No More Forsaken
Stories
Object:
A Story to Live By
No More Forsaken
You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you...
Isaiah 62:3-4
Caroline Myss writes in her book Sacred Contracts about a woman named Cindy who experienced a moment of grace while reading a newspaper story about two people who were soon to be married and how they had met.
"It was very romantic and it made me feel very lonely. I started to slip into that dark place of self-pity in which you tell yourself that none of that kind of magic ever happened to you. My thoughts drifted to my place in the divine scheme of life, and I decided I was a fairly insignificant player in this world. Then suddenly I had an insight that penetrated my body, mind, and spirit simultaneously. It was as if a spotlight had been turned on, making everything and everyone in my life shine as brightly as my eyes could handle. Even people I wasn't fond of looked lovely to me.... I was given a sort of life review in which I recalled every emotion I had ever had with each person in my life. At the end of the process I knew I would recognize that energy flowing in me for the rest of my life.... I was left with an indescribable sense of connection to God that made me feel that I had always been guided and that I was not alone."
(Caroline Myss, Sacred Contracts: Awakening Your Divine Potential, New York: Three Rivers Press, 2002, p. 28.)
Shining Moments
God Saves Humans and Animals Alike
by Wayne Frank
Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your judgments are like the great deep; you save humans and animals alike, O Lord.
Psalm 36:6
About four years ago, I was living alone in a big three-bedroom house on south Layton Boulevard on Milwaukee's south side. I was alone because I was divorced, and although I had a girlfriend, or more accurately a number of girlfriends, I preferred to live alone, with one exception -- my little black mongrel dog, Muffy.
Muffy had been born in that house about 14 years earlier. She was the runt of the litter, and either my wife or I frequently had to help her locate her mother's nipple in order for her to survive. We grew fond of her. Against my better judgment, I agreed to keep her, along with her mother, in the house. A few years later, my wife and I suffered through a painful divorce. Muffy's mother eventually had to be put to sleep in advanced old age, leaving Muffy and me alone. But we were buddies. Years passed. Muffy got older. She eventually went blind, lost all but two of her teeth, and then lost her hearing. When I came home I would pound on the walls so she could feel the vibrations throughout the house and know she was no longer alone, and come to the door to greet me. After a while she stopped coming to greet me and I had to carry her up from the basement for visits. She was confined to the basement because she was no longer capable of controlling herself. Still, I made a vow that as long as she was not in pain, I would take care of her with the hope that she might die peacefully at home. After all, she was my buddy. But it was not to be.
One day, I came home and could not find her in the basement. I looked seemingly everywhere. It was useless to shout. A second search found her in a dark corner, covered with cobwebs, staring vacantly at the wall. I knew she had been sitting like that for hours. I knew in an instant that it was the end; this was no longer a life, not any way to live for this little animal that had been my friend for so many years. I called the veterinarian to make arrangements for the next morning. I gave her a treat -- three soft meat dishes to choose from for supper. That night I went to bed with a very heavy heart, because of the vow I had made versus reality. Then, sometime after falling asleep, I awoke suddenly, first feeling sadness and then joy. I had dreamt that Muffy had died and I was kneeling in front of her sad little carcass of black fur. In my dream I was terribly saddened by her death and I was crying, when on my left I saw what I think was either a man or an angel in a white robe. I did not see his face, because he slowly pointed with his right hand and my gaze followed his hand. I turned and saw a white female dog with seven or eight very young puppies, all excitedly feeding, tails wagging, happy, happy, happy, as only puppies can be. They were white like their mother. Remember, Muffy was black. For some unexplained reason I called out Muffy's name, and one of the white puppies on the right raised its head, turned, and looked right at me. I knew that white puppy was Muffy, and that she had heard and recognized her name.
Wayne Frank is a Milwaukee native who served as an alderman from the city's south side for 27 years between 1973 and 2000. Currently he is a professional playwright, with four plays that have been produced in Milwaukee.
Good Stories
A Wedding Story
by John Sumwalt
On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine."
