Most Improved
Stories
Contents
"Most Improved" by David O. Bales
"Echoing Sheep" by David O. Bales
"Having Compassion" by John Fitzgerald
Most Improved
Genesis 18:1-15 (21:1-7)
By David O. Bales
In the teachers’ lounge at South Middle School the morning gossip and general world critique turned to Darrell Schmeling. “Old prune face,” one called him.
A teacher getting a soda from the refrigerator turned and said, “I saw him smile once, but I think he was getting paid.”
The assistant principal said, “Have you ever seen a squarer jaw?” to which another responded, “No, but this one is always clamped shut.”
“He’s just serious,” his team teacher in history said. “He’s always concentrating on something and he doesn’t hurt anybody. He doesn’t know how to be any other way.”
“Well, by 50,” the physical education teacher said, “you’d think he’d found something to do instead of reading giant tomes. He just plods silently along with his big books.”
Another teacher leaned into the group, “And I’ll bet if he were here ... heard everything you said ... he wouldn’t utter a word.”
The door knob turned and they all looked guiltily toward it; but, it wasn’t Darrell Schmeling, just Melanie from the office staff, talking with someone behind her as she slowly opened the door.
At Darrell’s church they were talking about him too. The ministry committee convened to sift through the church membership list to determine which gifts members had and which ministries they were performing. Pastor Sharon repeated her usual introduction, “I don’t care if they define their ministry as farmer, stockbroker or parent. As long as they understand that Christ has given them gifts in order to serve the church and the world.”
“Yes, we all know that,” James said as he took the copies of the membership list from the pastor’s hands. “Let’s get going.” His gift was leadership.
The six members and pastor studied the list the secretary had prepared. Person by person they discussed and suggested how people were serving or might serve. They narrowed the list to Darrell Schmeling. A ten minute discussion brought no good idea for Darrell. “He’s so quiet,” Jan said.
“So brainy,” another said.
After a long pause, James puckered his lips and said, “Let’s pray and wait for an answer.” So they did. Their prayer was their usual practice: each silently meditating and speaking to God in their own heart. Soon Ceciline said, “I’ve got it: middle school youth group advisor.”
“What?” the rest said in unison.
“No, I don’t think so,” James said.
“Yeah,” another said. “He’s so distant. I can’t imagine him with a youth group. It would take a miracle.”
Pastor Sharon said, “Let her talk. Let her talk.”
Ceciline stated that if Darrell were convinced to work with the middle school kids it would be for his sake as well as the group’s. “Serving others fulfills us,” she said. A couple still shook their heads and one sighed, but the idea had come from prayer and they all were willing to follow the Spirit’s leading -- whether they understood it or not.
James was delegated to visit Darrell that night and Darrell agreed. No discussion, just a quiet, “yes” to James’ request. He did blink and give a small gasp, however, when James told him that his first service would be with the middle school retreat next weekend. James reassured him, “It’s at a dandy retreat center. You’ll have a bed.”
Throughout the retreat Darrell proved a quick learner -- for being such an old person, as the middle school kids said. He took directions well and, even though the other leaders were concerned about his joining the organized craziness of the games, he did. Samuel, the youth pastor, had explained, “We play dignity destroying games. Everyone’s dignity is shattered, old and young alike, and we become just people together. It’s more than team-building. It’s getting closer to the image God put on us.”
In the learning groups Darrell shared, just as the students were asked to share, answering about what the Bible said and what it meant and how they felt God working in their lives. At 50 -- and with 30 extra pounds -- he usually lost at the game Scoot, Scoot! He was obviously embarrassed, but squeezed in with everyone when they played Sardines. He was huffing and puffing, but he held his own at Round Robin Ping Pong. He won hands down, however, at If You Love Me, Honey, Smile. No one could approach him in the circle and say to him, “If you love me, honey, smile” and provoke him to smile. With the coolness from deep within, he answered, “I love you, honey, but I can’t smile.”
Samuel watched Darrell wipe sweat off his face in the round robin tournament. At lunch he nudged him and said, “You’re doing great.”
The next Sunday during worship Samuel reported to the congregation about the middle school retreat. The middle school kids and their advisors sat in the three front rows and he announced that they would now bestow awards for the weekend. The students each received outlandish awards: longest in the bathroom, worst morning hair, most tears in the jeans. The congregation enjoyed the antics as much as the kids.
