heathbooks

Stockist of reformed, evangelical Christian literature for both adults and children. Also CD's, DVD's, audio books, cards and a small selection of gifts.

[heathbooks @heathshop]

We’re opening on Saturdays from 10am-2pm for early Christmas shopping.

[heathbooks @heathshop]

https://t.co/eHOZgAqE9i

[heathbooks @heathshop]

Our bookshop recommendations for this month

[heathbooks @heathshop]

Celebrating 50 years of our Bookshop on Saturday 27 September. Special service at 3pm in the church led by our Pastor with refreshments afterwards and discounts available on books in the shop

[heathbooks @heathshop]

Secondhand book sale in the church hall tomorrow from 11am -4pm. Good reductions!! Light refreshments available.

[heathbooks @heathshop]

Our bookshop has been painted and redesigned to allow easier access to the books and cards. Come in for a look!
Sale of secondhand books in our church hall on Saturday 6 September from 11-4pm. Light refreshments provided

[Dustin Benge @DustinBenge]

The James Webb Telescope just mapped 800,000 galaxies spanning 13.5 billion years of space. Scripture simply says:

“… He made the stars also” (Gen. 1:16)

I love how God’s creation of galaxies is mentioned like it was no big deal—effortless majesty!

[Chad Bird @birdchadlouis]

Into what kind of world was God born? A world full of hurting people who hurt each other, hurt themselves, and sometimes will do terrible things to themselves just to make the hurt stop.

For them, for you, God was born. For bruised children and broken men. For wounded soldiers and battered wives. For you—no matter your hurt, no matter how screwed up your life is, no matter what kinds of stupid decisions you’ve made, no matter how filthy and vile and useless you think you are—for precisely you God was born.

He gladly left a bright and shiny heaven to plunge headfirst into the mud and muck of our world full of darkness and unbelief and tragedy. He didn’t stand in the light and beckon you out of the darkness.

He invaded the night.
He came in search of you.

Into this mad world, oozing with pain, racked with guilt, pockmarked with graves, God gladly and willingly was born to make you his own flesh and blood.

The deeper you have fallen, the farther he will dig to find you. The darker your despair, the more light he will bring to seek you out. The farther away from God you are, the better he sees you.

No life has sunk so unfathomably deep that he cannot dig down to grasp you by the hand and climb out of the pit with you in his arms.

That’s the kind of God who was born on Christmas. That’s the God that Jesus is for you.

Merry Christmas!

[Chad Bird @birdchadlouis]

There comes a point in every believer’s life when you realize you had everything backward: you thought you were holding on to the promises of God and you realize, no, those promises were holding on to you with an iron grip.

You supposed that were striding along the path of holiness but, no, you, an unholy sinner, are being borne along on the shoulders of the Holy One of God.

You thought you had a tight grip on the word and work of Jesus but, no, you were held captive, seized, nailed to Jesus himself, with whom you co-die and are co-buried and rise to newness of life.

You silly Christian, you never had a single thing to do with it; it was all done to you and for you while God, for a time, just let you carry on your little daydream that you had a little skin in the game of salvation.

But now you awake to the reality; it was Jesus, Jesus, only Jesus, all along, doing it all for you and in you.

[H. H. H. @helgihh]

Every once in a while, a ewe will give birth to a lamb and reject it. If the lamb is returned to the ewe, the mother may even kick the poor animal away. Once a ewe rejects one of her lambs, she will never change her mind.

These little lambs will hang their heads so low that it looks like something is wrong with its neck. Their spirit is broken. These lambs are called “bummer lambs.”

Unless the shepherd intervenes, that lamb will die, rejected and alone. So, do you know what the shepherd does? He takes that rejected little one into his home, hand-feeds it and keep it warm by the fire. He will wrap it up with blankets and hold it to his chest so the bummer can hear his heartbeat.

Once the lamb is strong enough, the shepherd will place it back in the field with the rest of the flock. But that sheep never forgets how the shepherd cared for him when his mother rejected him.

When the shepherd calls for the flock, guess who runs to him first? That is right, the bummer sheep. He knows his voice intimately. It is not that the bummer lamb is loved more, it just knows intimately the one who loves it.

So many of us are bummer lambs, rejected and broken. But He is the good Shepherd. He cares for our every need and holds us close to His heart so we can hear His heart beat. We may be broken but we are deeply loved by the Shepherd.

