page 2 opwci herald “gecko” god envisioned creation ... · opwci herald my dear family and...

OPWCI Herald

My Dear Family and Friends,

Everyone knows the seasons of the year have a lot of variation depending on where you live. In the far north, the days of summer are bathed with endless light. In the tropics, the weather only varies with the amount of rainfall that might come during certain seasons.

Here in Florida, we are absolutely blessed with warm weather year round! The summer can be a bit hot at times but it is always beautiful. For many, spring is the favorite. The tulips pop, the grass greens, and the trees begin to speak to us about

the hope of resurrection as they gain leaves and start to provide the blessings of shade. We all know that the mid-summer temperatures can make you glad you have air conditioning late at night! But that soon fades into beautiful blue skies, soft afternoon showers, and evenings that seem to go on forever. Personally, fall is my favorite. The evenings get cool but the days are bright and warm. Up north, the trees find their new place on the color wheel and the rhythms of life begin to change.

Seasons are important to the tempo of our souls as well. We discover seasons of growth, times of renewal, and themes that shift our attention forming a circle of seasons. Throughout time, the circle has been a symbol of completeness. It has also been a way people have represented interpersonal connections. You can imagine two circles that intersect and overlap as a way of saying ‘my life is connected to yours’ in a spirit of hope. If you take three circles and interlink them together, you will have the universal Christian symbol for the Trinity. The three circles represent the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and the desire of God to interact and intersect with our lives. I call this the Circle of Love!

This Holiday Season, reach out to someone and pull them into your Circle of Love and see the glory of God shine through you!

I love you, love you, love you!

“To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven...What profit has the worker from that in which he labors? I have seen the God-given task with which the sons of men are to be occupied. He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end.”

Pastor Naomi Futch

Inside this issue:

"GECKO" God Envisioned Creation Knowledge Observed

- by Dr Linda Stiles

2

Ark Building in the 21st Century - by Pastor Betty Carter

3

Why Does God Allow Deception? - submitted by Pastor Bill Gentry

4

The Genesis of the Doughnut Club - submitted by Pastor Cate Green

6

Memories of Christmases Past - by Pastor Earl Green

11

A Donkey’s Story - by Pastor Cate Green

13

A Fond Farewell from the Editor 15

AUTUMN QUARTERLY MAGAZINEQUARTERLY MAGAZINEQUARTERLY MAGAZINE 2016

Pastors Dr Roy G and Naomi Futch

— Ecclesiastes 3:1, 9-11

“GECKO” God Envisioned Creation Knowledge Observed by Dr Linda Stiles

I was sitting outside today looking out over our lake observing the numerous geckos running around to and fro all over our porch. Their skin was in different colors and so I begin to ask the Lord what a gecko really is and what did He want us to learn from them? First of all, geckos are lizards belonging to the infraorder gekkota found in warm climates throughout

the world. They range from 1.6 to 60 centimeters, or another words 2/3 inch to 24 inches. I never thought of a gecko being 2 feet long! Most geckos cannot blink. We humans blink a lot. We cleanse our eyes by blinking. Also, when we change our minds, we blink. God tells us in the Scriptures that our eyes are gateways to our soul; in other words to our mind, our will and our emotions. We as human beings were given a soul by the Almighty Creator God. Geckos can't blink, but we can! We can turn away from sinful messages coming through our eye gates simply by associating a blink with a thought and asking Jesus to change that thought to His Word. For example; if you're fearful, there's a thought behind it. Replace that fearful

thought with the scripture Isaiah 41:10 "Fear thou not for I am with you. Neither be dismayed for I am your God. I will uphold thee, I will lift thee up, I will strengthen thee with the right hand of my righteousness."

We can learn so much from observing God's creation! One blessing of creation that the gecko has something we do not; is excellent night vision. Their color vision is 350 times more sensitive than human color vision! That amazing ability is how they can see into the darkness! When we are born again, the Holy

Spirit becomes our color vision. God gave us the Holy Spirit and His Word to help us see into the night, or darkness, of our lives. And for this world, He gave us His Word. He also gave us Holy spirit to help us understand His Word, thus giving us the power to see into the night, to see into the darkness of this world. By looking into the darkness in our lives, we can replace it with His truth, His life and His word. Praise God and His creation!

Dr. Linda Stiles

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It is the year 2015 and Noah lives in the United States. The Lord speaks to Noah and says, “In one year I am going to make it rain and cover the whole earth with water until all is destroyed.

But I want you to save the righteous people and two of every kind of living thing on the earth. Therefore I am commanding you to build an ark.” In a flash of lightning, God delivered the specifications for an Ark. Remember, said the Lord, “you must complete the ark and bring everything aboard in one year.”

