Well Mom,
So somone spilled the beans and you have been reading along with everyone else for the last few weeks. Here is what you may not know. In the last 29 days, your Blog received over 1,000 hits from over 400 unique users. These hits spanned all 6 inhabited continents including 12 countries. I have requests from people wishing to use your stories and dramas in worship. I have received report of people who were deeply moved and blessed by your ministry.
I am now faced with the decision of what to do with this blog. I could simply leave it up for people to use as a resource. However, it has been my experience that blogs and websites alike fade if they are not getting new content. I can not continue to post everyday i would quickly run out of material and time. So what i have decided to do is to post devotional thoughts excerpted from other less widely read Salvationists from history. as well as continuing to post your stories for you.
Sunday, May 10, 2009
Look, Look Mommy Show You
Today's post is not by Major Betzann Carroll rather it is a tribute to Major Betzann Carroll, written by Cadet Helen Johnson. This tribute is written in a surprisingly similiar style to that of Mrs. Carroll. Thank You Helen for your tribute.
Steve
Look, Look Mommy Show You
By. Helen Johnson
As a very independent child, I did not accept help easily. I was born with many health problems and later was discovered to have a speech problem and many learning disabilities. When I was a young child, medically I fought to survive. Then, I fought to prove myself in school. As a result, I became an independent and determined person sometimes to a fault.
I am honored to have 2 parents who love God, each other, my brother & I and The Salvation Army. They taught me about the Lord, gave me morals and work ethic and instilled in me a love for others. Many times, my stubborn independence stopped me from listening to my parent’s teaching. Yet, my mother continually said: “look, look, mommy show you,” even if I rebelled against her help.
She would patiently take my untied shoe and say: “look, look, mommy show you” and I would pull the shoe away saying: “I can do it!” The older I become the more grateful I am that my mother was always there to show me, help me and love me and I am more willing to accept her help.
Betty, my mom, was one of the poor kids from the projects that were picked up in The Salvation Army van every Sunday. She had a difficult childhood. First, she lost her father at a young age then, had an abusive step-father. She went to training, young, single and innocent. Later, she married my dad and as a young officer with 2 sick kids they struggled to remain in the Lord’s calling.
Mom has always been very transparent in her journey to holiness. I could always see her growth in the Lord. She was excited about the Word. She had a commitment to serve others and a passion to evangelize. Her heart breaks for other’s pain. There were times when she was discouraged. There were times when she got tired in well doing. There were even times when she was bitter in her ministry. Yet, she would seek the Lord’s healing and wholeness openly. My mother showed me by her example how to seek the heart of the Lord. She said: look, look, mommy show you by her actions and showed me how to be a woman on God.
The lessons my mother taught me were always shown in her life. She showed me how to love my husband through the way she treated my father. She showed me how to love my daughter through the way she treated my brother and I. She showed me how to love others through her constant service and dedication to others in The Salvation Army.
My mother is the most humble person I know, always giving to others above herself. I clearly remember when she came to a deeper understanding of God’s love for her. Always giving to others, she was convicted of not loving herself enough. She persistently tried to share the truth of God’s amazing love with me. When I was a teenager, I had low self-esteem and stubbornly would not listen to my mother. Even in through my tough teenage years, my mom was there for me.
As I learn to be a good wife and mother, my mom is still there to show me and help me whenever I need it. While I’ve been in training I have looked to my mother for advice and comfort. When I am an officer, I will continue to look to my mother to show me how to love others, how to preach with power, how to lead and manger effectively and how to seek holiness. Thank you Mom (and dad)!
Steve
Look, Look Mommy Show You
By. Helen Johnson
As a very independent child, I did not accept help easily. I was born with many health problems and later was discovered to have a speech problem and many learning disabilities. When I was a young child, medically I fought to survive. Then, I fought to prove myself in school. As a result, I became an independent and determined person sometimes to a fault.
I am honored to have 2 parents who love God, each other, my brother & I and The Salvation Army. They taught me about the Lord, gave me morals and work ethic and instilled in me a love for others. Many times, my stubborn independence stopped me from listening to my parent’s teaching. Yet, my mother continually said: “look, look, mommy show you,” even if I rebelled against her help.
She would patiently take my untied shoe and say: “look, look, mommy show you” and I would pull the shoe away saying: “I can do it!” The older I become the more grateful I am that my mother was always there to show me, help me and love me and I am more willing to accept her help.