Then Samuel announced one more award. “Would Mr. Schmeling come up here.” The kids all clapped and yelled. He stood stone faced before the congregation. Samuel said to him, “Please turn side ways and face Joleen.” He did, and the middle school girl held up to the congregation a large page with the printed word, ‘SMILE.’” She handed it to Darrell and said, “Mr. Schmeling, I give you this award as Most Improved. Everyone laughed. “Now,” she said, looking grimly at him and leaning forward, “If you love me honey, smile.”
Darrell, without missed a breath, answered, “I love you honey, but I can’t smile.” Then Darrell Schmeling, 50 year old history teacher of the square jaw, 30 pounds overweight, and second runner up in the round robin ping pong tournament, laughed out loud.
PREACHING POINT: How do God’s miracles come into our lives -- especially if we seem too old to change?
* * *
Echoing Sheep
Psalm 100
By David O. Bales
“A little farther up here,” Uncle Harvey said, motioning Josh to catch up with him. Josh could see that the hill was becoming steeper and more difficult; and the grass was still wet and he almost stepped in sheep manure. This wasn’t turning out to be the kind of day his parents said it would.
Josh didn’t want to be climbing up this hillside with his uncle. He hadn’t wanted to be here at all. At 13 he’d hit a growth spurt and was suddenly taller than anyone in his class and he’d kept his coordination. Now all he could only think of was playing basketball. Everyday this summer he’d been meeting with friends to play basketball for half the day. He would only quit when no one would play any longer. Now he was stuck with his uncle, his “kind of strange,” uncle as his father described his brother.
Josh stopped on a small swatch of ground that wasn’t so wet or slippery. He looked up at his uncle, 20 yards ahead of him. He saw his uncle’s big, clumpy steps in boots that looked too big for his feet. He seemed almost wild in his awkward progress up the hill, throwing out his arms with each step.
“Joshua,” his uncle yelled, “come look.”
Josh had only been to his uncle’s farm a few times. His parents discussed that, if they were driving by the old farm, they’d better stop and see Harvey or he might find out through other relatives that they’d been near but not stopped to see him. Consequently, Josh hardly knew this man who was supposed to take care of him for two days while his parents hurried to help friends whose house had burned the night before.
“Here it is.” His uncle was looking down at him as Josh made his way over the slippery grass, getting his new tennis shoes wet and muddy. His uncle smiled his large, slightly abnormal smile. “Look,” he said, as he swept his arm over the valley. To Josh it was just a green, rocky slope sliding down into fuzzy white mist. He turned his questioning look to his uncle. “The river’s over there,” Uncle Harvey said, “and, you can’t see from here, but over that hill is the town where your dad and I went to school.”
“Did you play basketball?” Josh asked.
“Not very well,” his uncle said. Your dad and I would play at the barn hoop until the ball landed in the manure pile and we’d fight about who had to go get it. That would end our playing. He laughed longer than Josh thought it was worth laughing about.
“I’ve got the sheep in the upper pasture. You want to see them up close and personal?” he said, chuckling to himself as he turned to lead the way. Josh followed along behind him and said quietly, “Sure.”
In ten minutes they arrived at the fence between fields and Uncle Harvey walked to the big gate to lean on it and look over the flock. He pointed “49 sheep out there. The sheep of his pasture. Ah, yes,” he looked at Josh, “the sheep of his pasture.”
“I thought it was your pasture,” Josh said, which caused Uncle Harvey another long laugh.
“Psalm 100, Joshua,” he said, as though assuming Josh knew what he was talking about. “You can see it all right here; and, well, you can hear it too.” He raised his voice, “Make a joyful noise to the Lord!”
Josh looked at him silently and Uncle Harvey realized that Josh didn’t know what he was talking about. “Psalm 100, one of my favorites. I always asked for it when I was a kid your age.” Again, he could tell Josh didn’t understand. “Don’t your parents read the Bible to you every morning at breakfast?”
“No,” Josh said, although his parents had occasionally sent him to Sunday School. His answer set off Uncle Harvey explaining what he meant. “Psalm 100 says we’re the Lord’s people and the sheep of his pasture. I’ve never been completely sure if that’s a compliment or an insult, but at least we belong to the Lord. And this,” he held his arms toward the flock, “is where I love to recite Psalm 100. Sheep of his pasture, sheep of his pasture.”