Exactly one year later a fierce storm cloud covered the earth, and all the seas of the earth went into tumult. The Lord saw Noah sitting in his front yard weeping.

“Noah,” he shouted. “Where is the Ark?” “Lord please forgive me” cried Noah. “I did my best, but there were big problems. First, I had to get a permit for construction and your plans did not comply with the codes. I had to hire an engineering firm and redraw the plans. Then I got into fight with OSHA over whether or not the Ark needed a fire sprinkler system and floatation devices. Then my neighbor objected, claiming I was violating zoning ordinances by building the

Ark in my front yard, so I had to get a variance from the city planning commission. I had problems getting enough wood for the Ark, because there was a ban on cutting trees to protect the spotted owl. I finally convinced the U.S. Forest Service that I needed the wood to save the owls.

However, the Fish and Wildlife Service won’t let me catch any owls. So, no owls.

The carpenters formed a union and went on strike. I had to negotiate a settlement with the National Labor Union. Now I have 16 carpenters on the Ark, but still no owls.

When I started rounding up the other animals, I got

sued by an animal rights group. They objected to me only taking two of each kind on board. Just when I got the suit dismissed, the EPA notified me that I could not complete the Ark without filing an environmental impact statement on your proposed flood. They didn’t take very kindly to the idea that they had no jurisdiction over the conduct of the Creator of the universe.

Then the Army Corps of Engineers demanded a map of the proposed new flood plain. I sent them a globe. Right now I am trying to

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Ark Building in the 21st Century by Pastor Betty Carter resolve a complaint filed with the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission that I am practicing discrimination by not taking godless, unbelieving people aboard. I just got a notice from the state that I owe some kind of user tax and failed to register the Ark as a recreational water craft. Finally the ACLU got the courts to issue an injunction against further construction of the Ark, saying that since God is flooding the earth, it is a religious event and therefore unconstitutional.

I really don’t think I can finish the Ark for another 5 or 6 years, Noah wailed. The sky began to clear, the sun began to shine, and the seas began to calm. A rainbow arched

across the sky. Noah looked up hopefully. “You mean you’re not going to destroy the earth, Lord?”

“No”, the Lord said sadly. “The government already has.”

This is a sad story for sure. But remember it when you go to vote! I hope you are registered and have exercised that right. We need a government with less power than it now has. One that does not come against our Christian beliefs and attempts to keep us from obeying what God has told us to do. I urge you to Pray, Be informed on the issues, and then vote in ALL the elections!

Noah continued

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Why Does God Allow Deception? submitted by Pastor Bill Gentry

God’s desire is that all people repent and be saved (2 Peter 3:9). At the same time, Satan, the “father of lies” (John 8:44), deceives the very people who need to accept the truth. “The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ” (2 Corinthians 4:4). Surely, God could stop Satan’s lies and give people a fighting chance.

The Bible presents a consistent picture of how sin and deception are related. What’s revealed is that the way we tend to think of deceit is, well, a bit deceived. Spiritually speaking, deception is deeper than merely being tricked or lied to. In order to be saved, one does not need any particular level of intelligence, philosophical ability, or wisdom (Galatians 3:28; 1 Corinthians 1:20, 26). In fact, mankind has an unfortunate habit of using increased knowledge to develop more sophisticated ways to sin.

The key to understanding spiritual deception is the fact that we often choose what we want to believe rather than what we should believe, even in the face of the evidence (Luke 16:31). “Even after Jesus had done all these miraculous signs in their presence, they still would not believe in him” (John 12:37). Notice that they would not believe Jesus, despite the miracles. Their unbelief was willful.

Eve is the earliest, clearest example of how spiritual deception really works. When the serpent asks her, “Did God really say…,” Eve responds by quoting what God had said (Genesis 3:1-3). She knows what to do and what not to do. The serpent then tempts her with what she can gain by eating from the tree (Genesis 3:4-5), and she notices other attractive aspects of the fruit (Genesis 3:6). Eve was lied to, and the serpent was cunning

brim with enthusiasm and splendid ideas. I knew Carleton was bound to grow into a magnificent city, and I wanted to be there and see it grow and watch it develop; and I loved the whole big, breezy golden west, with the rush and tingle of its young life. And, more than all, I loved my boys, and what I was going to do without them or they without me was more than I knew, though I tried to think Providence might know.

But there was no place in Carleton for me; the only thing to do was to go back east, and I knew that all the time, even when I was desperately praying that I might find a way to remain. There's not much comfort, or help either, praying one way and believing another.

