Free To Live

Blog About Liesl Alexander

Be Blessed!

A 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud man, who is fully dressed each
morning by eight o’clock, with his hair fashionably combed and shaved
perfectly, even though he is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today.
His wife of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, he smiled sweetly when told his room was ready.

As he maneuvered his walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of his tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on his window.I love it,’ he stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy.

Mr. Jones, you haven’t seen the room; just wait.’

‘That doesn’t have anything to do with it,’ he replied.
Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time.
Whether I like my room or not doesn’t depend on how the furniture is arranged.. it’s how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it.
‘It’s a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can
spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do.

Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open, I’ll focus on the new day and
all the happy memories I’ve stored away.. Just for this time in my life.
Old age is like a bank account. You withdraw from what you’ve put in.
So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank
account of memories!
Thank you for your part in filling my Memory Bank.
I am still depositing.
‘Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.

The Father Is There To Help

A must See

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Love Never Fails

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You Are Not Alone

You are not alone – For God is with you.
You are not defenseless – For God is your protector.
You are not inadequate – For God is your sufficiency.
You are not useless – For God has a purpose for your life.
You are not worthless – For God sent His Son to die for you.
You are not without hope – For God has a place prepared for you.
You are not unloved – For God loves you with an everlasting love.
You are not rejected, or abandoned – For God calls you His own.

“I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.” So we can say with confidence, “The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?” Hebrews 13:5-6 NLT

Devotional by Roy Lessin,

© copyright 2010 DaySpring® Cards. All rights reserved

A future Event

….. Help why am I here?…. Who has locked the door? Why can’t i get out…

If you want to hear  this amazing true story, come along to Free To Live in St Andrew’s Church, High Street, Oakington Near Cambridge on …

Saturday October 2nd.  7.30pm

Heaven

Heaven as written by a 17 Year Old Boy
This is excellent and really gets you thinking about what will happen in Heaven.
17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. “I wowed ‘em,” he later told his father, Bruce. It’s a killer. It’s the bomb It’s the best thing I ever wrote.” It also was the last.
Brian’s parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager’s locker at Teays Valley High School in Pickaway County

Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them, notes from classmates and teachers, and his homework. Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen’s life. But it was only after Brian’s death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven.

It makes such an impact that people want to share it. “You feel like you are there,” Mr. Moore said.. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend’s house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.

The Moore’s framed a copy of Brian’s essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. “I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it,” Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son’s vision of life after death. “I’m happy for Brian. I know he’s in heaven. I know I’ll see him.

Here is Brian’s essay entitled:


The Room..”
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.
As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Girls I have liked.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn’t match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have betrayed.” The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed at.”

Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I’ve yelled at my brothers.” Others I couldn’t laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger”, “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.” I never ceased to be surprised by the contents Often there were many more cards than expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.

Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “TV Shows I have watched,” I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn’t found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.


When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me.

One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!” In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn’t matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards…


But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh

And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room.. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn’t bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes.

Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room.. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn’t anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn’t say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files.. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. “No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no,” as I pulled the card from Him… His name shouldn’t be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, and so alive.

The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don’t think I’ll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.”

I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life.” John 3:16

Thank you Kim for this response to my post on commitment.