[RANDYS777 @RandySevy]

"My name is Nicki Cruz."
I was born into a family bound by witchcraft. My father was a satanic priest, my mother was a witch. My parents were deeply immersed in shamanism and black magic.
When I was born, I was raised and dedicated to Satan, my head was anointed with blood. I inherited my father's mantle, so it became a curse on my life.
When I was a child, I never got a single kiss from my mother, nor did I kiss her. I felt like i died when I was eight years old when i heard my mother say she didn't love me..
I felt no affection and I got brutally beat up multiple times until I was eight.
Many times i lay unconscious in a pool of blood.
At the age of 4 I wanted to kill myself
You know when your mom calls you "freak", "bastard" it really hurts.
I eventually realized she didn't love me and I hated her because of it…that I screamed with a broken heart that I would rather be called a "nothing" than to be called her son.
The last time she slapped me I was 8 years old, I swore I would never love anyone and cry again in my life.
At the age of fifteen I ended up in New York in the Mau Mau gang named after a blood thirsty African tribe.
The gang became my "family" that I never had.
A family of hooligans who draw their strength from each other and look out for each other.
New York is a city where you have to have eyes in your neck. It was all about survival. You had to abide by the laws of the jungle. And the beast doesn't know the difference between good and evil. The beast must be killed to survive.
I could always remember my mother's voice grabbing my hair and smashing my head against the wall so blood would flow.
I tried to look into her eyes like fireballs to see something human but all I saw was coldness and hate. And I heard "You're not my son, I don't love you! Get out of my life, I don't want to see you! "
Being in that gang I knew I was gonna die young, but in my life I was already dead. I died when I was eight years old when my mother said she didn't love me.
At 16, I led that gang myself in New York.
I fell into the depths of hell, thought about suicide many times.
When the police arrested me, I was isolated from all the other prisoners because I was dangerous.
The court ordered me to see a psychiatrist. Finally I met Dr. Goodman He took me to one of the worst hospitals ever a very famous hospital for crazy people. Then he took me to another psychiatric clinic in Manhattan.
Six months later, when we were walking with him on the street, he directly told me, "You're just cold! I tried to infiltrate you, punch you in the chest to get some kind of emotional response. But you're completely lifeless, you're very dangerous!”
And he said “there ain’t nothing I can do for you Nicki! You go straight to jail to the electric chair. F## you! And there is no hope for you. You are dead!”
But by the grace of God these words did not come to pass!
God became my last hope and in my misery He found me. I never thought about God in my childhood until suddenly this man, Pastor Wilkerson, fell down from heaven into our neighborhood.
The police warned him: "They are going to kill you." This jungle, this a battlefield "All we gotta do is come get your body. "
Wilkerson answered them with great conviction: "God will be with me!"
The police said, "We hope he's going with you because we're not going!"
This man was used by God. When I showed no interest in anyone, God showed interest. He put great love in this man's heart and brought him to New York's biggest city with a message of hope.
Just two weeks before this, my psychiatrist said: “Nicky, you’re stepping on the electric chair and you’re going to hell! "
But Wilkerson said “no he’s not!”
It's heaven, it's God. It's Jesus Christ who died for your sins, who gave his life for you, just like you're willing to give your life for your friends, gang members, boyfriends and girlfriends.
There is a God who is truly the living God His name we remember. But when one of you dies - no one remembers you, you're not there anymore. But Jesus is always there. He is not dying ! "
And this is the most important news David Wilkerson has ever given me.
And I approached him and started hitting him.
I would not let him go. He couldn't get rid of me that easy.
I cursed him, his God and everything in this world.
Like a wild animal, I jumped on him, grabbed his hair and began banging his head against the wall. Just like my mother did to me.
But this guy, ignoring the pain and blood, said in the middle of the street, in the presence of three hundred witnesses, "Nicky, I'm not scared."
“I came here to give you the news from heaven. I came to tell you Nikki Jesus loves you! "
And when he told me that, I withdrew."
I've got my eyes on him. And he said, "If you want, you can kill me." And I know you can. But even if you kill me and cut me into a thousand pieces and scatter them across the street, remember: every piece will scream to you: Nicki, Jesus loves you! "
This hit me hard. It felt like a stroke in the heart.
Two weeks later I went to listen to this man.
I didn't go alone, I brought 70 guys as security to listen to this skinny guy.
To my great surprise, two thousand people were already there. Twelve gangs. We came prepared. I came in with a loaded 22 caliber pistol.
And that night for seven minutes, even though I was so restless, high off drugs, seven minutes later something happened to me that night.
Wilkerson told why Jesus came to earth. What really moved me was the crucifixion of Jesus Christ.
The first few minutes seemed boring to me.
But then I saw Jesus Christ crucified before my eyes, so alive that I thought I was there, and saw Him die.
And this has touched me deeply.
I was struck by the perseverance of Jesus. Loyalty to friendship. He, Jesus, friend, the best friend you could ever have.
He is not a lying politician who promises a lot and fails to deliver. He promises you eternal life. He promised to die for you - and He fulfilled it. And I admire a Jesus like that.
It was the first time in my life I felt respect for someone. And this honor brought me to kneel before my saviour Jesus Christ.
Glory be to Jesus! "
Today, Nicky Cruz travels the world, ministering and preaching the gospel.
The former callous "beast" teaches people about forgiveness and love.
He is the founder of the "Ministry of Nicki Cruz" which helps young people leave a life of crime and turn to Christ and serve Him.
Pastor Cruz is also the author of many books, including a bestseller, "Run, Baby Run."