I'd lived down east in Northfield all my life—until five years ago—lived with my brother William and his wife. Northfield was a little pinched-up village where everybody knew more about you than you did about yourself, and you couldn't turn around without being commented upon. William and Susanna were kind to me, but I was just the old maid sister, of no importance to anybody, and I never felt as if I were really living. I was simply vegetating on, and wouldn't be missed by a single soul if I died. It is a horrible feeling, but I didn't expect it would ever be any different, and I had made up my mind that when I died I would have the word "Wasted" carved on my tombstone. It wouldn't be conventional at all, but I'd been conventional all my life, and I was determined I'd have something done out of the common even if I had to wait until I was dead to have it.

Then all at once the letter came from John Henry, my brother out west. He wrote that his wife had died and he wanted me to go out and keep house for him. I sat right down and wrote him I'd go and in a week's time I started.

I found this tale while perusing the Net in search of interesting Thanksgiving stories. You may recognize Lucy Maud Montgomery as the Canadian author who penned the series “Anne of Green Gables” —Pastor Cate Green

When John Henry died there seemed to be nothing for me to do but pack up and go back east. I didn't want to do it, but forty-five years of sojourning in this world have taught me that a body has to do a good many things she doesn't want to do, and that most of them turn out to be for the best in the long run. But I knew perfectly well that it wasn't best for me or anybody else that I should go back to live with William and Susanna, and I couldn't think what Providence was about when things seemed to point that way.

I wanted to stay in Carleton. I loved the big, straggling, bustling little town that always reminded me of a lanky, overgrown schoolboy, all arms and legs, but full to the Continued on next page

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The Genesis of the Doughnut Club by Lucy Maud Montgomery (2 Corinthians 11:3), but she ultimately chose to disobey God, even though she could quote the commandment.

When confronted with her sin, Eve said, “The serpent deceived me, and I ate” (Genesis 3:13b). The original Hebrew word for “deceived” implies trickery and craftiness; it is sometimes translated “seduced.” Seduction is an appropriate way to think of the deception of Eve—she knew full well what God had said, but she chose to disobey because she wanted something that the serpent cleverly offered.

The same dynamic is at work today. People who reject God do so because, in some way, they don't really want to obey Him. We are tempted by our “own evil desire” first (James 1:14). That’s not to say every unbeliever is blatantly and spitefully turning from what is known to be true. But the unbeliever’s desire for self-satisfaction makes Satan’s deception all the more potent.

God has sent the Savior (John 3:16), He fills the world with signs of Himself (Romans 1:20), He makes Himself available to those who seek Him (Deuteronomy 4:29), and He secures anyone who comes to Him (John 6:37). When men reject what is “clearly seen” of God (Romans 1:20), it leads to a downward spiral of “foolish hearts” made dark (verse 21), idolatry (verse 22), and sexual impurity (verse 24). Finally, mankind “exchanged the truth of God for a lie” (verse 25). In other words, the spiritual deception of mankind is the direct result of rejecting truth once held. The unbeliever has made an exchange—the truth for a lie—and the devil is happy to facilitate the swap by presenting the sinner with a wide array of lies from

which to choose.

Anyone who resists God risks falling into spiritual deception (2 Thessalonians 2:8-10). Nature abhors a vacuum, and the void created by the eviction of truth will soon be filled by something less than true. Give up the truth, and you’ll believe just about anything.

Eve didn’t sin because she was hopelessly outmatched by a demonic force, making her do wrong when she thought she was doing right. Yes, she was lied to, but she chose to listen to the lie. That was followed by her longing look at what was forbidden and, finally, her taking the fruit in hopes of a better life.

All human sin is based in human choice (1 Corinthians 10:13). When we reject the truth, we make ourselves vulnerable to the lie. Repeated rejection of spiritual truth brings spiritual deception as a divine consequence.

God allows spiritual deception as a form of punishment for willful sin, and in order to cultivate an awareness in our lives of how badly we need the One who is Himself Truth, our Lord Jesus Christ (John 14:6).

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Deception continued

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It made quite a commotion; I had that much satisfaction out of it to begin with. Susanna wasn't any too well pleased. I was only the old maid sister, but I was a good cook, and help was scarce in Northfield. All the neighbors shook their heads, and warned me I wouldn't like it. I was too old to change my ways, and I'd be dreadfully homesick, and I'd find the west too rough and boisterous. I just smiled and said nothing.

