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NOTES  FROM  THE  VALLEY - MEMORIAL DAY 2000

"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of
death, I will fear no evil for you are with me."  Psalm 23.
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TOPIC:  IN  REMEMBRANCE

God is love.  Everything He does is motivated by love.   And, as amazing as
it may seem, God really loves the company of His kids.  Writing "Notes" is
just something He started so He and I could spend more time together.  Every
week about this time, we have an appointment.  I can't write Notes without
Him and He won't write Notes without me (He could, but He chooses not too.)
So we meet at my computer and spend some time together.  I'm constantly
amazed by the results.  He's probably started some things with you for the
same reason.

Today the topic was Memorial Day and the often repeated question was,
"Father, what do you want to say this time?"   These pages are His response.
As you read them and any "Notes" in the future, please follow the advise in
I Thessalonians 5:21 to, "Test everything.  Hold onto the good."  What
"good" you find in these "Notes" comes from God.   He's the author.  I'm
just the very lucky child who gets to help Him.

Memorial Day.  For many it means a long weekend, picnics and parades, and
the running of the Indianapolis 500.  According to Webster's Dictionary, a
memorial is something designed or established to serve as a remembrance of a
person or an event.  Memorial Day is in fact, an American holiday,
designated for remembering and honoring dead servicemen. Those men and women
who paid the ultimate price, giving up their lives, so we could enjoy the
freedoms we have today.  Freedom of choice; freedom from tyranny and
oppression.  By now, you're probably beginning to see the parallel between
those heroic men and women and our Savior, Jesus Christ.  Here's how God
revealed that parallel to me.

You were created to be God's child.  He walked with your ancestors, His
children - Adam and Eve, in the Garden of Eden.  He spent quality, close,
personal time with them until sin required Him to separate from them.  As
the result of their sin, we all became captives to the law of sin and death,
oppressed by the devil and separated from God.

Jesus said He came to serve mankind (a SERVICE man) and not to be served
(Mark 10:45).   Then He laid down His life for us, paying the ultimate price
for our sin so we could be freed again from the law of sin and death (the
curse).  He gave us the Lord's Supper as a memorial to that act of sacrifice
(Luke 22:19).   So we would remember the high value God placed on us and His
willingness to pay that high price to have us back in a right relationship
with our Father once again.  Now, all the benefits of that freedom are
available to us for the asking.

Among the many benefits of that freedom is the opportunity to spend
intimate, personal time with God again. To talk with Him, learn from Him,
and be comforted and protected by Him.  To be His child again.  To walk with
Him in the garden in the cool of the evening and share with Him the
excitement and needs of our day.  To feel His pride at our accomplishments
and the loving touch of His hand upon our shoulder.  In front of a computer,
on a quiet path in the woods, or anywhere else you happen to be. You pick
the time and place and He'll be waiting there for you.  All you need to do
is ask.  It's God's greatest desire that you would ask.  He'd like you to
remember that above all else on this Memorial Day.

Your brother and His very grateful child,

Steve Hall



EXCERPTS  FROM  "A  LOVE  LETTER  TO  MY  CHILD  FROM  GOD"
(Author C. K. Bannister - Contributed by Linda Layton)

Take Counsel.  I hear your cry.  It passes through the darkness, filters
through the clouds, mingles with starlight, and finds its way to my heart on
the path of a sunbeam. I have anguished over the cry of a hare choked in the
noose of a snare, a sparrow tumbled from the nest of its mother, a child
thrashing helplessly in a pond, and a Son shedding his blood on a cross.
Know that I hear you, also.
Be at peace.  Be calm. I bring you relief for your sorrow for I know its
cause . . . and its cure.

You weep for all your childhood dreams that have vanished with the years.
You weep for all your self-esteem that has been corrupted by failure.  You
weep for all your potential that has been bartered for security.  You weep
for all your individuality that has been trampled by mobs.  You weep for all
your talent that has been wasted through misuse.  You look upon yourself
with disgrace and you turn in terror from the image you see in the pool.
Who is this mockery of humanity staring back at you with bloodless eyes of
shame? Where is the grace of your manner, the beauty of your figure, the
quickness of your movement, the clarity of your mind, the brilliance of your
tongue?  Who stole your goods? Is the thief's identity known to you as it is
to Me?

You have no memory of that moment when first you emerged from your mother's
womb and I placed My hand on your soft brow.  And the secret I whispered in
your small ear when I bestowed My blessings upon you?  Remember our secret?
You cannot.  The passing years have destroyed your recollection, for they
have filled your mind with fear and doubt and anxiety and remorse and hate
and there is no room for joyful memories where these beasts habitat.

