My Story – Teresa’s Testimony

My story

The other day I was sorting through old papers and came across a program for a Carol Service, Christmas 1997. I looked through it with affection, remembering the night. Then it caught my eye and my heart – Ladies Duet “For Those Tears I Died”. Those ladies were all of 7 years old and I can still see them, 2 little girls singing their hearts out. That was the night my heart broke with the knowledge of Jesus and what he had done for me but it’s not the beginning or the end of the story.

My salvation story started about a year and a half before that. In 1996, Tommy was really ill and God used that to bring Tommy to Him but I was alright, thank you very much. I had been turned off official religion as a young catholic girl who had to go to mass, come what may and every night during lent. It was completely pointless in my eyes and the thought of having to go to church actually made me queasy. Anyway, God loved me and as long as I lived a “Christian” life, was good to people, did no harm and acknowledged God as being there, I was fine. I actually said that to Tommy’s pastor and was highly offended when he said that I was heading for hell. I was a good person.

But I was really happy that Tommy had found something that helped him and I helped out by making tea for visitors from the church when they called to the house but I never hung around. As time went on, Tommy got more ill and there were times he wasn’t well enough to drive. But he wanted to be at church so I had to bring him. I used to drop him off and go back home. Sometimes I would stay for the singing – I always loved singing – and then as time went by, I would go up to crèche and stay there till the sermon was done. I never stayed for that, ever. I even went to Tommy’s baptism and left him back at the church for the service after but went home and came back for tea and cake when the service was over. During this time, Tommy was reading the bible and on the nights he wasn’t able, he asked me to read it to him. Somehow a bible ended up on my locker permanently – God has His ways.

Christmas 1997, Tommy invited me to the Carol Service. He said I would love it; it was being done by the kids, from as little as could be to about 12 years old. So I happily went along, looking forward to being entertained. And it was as lovely as I expected it to be. Towards the end, these 2 little girls came out and, so very earnestly sang

“You said You’d come and share all my sorrows,
You said You’d be there for all my tomorrows;
I came so close to sending You away,
But just like You promised You came there to stay;
I just had to pray!”

And the song continued

”……………I felt every teardrop,

when in darkness you cried.
And, I’m here to remind you,

That for those tears I died.”

(Words and Music by Marsha J. and Russ Stevens)

Now I was crying a lot of tears at the time and yet the singing in that church always helped soothe me. Listening to that song that night, my heart broke and I thought – that’s why Jesus came!  He went through any amount of suffering to share and understand my tears! Tommy’s visitors had all talked to him about pain and a fallen world and had given him bible verses but I didn’t pay attention to that much. It was religion. But that night it became personal. Don’t every think that inviting someone to the family service with the kids singing or reciting is just cute. God can reach the hardest of hearts through the innocence of the young.

I didn’t surrender that night. In fact it was Easter week before it all came to a conclusion. I was now attending the church more often, even sitting through sermons sometimes. I spent a lot of time with the church family and noticed that there was a peace amongst them, even through bad times, that defied explanation. Sometimes scripture would immediately make sense, where before it was all double Dutch and occasionally interesting. But I was both prideful and stubborn. For one thing it was all too easy so there had to be a catch. Also there was absolutely no way I would give those kind people praying for me the satisfaction of being right. Terrible reasons I know.

Easter week, I was in dreadful form. I couldn’t talk to Tommy at all. He had done nothing wrong but I still blamed him for something. The pastor and his wife came for a cup of tea and ambushed me – make a decision! You know the truth! I was furious. I coldly and politely said I would think about it but that if Jesus would change me, that was a deal breaker. I was happy as I was and didn’t need changing. Valerie the pastor’s wife said that I would still be Teresa, just a better Teresa. That scared me. I now recognise spiritual warfare but then, all I knew was that I would be different, my life would change, I was giving up control of my life.