Hi Liesl, thank you for these words. They are so encouraging. I believe our God passionately wants to interact with us each hour of each day! I’m not sure He ever wants us to just ‘roll up’ to church, to His door, to His heart. We come to the throne room of God when we turn our hearts to Jesus. I have been reading the gospels a lot recently. In the parable of the seeds being sown on different types of ground – path, rocks, among thistle and on good soil, I have come to believe this is an illustration of our congregations. “The knowledge of the secrets of the kingdom of heaven has been given to you”(Matthew 13:11,18-23). In each gathering of people, I think Jesus is saying there are 4 types of listeners to the Word. “Listen then to what the parable of the sower means: When anyone hears the message about the kingdom and does not understand it, the evil one comes and snatches away what was sown in his heart. This is the seed sown along the path. The one who received the seed that fell on rocky places is the man who hears the word and at once receives it with joy. But since he has no root, he lasts only a short time. When trouble or persecution comes because of the word, he quickly falls away. The one who received the seed that fell among the thorns is the man who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it, making it unfruitful. But the one who received the seed that fell on good soil is the man who hears the word and understands it. He produces a crop, yielding a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown.” As you suggest, all these listeners turn up to church, or the gathering with needs. How do we meet the needs of all these different types of listener? Clearly it is not only through the word, for Jesus tells us that for 3 out of 4 types of listener what they hear will disappear from thier minds in varying degrees of time. As I write this, I wonder that it can only be through the Gospel and love of Christ in ACTION and deeds. Jesus showed us the way by demonstrating His love in actions – healing, feeding, loving, accepting, eating with ’sinners’ and the sick, allowing Himself to be touched, moved, involved and going the extra mile even when it turned the ‘holy leaders’ and their followers against him. Do we dare to do the same? I hope so, and I believe Jesus hopes so more. I pray that God will breathe on these words by His Spirit, and take away those that are not of Him, and magnify those that are. In Jesus mighty, powerful and Sovereign name, Amen. Hallelieuah!

Commitment

I have been thinking about churches lately, mine included, how easy it is to get into a format, a routine, a regularity, sameness, and we sometimes forget people come with needs, and they are struggling with various issues, financial, health, loneliness, anxieties, fears etc. and how easy it is to just include them into the system, and possibly not really meet their needs, feel their pain, empathise with them, They are seeking God, not theology, or rituals, or formats, or religiosity. I wonder do many round the country come to churches seeking something and realise they do not speak the language and leave without their needs being met, or even being told Jesus can meet their needs?

This sounds rather cynical I don’t mean it to be, but I am very aware that holding a meeting of praise and worship and a talk and short drama, coffee and prayer ministry, that those who have made an effort to come, are not wanting soul power, they are wanting Jesus Power, They are not interested in whether the music is professional, or the talk to be about something that doesn’t touch their heart, or prayer ministry which skates over the top and they leave not being “Heard”.

There is power in numbers and churches should get behind where God is working where His holy spirit is evident, and drop those things which have become “soul power”  but then Commitment is not something people  like to digest these days,

We are independent, doing things when we want.   God is never telling us to do masses of things, becoming over stretched and unable to commit, and loose the vision.

God knows our frame He wants His work to progress He wants to anoint it, He wants His power to be evident “signs and wonders will follow His word” He really is not interested in people who just roll up to a various list of things and speak the Christian lingo, walk away when it suits, and not be committed to it.

What is commitment?  Commitment is the key to unlocking doors and windows, and letting the light in to show how we can all lead a more focused life. We need to pray that the congregations around the country don’t fall short of this and hinder Gods power to work, with any lack of commitment.

Makes Sense to Me! Thanks Debbs for sending this.


Jail versus nursing homes

Food for thought:

Let’s put the seniors in jail, and the criminals in a nursing home.

This way the seniors would have access to showers, hobbies, and walks,
they’d receive unlimited free prescriptions, dental and medical
treatment, wheel chairs etc., and they’d receive money instead of paying
it out.

They would have constant video monitoring, so they could be helped
instantly, if they fell, or needed assistance.

Bedding would be washed twice a week, and all clothing would be ironed
and returned to them.

A guard would check on them every 20 minutes, and bring their meals and
snacks to their cell. They would have family visits in a suite built
for that purpose.

They would have access to a library, weight room,spiritual
counselling, pool, and education.

Simple clothing, shoes, slippers, P.J.’s and legal aid would be free,
on request.

Private, secure rooms for all, with an exercise outdoor yard, with
gardens.
Each senior could have a P.C. a T.V. radio, and daily phone calls.

There would be a board of directors, to hear complaints, and the guards
would have a code of conduct, that would be strictly adhered to.

The “criminals” would get cold food, be left all alone, and
unsupervised. lights off at 8pm, and showers once a week.
Live in a tiny room, and pay $5000.00 per month and have no hope of ever
getting out. Justice for all.

Makes Sense to me!