Sorry I left y'all hanging. I know its been a while since I've been to this forum, but I just wanted to let everyone know I'm still around. Hopefully I can finish this story at some point. Right now I got a lot going on. A whole other story for another time.

- w2w

I spent almost every day reading the King James bible. After a while words like Verily, verily began to grate on my nerves. The main problem was that I could not picture Jesus, the son of God, saying these words. It made him sound like a bad stage actor in a Shakespearean play.

Finally I asked God if maybe I should get another bible. Since the woman at Under His Canopy had said there were other versions I figured perhaps there was a better one out there. Although, on some level I still couldn't discern, it bothered me that men would have made other versions of a book that was originally penned by God himself.

Either way, I didn't have much choice. The words of the King James version were too corny for me to believe in. I wanted a bible that didn't make me feel as if I were reading the screenplay to some bad Kevin Costner movie.

So I returned to the bible store and inquired about the other versions. The same lady who had helped me before suggested I try an NIV. I asked what the difference was, as opposed to the King James.

"The language," she said. "The New International Version is more modern."

I asked her if this interfered with the message in any way. She said it didn't, although I had my suspicions. I wasn't a bible expert (or an expert on God, for that matter), so I decided to purchase the NIV and give it a go.

I spent the next few days reading this new version, but I could not stem the disquieting sense that whatever the bible itself had to offer I was somehow missing out on it. I had no idea if this was due to the different versions, the language, or the fact that I knew nothing about the bible. Unsure of what to do, I left the NIV on my dresser and did not read it again for a couple days.

One night when I came home from work I walked over to where I'd laid the bible down and it was gone. I searched the whole room, but I could not find the bible anywhere.

For the next two weeks I would occassionally stop what I was doing and look under the bed, the dresser, inside cabinets, the bathroom, even walk around outside looking in the bushes that grew along the walkways of the house.

It was a puzzle, and so one day at work I told the young man I worked with what had happened. I had no idea until that night when I first spoke to him that he was a Christian. His name was Josh. He was twenty-one years old, almost twenty years younger than me. I had always seemed to graviate toward younger people. I suspected the reason being that most adults were too stuffy or stiffnecked for my tastes.

"Maybe God wants you to get another bible," Josh said.

I laughed. "Yeah," I said, half joking. "And so what? He threw the other one away?"

Josh shrugged. "You never know."

I went home that night wondering if that was even possible. Perhaps God was sick and tired of all these different bible versions, and maybe this was His way of telling me. It didn't seem plausible, but there didn't seem to be any plausible explaination for the disappearing bible, either.

The next morning I awoke to the gentle pitter-patter of rain. I got up to close my window, and as I looked outside I saw the bible: it was lying on the roof just outside the window, the pages fluttering in the breeze.

I stared at the bible. There was no way I had put it out there myself, that much I knew. I thought about taking the screen off and reaching out to grab it. Instead, I slowly closed the window and pulled the shade down. I went back to bed, but it was a long time before I could sleep.

[to be continued]

For the rest of that day, after that first stunning revelation in the morning - He had come! - I wandered aimlessly around town. I had no particular place to go, no thoughts of where I was going or why. I just walked as if bouncing, light as a feather; a small sparrow released from captivity.

Later in the day after stopping at the grocery store to get some food I was leaving the parking lot when I thought, 'Lord, I think I should get a bible.'

Immediately I heard the loud honk of a car horn and looked to my left and there was this small store with a large burgundy colored awning. In bright white letters on the awning it read Under His Canopy.

It was a bible store.

I sat and stared at it for so long the cars behind me began to honk their horns in irrtation. Finally I went over to the store, parked, and went inside.

I had no thoughts going in of what I was doing there, except to find a bible.

There were two women behind the counter when I walked inside and they both smiled as I approached them. I had no idea what I was going to say, so I opted to just say the truth (as odd as it was), 'The Lord sent me here.'

Neither of the women seemed surprised by this, and I found that even more bizarre.

The older lady asked me, 'What kind of bible would you like?'

'There's more than one?'

I was a little perplexed. Why would there be different versions of the same book? How could a person choose if there were more than one? It didn't seem like something God would do, although how I knew this I had no idea.