Josh listened politely as his parents had taught him. He still wasn’t sure he understood. Uncle Harvey responded to his puzzled look. “The great thing about the Psalm isn’t the sheep, but the Lord.” The best is the end: ‘For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.’ Get that about the generations? Your dad and I are one generation, you’re the next. The Lord’s goodness comes to us and then to you. Pretty good, huh?”
Uncle Harvey was a really happy person, and Josh couldn’t help but smile back to him.
“So this is the place that I make a joyful noise to the Lord. I come out here and worship the Lord with gladness and come into his presence with singing. Sometimes I just stand here for a while and yell, “‘Yay Lord!’ just like you do when someone wins a basketball game.” This made a little sense to Josh.
“Yay Lord!” his uncle bellowed toward the valley. “Can you hear that echoing from generation to generation, from me to you?”
Josh wagged his head slightly to mean he didn’t think so.
“Yay Lord!” he hollered again; but Josh still didn’t hear an echo or understand.
“Okay,” Uncle Harvey said. “Remember, the best is the end: the Lord’s love enduring forever. It means if you miss the last shot in the game and your team loses, the Lord forgives you. That’s what’s most important. How about if we go down to the barn hoop and you show me your jump shot. I’ll be there to keep the ball from bouncing into the manure pile. Josh smiled and turned toward the valley. He shouted, “Yay.” He cocked his head slightly and said, “I think I heard it that time.”
PREACHING POINT: Faith in the Lord is passed on from generation to generation -- and right to where we live.
Along with teaching World Religions and Ethics, David O. Bales also taught Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek. He was a pastor for 33 years, and has written four books and innumerable stories, sermons, and articles about the Bible and the Christian faith. His website is: dobales.com.
* * *
Having Compassion
by John Fitzgerald
Matthew 9:35-10:8, (9-23)
Here is what happened to one person as a result of a prayer vision: On the street I saw a small girl, cold and shivering in a thin dress, with little hope of a decent meal. I became angry and said to God: “Why did you permit this? Why don’t you do something about it?” For a while God said nothing. After a time He replied, “I certainly did something about it. I made you.”
The prayer vision illustrates that God’s compassion occurs when we take seriously that Jesus is working through us. We can be cold and callous towards God’s suffering children until the Lord speaks to us personally about someone. Compassion is the ability to take action when someone has moved our spirit.
If we lack compassion, then those wounded by the world pass right by us. Jesus pointed this out in a parable told about the Good Samaritan (Luke 10). The lesson of having compassion is reinforced by Jesus in our scripture reading for this morning.
At the end of Chapter 9, Matthew there is an account where Jesus meets many folks who are ill in villages where he traveled. The key verse here is 36: When he (Jesus) saw the crowds, he had compassion on them because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.
The Bible tells us that something inside Jesus moved when he encountered these desperate souls. He had compassion, the ability to reach out in God’s love for all those who were hurting. The question is, will we follow our Lord’s example? Will we have compassion for suffering individuals all around us? Or will we ignore, or worse yet, be critical of people bruised by life?
In the first eight verses of Matthew Chapter 10 there is a rendering of Jesus choosing his twelve disciples. It is revealing the instructions Christ gives these twelve when sent out into this world, Verse 8: Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give.
Compassion takes a variety of forms according to his verse. Healing the sick, driving out demons, and giving freely are attributes of God’s love. People can become physically ill, mentally challenged (demons), and cling to their own resources without sharing in giving fashion. Compassion breaks all of this down and allows suffering to be transformed by the presence of God.
We lived in a bruised and broken world. Only the compassion of Christ can change it. Will you be an agent for divine compassion?
John Fitzgerald lives in Leesburg, Ohio, with his wife Carolyn and has served as pastor at the Leesburg Friends Meeting for the past 27 years. Cornfield Cathedral (Fairway Press, 2013) is the second book authored by Pastor Fitzgerald. John has earned a Master's of Ministry Degree from the Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana.
*****************************************
StoryShare, June 18, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
"Most Improved" by David O. Bales
"Echoing Sheep" by David O. Bales
"Having Compassion" by John Fitzgerald
Most Improved
Genesis 18:1-15 (21:1-7)
By David O. Bales
In the teachers’ lounge at South Middle School the morning gossip and general world critique turned to Darrell Schmeling. “Old prune face,” one called him.
