Devotionals

My journey back to God began with a pack of cigarettes and an offer to teach a Sunday School class.
 

For ten years, I had experimented in forbidden but enticing areas. Forget what God wanted. I wanted what I wanted. And I fervently ran after it. By the time the offer disembarked, I had put aside my questionable activities-except for tobacco use. After all, the Bible didn’t say, “Thou shalt not smoke.” (But it did say my body was a temple of God’s Spirit).
 

Eddie* was a talented young man I met shortly after high school when I became employed by the same industry he worked for. He soon became my idol and good friend.
 

Eddie seemed to know how to do everything. If it was something unfamiliar, he mastered it quickly. He farmed on the side and periodically invited me over to help him. Whether repairing a fence, disc harrowing a field, mending a barn, repairing his car or building his house, he conquered it all with ease.
 

He was in again. ISS or In School Suspension. While in middle school, my son seemed strangely attracted to this place. He got in less trouble here. After all, he owned his own cubicle. No one could bother him nor could he annoy anyone else.
 

I knew the story before she arrived. “She stepped on my foot. I don’t think she meant to, but it hurt.” “Are you okay,” I asked. She was and trotted off.
 

No sooner had she ambled away than another wobbled up, pointed with a crooked finger and said “I was playing with the basketball and he took it away.” I whispered, “I’ll watch him.”
 

I wasn’t old enough to drive, but Dad said, “If you want it, you’ll have to buy it.”
 

I was fourteen when Dad brought home a new Chevrolet Vega. As he backed out of our driveway on his first day of ownership, his prize stopped in its tracks. Instead of returning it to the dealership, he offered me the chance to purchase it. I did, and for the next six years I offered monthly sacrifices. Needless to say, I was excited when the loan was paid.