Weep no more.  I am with you . . . and this moment is the dividing line of
your life.  This  is your birthday.  Light your candles.  Share your cake.
Pour the wine. You have been reborn.  Feel My hand upon your head.  Attend
to My wisdom.  Let Me share with you, again, the secret you heard at your
birth and forgot.  You are My greatest miracle.  You are the greatest
miracle in the world.  Those were the first words you ever heard.   Then you
cried.  They all cry.

You did not believe Me then. . . and nothing has happened in the intervening
years to correct your disbelief.  For how could you be a miracle when you
consider yourself a failure at the most menial of tasks?  How can you be a
miracle when you have little confidence in dealing with the most trivial of
responsibilities?  How can you be a miracle when you are shackled by debt
and lie awake in torment over whence comes tomorrow's bread? Enough. The
milk that is spilled is sour.

Yet, how many prophets, how many wise men, how many poets, how many artists,
how any composers, how many scientists, how many philosophers and messengers
have I sent with word of your divinity, your potential for godliness, and
the secrets of achievement?  How did you treat them?  You believed no one.
You burned your map to happiness, you abandoned your claim to peace of mind,
you snuffed out the candles that had been placed along your destined path of
glory, and then you stumbled, lost and frightened, in the darkness of
futility and self-pity, until you fell into a hell of your own creation.
Then you cried and beat your breast and cursed the luck that had befallen
you. You refused to accept the consequences of your own petty thoughts and
lazy deeds and you searched for a scapegoat on which to blame your failure.
How quickly you found one.  You blamed Me!  You cried that your handicaps,
your mediocrity, your lack of opportunity, your failures . . . were the will
of God!  You were wrong!

Let us take inventory.  Let us, first call a roll of your handicaps.  For
how can I ask you to build a new life lest you have the tools?

Are you blind? Does the sun rise and fall without your witness?  No. You can
see . . . and the hundred million receptors I have placed in your eyes
enable you to enjoy the magic of a leaf, a snowflake, a pond, an eagle, a
child, a cloud, a star, a rose, a rainbow . . . and the look of love.  Count
one blessing!

Are you deaf? Can a baby laugh or cry without your attention?  No. You can
hear . . . and the twenty-four thousand fibers I have built in each of your
ears vibrate to the wind in the trees, the tides on the rocks, the majesty
of an opera, a robin's plea, children at play . . . and the words "I love
you".  Count another blessing.

Are you mute?  Do your lips move and bring forth only spittle?  No. You can
speak . . . as can no other of my creatures, and your words can calm the
angry, uplift the despondent, goad the quitter, cheer the unhappy, warm the
lonely, praise the worthy, encourage the defeated, teach the ignorant . . .
and say "I love you".  Count another blessing.

Are you paralyzed?  Does your helpless form despoil the land?  No. You can
move. You are not a tree condemned to a small plot while the wind and world
abuses you. You can stretch and run and dance and work, for within you I
have designed five hundred muscles, two hundred bones, and seven miles of
nerve fibre all synchronized by me to do your bidding. Count another
blessing.

Are you unloved and unloving?  Does loneliness engulf you, night and day?
No. No more. For now you know love's secret, that to receive love it must be
given with no thought of its return. To love for fulfillment, satisfaction,
or pride is no love.  Love is a gift on which no return is demanded. Now you
know that to love unselfishly is its own reward. And even should love not be
returned it is not lost, for love not reciprocated will blow back to you and
soften and purify your heart.  Count another blessing.  Count twice.

Is your heart stricken? Does it leak and strain to maintain your life?  No.
Your heart is strong. Touch your chest and feel its rhythm, pulsating, hour
after hour, day and night, thirty-six million beats each year, year after
year, asleep or awake, pumping your blood through more than sixty thousand
miles of veins, arteries, and tubing . . . pumping more than six hundred
thousand gallons each year. Man has never created such a machine. Count
another blessing.

Are you diseased of skin? Do people turn in horror when you approach?  No.
Your skin is clear and a marvel of creation, needing only that you tend it
with soap and oil and brush and care. In time all steels will tarnish and
rust, but not your skin. Eventually the strongest of metals will wear, with
use, but not that layer that I have constructed around you. Constantly it
renews itself, old cells replaced by new, just as the old you is now
replaced by the new. Count another blessing.

Are your lungs befouled?  Does the breath of life struggle to enter your
body?  No. Your portholes to life support you even in the vilest of
environments of your own making, and they labor always to filter life-giving
oxygen through six hundred million pockets of folded flesh while they rid
your body of gaseous wastes. Count another blessing.

Is your blood poisoned? Is it diluted with water and pus? No. Within your
five quarts of blood are twenty-two trillion blood cells and within each
cell are millions of molecule and within each molecule is an atom
oscillating at more than ten million times each second.  Each second, two
million of your blood cells die to be replaced by two million more in a
resurrection that has continued since your first birth. As it has always
been inside, so now it is on your outside. Count another blessing.