Good Friday we were expecting a young Christian couple up to spend the day, playing a board game, Risk, which we had done before, laughing and drinking coffee, eating goodies. Just another long Good Friday. I woke up and seeing the bible on the locker, and being a good catholic girl, I thought I should acknowledge the day that was in it. I opened the bible at random and it opened in Mark at the crucifixion. I read about Jesus suffering, his death, the veil of the temple being rent in twain. It was so vivid. It really scared me. I jumped up and told Tommy I was going out. This was Good Friday – nothing open. But I didn’t think of that. I went to the house of the girl who was due in our house and said, Come for a coffee. We went to Bewleys hotel in Newlands Cross and surprise it was open. We stayed there for hours. We drank at least 4 mugs of coffee. God bless her young heart, she sat there and said very little but smiled and listened to me work it out. She answered any questions I put but looking back I think she was really just sitting there praying most of the time.  Eventually we realised that the guys had no idea where we were. Peacefully – at about 7pm – we went home and when the guys asked where we had been, we laughed and said “Drinking Coffee”.  That night in the privacy of my bedroom, I surrendered my life to Jesus, telling him I didn’t understand everything, didn’t agree with everything I had been told about the bible but that I would trust that, in time, He would either explain it or give me peace about not understanding, That He has. We have had some times since then but the journey has been always under the control of the Sovereign God of all Creation.

My life verse:  Philippians 4:6-7 (New International Version, ©2011)

⁶ Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. ⁷ And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

[Editor's comment:  The above piece is a transcript (provided by Teresa herself) of the testimony that she shared during one of our Sunday Morning Services as part of our "Sharing Our Story" series and is published here with her permission and our thanks and with all rights reserved.]

Power Crunch Granola – Recipe

Introduction:

Make up a big batch of this as it is delicious served with milk as a breakfast cereal or sprinkled on stewed fruit to make a yummy desert or to put into little containers for lunch.  Children love to munch on it without milk.

 

Ingredients:

6 cups of Oat flakes.

1 cup of chopped or slivered Almonds.

1 cup of chopped Pecan nuts.

½ cup of ground Pecans (ground in a coffee or spice grinder).

½ cup of Sunflower seeds.

½ cup of Pumpkin seeds.

½ cup of Sesame seeds.

½ cup of flaked Coconut

1 tsp Cinnamon

1 pinch of Sea Salt

1 tsp. Orange Zest (or a few drops of Orange extract)

2/3 Corn or Sunflower Oil

¾ cup of Agave syrup

2 tbs Orange Juice.

 

Methodology:

Preheat oven to 300 degrees having placed rack in the middle of the oven.

In a large mixing bowl, mix all of the dry ingredients together.

Mix together the oil, Agave syrup and Orange Juice (and Orange extract if using instead of zest) and drizzle over dry ingredients, mixing well to ensure that all the dry ingredients are completely coated.

Spread the mixture on a baking sheet and put into the oven.

(For this amount you will need two baking trays but if you want a smaller batch you can simply halve the above ingredients.)

Bake for about thirty minutes, checking every 10 minutes and stirring it up to ensure that it bakes evenly as it tends to cook more quickly around the edges.

Remove from the oven and transfer to a large glass or stainless steel bowl to cool.

Once cooled store in an airtight container in a cool place.

 

Serving Suggestions:

Serve with some chopped fresh fruit and a dollop of yoghurt or some rice, oat or almond milk.

(Or see introduction above)

 

Variations:

Other nuts can be used/added such as chopped Walnuts, Hazlenuts, Cashew Nuts etc.

Instead of Agave syrup, you can sweeten with Rice syrup, Maple syrup or Honey.  Because Honey is much sweeter use a little less.

I like to make it with Coconut Oil as it gives a lovely flavour and a crispy texture.

[The above recipe was given to us by Mags K and is published with her permission and our thanks.]

Worlds Apart

Worlds Apart.

To say the world he normally lived in was harsh and cold even unloving would, I think, be unfair, or at very least misleading.  For certainly there were episodes of softness, warmth and indeed love and yet looking back could he really tell which of these two opposites were “normality” and which were the “episodes”?

As the writer of this story do I not have a responsibility to communicate to you the reader an accurate portrayal of the world, or even the worlds, that formed reality for the small boy now lying, silently sobbing on his bed?  This small frightened boy with eyes burning from the tears that flooded through them, with mind on fire with anger, confusion and frustration, with skin enflamed from the “attitude adjustment” he had just received?

But then just what is reality? Is it something concrete, touchable, something you can see?  Are not love and hatred both realities and yet are they concrete?  Are they touchable?  Can you see them or do you just see the results of them?

Still and silent the small boy looked up from the pillow he had hidden his face in.  That pillow which had so many times absorbed so many tears and that so many times had mopped his fevered brow.  He hated this life, this world. He didn’t like it, didn’t understand it, didn’t accept it and yet to escape it was impossible.

