Laat jou lewe aan die Here oor en vertrou op Hom; Hy sal sorg. Psalm 37 : 5.

Moenie die Here aanjaag nie. Is daar probleme wat vandag lyk asof hulle jou gaan vernietig? Môre kom jy dalk agter hulle help jou juis om geestelik te groei. Die Bybel herinner ons gedurig: wees geduldig wanneer jy swaarkry, seerkry of depressief raak. Die Vader sal jou alles gee wat jy ndoig het. Moet Hom nie aanjaag nie.

Here, dankie dat ons ons probleme aan U kan oorgee as dit lyk asof hulle ons gaan vernietig. Amen.

(MET GOD OP DIE LEWENSPAD. Max Lucado.)

what are your thoughts and feelings? do you think we will get it?

i do hope so will be a very nice outing to got with all my english friends

With Mugabe likely to be ousted at the next general elections, and a probable upturn in the fortunes of this much maligned country. it has to be a huge possible investment opportunity where property could be a good bet.

In the long term, as stability slowly returns, these properties must increase in value.

Mugabe has to go first, however..

Afternoon.....

I asked myself this question.....When did God become real for me?

I had to try and think back....I went to Sunday school....I grew up knowing folk talked about 'God', but I did not know Him. I married in a registery office as I never went to church....far too much to do in my life, setting up home, raising children, getting on with my life....no room for God.

But something begins to happen deep within and I do not remember when it began, or for how long but I knew there was something missing...a void was growing that I could not explain. I did not relate any of this to 'God' so I started to look into mediums, astrology, crystals and all sorts of 'new age' stuff. The problem was, the void got deeper and the search became more intense. Nothing answered my deepest questions....why am I here? what am I here for? and many many more unanswered questions.

Not having had a father, I could not relate to the idea of a Father, who cared for me. As far as I was concerened, Fathers were not to be trusted and they were absent.

So, when did God become real.....

When after attending church for 12 months searching for answers and at the invitation of a drug addict/alcoholic, I one day went forward to ask for Jesus to come into my life....I had not a clue what that really meant but I knew I wanted to give it a try and found myself flat on my back on the floor in front of over 1000 people...and on that day aged 46...God finally became real

:hooray: :hooray: :hooray:

HOPE ----------
by Max Lucado

The scene recorded in Luke 24:13-24 fascinates me-two sincere disciples
walking along the dusty road to Emmaus telling how the last nail has
been driven in Israel's coffin. God, in disguise, listens patiently,
his wounded hands buried deeply in his robe. He must have been touched
at the faithfulness of this pair. Yet he also must have been a bit
chagrined. He had just gone to hell and back to give heaven to earth,
and these two were worried about the political situation of Israel.

“But we had hoped that he was the one who was going to redeem Israel.”

But we had hoped Â… How often have you heard a phrase like that?

“We were hoping the doctor would release him.”

“I had hoped to pass the exam.”

“We had hoped the surgery would get all the tumor.”

Words painted gray with disappointment. What we wanted didn't come.
What came, we didn't want. The result? Shattered hope.

We trudge up the road to Emmaus dragging our sandals in the dust,
wondering what we did to deserve such a plight. “What kind of God would
let me down like this?”

You see, the problem with our two heavy-hearted friends was not a lack
of faith, but a lack of vision. Their petitions were limited to what
they could imagine-an earthly kingdom. Had God answered their prayer,
had he granted their hope, the Seven-Day War would have started two
thousand years earlier and Jesus would have spent the next forty years
training his apostles to be cabinet members. You have to wonder if
God's most merciful act is his refusal to answer some of our prayers.

Our problem is not so much that God doesn't give us what we hope for as
it is that we don't know the right thing for which to hope. (You may
want to read that sentence again.)

Hope is not what you expect; it is what you would never dream. It is a
wild, improbable tale with a pinch-me-I'm-dreaming ending. It's Abraham
adjusting his bifocals so he can see not his grandson, but his son.
It's Moses standing in the promised land not with Aaron or Miriam at
his side, but with Elijah and the transfigured Christ. And it is the
two Emmaus-bound pilgrims reaching out to take a piece of bread only to
see that the hands from which it is offered are pierced.

Europe went 1 hour ahead from Sunday 27th March

those who fall under this change can check their settings in their UserCP

go to Edit Options

then find

Date & Time Options

find >> DST Correction Option:

and make sure it is on >> Automatically detect DST settings

This should be there by default

Thank you

ForumAdmin

Have any of you read this series by Alexander McCall Smith??