[Tony Rucinski 🇬🇧 @VisionTony]

Boom !💥
Simples 😊

[heathbooks @heathshop]

Easter cards available in our bookshop

[heathbooks @heathshop]

@katemacrae Awwww! Xx

[The Gospel Coalition @TGC]

As I look back, God was saying, ‘Son, when a child of mine makes a request, I always give that person what he or she would have asked for if they knew everything I know.

—Tim Keller

https://t.co/eZP1DPz678

[heathbooks @heathshop]

We’re open again this Saturday and next for books, cards and presents. Light refreshments also available.

[UFM Worldwide @ufmworldwide]

On this International Day of Persons with Disabilities, UFM mission partners serving with the Casa Mea Foundation share about the life-changing work - both practically and spiritually - taking place in Moldova. Read their story on our website: https://t.co/PZw4LXazAM #IDPWD23

[Chad Bird @birdchadlouis]

The Dumpster Sermon

I heard one of the shortest but most memorable sermons not from a pulpit but from beside a dumpster. I had pulled my semi up behind a convenience store to grab a cup of coffee. As I climbed out of the truck, a woman walked up to me. Her face burned a deep brown. Stained jeans and sockless shoes and weary eyes. “Sir,” she said, “I hate to bother you, but can you help me?” Pointing over her shoulder, she said her husband was in the dumpster. They were hungry and he was digging for food. Could I give them anything?

When I came out of the store a few minutes later, she and her husband were standing beside my truck. I handed them the two submarine sandwiches I’d bought inside. The man took them, handed them to his wife, and stretched out his hand. I shook it, feeling the grime and grease of the dumpster on his palm. On his weathered face glowed a gratitude more profound than anything I’ve ever witnessed. “Thank you, sir,” he said, “thank you so much. We don’t have hardly nothing. Just got to town a few nights ago. Been sleeping under the bridge over there. But God, he always seems to send people to help us out. Jesus been good to us that way. He always provides.” And thanking me again, they walked away, out of my life, but never from my memory and gratitude.

A man who had no address, no car, no savings account, who was about to eat out of a trash can—he told me that “Jesus been good to us that way.”

Every time I think of that dumpster sermon, uttered by a homeless prophet, I remind myself that wisdom lurks in the outer places. Rich gratitude among the impoverished and forgotten. Jesus been good to us that way. Yes, he has. And Jesus was good to me in sending that man into my life for a few brief moments. He reminded me that God has friends in low places. In low places profound faith flourishes. And from those low places resounds the voice of God from the lips of his people.

Thank God for pastors, for church leaders, for bestselling Christian authors, for all those in positions of prominence whom Christ uses to proclaim his Good News of salvation for the world. But thank God too for people who have never read a word of Martin Luther or Karl Barth but whose lives are inked through and through with the theology of the cross. They drive tractors, flip burgers, shingle roofs, and, yes, dig through dumpsters.

Each of them embodies the earthiness of theology. The same God born in a barn and laid in a feed trough is swaddled in the ordinaries of their unawesome lives. The same God who had nowhere to lay his head sleeps with them under interstate bridges. The same God who was blackballed by the religious highbrows of his day sits and mourns with those who have been broken by the church. The same God who died between two crooks hangs out with cons and ex-cons today. The same God who let a prostitute weep on his feet and dry them with her hair embraces and kisses believing women today who have been entangled in the sex trade. He is the God of the cross who is found where the world doesn’t seek him—or, all too often, where the church doesn’t expect him to be. Jesus is there for them, for us, for all people. He is a God of surprises, whose ways shock us into expanding our horizons. The laborers in his vineyard may wear suits and ties, boots and jeans, or leather and tats. But they are all his laborers. Or more precisely, his children. God’s family is full of misfits. Always has been, always will be. For our Father’s family is founded on grace, not goodness.

-Adapted from my book, Your God Is Too Glorious (2nd Edition), available at https://t.co/Tc3bvc4WDB or Amazon