Unwilling to move in case his movement was detected, and seen as further rebellion he searched for something to do.  He needed some silent, painless distraction from his hurting and his confusion and yet something that would not draw further attention to himself.

There on the nightstand that stood beside the bunk beds he was laying in he saw one of his brother’s books.  “Adventures of The Wishing Chair” read the bright white title, by Enid Blyton.  Reaching out he grabbed at it and pulled it into the safety of the lower bunk and held it in front of himself on the pillow.

“Wishing”, didn’t he know all about wishing?  Hadn’t he made a thousand wishes already?  Hadn’t he so often “wished” that he could be a better son? Wished that he didn’t mess up so badly?  Hadn’t he wished time and time again that his parents, his father, could understand him better?  Oh yes he knew all about wishing. He had spent most of his young life “wishing” that the voices in his head would stop and go away forever, wishing, praying, that God would simply reach down and take him, removing him from this world, these worlds, that he knew so well and yet didn’t want to be part of?

Wishing and praying.  Are they really that different?  Isn’t a prayer but a wish that has been correctly addressed?

As he lay there studying the book’s cover he started feeling cold and so carefully eased the chenille bedspread from under him.  It was an action he had done many times before and one he had now perfected so as not to have to leave the bed.

Once it was pushed to the side he lifted his feet, still laying on his stomach his pyjama top still raised halfway up his torso, his pyjama trousers down by his ankles so as nothing touched and furthered angered his enflamed raw skin and then very carefully he pulled the bedspread up tenting it over himself and returned to his book.

And there safe in the shelter of his self-made tent he entered into such a wondrous, safe new world of imagination.  It was a world of imps and elves, goblins and gnomes, a world where magic, talking trees, mischief and adventure were all acceptable and encouraged.

The more he read the further he went in, the further he went in the further away from the reality of his own world, his own worlds, he became.

But then what is reality?  Had he not now entered into a new reality?  In the heart and mind of that small boy had not someone else’s imagination become his new reality albeit for but several, short, stolen minutes?  And isn’t that part of the wonder of stories and imagination?  For what are but several, short, stolen minutes in one world can be yet hours, days, and weeks in another.

The door to his bedroom opened and as the small boy’s mother quietly entered his room so he quickly exited his new world, letting both the book and his eyelids fall.

Laying there in his mock sleep he remained motionless as his mother quietly lowered his bed-spread tent and then carefully and caringly adjusted his pyjamas so as to dress him for bed and yet not cause him additional pain.

As the bed spread pulled up over his small body he felt his new book, his new portal to a new safe world slip from his fingers as his mother replaced it back on the night stand before reaching her head in and kissing his forehead goodnight.

Pushing his arms up and embracing the pillow that had comforted him so many times, he listened as the bedroom door closed once more and as it did so he exited his world of waking to his world of tormented dreams.  And yet maybe, just maybe, this night his world of dreams would not be filled with torment but with recollections of Mollie and Peter and their journeys on the “Wishing Chair.”

And as sleep became the current reality he knew that world he had just left would be a world he would return to many times in his future, and even more that he could now create his own new worlds.  Worlds full of magic and adventure, of mischief and mayhem, of solace and safety, worlds now not only open to him but that one day he would open to others for them to be able to find a new exciting, accepting and acceptable, safe reality.

© Kevin A. Deane – January 2011.

[The above piece was written for the Creative Writing group in response to one of the assignments and is published here with permission.]

A Same Kind of Different As Me. – Book Reveiw

“Man is born free and is everywhere in chains” So said the famous French Philosopher, Voltaire. In Christian terms however the opposite might be said to be true,   we are born in chains and we can only be truly free through Jesus.

I have just read the above book and this is certainly the case. This book has had a deep impact on me because of the amazing lives of the people concerned, ordinary down to earth folk who did extraordinary things through God’s power.

This is not a war story although battles of psychological and spiritual dimensions take place. It is not a love story although human and divine love and compassion runs through the pages like the blood that dripped from the Cross. It is a powerful example of the life changing power of unconditional love.

Ron Hall and Denver Moore invite you travel with them on their journey of growth pain and joy. It also concerns Deborah or Miss Debbie as Denver calls her who is Ron’s wife. She is an inspirational, stubborn and feisty woman who exudes a deep, deep unselfish love for others.