Well, I came out here to Carleton, and from the time I got here I was perfectly happy. John Henry had a little rented house, and he was as poor as a church mouse, being the ne'er-do-well of our family, and the best loved, as ne'er-do-wells are so apt to be. He'd nearly died of lonesomeness since his wife's death, and he was so glad to see me. That was delightful in itself, and I was just in my element getting that little house fixed up cozy and homelike, and cooking the most elegant meals. There wasn't much work to do, just for me and him, and I got a squaw in to wash and scrub. I never thought about Northfield except to thank goodness I'd escaped from it, and John Henry and I were as happy as a king and queen.

Then after awhile my activities began to sprout and branch out, and the direction they took was boys. Carleton was full of boys, like all the western towns, overflowing with them as you might say, young fellows just let loose from home and mother, some of them dying of homesickness and some of them beginning to run wild and get into risky ways, some of them smart and some of them lazy, some ugly and some handsome; but all of them boys, lovable, rollicking boys, with the makings of good men in them if there was anybody to take hold of them and cut the pattern right, but liable to be spoiled just because there wasn't anybody.

Well, I did what I could. It began with John Henry bringing home some of them that worked

in his office to spend the evening now and again, and they told other fellows and asked leave to bring them in too. And before long it got to be that there never was an evening there wasn't some of them there, "Aunt-Pattying" me. I told them from the start I would not be called Miss. When a woman has been Miss for forty-five years she gets tired of it.

So Aunt Patty it was, and Aunt Patty it remained, and I loved all those dear boys as if they'd been my own. They told me all their troubles, and I mothered them and cheered them up and scolded them, and finally topped off with a jolly good supper; for, talk as you like, you can't preach much good into a boy if he's got an aching void in his stomach. Fill that up with tasty victuals, and then you can do something with his spiritual nature. If a boy is well stuffed with good things and then won't listen to advice, you might as well stop wasting your breath on him, because there is something radically wrong with him. Probably his grandfather had dyspepsia. And a dyspeptic ancestor is worse for a boy than predestination, in my opinion.

Anyway, most of my boys took to going to church and Bible class of their own accord, after I'd been their aunt for awhile. The young minister thought it was all his doings, and I let him think so to keep him cheered up. He was a nice boy himself, and often dropped in of an evening too; but I never would let him talk theology until after supper. His views always seemed so much mellower then, and didn't puzzle the other boys more than was wholesome for them.

This went on for five glorious years, the only years of my life I'd ever lived, and then came, as I thought, the end of everything. John Henry took typhoid and died. At first that was all I

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could think of; and when I got so that I could think of other things, there was, as I have said, nothing for me to do but go back east.

The boys, who had been as good as gold to me all through my trouble, felt dreadfully bad over this, and coaxed me hard to stay. They said if I'd start a boarding house I'd have all the boarders I could accommodate; but I knew it was no use to think of that, because I wasn't strong enough, and help was so hard to get. No, there was nothing for it but Northfield and stagnation again, with not a stray boy anywhere to mother. I looked the dismal prospect square in the face and made up my mind to it.

But I was determined to give my boys one good celebration before I went, anyway. It was near Thanksgiving, and I resolved they should have a dinner that would keep my memory green for awhile, a real old-fashioned Thanksgiving dinner such as they used to have at home. I knew it would cost more than I could really afford, but I shut my eyes to that aspect of the question. I was going back to strict eastern economy for the rest of my days, and I meant to indulge in one wild, blissful riot of extravagance before I was cooped up again.

I counted up the boys I must have, and there were fifteen, including the minister. I invited them a fortnight ahead to make sure of getting them, though I needn't have worried, for they all said they would have broken an engagement to dine with the king for one of my dinners. The

minister said he had been feeling so homesick he was afraid he wouldn't be able to preach a real thankful sermon, but now he was comfortably sure that his sermon would be overflowing with gratitude.

I just threw myself heart and soul into the preparations for that dinner. I had three turkeys and two sucking pigs, and mince pies and

pumpkin pies and apple pies, and doughnuts and fruit cake and cranberry sauce and brown bread, and ever so many other things to fill up the chinks. The night before Thanksgiving everything was ready, and I was so tired I could hardly talk to Jimmy Nelson when he dropped in.

Jimmy had something on his mind, I saw that. So I said, "'Fess up, Jimmy, and then you'll be able to enjoy your call."

"I want to ask a favour of you, Aunt Patty," said Jimmy.

I knew I should have to grant it; nobody could refuse Jimmy anything, he looked so much like a nice, clean, pink-and-white little schoolboy whose

mother had just scrubbed his face and told him to be good. At the same time he was one of the wildest young scamps in Carleton, or had been until a year ago. I'd got him well set on the road to reformation, and I felt worse about leaving him than any of the rest of them. I knew he was just at the critical point. With somebody to tide him over the next half year he'd probably go straight for the rest of his life, but if he were left to himself he'd likely just slip back to his old set and ways.