John 2:1-3
It was to be the wedding of the century at St. John's Church. The bride and the groom were both from prominent families in the congregation. Over 500 guests were expected, many of them church members. There were to be 14 attendants, not counting the miniature bride and groom and the three flower girls. The chancel choir would sing and a 9-piece orchestra had been retained to complement the church's magnificent pipe organ. The bride had chosen an antique white satin gown with a hand-embroidered train and veil, and her bridesmaids would wear tea-length rose satin gowns with chic little hats imported from Paris. The groom would be dressed in an ivory tuxedo with black cummerbund and bow tie, a top hat, tails, and a walking stick. His groomsmen would wear black tuxes with ivory ruffled shirts and rose bow ties and cummerbunds to match the bridesmaids' gowns. Flowers for the wedding were to be provided by Ellain's, the most prestigious florist in the city.
The bride and groom had agreed somewhat reluctantly to the "big church wedding," as they called it. They were not churchgoers, though both had been baptized and confirmed in the church. They had agreed to the "church wedding" for their parents' sakes, to keep peace in the family they told their friends -- and if they were to be completely honest with themselves, for sentimental reasons. They liked the old building. Their first kiss had been behind the boiler room door, under the stairs, at a Youth Fellowship lock-in.
The bride's mother had been particularly insistent that the wedding be held in the church, and was more than helpful in assisting with all of the plans. She paid special attention to the floral and catering arrangements, spending hours on the phone each day to be certain everything would be just right.
The great day came at last, and the first sign that everything was not going to be just right came at precisely 12:45, 15 minutes before the wedding was scheduled to begin. The mother of the bride rushed into the pastor's office and announced that the wedding would have to be delayed. Would the pastor please make an announcement to the congregation? The florist was late. There were no flowers for the bridal party or for the baskets on either side of the altar. They had called and called, but the line was busy. "I don't know what we're going to do!" the bride's mother said as she burst into tears. The pastor handed her a box of tissues, patted her on the shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, I'll make the announcement."
The pastor announced to the congregation at 12:55 that there would be a brief delay in the start of the wedding ceremony, and invited them to enjoy the beautiful music of the orchestra and the organ. Then he walked up the aisle, leaned over, and whispered in the ear of a large woman in a bright red dress. The woman got up and followed the pastor out of the sanctuary to the sacristy behind the chancel. The room was filled with flower arrangements left over from a funeral the day before. The pastor went back to his office to pray and the woman in the red dress closed the door of the sacristy and went to work.
The wedding started precisely at 1:45 p.m. with a flourish of horns and strings. The flower girls spread rose petals on the white aisle runner. The bride was radiant as she came down the aisle in her antique white satin gown with the hand-embroidered train and veil. The groom looked dashing in his ivory tuxedo and tails. The miniature groom loudly announced the need for a potty break about midway through the ceremony, and was whisked out and back by his mortified mother; one of the groomsmen nearly fainted from the heat, but all in all it was one of the grandest weddings ever held in old St. John's Church. The flowers were magnificent, everyone said: the most lovely they had ever seen. Who was the florist who had done such fine work?
About three weeks after the wedding, the woman in red received a note from the bride and groom, inviting her to come to dinner. The next Sunday they were all in worship together, the woman in red and the newlyweds, who had decided sometime during all the hoopla of the wedding and the honeymoon that it was time to come back to church.
Scrap Pile
Jesus Loves Rocky Dumar, Too
by Jo Perry-Sumwalt
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you...
Isaiah 43:1-2a
The new young pastor of Lake Bluff Christian Church had seen the man on the streets of the town frequently. In the first busy weeks of his new pastorate, he hadn't taken the time to inquire about him. But when he discovered that the man sat quietly on the steps outside the church every Sunday, listening, he was determined to find out about him.
"Oh, that's Rocky Dumar," the secretary replied when he inquired on Monday morning. "His mother is a member, but she hasn't come to church for many years. She's a shut-in now. Rocky just likes to listen to the music."
"But why doesn't he come inside?" the pastor asked.
"I don't know. I've been here for ten years and I've never seen him 'in' a worship service. Why don't you ask him?"
The next Sunday, as he took his place at the rear of the sanctuary, waiting to process behind the choir, the pastor peeked out the door. There, on the top step, sat Rocky Dumar.
