaz up, dog?” How’s ya do’n?” “What’s new?” Whatever happened to plain old “Hello”? Granted “Hello” could have a dozen different meanings, depending on the rising and falling of the intonation pattern and the prolongation of the first or last vowel. I guess that’s why some of my ancestors were exiled from England when they gave the wrong “Hello” to the king and queen.

My grandpa was a coal miner. I imagine he did it to support his farm and nine children. I still remember his carbide lamp and multi-layered dinner bucket. Some of my uncles, and many of the men in the Pana area where I was born, worked deep underground in the coal mines. Recently, at my Uncle Bob’s funeral, I talked to my Uncle Steve who had retired from coal mining. “Coal mining get’s in your blood,” he said. “I’ve seen some amazing things down there.”

Little Gracie has her theology right. It was a beautiful fall day and interestingly it was Yom Kippur – the Jewish Day of Atonement. As I stood outside the Release Through Jesus’ ministry office fellowshipping with friends, Jim Helton’s 2½ year old granddaughter came walking down the sidewalk towards us with her arms raised heavenward. She seemed to be saying, “Okay, who’s going to pick me up? I need some love and attention.” Her grandma, of course, picked her up and gave her what she needed.

Grandma’s light bread would melt in your mouth. In the 1950’s, rural electric had not yet reached our part of the countryside. As kerosene lamps gave a golden glow in the kitchen, I’d watch grandma mix and kneed the bread dough, put it in pans, and then set them aside to rise overnight. At daybreak she would fire up the wood cook stove and bake the bread until the top crust was shining and golden. I could hardly wait for a couple of slices of grandma’s light bread spread with home churned butter and, perhaps, a spoon of wild comb honey or a dollop of blackberry jelly. Those were the days when bread was bread.