Above all the true story tells about the life of homeless people. These are often hidden in our cities, ignored by “respectable” citizens and often sadly not a priority to many churches and religious folk! Yet the story shows the homeless to be inspirational, loving, human and compassionate. Yes they come with “baggage” with deep hurts, with anger, and with a paranoia for other people.

Yes they are sometimes difficult to love. However I have found while working alongside them in our major cities on this island, a warmth, affection and earthy honesty towards me, that humbled and gave a new meaning to my life and the unconditional love and grace of my Saviour.

In a sense the lives in the book are so incredible that a novelist would think twice about inventing them but a child could respond to their integrity simplicity and candid word.

………………………………………………………………………………………..

The story starts in a burning plantation hut in Louisiana to a homeless drifter who grew up picking cotton in virtual slavery.  It concerns an upscale art dealer a virtual millionaire accustomed to the “high life” and his wife who was the feisty and gutsy woman already mentioned. Her love and dreams were the catalyst for far-reaching effects on individuals and on States.

Gritty with pain and brutality the book also shines with the way a consistent human and accepting approach and the restorative power of forgiveness can transform hurting people. At the lowest and most basic level of literally fighting for existence, we can come together and share our common needs.

There are many sad situations portrayed and not all the endings are happy. The overall effect is of the way we humans can rise above our lot in life. Not all drifters are hopeless, not all wealthy people are secure, some churches do get involved where it hurts and we are all equally worthy in God’s eyes.  In a way as Denver explains, “we is all homeless-just workin our way towards home”

I laughed, I cried, while reading this book. I was deeply challenged and inspired above all. I hope you get a chance to read it too!

By Des Kilroy. – All rights reserved.

[The above piece was written by Des for Enniscorthy Christian Fellowships' Creative Writing Group and is published here with his permission and our thanks.]

Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire. – A Book Reveiw.

One of these days I shared with a very special group of Christians and friends of ours whom I love and hold dear, that I feel something is missing in my walk with God. That there must be more to Christian life and Christianity as such, then what we are living and experiencing individually and as the body of Christ. The God I read about in the Bible is a God of Power a God of love and passion and desires his children to be led by his spirit, to obey him and so many things more. And yet we are lacking in so many ways in our personal walk with God which means having a relationship with God and being filled and guided by his spirit on a daily basis and therefore we lack to live in the body as we should. While expressing my frustration, I was handed this book by one of my friends with the words “You will love this book.” And man I love this book.

The Book was written by a pastor named Jim Cymbala, who as a young pastor struggled, financially and personally with pastoring a congregation of 20 people, which was situated in the middle of a neighbourhood that was made up of people who were in prostitution, drug abuse, alcoholism, domestic abuse of all sorts, hardened streetwise criminals and of homeless people. In one of his sermons, where he just couldn’t take the suppressing atmosphere anymore that was hanging over the place, he broke down and started crying.

The people who were attending gathered at the altar. At first there was silence, but then the Spirit of God moved the people to call on to the Lord. Prayer and Singing filled the room as a man came running to confess that he had regularly been taking money from the offering plate. That was the first spiritual breakthrough he experienced in his ministry. But he knew there was more that God wanted. He just could not ignore the burning in his soul, that the Spirit of God had to touch this place and jet he didn’t know how to go about it.

On a fishing trip, he just couldn’t get his mind off of his concerns for his church. As he moved away from the others he prayed and tears came rolling as he heard in his spirit God speaking to him to lead his church to prayer and God himself will provide everything needed and that he would fill his church with more people than the building could hold. Peace came over him and everything he knew about church growth was not relevant to him anymore. Because God had promised.

As he did what God asked and the congregation started to pray things started to pick up. The attendance of people grew weekly, his wife build up a choir which is known today, the financial burden was starting to ease. People from around the area came and were touched by Gods love and changed their lives by trusting and believing in what Christ has done for them. Different ministries developed from there. During this time he experienced some really incredible and powerful encounters with people. A woman who was abused and lived a life in addiction and had several unhealthy relationships was changed forever by God, one woman who was possessed was freed by prayer, a man who lived his life as female prostitute came to believe and gradually changed. Even the pastor’s daughter who decided to live her life on the wrong side and was close to death was delivered miraculously through a prayer session. But the story that touched me personally the most was the Homeless man who stood at the end of the church after one service. He humbly waited until he was permitted to approach the altar were Jim was sitting exhausted from the three services he had held that day. As the man came closer the stench of alcohol sweat and urine was so overwhelming that he had to turn away to take a breath. Thinking the man wanted some money he put his hand into his pocket to get out his wallet. In the process the young homeless guy stopped him. All he wanted to know was, how he could get this Jesus all are talking about. In that moment a love he had never felt for anyone before filled the pastor’s heart. He embraced him and held him close as he spoke into his ear about Jesus while the man had his head leaned on Jim’s chest.