"Good morning, Rocky," the pastor said. There was no surprise on the round face that turned toward him, just a smile. His narrow blue eyes and slightly protruding tongue indicated Down's Syndrome.
"Good morning," Rocky answered softly.
"Why don't you come inside and join us for the service?"
He shook his head. "I can't come in. I'm not baptized."
Although the pastor was surprised and puzzled by Rocky's response, the opening chords of the processional hymn signaled an end to their conversation for the moment. "Well, you're welcome to come in any time, Rocky. I'm glad you're here," the pastor said, and turned to enter the service.
It was more than a week before the busy work of settling in allowed the pastor to pursue the puzzle of Rocky Dumar's reluctance to enter the church.
"That's an old, long story," the chair of the parish board said when she was questioned on the subject. "When Rocky was about twelve or thirteen his mother wanted him to be baptized and confirmed, like the other youngsters. There were a lot of strange ideas back then about retarded people. His parents hadn't even tried to have Rocky baptized as a baby, but when she saw how well he turned out, and how much he loved the church services, his mother wanted him to become a member. The pastor and the elders back then refused, saying Rocky could attend the class and be baptized, but he wasn't ever going to understand enough to become a member. They wouldn't allow him to come into a position where he could vote and take communion. Of course, back then women couldn't vote either! Rocky is two or three years older than me, so this was a ways back. My mother would never have dreamed that I would someday be parish board chair! But there are some here who would still hold onto those old ideas in regard to Rocky."
"What about his mother?"
"Oh, she retained her membership, but she and Rocky stopped coming to worship. She's pretty crippled up with arthritis now, and doesn't get out of the house much, but it was protest over Rocky's not being confirmed that made her stay away. She never let him be baptized, either. That must be where he got the idea that that was why he couldn't come into the church anymore. But Rocky always loved the music. He's come almost every Sunday, all these years. He wears his good bib overalls and sits on the steps to listen to the service, even in winter. But after they refused to confirm him, he's never come in."
The young pastor did a lot more visiting with people on the subject of Rocky. Although he was careful to work it in casually in other conversations, so as not to make it a big deal, rumor began to spread that something was up. Those who disapproved made it known in their subtle ways, but he began to form a plan on how to get Rocky Dumar inside the church. The most vital information came from Rocky's mother and Rocky himself. By spring, just before confirmation time, and after a lot of prayer, the pastor knew what to do.
Many of the older members of the church were surprised when Ella Dumar made her way slowly across the front of the sanctuary from the side door on Confirmation Sunday. An usher helped her into the front pew with the confirmation families. And after the confirmation class rose to stand before the congregation, the pastor looked expectantly toward the rear of the sanctuary and said, "Okay, Rocky, you can come in now."
Rocky Dumar walked down the center aisle of the sanctuary in his good bib overalls, his baseball cap in his hands. He took his place in the confirmation line, his gray hair and size sharply contrasting with the rest of the class. The pastor proceeded to question the students on their catechism, and they answered... some well, and some not so well. Rocky stood quietly, turning his cap in his hands and waiting.
At last the pastor said, "One member of this new group of confirmands is long overdue for this ceremony. Rocky Dumar received his confirmation training in 1941, but he's been brushing up this last couple of weeks with the rest of this class. Rocky needs to be baptized before he's confirmed, and I want to ask him one question before we proceed."
The pastor motioned Rocky forward and turned him to face the congregation. "Rocky Dumar, what does baptism mean?"
Although his speech was thick and a little slow, Rocky's voice was strong and sure when he answered, "Jesus loves the little children. All the children of the world. Jesus loves Rocky Dumar, too."
Then, with his mother's eyes shining on him in pride, Rocky Dumar was baptized and confirmed as a full member of Lake Bluff Christian Church. And all of God's people said, "Amen."
From the StoryShare Archives -- this story originally appeared in the Epiphany 2 edition of StoryShare in 2003.
**************
StoryShare, January 18, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 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., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
No More Forsaken
You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the Lord, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate; but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you...