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"I want you to let me bring my Uncle Joe to dinner tomorrow," said Jimmy. "The poor old fellow is stranded here for Thanksgiving, and he hates hotels. May I?"

"Of course," I said heartily, wondering why Jimmy seemed to think I mightn't want his Uncle Joe. "Bring him right along."

"Thanks," said Jimmy. "He'll be more than pleased. Your sublime cookery will delight him. He adores the west, but he can't endure its cooking. He's always harping on his mother's pantry and the good old down-east dinners. He's dyspeptic and pessimistic most of the time, and he's got half a dozen cronies just like himself. All they think of is railroads and bills of fare."

"Railroads!" I cried. And then an awful thought assailed me. "Jimmy Nelson, your uncle isn't—isn't—he can't be Joseph P. Nelson, the rich Joseph P. Nelson!"

"Oh, he's rich enough," said Jimmy; getting up and reaching for his hat. "In dollars, that is. Some ways he's poor enough. Well, I must be going. Thanks ever so much for letting me bring Uncle Joe."

And that rascal was gone, leaving me crushed. Joseph Nelson was coming to my house to dinner—Joseph P. Nelson, the millionaire railroad king, who kept his own chef and was accustomed to dining with the great ones of the earth!

I was afraid I should never be able to forgive Jimmy. I couldn't sleep a wink that night, and I cooked that dinner next day in a terrible state of mind. Every ring that came at the door made my heart jump,—but in the end Jimmy didn't ring at all, but just walked in with his uncle in tow. The minute I saw Joseph P. I knew I needn't be scared of him; he just looked real common. He was little and thin and kind of

bored-looking, with grey hair and whiskers, and his clothes were next door to downright shabbiness. If it hadn't been for the thought of that chef, I wouldn't have felt a bit ashamed of my old-fashioned Thanksgiving spread.

When Joseph P. sat down to that table he stopped looking bored. All the time the minister was saying grace that man simply stared at a big plate of doughnuts near my end of the table, as if he'd never seen anything like them before.

All the boys talked and laughed while they were eating, but Joseph P. just ate, tucking away turkey and vegetables and keeping an anxious eye on those doughnuts, as if he was afraid somebody else would get hold of them before his turn came. I wished I was sure it was etiquette to tell him not to worry because there were plenty more in the pantry. By the time he'd been helped three times to mince pie I gave up feeling bad about the chef. He finished off with the doughnuts, and I shan't tell how many of them he devoured, because I would not be believed.

Most of the boys had to go away soon after dinner. Joseph P. shook hands with me absently and merely said, "Good afternoon, Miss Porter." I didn't think he seemed at all grateful for his dinner, but that didn't worry me because it was for my boys I'd got it up, and not for dyspeptic millionaires whose digestion had been spoiled by private chefs. And my boys had appreciated it, there wasn't any doubt about that. Peter Crockett and Tommy Gray stayed to help me wash the dishes, and we had the jolliest time ever. Afterward we picked the turkey bones.

But that night I realized that I was once more a useless, lonely old woman. I cried myself to sleep, and next morning I hadn't spunk enough to cook myself a dinner. I dined off some

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crackers and the remnants of the apple pies, and I was sitting staring at the crumbs when the bell rang. I wiped away my tears and went to the door. Joseph P. Nelson was standing there, and he said, without wasting any words—it was easy to see how that man managed to get railroads built where nobody else could manage it—that he had called to see me on a little matter of business.

He took just ten minutes to make it clear to me, and when I saw the whole project I was the happiest woman in Carleton or out of it. He said he had never eaten such a Thanksgiving dinner as mine, and that I was the woman he'd been looking for for years. He said that he had a few business friends who had been brought up on a down-east farm like himself, and never got over their hankering for old-fashioned cookery.

"That is something we can't get here, with all our money," he said. "Now, Miss Porter, my nephew tells me that you wish to remain in Carleton, if you can find some way of supporting yourself. I have a proposition to make to you. These aforesaid friends of mine and I expect to spend most of our time in Carleton for the next few years. In fact we shall probably make it our home eventually. It's going to be the city of the west after awhile, and the centre of a dozen railroads. Well, we mean to equip a small private restaurant for ourselves and we want you to take charge of it. You won't have to do much except oversee the business and arrange the bills of fare. We want plain, substantial old-time meals and cookery. When we have a hankering for doughnuts and apple pies and cranberry tarts, we want to know just where to get them and have them the right kind. We're all horribly tired of hotel fare and fancy fol-de-rols with French names. A place where we could get a dinner such as you served yesterday would be a boon to us. We'd have started the restaurant long ago if we could have got a

suitable person to take charge of it."