A teacher getting a soda from the refrigerator turned and said, “I saw him smile once, but I think he was getting paid.”
The assistant principal said, “Have you ever seen a squarer jaw?” to which another responded, “No, but this one is always clamped shut.”
“He’s just serious,” his team teacher in history said. “He’s always concentrating on something and he doesn’t hurt anybody. He doesn’t know how to be any other way.”
“Well, by 50,” the physical education teacher said, “you’d think he’d found something to do instead of reading giant tomes. He just plods silently along with his big books.”
Another teacher leaned into the group, “And I’ll bet if he were here ... heard everything you said ... he wouldn’t utter a word.”
The door knob turned and they all looked guiltily toward it; but, it wasn’t Darrell Schmeling, just Melanie from the office staff, talking with someone behind her as she slowly opened the door.
At Darrell’s church they were talking about him too. The ministry committee convened to sift through the church membership list to determine which gifts members had and which ministries they were performing. Pastor Sharon repeated her usual introduction, “I don’t care if they define their ministry as farmer, stockbroker or parent. As long as they understand that Christ has given them gifts in order to serve the church and the world.”
“Yes, we all know that,” James said as he took the copies of the membership list from the pastor’s hands. “Let’s get going.” His gift was leadership.
The six members and pastor studied the list the secretary had prepared. Person by person they discussed and suggested how people were serving or might serve. They narrowed the list to Darrell Schmeling. A ten minute discussion brought no good idea for Darrell. “He’s so quiet,” Jan said.
“So brainy,” another said.
After a long pause, James puckered his lips and said, “Let’s pray and wait for an answer.” So they did. Their prayer was their usual practice: each silently meditating and speaking to God in their own heart. Soon Ceciline said, “I’ve got it: middle school youth group advisor.”
“What?” the rest said in unison.
“No, I don’t think so,” James said.
“Yeah,” another said. “He’s so distant. I can’t imagine him with a youth group. It would take a miracle.”
Pastor Sharon said, “Let her talk. Let her talk.”
Ceciline stated that if Darrell were convinced to work with the middle school kids it would be for his sake as well as the group’s. “Serving others fulfills us,” she said. A couple still shook their heads and one sighed, but the idea had come from prayer and they all were willing to follow the Spirit’s leading -- whether they understood it or not.
James was delegated to visit Darrell that night and Darrell agreed. No discussion, just a quiet, “yes” to James’ request. He did blink and give a small gasp, however, when James told him that his first service would be with the middle school retreat next weekend. James reassured him, “It’s at a dandy retreat center. You’ll have a bed.”
Throughout the retreat Darrell proved a quick learner -- for being such an old person, as the middle school kids said. He took directions well and, even though the other leaders were concerned about his joining the organized craziness of the games, he did. Samuel, the youth pastor, had explained, “We play dignity destroying games. Everyone’s dignity is shattered, old and young alike, and we become just people together. It’s more than team-building. It’s getting closer to the image God put on us.”
In the learning groups Darrell shared, just as the students were asked to share, answering about what the Bible said and what it meant and how they felt God working in their lives. At 50 -- and with 30 extra pounds -- he usually lost at the game Scoot, Scoot! He was obviously embarrassed, but squeezed in with everyone when they played Sardines. He was huffing and puffing, but he held his own at Round Robin Ping Pong. He won hands down, however, at If You Love Me, Honey, Smile. No one could approach him in the circle and say to him, “If you love me, honey, smile” and provoke him to smile. With the coolness from deep within, he answered, “I love you, honey, but I can’t smile.”
Samuel watched Darrell wipe sweat off his face in the round robin tournament. At lunch he nudged him and said, “You’re doing great.”
The next Sunday during worship Samuel reported to the congregation about the middle school retreat. The middle school kids and their advisors sat in the three front rows and he announced that they would now bestow awards for the weekend. The students each received outlandish awards: longest in the bathroom, worst morning hair, most tears in the jeans. The congregation enjoyed the antics as much as the kids.
Then Samuel announced one more award. “Would Mr. Schmeling come up here.” The kids all clapped and yelled. He stood stone faced before the congregation. Samuel said to him, “Please turn side ways and face Joleen.” He did, and the middle school girl held up to the congregation a large page with the printed word, ‘SMILE.’” She handed it to Darrell and said, “Mr. Schmeling, I give you this award as Most Improved. Everyone laughed. “Now,” she said, looking grimly at him and leaning forward, “If you love me honey, smile.”