Isaiah 62:3-4
Caroline Myss writes in her book Sacred Contracts about a woman named Cindy who experienced a moment of grace while reading a newspaper story about two people who were soon to be married and how they had met.
"It was very romantic and it made me feel very lonely. I started to slip into that dark place of self-pity in which you tell yourself that none of that kind of magic ever happened to you. My thoughts drifted to my place in the divine scheme of life, and I decided I was a fairly insignificant player in this world. Then suddenly I had an insight that penetrated my body, mind, and spirit simultaneously. It was as if a spotlight had been turned on, making everything and everyone in my life shine as brightly as my eyes could handle. Even people I wasn't fond of looked lovely to me.... I was given a sort of life review in which I recalled every emotion I had ever had with each person in my life. At the end of the process I knew I would recognize that energy flowing in me for the rest of my life.... I was left with an indescribable sense of connection to God that made me feel that I had always been guided and that I was not alone."
(Caroline Myss, Sacred Contracts: Awakening Your Divine Potential, New York: Three Rivers Press, 2002, p. 28.)
Shining Moments
God Saves Humans and Animals Alike
by Wayne Frank
Your righteousness is like the mighty mountains, your judgments are like the great deep; you save humans and animals alike, O Lord.
Psalm 36:6
About four years ago, I was living alone in a big three-bedroom house on south Layton Boulevard on Milwaukee's south side. I was alone because I was divorced, and although I had a girlfriend, or more accurately a number of girlfriends, I preferred to live alone, with one exception -- my little black mongrel dog, Muffy.
Muffy had been born in that house about 14 years earlier. She was the runt of the litter, and either my wife or I frequently had to help her locate her mother's nipple in order for her to survive. We grew fond of her. Against my better judgment, I agreed to keep her, along with her mother, in the house. A few years later, my wife and I suffered through a painful divorce. Muffy's mother eventually had to be put to sleep in advanced old age, leaving Muffy and me alone. But we were buddies. Years passed. Muffy got older. She eventually went blind, lost all but two of her teeth, and then lost her hearing. When I came home I would pound on the walls so she could feel the vibrations throughout the house and know she was no longer alone, and come to the door to greet me. After a while she stopped coming to greet me and I had to carry her up from the basement for visits. She was confined to the basement because she was no longer capable of controlling herself. Still, I made a vow that as long as she was not in pain, I would take care of her with the hope that she might die peacefully at home. After all, she was my buddy. But it was not to be.
One day, I came home and could not find her in the basement. I looked seemingly everywhere. It was useless to shout. A second search found her in a dark corner, covered with cobwebs, staring vacantly at the wall. I knew she had been sitting like that for hours. I knew in an instant that it was the end; this was no longer a life, not any way to live for this little animal that had been my friend for so many years. I called the veterinarian to make arrangements for the next morning. I gave her a treat -- three soft meat dishes to choose from for supper. That night I went to bed with a very heavy heart, because of the vow I had made versus reality. Then, sometime after falling asleep, I awoke suddenly, first feeling sadness and then joy. I had dreamt that Muffy had died and I was kneeling in front of her sad little carcass of black fur. In my dream I was terribly saddened by her death and I was crying, when on my left I saw what I think was either a man or an angel in a white robe. I did not see his face, because he slowly pointed with his right hand and my gaze followed his hand. I turned and saw a white female dog with seven or eight very young puppies, all excitedly feeding, tails wagging, happy, happy, happy, as only puppies can be. They were white like their mother. Remember, Muffy was black. For some unexplained reason I called out Muffy's name, and one of the white puppies on the right raised its head, turned, and looked right at me. I knew that white puppy was Muffy, and that she had heard and recognized her name.
Wayne Frank is a Milwaukee native who served as an alderman from the city's south side for 27 years between 1973 and 2000. Currently he is a professional playwright, with four plays that have been produced in Milwaukee.
Good Stories
A Wedding Story
by John Sumwalt
On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there. Jesus and his disciples had also been invited to the wedding. When the wine gave out, the mother of Jesus said to him, "They have no wine."