Betty, my mom, was one of the poor kids from the projects that were picked up in The Salvation Army van every Sunday. She had a difficult childhood. First, she lost her father at a young age then, had an abusive step-father. She went to training, young, single and innocent. Later, she married my dad and as a young officer with 2 sick kids they struggled to remain in the Lord’s calling.
Mom has always been very transparent in her journey to holiness. I could always see her growth in the Lord. She was excited about the Word. She had a commitment to serve others and a passion to evangelize. Her heart breaks for other’s pain. There were times when she was discouraged. There were times when she got tired in well doing. There were even times when she was bitter in her ministry. Yet, she would seek the Lord’s healing and wholeness openly. My mother showed me by her example how to seek the heart of the Lord. She said: look, look, mommy show you by her actions and showed me how to be a woman on God.
The lessons my mother taught me were always shown in her life. She showed me how to love my husband through the way she treated my father. She showed me how to love my daughter through the way she treated my brother and I. She showed me how to love others through her constant service and dedication to others in The Salvation Army.
My mother is the most humble person I know, always giving to others above herself. I clearly remember when she came to a deeper understanding of God’s love for her. Always giving to others, she was convicted of not loving herself enough. She persistently tried to share the truth of God’s amazing love with me. When I was a teenager, I had low self-esteem and stubbornly would not listen to my mother. Even in through my tough teenage years, my mom was there for me.
As I learn to be a good wife and mother, my mom is still there to show me and help me whenever I need it. While I’ve been in training I have looked to my mother for advice and comfort. When I am an officer, I will continue to look to my mother to show me how to love others, how to preach with power, how to lead and manger effectively and how to seek holiness. Thank you Mom (and dad)!
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Four Flights of Stairs
Four Flights of Stairs
By Betzann Carroll
The four flights of stairs looked very different first thing in the morning, than they did after walking home from a long day’s work. With the wind whipping against my face and my frozen feet sliding along ice encrusted snow mounds in every direction, I trudged on to my fourth floor apartment without an elevator. The stairs seemed to be my enemy. Having made it up those stairs, I comforted myself with the assurance this freezing February 14th would be spent right where I was. As soon as I thawed out I would prepare for a guest.
When my guest arrived, he had another plan. He wanted to go for a ride and discover a new place. I thought it better to visit a new place on the Discovery Channel. We could play a game, read together, or even talk. He was the most handsome and exciting man I had ever dated. I enjoyed his company and applauded his values and faith. Yes, a stimulating conversation would be much more challenging than another trip down “those” stairs. Determination was also one of his virtues. I have since learned he doesn’t give up easily. It was Valentine’s Day and I did not see any flowers or candy behind his back. Maybe he had something in the car. I did want to be with him, in a nice warm room. His authentic New England accent convinced me to bundle up and meet him at the stairs, “those” stairs.
The walk to the car was more pleasant than I imagined. This strong man guided me safely to the car as he covered me with his blanket of muscles. The car was still somewhat warm. Looking over my shoulder I could see the Boston skyline as I glanced around, still looking for hidden flowers or a package. No, nothing in sight. So what, I was in a warm car with the man of my dreams going somewhere, anywhere. I was just fine.
He seemed to be turning off the highway now. The way was dark as he pulled his small Vega under some huge pine trees. When he turned off the headlights, it was pitch black. Always looking ahead, I worried whether we would get stuck in this snow. The engine stopped and there was silence. Please don’t say let’s get out and walk. “Where are we?” I asked. Walden Pond!
It wasn’t so cold. In fact, I think I was getting warm, even hot. “I have something to ask you”, he said. Now my heart was pulsating and anticipation was taking over. There was no music, flowers or candlelight. Until, you guessed it. He asked me that question and twenty-nine years later I am still thrilled.
The cold was not a problem. The biting wind now felt like a summer breeze. And the stairs, I think I floated instead of walked. However, we never lived on the fourth floor after that.
By Betzann Carroll
The four flights of stairs looked very different first thing in the morning, than they did after walking home from a long day’s work. With the wind whipping against my face and my frozen feet sliding along ice encrusted snow mounds in every direction, I trudged on to my fourth floor apartment without an elevator. The stairs seemed to be my enemy. Having made it up those stairs, I comforted myself with the assurance this freezing February 14th would be spent right where I was. As soon as I thawed out I would prepare for a guest.