He named the salary the club would pay and the very sound of it made me feel rich. You may be sure I didn't take long to decide. That was a year ago, and today the Doughnut Club, as they call themselves, is a huge success, and the fame of it has gone abroad in the land, although they are pretty exclusive and keep all their good things close enough to themselves. Joseph P. took a Scotch peer there to dinner one day last week. Jimmy Nelson told me afterward that the man said it was the only satisfying meal he'd had since he left the old country.

As for me, I have my little house, my very own and no rented one, and all my dear boys, and I'm a happy old busybody. You see, God did answer my prayers in spite of my lack of faith; but of course He used means, and that Thanksgiving dinner of mine was the earthly instrument of it all.

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Memories of Christmases Past by Pastor Earl Green

Christmas time is my favorite time of year. It always has been. For me it’s not about the gifts as nice as they are. It’s more about spending time with family and friends. Sharing meals and celebrating Jesus’ birth together.

I remember the first time I played an organ in front of anyone. I was about six and I played “Silent Night” on my aunt's Magnus Chord Organ. It was during the opening of the Christmas pageant at our church and there were about fifty people present. A year or so later it was during Christmas I encountered my first pipe organ and again the song I played was “Silent Night”. It is still my favorite carol and almost always brings me to tears.

Another Christmas that stands out was the first time I sang Händel's “Messiah”. I was only fourteen and our town had just started a community choir. That first year we performed only the Christmas section, ending with the “Hallelujah Chorus”. The Methodist Church was the host church and my drama teacher, Joyce Hildebrand sat in a chair at the front and narrated the

oratorio using the King James Version of scriptures that are referenced in the score. With her dramatic voice telling the story, the choir and soloists singing, the beautiful organ, harpsichord and string bass accompanying, it left an impression that is still with me today. In that simple setting we celebrated the Savior's birth!

There is something about the story of Jesus' birth that melts my heart. Knowing that the King of kings would leave His heavenly throne and travel to earth is still something I just can't understand. The depth of love that it took was so immeasurable and the level of trust He had in His Father and in the Holy Spirit was so unfathomable! Especially when they knew what He would be required to go through before He finished His work here on earth.

Several years ago when I worked on a project with Marty Delmon “The Innkeeper's Daughter”, I remember trying to find a song that I felt captured what Jesus may have been feeling when He was preparing to make His first entrance. While contemplating what He might have been feeling, I began hearing the words; “Silent Night, Holy Night, Son of God loves pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face, with the dawn of redeeming grace. Jesus Lord at Thy birth”.

It was then that the lyrics to my song began come to me and soon a melody followed. I felt it needed to not only tell about that specific moment, but how that moment affected all time. That

moment in time was the “dawn of redeeming grace”. And, at that very

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moment, Jesus began His life's journey to set us free and to bring us peace. These words not only speak of what was happening around Him at that moment, but they also speak to us in the present. I titled the song “A Mother’s Heart” because of the place where it was sung in the musical. But I supposed it really is more of “A Father’s Heart”. The Word tells us God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son. That’s why we have Christmas.

You know, there is so much going on round us today. So much busyness to take us away from the true meaning of Christmas. So, I pray that during this Christmas Season, you will find it in your heart to see that the true Spirit of Christmas is only found in “A Father’s Heart”!

This very night you’ll see Me in the secret place, a quite place,

A Father’s heart.

I feel My heart is pounding, anticipations rise,

I sense you are so anxious, so hurried all the time.

I’m longing for that moment, to feel your hand in Mine,

Restoring all that once was lost, together for all time

So I will come, and dwell within this tiny child.

I’ll walk the earth and finish what I start.


a Father’s heart.

Like the beating of a drum, like the crashing of a gong,

the angels will proclaim My Holy birth.

Though I come here as a baby, I will be the King of Kings...

And as Lord of Lords our hearts will beat as one....




a Father’s heart. ©2012

Christmases continued

I long to let you see Me. I long to make you smile.

I long for you to touch Me, to know My heart and mind.

I long for you to hear My voice and feel My presence near.

I long to bring My peace and joy and save My world so dear...



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stalls where horses and cattle slept. I was glad to be with her during this time. The angel said I would carry the mother of a Savior not yet born. Perhaps this night, I would be a witness to the birth of the Son of God!