John 2:1-3
It was to be the wedding of the century at St. John's Church. The bride and the groom were both from prominent families in the congregation. Over 500 guests were expected, many of them church members. There were to be 14 attendants, not counting the miniature bride and groom and the three flower girls. The chancel choir would sing and a 9-piece orchestra had been retained to complement the church's magnificent pipe organ. The bride had chosen an antique white satin gown with a hand-embroidered train and veil, and her bridesmaids would wear tea-length rose satin gowns with chic little hats imported from Paris. The groom would be dressed in an ivory tuxedo with black cummerbund and bow tie, a top hat, tails, and a walking stick. His groomsmen would wear black tuxes with ivory ruffled shirts and rose bow ties and cummerbunds to match the bridesmaids' gowns. Flowers for the wedding were to be provided by Ellain's, the most prestigious florist in the city.
The bride and groom had agreed somewhat reluctantly to the "big church wedding," as they called it. They were not churchgoers, though both had been baptized and confirmed in the church. They had agreed to the "church wedding" for their parents' sakes, to keep peace in the family they told their friends -- and if they were to be completely honest with themselves, for sentimental reasons. They liked the old building. Their first kiss had been behind the boiler room door, under the stairs, at a Youth Fellowship lock-in.
The bride's mother had been particularly insistent that the wedding be held in the church, and was more than helpful in assisting with all of the plans. She paid special attention to the floral and catering arrangements, spending hours on the phone each day to be certain everything would be just right.
The great day came at last, and the first sign that everything was not going to be just right came at precisely 12:45, 15 minutes before the wedding was scheduled to begin. The mother of the bride rushed into the pastor's office and announced that the wedding would have to be delayed. Would the pastor please make an announcement to the congregation? The florist was late. There were no flowers for the bridal party or for the baskets on either side of the altar. They had called and called, but the line was busy. "I don't know what we're going to do!" the bride's mother said as she burst into tears. The pastor handed her a box of tissues, patted her on the shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, I'll make the announcement."
The pastor announced to the congregation at 12:55 that there would be a brief delay in the start of the wedding ceremony, and invited them to enjoy the beautiful music of the orchestra and the organ. Then he walked up the aisle, leaned over, and whispered in the ear of a large woman in a bright red dress. The woman got up and followed the pastor out of the sanctuary to the sacristy behind the chancel. The room was filled with flower arrangements left over from a funeral the day before. The pastor went back to his office to pray and the woman in the red dress closed the door of the sacristy and went to work.
The wedding started precisely at 1:45 p.m. with a flourish of horns and strings. The flower girls spread rose petals on the white aisle runner. The bride was radiant as she came down the aisle in her antique white satin gown with the hand-embroidered train and veil. The groom looked dashing in his ivory tuxedo and tails. The miniature groom loudly announced the need for a potty break about midway through the ceremony, and was whisked out and back by his mortified mother; one of the groomsmen nearly fainted from the heat, but all in all it was one of the grandest weddings ever held in old St. John's Church. The flowers were magnificent, everyone said: the most lovely they had ever seen. Who was the florist who had done such fine work?
About three weeks after the wedding, the woman in red received a note from the bride and groom, inviting her to come to dinner. The next Sunday they were all in worship together, the woman in red and the newlyweds, who had decided sometime during all the hoopla of the wedding and the honeymoon that it was time to come back to church.
Scrap Pile
Jesus Loves Rocky Dumar, Too
by Jo Perry-Sumwalt
But now thus says the Lord, he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you...
Isaiah 43:1-2a
The new young pastor of Lake Bluff Christian Church had seen the man on the streets of the town frequently. In the first busy weeks of his new pastorate, he hadn't taken the time to inquire about him. But when he discovered that the man sat quietly on the steps outside the church every Sunday, listening, he was determined to find out about him.
"Oh, that's Rocky Dumar," the secretary replied when he inquired on Monday morning. "His mother is a member, but she hasn't come to church for many years. She's a shut-in now. Rocky just likes to listen to the music."
"But why doesn't he come inside?" the pastor asked.
"I don't know. I've been here for ten years and I've never seen him 'in' a worship service. Why don't you ask him?"
The next Sunday, as he took his place at the rear of the sanctuary, waiting to process behind the choir, the pastor peeked out the door. There, on the top step, sat Rocky Dumar.