When my guest arrived, he had another plan. He wanted to go for a ride and discover a new place. I thought it better to visit a new place on the Discovery Channel. We could play a game, read together, or even talk. He was the most handsome and exciting man I had ever dated. I enjoyed his company and applauded his values and faith. Yes, a stimulating conversation would be much more challenging than another trip down “those” stairs. Determination was also one of his virtues. I have since learned he doesn’t give up easily. It was Valentine’s Day and I did not see any flowers or candy behind his back. Maybe he had something in the car. I did want to be with him, in a nice warm room. His authentic New England accent convinced me to bundle up and meet him at the stairs, “those” stairs.
The walk to the car was more pleasant than I imagined. This strong man guided me safely to the car as he covered me with his blanket of muscles. The car was still somewhat warm. Looking over my shoulder I could see the Boston skyline as I glanced around, still looking for hidden flowers or a package. No, nothing in sight. So what, I was in a warm car with the man of my dreams going somewhere, anywhere. I was just fine.
He seemed to be turning off the highway now. The way was dark as he pulled his small Vega under some huge pine trees. When he turned off the headlights, it was pitch black. Always looking ahead, I worried whether we would get stuck in this snow. The engine stopped and there was silence. Please don’t say let’s get out and walk. “Where are we?” I asked. Walden Pond!
It wasn’t so cold. In fact, I think I was getting warm, even hot. “I have something to ask you”, he said. Now my heart was pulsating and anticipation was taking over. There was no music, flowers or candlelight. Until, you guessed it. He asked me that question and twenty-nine years later I am still thrilled.
The cold was not a problem. The biting wind now felt like a summer breeze. And the stairs, I think I floated instead of walked. However, we never lived on the fourth floor after that.
Friday, May 8, 2009
I Was So Excited…
It's getting closer to mothers day and its amazing how many of my Mother's pieces reveal her 'mother's heart' possibly non more than this one.
I Was So Excited…
Major Betzann Carroll
I was so excited…no, that is incorrect!
I was overcome, overwhelmed, even obsessed with anticipation of what the next day would bring. Try as I did, there was no way to visualize in my mind’s eye what would actually take place. Often as similar anxious times approached I could imagine what would transpire and get some sense of composure, but not that night. I fought my way through a restless sleep, until finally, I surrendered and gave in to my thoughts. “As a man thinketh in His Heart, so is He.” I did trust God. And as soon as my mind and heart caught up with each other on this roller coaster of emotions, I knew I could resume my daily pace. How many times can you open a refrigerator door before realizing that there is nothing of interest inside?
Finally it was time to leave for the doctor’s office. We should be in and out in no time. Actually, we should be finished in time for both of us to get to work. We would know once and for all. Yes or no, but no more guessing. I went into the office alone and Steve was waiting somewhat patiently in the car. He had not slept well last night either.
Then as quickly as I left I had returned. The answer, it was yes of course. A child was coming! We were beside ourselves. The excitement grew. Just a few weeks later and our baby was not.
They say that time has a way of healing all pain and memory. They say that babies who abort early on in pregnancy most likely have physical problems and it is usually best for both baby and parents. I have never been able to figure out just who “they” are. They were wrong. Time does not heal. God heals. He allows us courage and strength to see that we are not alone. It is time, which has placed this event behind us. But sometimes I still revisit.
That was twenty-eight years and two children ago. We are grandparents now. Both of our children, with serious congenital diseases, are doing well. Stephen, after two heart surgeries, is a minister with a son of his own. Helen, who was never to see her fourteenth birthday, will soon have a baby of her own.
However, in our hearts is a space shaped just like that tiny baby who never actually felt our touch or heard our voice. Our baby was as real as his parents, which conceived him. We had three children and one quickly left us. But he was our baby.
I Was So Excited…
Major Betzann Carroll
I was so excited…no, that is incorrect!
I was overcome, overwhelmed, even obsessed with anticipation of what the next day would bring. Try as I did, there was no way to visualize in my mind’s eye what would actually take place. Often as similar anxious times approached I could imagine what would transpire and get some sense of composure, but not that night. I fought my way through a restless sleep, until finally, I surrendered and gave in to my thoughts. “As a man thinketh in His Heart, so is He.” I did trust God. And as soon as my mind and heart caught up with each other on this roller coaster of emotions, I knew I could resume my daily pace. How many times can you open a refrigerator door before realizing that there is nothing of interest inside?