I pointed to one of the books on the shelf behind the woman, an older-looking bible in a leather bound cover, the same color as the awning outside the store.

'Let me see that one,' I said.

'Ah, good choice,' the woman said, and she took the bible off the shelf and laid it on the counter in front of me. 'I have this same one myself.'

I looked down at the cover; HOLY BIBLE was written on it in gilded gold letters. I picked the bible up and turned it to read the letters on the spine - KJV, King James Version.

'Who is King James,' I asked.

The woman smiled.

'King James I was a Christian who wanted the Bible in the hands of the common man,' she said. 'The crowning achievement of King James was his commissioning the translation of the Authorized King James Version of the Bible in 1611. The King appointed the world's best scholars to the work and throughout the translation paid careful attention to ensure that the translation was completed.

We Christians would do well to take heed to King James' comment on Christian conduct: "Holiness is the first and most requisite quality of a Christian, as proceeding from true fear and knowledge of God."

The Word of God is foundational to everything that pertaineth to life and godliness--it is also the standard by which we shall all be judged. Handle it carefully.'

I regarded the bible in my hands with a little more thoughtfullness. 'I see,' I said. 'I'll take it then.'

She put the bible in a yellow bag with the words Under His Canopy stenciled in white on the front. I paid for it, thanked her, and then left the store.

Watching the dark red canopy disappearing behind me in the rearview mirror as I drove home I wondered about this King James. I had no clue about God, let alone a bible written by a 16th century King. Everything it seemed was alien to me.

I thought about what the woman had said, Holiness is the first and most requisite quality of a Christian, as proceeding from true fear and knowledge of God. What did this mean? I wondered. And why would God want me to fear him?

When I got back to the boarding house I went up to my room and sat on the floor with my new King James bible in my lap. I had no clue what to do next, so I asked (out loud), 'What do I do now?'

I waited. There was no answer. I felt rather foolish, alone in the room, talking to no one.

I opened the bible, some dim memory lending me the compulsion to just let the pages flop open and poke my finger down, stabbing a verse at random.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom".

I jumped, startled, throwing the bible all the way across the room. It hit the door with a muffled thump, landing face down on the floor.

The book is possessed! Absurd, but that's what I thought. How else could such a thing have just happened?

Well, you did ask God what to do next, didn't you?

I laughed. Yes, I had. Ok ... so this was how it worked? You ask God something and he answers from the book. It seemed reasonable enough.

[to be continued]

I led a pretty misearable existence most of my life. I was thirty-six years old before I finally shut down my controlling inner pride, opened my mouth, and asked Jesus Christ to take over my life. The events which transpired to bring me to this conclusion are something I would like to share with all of you here (this is an exerpt from the book I'm writing, also entitled In the Classroom of the Lord).

I have always been a very intellectual person. I was born with an abnormally high IQ, which in turn made me a loner, an outcast. You don't have to have something different about you on the outside, that people can see; deep down people can sense when you are different.

I tried making friends and having relationships, but they all ended painfully (and some even tragically). My home life wasn't much better. My folks provided for me and my brother and I always felt encouraged and protected. Neither me nor my brother were ever abused, physically or emotionally. I knew my parents cared for me, but these were not words that were ever spoken out loud very often in our house. Sometimes silence can be just as bad as the smack of a hand.

I grew up bitter and angry. Alone. No friends. The best way to describe me is to say I was just like Stitch (in the movie, Lilo & Stitch), and angry little destructive alien who wrekced havoc wherever he went because deep down there was no sense of belonging to anyone or anything.

I also was born with handicaps, which only added to my feelings of alienation. To counter the overhwleming tidal wave of insecurity and wothlessness I became mean and nasty. No one could hurt me if I didn't give a rip. Eventually, anger and hatred became my personality, which only isolated me even more from the people around me.

In 1996 I got a small room in a boarding house and it was here that I realized I could no longer go on. My life sucked and there was nothing I could do about it. I had always been able to figure things out, to know what to do to get out of any given situation. But not this time. This time I had no answers. No escape. I finally understood that no matter how long I tried I would never be able to patch that deep, aching, inner hole inside of me. It was humanly impossible.