This book, although it speaks of things that happened before my time in 1972, inspired me so much. It showed me that if we only did call out to God the way we should, personally and together, empowered by Gods spirit, we could do incredible things. Things that would really matter and that would really make a change. And I pray that this passion for God I feel now will grow into a big fire and will touch people around me and will change also their lives forever.

By Natalie Smith. – All Rights Reserved

(The above piece was written by Natalie for and as apart of ECF’s Creative Writing Group and is published here with her permission and our thanks.)

Joseph’s Lullaby – A Song Reveiw

My passion for Christian music is probably well known by anyone who knows me and so my choosing to review a song might not come as much of a surprise. My choosing to review a Christmas song might however.

I mean of all the wonderful songs that are out there, why choose a Christmas song and why indeed a lesser known Christmas song? Well I will be honest with you. The answer is that this song quite simply touches my heart.

Written by Bart Millard and Brown Bannister, “Joseph’s Lullaby” is from Mercy Me’s – Christmas Sessions and for me looks at a different and yet oh so beautiful aspect of the Christmas story – that of the relationship between Joseph and the new born Christ.

To hold your new born child in your arms is, I can assure you, such a wonderful and glorious thing indeed and if you are a Jewish man to hold your new born son was not only a wonderful and glorious thing but meant the securing of your bloodline and yet was this the case for Joseph? For the new born son that he held within his arms was not his but God’s and yet was it?

And there within lies one of the most wonderfully sacrificed conflicts that we are reminded of within this song.
In his lullaby to his son the Christ-child, Joseph sings the words “I believe the glory of heaven, is lying in my arms tonight. Lord, I ask that He for just one moment simply be my child”

Are we not invited to glimpse here both Joseph’s humanness and his faithfulness conflicting and yet sacrificially combined?

For the men reading this I ask you, “If you were told by God that the child your wife bore was not from you but from Him would not you possibly hold that new-born child in your arms and ask the very same thing? “Father I recognize and acknowledge that this child is your child and yet Father, just for this one single night please let him be mine?”

And for the women reading this I ask, “How would you encourage your husband to recognize and acknowledge the awe-inspiring gift that you have both been given – to raise and protect and guide and nurture God’s own child?

As a piece of music I am so blessed by this song. Its tempo is relaxing and soothing and it’s vocal’s, as usual with Mercy Me, crisp and clear and easy to follow.
As a lullaby it relaxes and encourages and as Christmas based song it represents a different aspect of the Christmas story and that in itself is both refreshing and thought-provoking as within it it not only includes Christ’s birth but also recognizes that he was born to die – and even more – to die for us to reconcile us to God.

This song and indeed the story of Christ and Christmas – His birth, His life, His death, His resurrection and His ascension into glory poses very clear and very real challenges for us all and yet, for those of us who are parents, does this song not somehow present another vitally important question and challenge?

Shouldn’t we also be asking ourselves whose child, whose children, our own child, our own children really are? Are they simply our children or are they God’s? And if so what are the responsibilities that He has given us along with them?

Throughout this beautiful song we are reminded not only of the birth and purpose of Christ but also of the love and purpose that Joseph had as a parent.

As parents none of us are blessed with the awesome gift of baring and raising God’s own son – born to die for us in order to reconcile us to God. BUT we are, are we not, blessed with the awesome gift and responsibility of children that we may raise them to know Christ and to be His representatives in bringing others to reconciliation with God the Father through Christ Jesus.

So as we enter this Christmas time and as you listen to this wonderful song I invite you to consider not only the birth and purpose of this the Christ-child, but also Your own purpose in Him.

God bless you.

 

Kevin.

 

The above piece was written for and as part of Enniscorthy Christian Fellowship’s Creative Writing Group’s last assignment and whilst there were several other excellent pieces that were written and that will be published in the near future, this one is being published now because of the season and it’s relevancy at this time.

To Be In His Presence

I am writing about a song that we sing in church quite a bit and every time I pray I think about it and find it quite moving.  It goes like this…

To be in Your presence.