Darrell, without missed a breath, answered, “I love you honey, but I can’t smile.” Then Darrell Schmeling, 50 year old history teacher of the square jaw, 30 pounds overweight, and second runner up in the round robin ping pong tournament, laughed out loud.
PREACHING POINT: How do God’s miracles come into our lives -- especially if we seem too old to change?
* * *
Echoing Sheep
Psalm 100
By David O. Bales
“A little farther up here,” Uncle Harvey said, motioning Josh to catch up with him. Josh could see that the hill was becoming steeper and more difficult; and the grass was still wet and he almost stepped in sheep manure. This wasn’t turning out to be the kind of day his parents said it would.
Josh didn’t want to be climbing up this hillside with his uncle. He hadn’t wanted to be here at all. At 13 he’d hit a growth spurt and was suddenly taller than anyone in his class and he’d kept his coordination. Now all he could only think of was playing basketball. Everyday this summer he’d been meeting with friends to play basketball for half the day. He would only quit when no one would play any longer. Now he was stuck with his uncle, his “kind of strange,” uncle as his father described his brother.
Josh stopped on a small swatch of ground that wasn’t so wet or slippery. He looked up at his uncle, 20 yards ahead of him. He saw his uncle’s big, clumpy steps in boots that looked too big for his feet. He seemed almost wild in his awkward progress up the hill, throwing out his arms with each step.
“Joshua,” his uncle yelled, “come look.”
Josh had only been to his uncle’s farm a few times. His parents discussed that, if they were driving by the old farm, they’d better stop and see Harvey or he might find out through other relatives that they’d been near but not stopped to see him. Consequently, Josh hardly knew this man who was supposed to take care of him for two days while his parents hurried to help friends whose house had burned the night before.
“Here it is.” His uncle was looking down at him as Josh made his way over the slippery grass, getting his new tennis shoes wet and muddy. His uncle smiled his large, slightly abnormal smile. “Look,” he said, as he swept his arm over the valley. To Josh it was just a green, rocky slope sliding down into fuzzy white mist. He turned his questioning look to his uncle. “The river’s over there,” Uncle Harvey said, “and, you can’t see from here, but over that hill is the town where your dad and I went to school.”
“Did you play basketball?” Josh asked.
“Not very well,” his uncle said. Your dad and I would play at the barn hoop until the ball landed in the manure pile and we’d fight about who had to go get it. That would end our playing. He laughed longer than Josh thought it was worth laughing about.
“I’ve got the sheep in the upper pasture. You want to see them up close and personal?” he said, chuckling to himself as he turned to lead the way. Josh followed along behind him and said quietly, “Sure.”
In ten minutes they arrived at the fence between fields and Uncle Harvey walked to the big gate to lean on it and look over the flock. He pointed “49 sheep out there. The sheep of his pasture. Ah, yes,” he looked at Josh, “the sheep of his pasture.”
“I thought it was your pasture,” Josh said, which caused Uncle Harvey another long laugh.
“Psalm 100, Joshua,” he said, as though assuming Josh knew what he was talking about. “You can see it all right here; and, well, you can hear it too.” He raised his voice, “Make a joyful noise to the Lord!”
Josh looked at him silently and Uncle Harvey realized that Josh didn’t know what he was talking about. “Psalm 100, one of my favorites. I always asked for it when I was a kid your age.” Again, he could tell Josh didn’t understand. “Don’t your parents read the Bible to you every morning at breakfast?”
“No,” Josh said, although his parents had occasionally sent him to Sunday School. His answer set off Uncle Harvey explaining what he meant. “Psalm 100 says we’re the Lord’s people and the sheep of his pasture. I’ve never been completely sure if that’s a compliment or an insult, but at least we belong to the Lord. And this,” he held his arms toward the flock, “is where I love to recite Psalm 100. Sheep of his pasture, sheep of his pasture.”
Josh listened politely as his parents had taught him. He still wasn’t sure he understood. Uncle Harvey responded to his puzzled look. “The great thing about the Psalm isn’t the sheep, but the Lord.” The best is the end: ‘For the Lord is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations.’ Get that about the generations? Your dad and I are one generation, you’re the next. The Lord’s goodness comes to us and then to you. Pretty good, huh?”