Are you feeble of mind? Can you no longer think for yourself?  No. Your
brain is the most complex structure in the universe.  I know.  Within its
three pounds are thirteen billion nerve cells, more than three times as many
cells as there are people on your earth.  To help you file away every
perception, every sound, every taste, every smell, every action you have
experienced since the day of your birth, I have implanted, within your
cells, more than one thousand billion protein molecules.  Every incident in
your life is there waiting only your recall. And, to assist your brain in
the control of your body I have dispersed, throughout your form, four
million pain-sensitive structures, five hundred thousand touch detectors,
and more than two hundred thousand temperature detectors.

No nation's gold is better protected than you.  None of your ancient wonders
are greater than you.  You are My finest creation.  Within you is enough
atomic energy to destroy any of the world's greatest cities . . . and
rebuild it.

Are you poor? Is there no gold or silver in your purse? No. You are rich!
Together we have just counted your wealth.   Study the list.  Count them
again.  Tally your assets!  Why have you betrayed yourself?  Why have you
cried that all the blessings of humanity were removed from you? Why did you
deceive yourself that you were powerless to change your life?  Are you
without talent, senses, abilities, pleasures, instincts, sensations, and
pride?  Are you without hope?  Why do you cringe in the shadows, a giant
defeated, awaiting only sympathetic transport into the welcome void and
dampness of hell?  You have so much. Your blessings overflow your cup . . .
and you have been unmindful of them, like a child spoiled in luxury, since I
have bestowed them upon you with generosity and regularity.  Answer Me.
Answer yourself.

From your father, in his moment of supreme love, flowed countless seeds of
love, more than four hundred million in number. All of them, as they swam
within your mother, gave up the ghost and died.   All except one!  You.  You
alone persevered within the loving warmth of your mother's body, searching
for your other half, a single cell from your mother so small that more than
two million would be necessary to fill an acorn shell.  Yet, despite
impossible odds, in that vast ocean of darkness and disaster, you
persevered, found that infinitesimal cell, joined with it, and began a new
life.  Your life.  You arrived, bringing with you, as does every child, the
message that I was not yet discouraged of man.

Two cells now united in a miracle.  Two cells, each containing twenty-three
chromosomes and within each chromosome hundreds of genes, which would govern
every characteristic about you, from the color of your eyes to the charm of
your manner, to the size of your brain.  With all the combinations at my
command . . . I could have created three hundred thousand billion humans,
each different from the other.  But who did I bring forth?  You!  One of a
kind. Rarest of the rare. A priceless treasure, possessed of qualities in
mind and speech and movement and appearance and actions as no other who has
ever lived, lives, or shall live.

Why have you valued yourself in pennies when you are worth a king's ransom?
Why did you listen to those who demeaned you . . . and far worse, why did
you believe them? Take counsel. No longer hide your rarity in the dark.
Bring it forth.  Show the world.  And now you have received two laws.  Count
your blessings!  Proclaim your rarity!

What of your next complaint? Opportunity never seeks you?   The only certain
means of success is to render more and better service than is expected of
you, no matter what your task may be. This is a habit followed by all
successful people since the beginning of time.  Therefore I say the surest
way to doom yourself to mediocrity is to perform only the work for which you
are paid. Think not you are being cheated if you deliver more than the
silver you receive. For there is a pendulum to all life and the sweat you
deliver, if not rewarded today, will swing back tomorrow, tenfold. The
mediocre never goes another mile, for why should he cheat himself, he
thinks.

But you are not mediocre.  To go another mile is a privilege you must
appropriate by your own initiative.  You cannot, you must not avoid it.
Neglect it, do only as little as the others, and the responsibility for your
failure is yours alone.  You can no more render service without receiving
just compensation than you can withhold the rendering of it without
suffering the loss of reward.  Cause and effect, means and ends, seed and
fruit, these cannot be separated. The effect already blooms in the cause,
the end pre-exists in the means, and the fruit is always in the seed.  You
cannot command success, you can only deserve it . . . and now you know the
great secret necessary in order to merit its rare reward.  Go another mile!
And now the laws of happiness and success are three.  Count your blessings!
Proclaim your rarity!  Go another mile!

Be patient with your progress. To count your blessings with gratitude, to
proclaim your rarity with pride, to go an extra mile and then another, these
acts are not accomplished in the blinking of an eye.  Yet, that which you
acquire with most difficulty you retain the longest; as those who have
earned a fortune are more careful of it than those by whom it was inherited.