Finally it was time to leave for the doctor’s office. We should be in and out in no time. Actually, we should be finished in time for both of us to get to work. We would know once and for all. Yes or no, but no more guessing. I went into the office alone and Steve was waiting somewhat patiently in the car. He had not slept well last night either.
Then as quickly as I left I had returned. The answer, it was yes of course. A child was coming! We were beside ourselves. The excitement grew. Just a few weeks later and our baby was not.
They say that time has a way of healing all pain and memory. They say that babies who abort early on in pregnancy most likely have physical problems and it is usually best for both baby and parents. I have never been able to figure out just who “they” are. They were wrong. Time does not heal. God heals. He allows us courage and strength to see that we are not alone. It is time, which has placed this event behind us. But sometimes I still revisit.
That was twenty-eight years and two children ago. We are grandparents now. Both of our children, with serious congenital diseases, are doing well. Stephen, after two heart surgeries, is a minister with a son of his own. Helen, who was never to see her fourteenth birthday, will soon have a baby of her own.
However, in our hearts is a space shaped just like that tiny baby who never actually felt our touch or heard our voice. Our baby was as real as his parents, which conceived him. We had three children and one quickly left us. But he was our baby.
Thursday, May 7, 2009
I Can’t, I Can’t
I still can't
I Can’t, I Can’t
By Major Betzann Carroll
Dedication to Stephen M. Carroll Jr.
After heart surgery, Stephen was a real boy in every way. He was making up for lost time. He had a real talent for being right in the middle of any and every disturbance. At home, school, or church, Stephen was consistent. His dancing eyes told the story of his quest for excitement and adventure. He wanted to do everything, all at once. He climbed poles in the school hallway, performed stand-up comedy routines during class time and carefully adjusted the temperature dials on Auntie Donna’s aquarium and cooked all the fish inside. He even tried a new language on the school playground, which was interpreted and reported to his father and me, who promptly visited the principal. It was almost as if he was out to prove that although he had a slow start, he could keep up with his friends. “I don’t mean to be bad, Momma. It just happens,” was Stephen’s statement. As hard as he tried, he was always in trouble.
Every morning before I walked him to school we would pray, just Stephen and I. I would take his little hand and say, “Dear Jesus, please help Stephen to have a good day and to be a good boy.” Then he would look up into my eyes, squeeze my hand and say, “I will be good momma.” Then off we would go. When it was time to pick him up there was usually a special message waiting for me. I remember going to visit his kindergarten classroom for Open House. The teacher’s desk was in the room and a student desk was right beside it. I thought to myself that the child who sat at that desk must be hard to control. Later Stephen asked me if I saw his desk. He told me it was the desk right next to the teacher’s desk. He said, “I am the only one in the whole room allowed to sit there.” I had to smile.
One day we were late. It was my delay. I left his sister who was eighteen months younger sleeping and rushed him out the door and down the street. When we were almost there I handed him his snack and pushed him down the street. I encouraged him that he was a big boy and could go the rest of the way by himself. I turned and started for home, when I recognized a scream that stopped me in my tracks. It was Stephen! I knew his cry. “Momma, wait!” he screamed. “I can’t, I can’t!”
Stephen continued to scream as he ran towards me. I could not imagine what had happened. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. I picked him up and tried to comfort him, but there was no comfort for him. He looked me in the eyes and said, “I can’t, I just can’t go to school without my prayer. I will really get in trouble. I need you to say my prayer, so I can be good.” Right there on the sidewalk I held his hand and prayed. He wiped his tears away all by himself and picked up his snack. With a big sigh, he said, “I am a big boy, Momma, and you can go now.”
“Greater is He that is in you than He that is in the world.”
I often close my eyes and remember his words. Being big means we are able to go alone, but never without the presence of the Living God. He learned early where strength was found. Stephen soon began to ride the school bus. Later, he rode a motorcycle. Today, Stephen is in college. He has over come many obstacles, some I would have really struggled with. He is a fine son. I pray he will always realize the value of prayer.
I Can’t, I Can’t
By Major Betzann Carroll
Dedication to Stephen M. Carroll Jr.