I knew about Jesus because I had heard about Him enough times. I knew of Him and that He was supposed to have died for me. I thought it was hogwash. I had always figured that Jesus was just the white man's buddha.

But even so, on the second day in my room, just me and the walls and what few meager things I posessed, I spoke aloud to the Lord for the first time in my life, "Ok, please help me. I can't stand it anymore. Help me. Please."

I remembered times when I was a little boy the feeling of love, for my parents, for the trees and the grass and the blue sky. So many simple pleasures which now felt like alien artifacts, buried in the dust, dead and dry as bones. I felt like a hollow shell, a shadow on the wall, the mere illusion of a man.

I asked Jesus to rescue me. I couldn't bear remembering who I once was and never being able to recapture some semblance of that humanity. I wanted to feel again. I wanted to belong. I wanted to love and be loved. Who doesn't?

I didn't feel any different that first day, so I asked Jesus to take over my life twelve more times. It didn't seem to be working.

And then one morning I woke up, and slowly I realized that the usual self-doubting, self-loathing thoughts I always had were no longer there. Almost every day I can remember I would always have some lowly, self-demoralizing thoughts about myself: I'm ugly, I'm not good enough, I'm a loser, worthless, disfigured, etc.

I tried remembering one of them. I spent about an hour trying to grasp just one of those bad thoughts. But I couldn't do it. I was shocked. At what point did I consciously decide to stop thinking these thoughts? And how had I managed to do it overnight?

Instantly it hit me, and I sat down hard on the floor. Jesus was real.

He really had come, and He'd taken those thoughts away. It was the only answer that made any sense, because I knew no human being could manage to do what I had just done in a matter of a few hours. Heck, I knew countless people who had spent years trying to do the same thing without any progress at all. Change for a human being did not happen that fast.

I started jumping up and down and in doing so it felt as if my insides were being warmed by some imaginary hot iron. It was a wild sensation, one I can't adequately describe. I just somehow knew .... Jesus had really come.

[to be continued]

I need as many people as possible to help me by praying to God to get rid of my brother and my neice. I will explain why ...

Sixteen years ago my brother got divorced. He started drinking then, and he told my dad he didn't want his kids anymore. My dad didn't want the kids going to live with his ex-wife so he began seeking lawyers to help him get custody of both kids. My folks didn't have the money to spend on this, but my dad - whose intentions are never quite thought out or based on reality - went ahead and did it anyway.

They ended up only getting custody of my neice, Sarah. At this time she was four years old.

My brother continued to drink and become a professional bum, and because of this he never kept a job or developed his own life. So he started living off my folks. This was twelve years ago.

Now my brother is still living off my folks. He's still a drunken loser. And he doesn't even try anymore to find a job to help pay his own way in my folks house. Once a leech finds a host and the host doesn't do anything to get rid of the leech, then why would the leech even try to leave?

Over the passed twelve years my dad spoiled my neice beyond belief. For instance, at the age of fourteen, my dad was still making and cutting up my neice's food. One time, while my dad was in the kitchen cutting up my neice's food, she was siting on her lazy butt in the living room and she said, "I need a Coke. Bring me Coke now." I was visiting my folks the day this happend, and I couldn't help but say something. I said, "Why don't you get up and get it yourself."

Now this was all I said,and my dad went ballistic. He came after me yelling, "Don't you ever talk to her that way again!" What way? You mean, tell the lazy, spoiled little brat to get off her lazy butt and get her own Coke? Go figure ....

Now it is January 20, 2004, and the situation at my folks house has not changed. My brother still sits around on his butt, getting drunk, and feeding off my folks. My neice is now twenty years old - she has held only one job in all this time, and that being only part time and only for a couple months, and she has never went to get her drivers license. Her reasoning is, "I don't have to work (or drive) if I don't want to. I only have to do what I want to do." - Which is basically live off my folks and let them support her.

Hopefully by telling this you will understand why I am praying that God please get rid of these two leeches. My dad is pretty wishy-washy, and he's also quite spineless, so there is no help or hope there of him ever being man enough to throw these two leeches out.

