Here are my notes on, No Wonder They Call Him Savior, By: Max Lucado.

It’s much easier to die like Jesus if you have lived like him for a lifetime.

Peter, a writer not normally given to using many descriptive verbs, says that the passerby “hurled” insults at the crucified Christ…Of all the scenes around the cross, this one angers me the most. What kind of people, I ask myself, would mock a dying man?

Sometimes I wonder if we don’t see Christ’s love as much in the people he tolerated as in the pain he endured.

What good has hatred ever brought? What hope has anger ever created?

Paul spoke for humanity when he confessed, “I do not know what I am doing.”

That’s the point. Listen closely. Jesus’ love does not depend upon what we do for him. Not at all. In the eyes of the King, you have value simply because you are. You don’t have to look nice or perform well. Your value is inborn.

But no statement is as confusing or frightening as the one in Matthew 19:29. “And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life.”

Question: What kind of God would put people through such agony? What kind of God would give you families and then ask you to leave them? What kind of God would give you friends and then ask you to say good-bye? Answer: A God who knows that the deepest love is built not on passion and romance but on a common mission and sacrifice.

Ironic as it may appear, one of the hardest things to do is to be saved by grace. There’s something in us that reacts to God’s free gift. We have some weird compulsion to create laws, systems, and regulations that will make us “worthy” of our gift. Why do we do that? The only reason I can figure is pride. To accept grace means to accept its necessity, and most folks don’t like to do that. To accept grace also means that one realizes his despair, and most people aren’t too keen on doing that either.

It says the rubber of faith meets the road of reality under hardship. It says the trueness of one’s belief is revealed in pain. Genuineness and character are unveiled in misfortune. Faith is at its best, not in three-piece suits on Sunday mornings or at V.B.S. on summer days, but at hospital bedsides, cancer wards, and cemeteries.

John teaches us that the strongest relationship with Christ may not necessarily be a complicated one. He teaches us that the greatest webs of loyalty are spun, not with airtight theologies or foolproof philosophies, but with friendships; stubborn, selfless, joyful friendships.

Sure you can have a second chance. Just ask Peter. One minute he felt lower than a snake’s belly and the next minute he was the high hog at the trough. Even the angels wanted this distraught netcaster to know that it wasn’t over. The message came loud and clear from the celestial Throne Room through the divine courier. “Be sure and tell Peter that he gets to bat again.”

If you ever wonder how God can use to make a difference in your world, just look at those he has already used and take heart.

She’ll never remember this moment and I’ll never forget it.

Here are my notes on, In My Father’s House, By: Corrie Ten Boom.

Does a child of five really know what he’s doing? Some people say that children don’t have the spiritual understanding-that we should wait until a child can “make up this mind for himself.” I believe a child should be led, not left to wander.

Safe?
Said a precious little laddie,
To his father one bright day,
“Shall I give my heart to Jesus,
Let Him wash my sins away?”
“O my son, but you’re too little,
Wait until you older grow;
Bigger folks, ’tis true, they need Him
Little ones are safe you know.”
Said the father to his laddie
As the storm was coming on
“Are the sheep securely sheltered,
Are they safely gathered, son?”
“All the big ones are, my father
But the lambs – I let them go
For I did not think it mattered
Little ones are safe you know.”

We were always challenged to do our best. When papa took a watch apart and put it back together again, it was a task he performed without regard to the owner’s social status or wealth. He taught us that it wasn’t important what you think, or even what other people think, but what God thinks about the job you have done.

Conversations around the dinner table were lively because we all had stories or experiences we wanted to share. I believe that the great enjoyment of a family eating together is having this time when each person can be heard. Father had a special talent in directing our talks so that no one would feel left out. We loved to tell personal stories, but were taught to laugh at ourselves and not to make fun of others.

Many times through the years I remember the wonderful moments I had listened to the stories and experiences of Father’s friends. There is a Proverb which says, “Thine own friend, and thy father’s friend, forsake not” (Proverbs 27:10). I have often thought how wise that is.

It never ceases to amaze me the way the Lord creates a bond among believers, which reaches across continents, beyond race and color. This spiritual bond is something man has tried to establish with big national or world councils and organized ecumenical movements, but always misses when the Spirit of the Lord and the truth if His word are not present.

But father said, “As Christians we are in the world, but not of the world. We must not give over our county to the enemy, because then we would be disobeying 1 Timothy 2 which says, “I urge, then, first of all that petitions, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for all people – for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness'” vs. 1-2).

Hans told me in later years that over and over again, she repeated to her children, “Opa taught us, ‘When Jesus takes your hand, he keeps you tight, He leads you through your whole life. When Jesus leads you thorough your life, he brings you safely home.'”

Jesus is the real security in this world, even in the hour we have to leave it.

I looked through my small living room into the dining room, where Papa’s portrait hangs. I could see him at the oval table, head bowed, praying: “Lord, bless the Queen; we thank You for this beautiful Lord’s Day and for the promise of Your soon coming. Thank You for this food and for this family. In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.”