After heart surgery, Stephen was a real boy in every way. He was making up for lost time. He had a real talent for being right in the middle of any and every disturbance. At home, school, or church, Stephen was consistent. His dancing eyes told the story of his quest for excitement and adventure. He wanted to do everything, all at once. He climbed poles in the school hallway, performed stand-up comedy routines during class time and carefully adjusted the temperature dials on Auntie Donna’s aquarium and cooked all the fish inside. He even tried a new language on the school playground, which was interpreted and reported to his father and me, who promptly visited the principal. It was almost as if he was out to prove that although he had a slow start, he could keep up with his friends. “I don’t mean to be bad, Momma. It just happens,” was Stephen’s statement. As hard as he tried, he was always in trouble.
Every morning before I walked him to school we would pray, just Stephen and I. I would take his little hand and say, “Dear Jesus, please help Stephen to have a good day and to be a good boy.” Then he would look up into my eyes, squeeze my hand and say, “I will be good momma.” Then off we would go. When it was time to pick him up there was usually a special message waiting for me. I remember going to visit his kindergarten classroom for Open House. The teacher’s desk was in the room and a student desk was right beside it. I thought to myself that the child who sat at that desk must be hard to control. Later Stephen asked me if I saw his desk. He told me it was the desk right next to the teacher’s desk. He said, “I am the only one in the whole room allowed to sit there.” I had to smile.
One day we were late. It was my delay. I left his sister who was eighteen months younger sleeping and rushed him out the door and down the street. When we were almost there I handed him his snack and pushed him down the street. I encouraged him that he was a big boy and could go the rest of the way by himself. I turned and started for home, when I recognized a scream that stopped me in my tracks. It was Stephen! I knew his cry. “Momma, wait!” he screamed. “I can’t, I can’t!”
Stephen continued to scream as he ran towards me. I could not imagine what had happened. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. I picked him up and tried to comfort him, but there was no comfort for him. He looked me in the eyes and said, “I can’t, I just can’t go to school without my prayer. I will really get in trouble. I need you to say my prayer, so I can be good.” Right there on the sidewalk I held his hand and prayed. He wiped his tears away all by himself and picked up his snack. With a big sigh, he said, “I am a big boy, Momma, and you can go now.”
“Greater is He that is in you than He that is in the world.”
I often close my eyes and remember his words. Being big means we are able to go alone, but never without the presence of the Living God. He learned early where strength was found. Stephen soon began to ride the school bus. Later, he rode a motorcycle. Today, Stephen is in college. He has over come many obstacles, some I would have really struggled with. He is a fine son. I pray he will always realize the value of prayer.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Whose Time?
Whose Time?
By Major Betzann Carroll
Dedicated to Stephen Carroll Jr.
It seems like we waited so long for the arrival of our first son. Finally, our 7lb.7oz.son was born. At two weeks old, Stephen was diagnosed with Aortic Stenoses and at two years old he was scheduled for open-heart surgery. His biggest concern at this time was to have a Mickey Mouse watch for his very own. He wanted a Mickey Mouse watch and in his own words, “what the Mickey Hands go round and round.” His daddy promised that after the doctors were all done and his surgery completed, he could have his very own Mickey Mouse Watch. Stephen was fascinated with clocks and watches, and had even attempted on one occasion to take a clock apart and see how it worked.
The day came to hand our only son over to the surgical team at Boston Children’s Hospital. I admit that it may have been the most difficult thing I have ever done. My husband took Stephen from my arms and gave him to the doctors, while I watched. It was difficult, but not as difficult as the waiting. We spent time in the hospital chapel. There we found a woman trying to meditate with chants and movements. There we found a couple trying to light a candle. Between the two, they could not steady their hands long enough to get the candle lit. Still another man was flipping through the “Readers Digest”, obviously looking for some comfort and strength.
We were then asked to wait in the private room, which was connected to Stephen’s surgical team. We would be notified of his condition during various phases of the procedure. This is where we would stay, waiting for the telephone to ring.
Time seemed to stand still. I imagined how I would feel if the telephone rang, and all was well. I could visualize Mickey’s white gloves turning round and round the face of Stephen’s new watch. I thought how exciting it would be to fasten the little red strap about his wrist, the very wrist that was now hooked up with wires of every sort. There was strength in the assurance of God’s Word.