To sit at Your feet.

When Your love surrounds me

And makes me complete.

 

Chorus: This is my desire, O Lord.

This is my desire.

This is my desire, O Lord.

This is my desire.

 

To rest in Your presence.

Not rushing away.

To cherish each moment

Here I would stay.

 

Chorus: This is my desire, O Lord.

This is my desire.

This is my desire, O Lord.

This is my desire.

 

Author: Richards, Noel

Copyright: ©1991 Kingsway’s Thankyou Music (Admin by: Kingsway’s Thankyou Music)

CCLI Number 540071

What does it mean to be in God’s presence?  One could argue that as Christians we are always in God’s presence, whether we feel it or not. So what does this song writer mean here?

I think he is talking about those special times when we close our door, get rid of all distractions, rid our mind of all the things that threaten to overtake us, and sit quietly and meditate on Jesus.

Think just of His awesomeness and His majesty and His power and His might.  Then focus on His beauty and His gentleness, His grace and His love.

Empty our minds of all the things of the world and concentrate on Jesus.  Just rest in His presence.  Allow His Holy Spirit to flow through you, bringing with it rest and restoration and healing.

What does it mean to “sit at His feet?”

Every time we sing these words I’m reminded of Mary Magdalene, sitting at the feet of Jesus, putting an alabaster jar of perfume on His body and feet, and weeping silent tears and wiping her tears on his feet with her hair.  What a wonderful picture of Jesus and His love and Grace.

This makes me weep too and I can visualize my tears dropping on Jesus’ feet as I sit close to Him. I long for that closeness and intimacy with Jesus in prayer. Unfortunately I can’t dry my tears with my hair!

The more we spend time with Jesus, the more we get to know Him, and to love Him, and to listen to His voice, and to share with Him our own pain, knowing He too suffered physical and psychological pain.

“Where Your love surrounds us”

It can be very hard to get to that place where we feel God’s love surrounding us.  We may not feel it at all, but still try to spend time in His presence just concentrating on Him.  Sometime we just have to believe God’s promises that He will not leave us or forsake us. And that He will not take the Holy Spirit from us.

“And makes me complete.”

We are only complete and whole people in Jesus with His Holy Spirit. I’m reminded of the end of another song, “I’m made complete in Him.”  The dictionary describes completeness as “having all the necessary parts.”  Do we have all the necessary parts in our relationship with Jesus?

“This is my desire, O Lord. This is my desire.”

My greatest desire as a Christian is to be more like Jesus. It is my one ambition and I know it can take a lifetime.

“To rest in Your Presence.”, is slightly different from to be in your presence.

The  dictionary describes rest as “Peace, ease, or refreshment, the act or state of ceasing from work, activity, or motion.”

Resting on Jesus, therefore, gives us times of refreshment and peace even if we don’t feel peaceful. I have to say here, that if we are in a bad place emotionally, the last thing we want to do is to pray, but if we practice resting on Jesus, we don’t even need to pray.  We can be encompassed, surrounded and upheld in the arms of Jesus.

“Not rushing away”.

John Wesley, the founder of Methodism was heard to say, “I am so busy that I only four hours to pray”.  Well, that would be good, but a bit impractical in these days.  However we are tempted to rush away.  We are tempted to give our shopping list and not spend time listening to God’s voice.  I know how difficult this is for people with small children to get even five minutes to yourself.  But if we practice the art of listening to God, we can hear Him anywhere.

But we are inclined to fit God in between times of business and to rush away and not hear what He so desperately wants us to hear.  More than anything He wants intimacy with us.

“To cherish each moment”

Sometimes we find it so hard to rest in God but we can cherish each moment.  All our lives can be made up of moments with Jesus that we cherish.  If we marry we vow to love and cherish until death do us part.  To cherish our time with Jesus is equally important.

The last line is difficult as is expresses “here I would stay”

We won’t experience that until we get to heaven and are able to sit at His feet for eternity.

No matter how much we want to stay at the feet of Jesus, there is a big world out there.  There are people who are lonely, depressed, suicidal, there are alcoholics and drug addicts, and prostitutes, there are homeless people living on the streets with no one to care for them, there are people dying from cancer and aids.  There are people affected effected by floods and earthquakes, who have lost everything.  There are pour neighbours in distress, or our friends going through difficult times.  We have to leave the feet of Jesus and do our utmost to put our Christianity into practice in whatever way we can.