So I am turning to God - and all of you here - for the sake of my poor mother, who is seventy years old now, to get rid of these loafing bums. She is too old to still be vaccuming, washing clothes, doing dishes, and running around for the likes of these two losers.

God made everything, even the ducks ... and I have seen even a duck throwing its babies out of the nest to fend for themselves. So I know what I am asking is right, especially since it is for my mother's sake. She certainly can't throw them out. She's old. My dad is supposed to be the man and it is his job to throw these kids out, but my dad is emotinally screwed up and weak and he is pretty useless in this regard.

Please join me in asking God to get rid of my neice and my brother. Help me pray for this, for my mom's sake ........

Thank you.

- W2W

Below is a letter I just read in this mornings paper to Dear Abby. I was so amazed by this woman's ignorance and audacity that I had to post this here.

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DEAR ABBY: Please answer this quickly. There is no one else I can talk to. I am a devout Christian woman, prominent in my church and have an impeccable reputation. My late husband’s family treats me with respect and generosity. I was unhappy when “Henry” and I were married and I wanted to divorce him, but the man I was having an affair with at the time would not leave his wife for me. In spite of being devastated, I was also blessed because Henry died a short time later. I have been free now for 10 years. I love my freedom and the relationship I have with Henry’s family. But recently I have begun to wonder if I should confide in my brother-in-law, “Rick” (who is getting a divorce), that I was unhappy enough with his brother to have had affairs much of the time we were married. It might make Rick feel better about his own “mess” and possibly bring him closer to me. Should I open my heart to him? He thinks of me as a sister. -- UNSURE IN CHARLESTON, S.C.
-------------------

This is an excellent example of why people can't stand Christians. This woman starts off by doing the one thing that should be a BIG clue to anyone about her true motives: she openly boasts about herself as a Christian - "I am a devout Christian woman, prominent in my church and have an impeccable reputation."

Anytime you hear someone start off a sentence with a boasting speech about their great "Chrsitian credentials" you can rest assured they definitely have some deeper issues, which, of course, this woman certainly does. For right after her declaration of being a "devout Christian" she goes on to write about cheating on her husband and then being "blessed" because he died (as if God took him out of the picture so she could continue her cheating lifestyle).

Let this letter be an example to all out there. God doesn't want pretend or part-time believers - He's looking for the real deal. It's all about image with God - how we walk, talk, present ourselves to the rest of the world. How can we "walk as a light among men" when we behave just like everyone else?

Below is a letter I just read in this mornings paper to Dear Abby. I was so amazed by this woman's ignorance and audacity that I had to post this here.

-------------------
DEAR ABBY: Please answer this quickly. There is no one else I can talk to. I am a devout Christian woman, prominent in my church and have an impeccable reputation. My late husband’s family treats me with respect and generosity. I was unhappy when “Henry” and I were married and I wanted to divorce him, but the man I was having an affair with at the time would not leave his wife for me. In spite of being devastated, I was also blessed because Henry died a short time later. I have been free now for 10 years. I love my freedom and the relationship I have with Henry’s family. But recently I have begun to wonder if I should confide in my brother-in-law, “Rick” (who is getting a divorce), that I was unhappy enough with his brother to have had affairs much of the time we were married. It might make Rick feel better about his own “mess” and possibly bring him closer to me. Should I open my heart to him? He thinks of me as a sister. -- UNSURE IN CHARLESTON, S.C.
-------------------

This is an excellent example of why people can't stand Christians. This woman starts off by doing the one thing that should be a BIG clue to anyone about her true motives: she openly boasts about herself as a Christian - "I am a devout Christian woman, prominent in my church and have an impeccable reputation."

Anytime you hear someone start off a sentence with a boasting speech about their great "Chrsitian credentials" you can rest assured they definitely have some deeper issues, which, of course, this woman certainly does. For right after her declaration of being a "devout Christian" she goes on to write about cheating on her husband and then being "blessed" because he died (as if God took him out of the picture so she could continue her cheating lifestyle).

Let this letter be an example to all out there. God doesn't want pretend or part-time believers - He's looking for the real deal. It's all about image with God - how we walk, talk, present ourselves to the rest of the world. How can we "walk as a light among men" when we behave just like everyone else?