"Good morning, Rocky," the pastor said. There was no surprise on the round face that turned toward him, just a smile. His narrow blue eyes and slightly protruding tongue indicated Down's Syndrome.
"Good morning," Rocky answered softly.
"Why don't you come inside and join us for the service?"
He shook his head. "I can't come in. I'm not baptized."
Although the pastor was surprised and puzzled by Rocky's response, the opening chords of the processional hymn signaled an end to their conversation for the moment. "Well, you're welcome to come in any time, Rocky. I'm glad you're here," the pastor said, and turned to enter the service.
It was more than a week before the busy work of settling in allowed the pastor to pursue the puzzle of Rocky Dumar's reluctance to enter the church.
"That's an old, long story," the chair of the parish board said when she was questioned on the subject. "When Rocky was about twelve or thirteen his mother wanted him to be baptized and confirmed, like the other youngsters. There were a lot of strange ideas back then about retarded people. His parents hadn't even tried to have Rocky baptized as a baby, but when she saw how well he turned out, and how much he loved the church services, his mother wanted him to become a member. The pastor and the elders back then refused, saying Rocky could attend the class and be baptized, but he wasn't ever going to understand enough to become a member. They wouldn't allow him to come into a position where he could vote and take communion. Of course, back then women couldn't vote either! Rocky is two or three years older than me, so this was a ways back. My mother would never have dreamed that I would someday be parish board chair! But there are some here who would still hold onto those old ideas in regard to Rocky."
"What about his mother?"
"Oh, she retained her membership, but she and Rocky stopped coming to worship. She's pretty crippled up with arthritis now, and doesn't get out of the house much, but it was protest over Rocky's not being confirmed that made her stay away. She never let him be baptized, either. That must be where he got the idea that that was why he couldn't come into the church anymore. But Rocky always loved the music. He's come almost every Sunday, all these years. He wears his good bib overalls and sits on the steps to listen to the service, even in winter. But after they refused to confirm him, he's never come in."
The young pastor did a lot more visiting with people on the subject of Rocky. Although he was careful to work it in casually in other conversations, so as not to make it a big deal, rumor began to spread that something was up. Those who disapproved made it known in their subtle ways, but he began to form a plan on how to get Rocky Dumar inside the church. The most vital information came from Rocky's mother and Rocky himself. By spring, just before confirmation time, and after a lot of prayer, the pastor knew what to do.
Many of the older members of the church were surprised when Ella Dumar made her way slowly across the front of the sanctuary from the side door on Confirmation Sunday. An usher helped her into the front pew with the confirmation families. And after the confirmation class rose to stand before the congregation, the pastor looked expectantly toward the rear of the sanctuary and said, "Okay, Rocky, you can come in now."
Rocky Dumar walked down the center aisle of the sanctuary in his good bib overalls, his baseball cap in his hands. He took his place in the confirmation line, his gray hair and size sharply contrasting with the rest of the class. The pastor proceeded to question the students on their catechism, and they answered... some well, and some not so well. Rocky stood quietly, turning his cap in his hands and waiting.
At last the pastor said, "One member of this new group of confirmands is long overdue for this ceremony. Rocky Dumar received his confirmation training in 1941, but he's been brushing up this last couple of weeks with the rest of this class. Rocky needs to be baptized before he's confirmed, and I want to ask him one question before we proceed."
The pastor motioned Rocky forward and turned him to face the congregation. "Rocky Dumar, what does baptism mean?"
Although his speech was thick and a little slow, Rocky's voice was strong and sure when he answered, "Jesus loves the little children. All the children of the world. Jesus loves Rocky Dumar, too."
Then, with his mother's eyes shining on him in pride, Rocky Dumar was baptized and confirmed as a full member of Lake Bluff Christian Church. And all of God's people said, "Amen."
From the StoryShare Archives -- this story originally appeared in the Epiphany 2 edition of StoryShare in 2003.
**************
StoryShare, January 18, 2004, issue.
Copyright 2004 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., P.O. Box 4503, Lima, Ohio 45802-4503.