“But when the fullness of time was come, God sent forth His son, made of a woman, made under the law. To redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.” Galatians 4:4,5
God is God! We reminded ourselves that His timing is perfect. God sent His Son to be born at just the right time. The length of our physical life may not be as long as we desire, but our eternal life is forever through Jesus Christ our Lord. We realized that whether Stephen was allowed many more years or just a few, perhaps none at all, he had the assurance of eternal life. God was the very author of time.
Stephen has since out-grown his Mickey Mouse watch. He has also out grown his Super Sports watch, his G.I. Joe watch, and even his underwater Swatch watch. I don’t even think he has a watch today! The physician said the surgery was successful and done at just the right time, which was very important. He could not guarantee that Stephen would have a long life span, but who is guaranteed a long life.
There will come a day when time as we know it will cease. Time will no longer be measured in minutes and hours. Mickey Mouse will retire. When time shall be no more, we shall live forever. God sent His Son at just the right time.
By Major Betzann Carroll
Dedicated to Stephen Carroll Jr.
It seems like we waited so long for the arrival of our first son. Finally, our 7lb.7oz.son was born. At two weeks old, Stephen was diagnosed with Aortic Stenoses and at two years old he was scheduled for open-heart surgery. His biggest concern at this time was to have a Mickey Mouse watch for his very own. He wanted a Mickey Mouse watch and in his own words, “what the Mickey Hands go round and round.” His daddy promised that after the doctors were all done and his surgery completed, he could have his very own Mickey Mouse Watch. Stephen was fascinated with clocks and watches, and had even attempted on one occasion to take a clock apart and see how it worked.
The day came to hand our only son over to the surgical team at Boston Children’s Hospital. I admit that it may have been the most difficult thing I have ever done. My husband took Stephen from my arms and gave him to the doctors, while I watched. It was difficult, but not as difficult as the waiting. We spent time in the hospital chapel. There we found a woman trying to meditate with chants and movements. There we found a couple trying to light a candle. Between the two, they could not steady their hands long enough to get the candle lit. Still another man was flipping through the “Readers Digest”, obviously looking for some comfort and strength.
We were then asked to wait in the private room, which was connected to Stephen’s surgical team. We would be notified of his condition during various phases of the procedure. This is where we would stay, waiting for the telephone to ring.
Time seemed to stand still. I imagined how I would feel if the telephone rang, and all was well. I could visualize Mickey’s white gloves turning round and round the face of Stephen’s new watch. I thought how exciting it would be to fasten the little red strap about his wrist, the very wrist that was now hooked up with wires of every sort. There was strength in the assurance of God’s Word.
“But when the fullness of time was come, God sent forth His son, made of a woman, made under the law. To redeem them that were under the law, that we might receive the adoption of sons.” Galatians 4:4,5
God is God! We reminded ourselves that His timing is perfect. God sent His Son to be born at just the right time. The length of our physical life may not be as long as we desire, but our eternal life is forever through Jesus Christ our Lord. We realized that whether Stephen was allowed many more years or just a few, perhaps none at all, he had the assurance of eternal life. God was the very author of time.
Stephen has since out-grown his Mickey Mouse watch. He has also out grown his Super Sports watch, his G.I. Joe watch, and even his underwater Swatch watch. I don’t even think he has a watch today! The physician said the surgery was successful and done at just the right time, which was very important. He could not guarantee that Stephen would have a long life span, but who is guaranteed a long life.
There will come a day when time as we know it will cease. Time will no longer be measured in minutes and hours. Mickey Mouse will retire. When time shall be no more, we shall live forever. God sent His Son at just the right time.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
When Did She Start Coming?
When Did She Start Coming?
Major Betzann Carroll
(A conversation between two individuals and God)
Speaker #1 Hey, who is that woman up there in the second row, third seat?
Speaker #2 I don’t know, she sort of just appeared one day. I sort of remember two weeks ago Major asking who was new, and there she was.
#1 So, is she a Sally?
#2 A Sally, now what is a Sally?
#1 Don’t be difficult; a Sally is a Sal---va---tion Army soldier. Get it! Is she a Sally?
#2 I told you I don’t know who she is, she appeared a couple of weeks ago and I don’t know if she is a Sally. You don’t know? Why don’t you know if you know everything?
#1 Okay, I deserved that. I was on vacation for the last couple of weeks, remember. I don’t know who she is because I haven’t been here.
#2 Well, that’s simple. Just ask Major when you get a chance; after church or next week. You know. It doesn’t seem like she is going away. Besides, why all the fuss?