Uncle Harvey was a really happy person, and Josh couldn’t help but smile back to him.
“So this is the place that I make a joyful noise to the Lord. I come out here and worship the Lord with gladness and come into his presence with singing. Sometimes I just stand here for a while and yell, “‘Yay Lord!’ just like you do when someone wins a basketball game.” This made a little sense to Josh.
“Yay Lord!” his uncle bellowed toward the valley. “Can you hear that echoing from generation to generation, from me to you?”
Josh wagged his head slightly to mean he didn’t think so.
“Yay Lord!” he hollered again; but Josh still didn’t hear an echo or understand.
“Okay,” Uncle Harvey said. “Remember, the best is the end: the Lord’s love enduring forever. It means if you miss the last shot in the game and your team loses, the Lord forgives you. That’s what’s most important. How about if we go down to the barn hoop and you show me your jump shot. I’ll be there to keep the ball from bouncing into the manure pile. Josh smiled and turned toward the valley. He shouted, “Yay.” He cocked his head slightly and said, “I think I heard it that time.”
PREACHING POINT: Faith in the Lord is passed on from generation to generation -- and right to where we live.
Along with teaching World Religions and Ethics, David O. Bales also taught Biblical Hebrew and Biblical Greek. He was a pastor for 33 years, and has written four books and innumerable stories, sermons, and articles about the Bible and the Christian faith. His website is: dobales.com.
* * *
Having Compassion
by John Fitzgerald
Matthew 9:35-10:8, (9-23)
Here is what happened to one person as a result of a prayer vision: On the street I saw a small girl, cold and shivering in a thin dress, with little hope of a decent meal. I became angry and said to God: “Why did you permit this? Why don’t you do something about it?” For a while God said nothing. After a time He replied, “I certainly did something about it. I made you.”
The prayer vision illustrates that God’s compassion occurs when we take seriously that Jesus is working through us. We can be cold and callous towards God’s suffering children until the Lord speaks to us personally about someone. Compassion is the ability to take action when someone has moved our spirit.
If we lack compassion, then those wounded by the world pass right by us. Jesus pointed this out in a parable told about the Good Samaritan (Luke 10). The lesson of having compassion is reinforced by Jesus in our scripture reading for this morning.
At the end of Chapter 9, Matthew there is an account where Jesus meets many folks who are ill in villages where he traveled. The key verse here is 36: When he (Jesus) saw the crowds, he had compassion on them because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.
The Bible tells us that something inside Jesus moved when he encountered these desperate souls. He had compassion, the ability to reach out in God’s love for all those who were hurting. The question is, will we follow our Lord’s example? Will we have compassion for suffering individuals all around us? Or will we ignore, or worse yet, be critical of people bruised by life?
In the first eight verses of Matthew Chapter 10 there is a rendering of Jesus choosing his twelve disciples. It is revealing the instructions Christ gives these twelve when sent out into this world, Verse 8: Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received, freely give.
Compassion takes a variety of forms according to his verse. Healing the sick, driving out demons, and giving freely are attributes of God’s love. People can become physically ill, mentally challenged (demons), and cling to their own resources without sharing in giving fashion. Compassion breaks all of this down and allows suffering to be transformed by the presence of God.
We lived in a bruised and broken world. Only the compassion of Christ can change it. Will you be an agent for divine compassion?
John Fitzgerald lives in Leesburg, Ohio, with his wife Carolyn and has served as pastor at the Leesburg Friends Meeting for the past 27 years. Cornfield Cathedral (Fairway Press, 2013) is the second book authored by Pastor Fitzgerald. John has earned a Master's of Ministry Degree from the Earlham School of Religion in Richmond, Indiana.
*****************************************
StoryShare, June 18, 2017, issue.
Copyright 2017 by CSS Publishing Company, Inc., Lima, Ohio.
All rights reserved. Subscribers to the StoryShare service may print and use this material as it was intended in sermons, in worship and classroom settings, in brief devotions, in radio spots, and as newsletter fillers. No additional permission is required from the publisher for such use by subscribers only. Inquiries should be addressed to permissions@csspub.com or to Permissions, CSS Publishing Company, Inc., 5450 N. Dixie Highway, Lima, Ohio 45807.