The innkeeper showed us an empty stall in the stable and my master eagerly accepted it and paid the innkeeper what was asked. Then he lifted my mistress from my back and unloaded the bedding from the bags I carried at my sides. I sighed with relief and found a trough of cool water nearby. I drank deeply of the water before lowering my head to nibble the fresh hay.

My master lit a lamp he had packed in the bags and I could see my mistress’s face in the dim light. She was so young and looked as tired as I felt. I knelt forward on my knees and lay down to watch her, hoping she could sleep.

I must have dozed off for a bit because when I next looked at my mistress, she was screaming in the last throes of childbirth.

I brayed anxiously as I watched her thrash about as a woman I didn’t know helped her to give birth. I quickly stood up and watched nervously as my mistress cried out in pain.

“Mary! You have a son!” the woman said as she held up a tiny baby.

Suddenly, the stall was filled with light! A huge archangel appeared in the midst of the humble stable! As I looked up at him, the heavens exploded with music as more angels seemed to pour down into the stall! I knew instinctively that the Heavenly Host was

there to bear witness to the birth of the promised Son of God! The animals in the neighboring stalls mooed and whinnied as they, too, felt the presence of the Savior of the World!

I looked around curiously, wondering why none of the humans saw the Heavenly Host. It reminded me of tales told of my ancestor who belonged to a cruel master called Balaam. My ancestor saw the Angel of the Lord standing with His sword drawn, but

Balaam did not see Him. Balaam whipped my poor ancestor for not going forward, but my ancestor saved Balaam’s life. Then God opened the mouth of my ancestor and she spoke to Balaam!

At that moment, I wished my mouth to be opened, too, so I could tell my mistress about the angels

surrounding her! But instead, I could only watch transfixed as my mistress took her new born Babe and wrapped Him in strips of cloth.

I was suddenly aware that the angels had become subdued and it took me a moment to understand why. Then, I remembered yet another story my father had told me. He spoke about the funeral of his master and said they had wrapped his master in strips of cloth. I looked at the new born Babe and felt a rush of cold stab through my heart. I had finally grasped the meaning of the cloth strips and the angel’s sudden stillness. This tiny Child was born to die. I looked at the joyful face of my mistress and wondered if she knew.

It was then that I understood why animals are mute. What if I could tell her the insight I

Donkey continued

AUTUMN PAGE 13 2016


I was abruptly awakened on a cold Sunday morning by an angel standing in my stall. I was frightened at first, but then the angel calmed me and spoke to me gently.

“Very soon, your master will choose you for a very special journey,” the angel said. “You must be brave because you will be traveling to Bethlehem, which is very far away. Your mistress will ride upon your back and the Child she carries within her is holy.”

At that moment, I agreed to do whatever was asked of me, but I did not expect the hardship I would be forced to endure when we set off from Nazareth.

We traveled with other people who were returning to their hometowns for the census and I was urged to keep up with much faster horses and camels or be left behind. I was exhausted as we passed through the valley of Jezreel. We had no tent and the night sky was our roof. The mountains were chilly and there was very little rest for me or my master. From there we followed the Jordan River for two days before reaching Jericho. We camped outside the city and I had grown very cold and tired by then. The distance was further than I had ever traveled before and I was young and unaccustomed to carrying weight. But I was determined, and I believed my burden was holy and that I was blessed among my kind to have been chosen to carry the mother of the Son of God who would redeem the world!

I was willing to do whatever it took to see my mission through, but I didn’t foresee the thirst, hunger and fatigue that had come to me. The caravan had dwindled away and by the time we passed Jerusalem, my eyes had grown blurry

from the dusty road and my feet were icy cold. It was then that my mistress had the first spasm of pain. I remembered what the angel had told me about the Child in her womb and sensed she was close to giving birth! Night was falling quickly, so I hurried as fast as I could to carry her to safety. My mistress’s weight was a light burden, but my legs faltered and I stumbled. My master stroked my muzzle and ears urging me to go just a little further. An angel appeared just down the road from us and beckoned me to come. I mustered up all the strength I could

and trotted ahead.

The sun had nearly dipped below the horizon when a welcome sight came into view. An inn where my mistress and master could rest and stables where I could also take refuge for the night! With the

last of my strength, I hurried forward following my master to the door of the inn.

As my master spoke with the innkeeper, my anticipation quickly turned to frustration. I brayed and hung my head as I felt my master’s disappointment when the innkeeper told him that the inn was full and we’d have to go elsewhere for lodging. I listened as my master pleaded to the innkeeper and felt my mistress’s body tighten as another wave of pain overtook her.