This song really challenges me to spend quality time with Jesus, but not to be “so heavenly minded that I’m no earthly use”.

By Joan Kilroy.  All rights reserved.

(The above piece was written by Joan for and as apart of ECF’s Creative Writing Group and is published here with her permission and our thanks.)

Creative Writing Group – Such a blessing!

Those of you who are familiar with what is happening here at ECF will know that we have recently started a new Creative Writing Group.

Comprising of about 12 sessions in total, the purpose of this group is quite simply to explore and share any gifts that God may have given folk here at ECF whilst at the same time learning more and more about Creative Writing and how God can and often does use it.

Our first meeting was Monday evening at Natalie and John’s home two weeks ago and was basically just an introduction evening with the first module based evening being yesterday.  At our first session together, those participating, were asked to write a short piece (there will be a different assignment each time we meet) and to bring it along and share it with the others in the group this week.  The subject matter of this first assignment was “My first time at ECF” and participants were asked simply to write a piece on that subject matter and share them this week – which they did last night.

Well all I have to say is WOW!  What an evening!

I cannot begin to express the warmth and love and delight of the blessing that it was to hear folk sharing their work and how God had directed them to ECF.  Additionally I cannot begin to describe the wealth of writing gifts that were so obviously preset in the folk who attended.

You know it really is such a wonderful thing when we consider the relative small number who attend ECF and yet within that number there are so very many gifts and I am humbled to be able to see those gifts.

It is a funny thing really and you would think that I would have learned by now, but God is such an awesome heavenly Father and touches us, blesses us, challenges us in so many different ways doesn’t he?  You would also think that I would have learned by now that when I get it into my heart to set an assignment in order to challenge, refocus our thinking or in order to make a point, maybe just maybe, God actually put that on my heart to challenge and refocus MY thinking and to make a point to me!  ( Sorry Lord, I can be so incredibly slow at times)

But God is a wonderful God isn’t He?  What we often see as a small isolated incident or circumstance is so very often a part of a much larger and much greater picture.  Many of the eight of us who attended  last night’s group shared what we had written and WOW what blessings they were!  Now I need to point out, for those who don’t know me, that I am not usually given to excitement or making statements such as “Wow” but last night my heart was touched in so many ways and I am indeed humbled and blessed to have been present at it.

I loved the intimacy, the openness, the vulnerability, the passion, the joy, the hurts, the hopes, the fears, the witness that was present in the pieces shared and in the fellowship that we enjoyed and I so very much want to thank all those involved and of course to thank God for all that happened last night.

Because of the nature of the pieces shared I haven’t asked if could include and publish them on this blog although I have mentioned that I would very much like to include some of those written in response to this week’s assignment whioch was to write a review on a Book, Play, Song, or Film.

If you are a local to ECF and feel you may have a gift in respect of Creative Writing  please feel free to speak to me about participating in the group or if you live further a field and feel you may have a gift in this respect then I fully encourage you to explore it and to see what God does!

God bless one and all.

Kevin.

Personal Testimony – Liz.

This is the personal testimony of a lady who spoke to 100 ladies at a Beautiful Womens Night organized by Enniscorthy Christian Fellowship.

Hi Ladies,

I’d like to welcome you all here tonight.  Liz is my name and I am privileged to have the opportunity to share my story with you all.

Here is my story.

I was brought up as a catholic and all the family went to mass every Sunday.  We lived a normal life and we were good neighbours and lived good lives and thought that was enough to get us into heaven.  I was to find out later in my life that this was not the way to be saved.

My husband and three children and I lived normal everyday lives in Dublin and moved back home to a mile outside the town in 1998.  In 2000 during the Fleadh Cheoil as my family and I walked about the town enjoying the festival I saw a sign over the credit union, which said, “Jesus in the Millennium”.  I told the family I was going in to see what that was all about.  My family tried to put me off but I felt drawn to call in.  I met Andrew and Lorna (the Enniscorthy Christian Fellowship leader and his wife), I also met John and Linda, another couple from the church.  They chatted about Jesus. They did not preach to me or ask me to join their church.  They were ordinary people and they were to become a very important part of my life. (My friends in Enniscorthy Christian Fellowship have heard this story so often that they are surely yawning now.  J)

Time passed, about a year and I had no involvement with anyone from this church.  A friend of mine invited me to come along to a ladies bible study in Lorna’s house.  I went along not knowing what to expect.  After a few weeks I began to look at Jesus with a new heart. In case you think we just arrived and studied a part of the bible and then went home, that was not the case.  On arrival we chatted and shared stories, always with a mug of tea or coffee.  We did little stories from the bible, which at first I wasn’t always able to follow as I never read the bible before.  As time went by I became more aware and familiar with the bible and wanted to know more.

