Zion Lutheran Church Youth

Think About it

Son or Friend?

After a few of the usual Sunday evening hymns, the church's pastor once
again slowly stood up, walked over to the pulpit, and gave a very brief
introduction of his childhood friend.

With that, an elderly man stepped up to the pulpit to speak, "A father,
his son, and a friend of his son were sailing off the Pacific Coast," he
began, "when a fast approaching storm blocked any attempt to get back to
shore. The waves were so high, that even though the father was an
experienced sailor, he could not keep the boat upright, and the three
were swept into the ocean."

The old man hesitated for a moment, making eye contact with two
teenagers who were, for the first time since the service began,
looking somewhat interested in his story.

He continued, "Grabbing a rescue line, the father had to make the most
excruciating decision of his life....to which boy he would throw the
other end of the line. He only had seconds to make the decision. The
father knew that his son was a Christian, and he also knew that his
son's friend was not. The agony of his decision could not be matched
by the torrent of waves.

"As the father yelled out, 'I love you, son!' he threw the line to his
son's friend. By the time he pulled the friend back to the capsized
boat, his son had disappeared beyond the raging swells into the black of
night. His body was never recovered."

By this time, the two teenagers were sitting straighter in the pew,
waiting for the next words to come out of the old man's mouth.

"The father," he continued, "knew his son would step into eternity with
Jesus, and he could not bear the thought of his son's friend stepping
into an eternity without Jesus. Therefore, he sacrificed his son. How
great is the love of God that He should do the same for us."

With that, the old man turned and sat back down in his chair as silence
filled the room. Within minutes after the service ended, the two
teenagers were at the old man's side. "That was a nice story," politely
started one of the boys, "but I don't think it was very realistic for a
father to give up his son's life in hopes that the other boy would
become a Christian."

"Well, you've got a point there," the old man replied, glancing down at
his worn Bible. A big smile broadened his narrow face, and he once again
looked up at the boys and said, "It sure isn't very realistic, is it?
But I'm standing here today to tell you that THAT story gives me a
glimpse of what it must have been like for God to give up His Son for
me. You see.... I was the son's friend."

Best Friends

"Please stay," I begged.

Ann was my best friend, the only other girl in the neighborhood, and I
didn't want her to go.

She sat on my bed, her blue eyes blank.

"I'm bored," she said, slowly twirling her thick red pigtail around her
finger. She had come to play a half-hour ago.

"Please don't go," I pleaded. "Your mother said you could stay an hour."

Ann started to get up, then spotted a pair of miniature Indian moccasins on
my bedside table. With their bright-colored beads on buttery leather, the
moccasins were my most cherished possession.

"I'll stay if you'll give me those," Ann said.

I frowned. I couldn't imagine parting with the moccasins. "But Aunt Reba
gave them to me," I protested.

My aunt had been a beautiful, kind woman. I had really adored her. She was
never too busy to spend time with me. We made up silly stories and laughed
and laughed. The day she died, I cried under a blanket for hours, unable to
believe that I would never see her again. Now, when I cuddled the soft
moccasins in my hands, I was filled with fond memories of Aunt Reba.

"Come on," prodded Ann. "I'm your best friend." As if she needed to remind
me!

I don't know what came over me, but more than anything, I wanted someone to
play with me. I wanted someone to play with so much that I handed Ann the
moccasins!

After she stuffed them in her pocket, we rode our bikes up and down the
alley a few times. Soon it was time for her to go. Upset at what I had
done, I didn't feel like playing anyway.

I pleaded "not hungry" that evening and dragged off to bed without dinner.
Once up in my room, I began to really miss those moccasins!

When my mom had tucked me in and turned out the light, she asked me what
was wrong. Through my tears, I told her how I had betrayed Aunt Reba's
memory and how ashamed I felt.

Mom hugged me warmly, but all she could say was, "Well, I guess you'll have
to decide what to do."

Her words didn't seem to help. Alone in the dark, I began to think more
clearly. Kids? code says you don't give, then take back. But was it a fair
trade? Why did I let Ann toy with my feelings? But most off all, is Ann
really my best friend?

I decided what I would do. I tossed and turned all night, dreading
daylight.

At school the next day, I cornered Ann. I took a deep breath and asked for
the moccasins. Her eyes narrowed and she stared at me for a long time.

Please, I was thinking. Please.

"Okay," she said finally, producing the moccasins from her pocket. "I
didn't like them anyway." Relief washed over me like a wave.

After awhile, Ann and I stopped playing together. I discovered the
neighborhood boys weren't half-bad, especially when they asked me to play
softball. I even made girlfriends in other neighborhoods.

Through the years, I have had other best friends. But I have never again
begged for their company. I have come to understand that best friends are
people who want to spend time with you, and they ask nothing in return.

By Mary Beth Olson
from Chicken Soup for the Kid?s Soul
Copyright 1998 by Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen, Patty Hansen and Irene
Dunlap

Memo from God

"I am God. Today I will be handling all of your problems. Please
> remember that I do not need your help. If life happens to deliver a
> situation to you that you cannot handle, do not attempt to resolve it.
> Kindly put it in the SFGTD (something for God to do) box. It will be
> addressed in
> My time, not yours. Once the matter is placed into the box, do not hold
on to
> it or remove it. Holding on or removal will delay the resolution of your
> problem. If it is a situation that you think you are capable of
> handling, please consult me in prayer to be sure that it is the proper
> resolution.
> Because I do not sleep nor do I slumber, there is no need for you to
> lose any sleep. Rest my child. If you need to contact me, I am only a
prayer
> away."