Finally, the innkeeper took pity on my poor mistress and said we could shelter in the stable. I felt a sudden joy overwhelm me as I carried my mistress to the warmth of the

A Donkey’s Story by Pastor Cate Green

W elcome! We are glad you have come to Worship with us today. It is our Prayer that you feel the Love and Presence of the Lord among us. Our service is not structured like a traditional church,

(thus our ending time is until), but rather we prefer to follow the leading of the Holy Spirit who knows best how to minister to the needs of those present. As we follow His lead, we experience many of the gifts of the Holy Spirit: healing, prophecy, words of wisdom & knowledge, faith, discerning of spirits, tongues, interpretation of tongues and working of miracles as found in 1 Corinthians 12: 8-11.

Orlando Prayer & Worship Center International is an Apostolic Training Center. An Apostolic Training Center, is an equipping center, where the five-fold ascension gifts are in operation as described in Ephesians 4:11-13. We are to train, to prepare, to send out, and to support God’s people for the Kingdom ministries for which God has called them.

Ephesians 4:11-13 "And He Himself gave some to be Apostles, some Prophets, some Evangelists, and some Pastors and Teachers for the equipping of the saints for the work of ministry, for the edifying of the body of Christ, till we all come to the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ."

As an Apostolic Training Center our ministry and messages are designed to accomplish the goals described above. This will cause through the Holy Spirit, a network of churches and ministries that will operate by relationship rather than by organization or tradition.

TITHES & OFFERINGS

There is usually no call for tithes and offerings. During our Praise and Worship you are invited to bring what the Lord has directed and what you have decided in your heart and place it in the chests of Joash at the front. Please read (II Kings 12:9 & II Chronicles 24:8-12).

In His Love & Service,

Orlando Prayer & Worship Center 970 Tuskawilla Rd Winter Springs, FL 32708 Office Phone: 407-617-3204 Website: www.opwci.org E-mail: [email protected]

Service Times Sundays at 3 PM

Pastor Naomi Futch

OPWCI Staff Members

Naomi Futch Senior Pastor Oversight/Apostle

Earl Green Associate Pastor/Music Minister

Pastor Bill Gentry Prayer Ambassador

Pastor Betty Carter Teacher/Director of Home Groups

Dr Linda Stiles Prophetess/ Director of Counseling/ Prophetic Training

Cate Green Co-Associate Pastor/Media Minister

Cheryl Landry Church Administrator

AUTUMN PAGE 16 2016 AUTUMN PAGE 15 2016

possessed?

One of the angels observed me watching my mistress and he spoke to me.

“Gentle donkey,” the angel said, “your faithfulness will not go unrewarded. Many years ago, a man called Zachariah foretold that a King above all kings would ride a donkey colt triumphantly into Jerusalem. Do you know why a donkey will be chosen over a horse for this purpose?”

I shook my head at the angel’s question. I did not know the answer.

“Because kings who enter a city in peace ride donkeys, not horses” the angel said. “As a reward for your service this night, one of your descendants will be chosen to carry the Prince of Peace, the King of all creation, victoriously into the City of God! This King is Jesus, the Child you see before you. He will ask His disciples to find your descendant specifically when the time comes. Your descendant will be written about throughout history when the story of Triumph is told!”

I was overjoyed at the gift my family had been given! My ancestor that belonged to Balaam was famous, I had been honored to carry the mother of Jesus, and now my descendant would fulfil prophecy by bearing Jesus into His great city! Blessed were we among donkeys! I brayed with delight at what a wonderful God I served!

My mistress looked at me and laughed. The Babe in her arms slowly turned His head towards me and opened His eyes. Jesus looked at me, and smiled.

I felt a bittersweet joy at that moment, knowing that the Baby that smiled at me would someday die. But then, something strange happened. As I looked at the Baby, I

saw the face of God!

“Dear little donkey,” He said. “My Son was not born to die, but to conquer Death itself! Be of good cheer! Rejoice! I am with you always!”

I brayed again in delight and pawed the floor of the stall! My mistress laughed at me again, but I was jubilant! I had seen the radiant face of my Master and King!

Catherine Green ©2016

Donkey continued

A Fond Farewell from the Editor

To My Readers,

It’s been an eventful four years of publishing for the Herald. I’ve done my best to provide you all with relevant and Spirit-led teachings and quality articles for your enjoyment, but alas, all things must come to an end. Due to the increasing cost of printing supplies, software updates and printer problems, I regret to tell you I can no longer provide you with the Herald. I hope you will enjoy this last issue and perhaps, when things get better, I can once again publish this magazine.

God bless and farewell!

Pastor Cate Green

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