I was given them on Monday and am already on my 3rd book! :read: :read:


They are about a lady called Precious Ramotswe, living in Botswana and they really a delightful read!


:thumbs:

I ran into a stranger as he passed by.
"Oh, excuse me please" was my reply.
He said, "Please excuse me too;
I wasn't even watching for you."
We were very polite, this stranger and I.
We went on our way and we said good-bye.
But at home a different story is told,
How we treat our loved ones, young and old.

Later that day, cooking the evening meal,
My daughter stood beside me very still.
When I turned, I nearly knocked her down.

"Move out of the way," I said with a frown.
She walked away, her little heart broken.
I didn't realize how harshly I'd spoken.

While I lay awake in bed,
God's still small voice came to me and said,
"While dealing with a stranger, common courtesy you use,
But the children you love, you seem to abuse.
Look on the kitchen floor,
You'll find some flowers there by the door.
Those are the flowers she brought for you.
She picked them herself, pink, yellow and blue.
She stood quietly not to spoil the surprise,
And you never saw the tears in her eyes."

By this time, I felt very small
And now my tears began to fall.
I quietly went and knelt by her bed;
"Wake up, little girl, wake up," I said.
"Are these the flowers you picked for me?"
She smiled, "I found 'em, out by the tree.
I picked 'em because they're pretty like you.
I knew you'd like 'em, especially the blue."

I said, "Daughter, I'm sorry for the way I acted today;
I shouldn't have yelled at you that way."
She said, "Oh, Mom, that's okay. I love you anyway."
I said, "Daughter, I love you too,
and I do like the flowers, especially the blue."

Are you aware that: If we die tomorrow, the company that we are working for could easily replace us in a matter of days. But the family we left behind will feel the loss for the rest of their lives. And come to think of it, we pour ourselves more into work than to our family - an unwise investment indeed.
Author Unknown

The baby is teething, the children are fighting, and my husband just called and said to eat dinner without him. Okay, one of these days youÂ’ll shout, "Why donÂ’t you grow up and act your age?"

. . . and they will.

Or, "You guys get outside and find yourself something to do and donÂ’t slam the door."

. . . and they wonÂ’t.

YouÂ’ll straighten up their bedrooms all neat and tidy with bumper stickers discarded, bed-spread tucked and smoothed, toys all displayed on the shelves, hangers in the closets, animals caged, and youÂ’ll say out loud, "Now I want you to stay this way!"

. . . and they will.

Then youÂ’ll prepare a perfect dinner with a salad that hasnÂ’t been picked to death, a cake with no finger traces through the frosting, and youÂ’ll say, "Now thereÂ’s a meal for company."

. . . but youÂ’ll eat it alone.

And youÂ’ll say, "I want complete privacy on the phone! No dancing around, no pantomimes, no demolition crews! Silence! Do you hear me?"

. . . and youÂ’ll have it.

No more plastic tablecloths stained with spaghetti, no more anxious nights under a vaporizer tent, no more dandelion bouquets, no more iron-on patches, no more wet-knotted shoe strings, no more tight boots, or rubber bands on pony tails.

Now, imagine your lipstick with a point. No baby sitter on New YearÂ’s Eve. Washing clothes only once a week. No PTA meetings, no car pools, no blaring radios, having your own roll of tape, no more Christmas presents made out of toothpicks and paste, no more wet-oatmeal kisses, no tooth fairy, no giggles in the dark, no knees to Band-aid.

Only a memory of a voice crying, "Why donÂ’t you grow up?"

And in the silence will come the echo, "I did."

All the Time in the World . . .
-Unknown

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground. "That's my son over there," she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.

"He's a fine looking boy," the man said. "That's my son on the swing in the blue sweater." Then, looking at his watch, he called to his son. "What do you say we go, Todd?"

Todd pleaded, "Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes." The man nodded and Todd continued to swing to his heart's content.

Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his son. "Time to go now?"

Again Todd pleaded, "Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes." The man smiled and said, "Okay."

"My, you certainly are a patient father," the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, "My older son Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I'd give anything for just five more minutes with him. I've vowed not to make the same mistake with Todd.

"He thinks he has five more minutes to swing. The truth is . . . I get five more minutes to watch him play."