#1 I just would like to know.
#2 Why?
#1 Why not? Don’t you want to know when a new person comes? Maybe she would like to come to the dinner. Maybe she is from another corps. Maybe she just moved this way. I would like to know.
#2 Repeat, why?
#1 For the same reason you should want to know; to welcome her and make her feel a part.
#2 Part of what?
#1 Part of us, part of our corps, part of a community. If she is new, well, maybe, we can be friendly.
2. I am listening!
#1 Maybe she can help with something.
#2 With what?
#1 Anything! But maybe she would like to have someone to sit with.
By the way, there seems like there are few new folks here this morning.
#2 I hadn’t noticed.
#1 Well, I see some new folks. When welcome time comes I will meet them.
#2 Lord, if she goes to meet new folks, well, what do I do?
#3 You are no longer foreigners and aliens.
#2 I know that! It is them I am thinking about!
#3 You are members of God’s household. Built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple.
#2 So, if I hear your Word correctly, we all get a seat here? Even new people?
#3 Yes, especially new people. They don’t just get a seat! They can have any seat.
#2 Part of us?
#3 They are not just part of “us” (which I assume you mean the corps) they are a part of Me. They are part of the universal church. We all grow together.
#2 Will you love me any less? Will l have to share your love, your approval? Will I have to share my spot in this church? Share other things?
#3 Share My Love. I am God. I am love, the source of love.
There is no lack of love with me. There is more than enough to go around. Now about your spot! Which I think you’re most worried about. There is more than enough room in the family. You will see. As the family grows so does my work. We grow together. Make room. Now, go ahead, introduce yourself.
#2 You love me! I feel secure in your love. I can reach out and share!
Major Betzann Carroll
(A conversation between two individuals and God)
Speaker #1 Hey, who is that woman up there in the second row, third seat?
Speaker #2 I don’t know, she sort of just appeared one day. I sort of remember two weeks ago Major asking who was new, and there she was.
#1 So, is she a Sally?
#2 A Sally, now what is a Sally?
#1 Don’t be difficult; a Sally is a Sal---va---tion Army soldier. Get it! Is she a Sally?
#2 I told you I don’t know who she is, she appeared a couple of weeks ago and I don’t know if she is a Sally. You don’t know? Why don’t you know if you know everything?
#1 Okay, I deserved that. I was on vacation for the last couple of weeks, remember. I don’t know who she is because I haven’t been here.
#2 Well, that’s simple. Just ask Major when you get a chance; after church or next week. You know. It doesn’t seem like she is going away. Besides, why all the fuss?
#1 I just would like to know.
#2 Why?
#1 Why not? Don’t you want to know when a new person comes? Maybe she would like to come to the dinner. Maybe she is from another corps. Maybe she just moved this way. I would like to know.
#2 Repeat, why?
#1 For the same reason you should want to know; to welcome her and make her feel a part.
#2 Part of what?
#1 Part of us, part of our corps, part of a community. If she is new, well, maybe, we can be friendly.
2. I am listening!
#1 Maybe she can help with something.
#2 With what?
#1 Anything! But maybe she would like to have someone to sit with.
By the way, there seems like there are few new folks here this morning.
#2 I hadn’t noticed.
#1 Well, I see some new folks. When welcome time comes I will meet them.
#2 Lord, if she goes to meet new folks, well, what do I do?
#3 You are no longer foreigners and aliens.
#2 I know that! It is them I am thinking about!
#3 You are members of God’s household. Built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets with Christ Jesus himself as the chief cornerstone. In him the whole building is joined together and rises to become a holy temple.
#2 So, if I hear your Word correctly, we all get a seat here? Even new people?
#3 Yes, especially new people. They don’t just get a seat! They can have any seat.
#2 Part of us?
#3 They are not just part of “us” (which I assume you mean the corps) they are a part of Me. They are part of the universal church. We all grow together.
#2 Will you love me any less? Will l have to share your love, your approval? Will I have to share my spot in this church? Share other things?
#3 Share My Love. I am God. I am love, the source of love.
There is no lack of love with me. There is more than enough to go around. Now about your spot! Which I think you’re most worried about. There is more than enough room in the family. You will see. As the family grows so does my work. We grow together. Make room. Now, go ahead, introduce yourself.
#2 You love me! I feel secure in your love. I can reach out and share!
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