And fear not as you enter your new life.  Every noble acquisition is
attended with its risks.  He who fears to encounter the one must not expect
to obtain the other.  Now you know you are a miracle. And there is no fear
in a miracle.  Be proud.  You are not the momentary whim of a careless
creator experimenting in the laboratory of life.  You are not a slave of
forces that you cannot comprehend.  You are a free manifestation of no force
but Mine, of no love but Mine.  You were made with a purpose.  Feel My hand.
Hear My words.   Never have I lost faith in you.

I gave you this world and dominion over it.  Then, to enable you to reach
your full potential I placed My hand upon you, once more, and endowed you
with powers unknown to any other creature in the universe, even unto this
day.  I gave you the power to think.  I gave you the power to love.  I gave
you the power to will.  I gave you the power to laugh.  I gave you the power
to imagine.  I gave you the power to create.  I gave you the power to plan.
I gave you the power to speak.  I gave you the power to pray.  My pride in
you knew no bounds.

I gave you one more power, a power so great that not even my angels possess
it.  I gave you . . . the power to choose.   Choose Jesus and spiritual life
. . . rather than Satan and spiritual death.  Choose to act . . . rather
than procrastinate.  Choose to love . . . rather than hate.  Choose to laugh
. . . rather than cry.  Choose to create . . . rather than destroy.  Choose
to persevere . . . rather than quit.  Choose to praise . . . rather than
gossip.  Choose to heal . . . rather than wound.  Choose to give . . .
rather than steal.  Choose to grow . . . rather than rot.  Choose to pray .
. . rather than curse.  Choose to live . . . rather than die.   The choice
is exclusively yours.  I can only watch, as before . . . in pride.  . . or
sorrow.

Remember, then, the four laws of happiness and success:

  Count your blessings.
  Proclaim your rarity.
  Go another mile.
  Use wisely your power of choice.

And one more to fulfill the other four.  Do all things with love . . .  love
for yourself, love for all others, and love for Me.  Wipe away your tears.
Reach out, grasp My hand, and stand straight.  Let Me cut the grave clothes
that have bound you.  You are the greatest miracle in the world!

"Jesus replied: 'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all
your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest
commandment.  And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'
All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."    Matthew
22:37-40




JOHN  GLENN'S  RESPONSE
(Received from KiserLinda via CP-SK)

This exchange between Senators John Glenn and Howard Metzenbaum is worth
reading. Not only is it a pretty impressive impromptu speech, but it's also
a good example of one man's explanation why the men and women in the
Uniformed Services do what they do for a living.

Senator Metzenbaum to Senator Glenn: "How can you run for Senate when you've
never held a real "job"?"

Senator Glenn replied: "I served 23 years in the United States Marine Corps.
I served through two wars. I flew 149 missions. My plane was hit by
anti-aircraft fire on 12 different occasions.  I was in the space program.
It wasn't my checkbook; it was my life on the line.  It was not a 9 to 5 job
where I took time off to take the daily cash receipts to the bank.

I ask you to go with me . . . as I went the other day . . . to a Veterans
Hospital and look those men, with their mangled bodies, in the eye and tell
them they didn't hold a job.  You go with me to the space program and go as
I have gone to the widows and orphans of Ed White and Gus Grissom and Roger
Chaffee. You look those kids in the eye and tell them that their dad didn't
hold a job.  You go with me on Memorial Day, and you stand in Arlington
National Cemetery, where I have more friends than I'd like to remember and
you watch those waving flags, and you stand there, and you think about this
nation, and you tell me that those people didn't have a job.

I'll tell you, Howard Metzenbaum, that you should be on your knees every day
of your life thanking God that there were some men who held a job. One that
required a dedication to purpose and a love of country and a dedication to
duty that was more important than life itself. And their self-sacrifice is
what made this country possible . . .

I HAVE held a job, Howard. What about you?"

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Copyright © 1998-2000 by Stephen J. Hall  -   Weekly letters of
encouragement to Christians written by Stephen J. Hall unless otherwise
indicated.  Notes from the Valley and Humor from the Valley are never
intended to offend anyone.  They're meant only to brighten your day and
encourage you along the way.  Most of "notes" and "humor" are a collection
of items provided to me by subscribers and friends.  Credit is given to both
the contributor and to the true author, where known.  If you are blessed by
them, please feel free to make copies and pass them along to others.    If
you have something you'd like to contribute to a future edition or would
like to ask us a question or make a comment, please contact us at:

sossteve@...
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Your love, God, is my song, and I'll sing it!  I'm forever telling everyone
how faithful you are.  I'll never quit telling the story of your love - how
you built the cosmos and guaranteed everything in it.  Your love has always
been our lives foundation, your fidelity has been the roof over our world.
(Psalm 89:1-3 The Message)