One of my favourite studies was when Jesus visited Mary and Martha.  Martha rushed about cooking and fussing.  Mary sat at the feet of Jesus and listened to his stories.  Which do you think you are?  I was certainly Martha but now I am trying to be more like Mary.

As time went by Jesus became a really big part of my everyday life.  I wanted to know more and more. So now I read a little of my bible everyday with the help of two little books.  One is called “Daily Bread” and the other is called “My Upper Room” .

I have had a difficult time in the last few years.  Both my Mum and Dad passed away.  I became very ill with Cancer but throughout this time I felt God’s presence.

When I was going through very bad days and could do nothing for myself, not even look at the telly, phone people or answer the phone.  I could not even do my little bible stories so all I did was lie in my bed with my hand on the bible.  My husband and family were all so very good to me as were my friends who would come to visit and pray with me.   I finished all my treatment in July and thank God for so many blessings.

Now I also go to church on Sunday with the Enniscorthy Christian Fellowship, I am so blessed to be a part of this church.  Everyone is so supportive of each other and we all follow Jesus with a passion.

I was once afraid of what people might say or think of me but now I have handed over my life and let God be in charge.

Thank you for coming along here tonight and listening to my story.  I do hope you enjoy the rest of the evening.  If you want to hear more or get some information about the church please come and ask any of the ladies in the church, they will be the ladies keeping themselves very busy J  If you would like to ask me anything I will be happy to share with you.  Just ask any of the ladies and they will point me out.

Liz.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving present your requests to God.  (Philippians 4:6 NIV)

And the Peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Art Group plays The Pot Luck Painting Game

Yesterday evening saw the last night of Enniscorthy Christian Fellowship’s Art group this season.

So far since the Art Group began, (way back when) we have taken a basic look at several art forms, media, genre and styles looking and have done such things as sketching, drawing, painting, sculpting, using such things as clay, chalk, charcoal, pencils, watercolours, and acrylics.

Intended purely as a basic introduction the Art group has been attended by about 20 different folk and has been a great source of education, entertainment, inspiration and fellowship and I have to say that I have been so very blessed to have been a part of it and to see just how much joy it has brought to so many including in no small way to me personally.

Normally when you start a picture or a sculpture you consider what it is you want to produce and then choose the medium, materials, etc, that you are going to use and roughly how you are going to use them. So just for a bit of fun and for a change, since last night was to be our last meeting for a while we all played the “Pot Luck Painting Game.” (Please don’t bother googling it, I invented it yesterday afternoon.) The “Pot Luck Painting Game” is designed to illustrate just how different things are when you don’t have a choice of what colour canvas you use or what size of brush or colour of paint you can use.

Basically the game is split into rounds – the length of each round being decided by the toll of a dice and each player (blindly) dips into a bag of tubes of paints and selects one which they then have to use for the duration of that round, plus they also have to choice a brush size through dipping into a bag fill of different brush sizes. PLUS to make it even more fun (and more difficult), each and every round one player in turn rolls a dice and if they get an odd number their original brush is swapped for a very large brush. This process is the repeated for every round so that after several rounds you end up with a painting that you have had to paint with no control over the colours used, the brush sizes used or indeed the colour of the canvass used.

At the end of the game and independent judge (Natalie’s husband JOHN) who had not seen who painted which picture, was asked to choose the picture he liked and that person was awarded an art book.

Below you will see photos of the hose attending the Art Group last night as well as pictures of the finished Pot Luck Paintings and the winning entry which was painted by Mags Burt. Well Done Mags!

As I said before, the art group has been a wonderful success and such a blessing and I am very grateful to Mags who helped with the transport and logistics, Natalie and family for the use of their home and of course to each and every person who participated.

I am really looking forward to when the Art Group starts up again after the Summer Break or after the intended Creative Writing Group.

God bless!
Kevin.

(Damien's)

(Wiesia's)

(Patricia's)

(Fionnuala's)

Runner - Up (Natalie's)

The Winner (Mags B)