Jesus Christ Is Born!

Autor Hans Bieri [email protected] www.hans-bieri.ch/de ISBN 978-3-033-04083-0 Dotzigenstrasse 18 CH-3264 Diessbach Schwitzerland The E-Book: "Call from Heaven" Autobiography of a pilot, You can download and save online in various languages for free. http://hans-bieri.ch/de Available versions: German: pdf English: pdf Chinese: pdf You should know that! It doesn't matter whether you are reformed, Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist, Muslim, esoteric, or any other religion. But if you want to go to the eternal kingdom of heaven, you need Jesus Christ and nothing else, that's the only way. Because Jesus says: "I am the way of truth and life, whoever has me also has the father, whoever does not have me also does not have the father". No religion except the gospel of Jesus Christ leads you to the kingdom of heaven. Every religion in this world is idolatry! ~ 1 ~ About the book Hans Bieri guides the reader through his life. Flowery and sensitive, he describes his restless childhood as a hiring boy, with numerous changes of school and place of residence, his courageous emigration to Canada in the 1960s, his life as a professional pilot and the task of his dream job in order to be able to start and care for a family. Numerous photos underline the experiences and events in Bieri's colorful life. Letters to his children and grandchildren, as well as lovingly selected Bible passages, depict the life and character of a special person. Bieri's language is extremely flowery and touching. So he takes the reader by the hand and shows him the blossoming cherry tree, under which he admires a plane for the first time as a little boy, describes the first look into the violet-blue eyes of his great love, the feeling when he holds his daughter in his arms holds and trust in God in all phases of life. Hans Bieri's autobiography is aimed at all readers who want to get a detailed insight into the life of a man who wants to touch the reader with his story as well as with his relationship with God. An exciting and very worth reading story! ~ 2 ~ "Call from Heaven" Yes, the Lord calls you: I am your only god! And Jesus said: Strive to enter by the narrow door! For many will seek to enter and will not be able. And it's that simple: Search Jesus, you will find him, then you have found heaven! Jesus calls to you: Give me your hand, i will take it, believe in me with all my heart and don't doubt me then you will live with me forever! ~ 3 ~ Dedicated to: My wife, my children, my daughter-in-law, mine, grandchildren, to all my relatives and to everyone in the world who read these words that I have written down for you here. God lets you say through Jesus Christ: There is no savior except me! ~ 4 ~ Introduction I’ll begin by telling you about how I came to know God and Jesus Christ, and also about the evidence that I received for their existence and the many miracles that I experienced. I’ll then recount some words from the Bible that are especially important to me. They’ve always strengthened my resolve to follow only God’s path, and they’re words that you don’t normally hear from the pulpit. Over the course of my life, I’ve seen many people read books, but I’ve never seen anyone read the Bible. People act as if they’ve been poisoned if they as much as hear its words. If they were to read it and someone was to see what they were doing, that would be the absolute end. They’d want the earth to swallow them up. Yes: Never go anywhere near a Bible! I’m going to amaze you and show you just how unique the Bible really is. Start reading and see how you’re surprised! If you put in the effort, you’ll be rewarded with wisdom. God says that to become truly wise, we must first shake off our earthly wisdoms. True wisdom involves nothing more than taking God seriously, loving him, trusting and hoping in him with all our power and with all our thoughts and actions, and believing in him yesterday, today, tomorrow and for all eternity. Amen! Don’t assume that I spent my childhood on the straight and narrow or that I’ve been a flawlessly pious man. ‘Revolutionary’ and ‘rascal’ are probably better terms. But I’ve always helped the weak and the oppressed, and I despise treachery, lies, intrigue, hypocrisy, falseness – and especially ‘do-gooders’ who ~ 5 ~ look like sheep, but who are actually wolves. I’ve always fended for myself and have had to fight my way through life. When I needed help, my supposed friends all soon disappeared. But anyway: it’s best to start reading. You won’t be bored! I was born at 20:30 on 8th December, 1944. Courtelary is in Switzerland, some 695 metres above sea level and 14 km to the west-north-west of Biel/Bienne as the crow flies. The village is spread out over both sides of the River Suze and lies in the central part of the Saint Imier valley in the Jura mountains. At the top of the valley’s northern slope, right among the lush Jura firs, is a single small farmstead that has a beautiful view over the green and fertile valley below. A young boy, born to fly On a gentle slope next to the farm, a young boy, not quite four years old, sits among tall hay under a blossoming cherry tree. His legs are bent at the knee, and he’s resting his elbows on his knees while supporting his head with his fists and chewing on a blade of grass. His crystal clear, almost unblinking eyes gaze down at the small airfield that’s two kilometres in the distance, and he watches as the planes take off and land. This is my earliest memory, and it happened in 1948. I didn’t know that 18 years later, at 15:50 on 24th March, 1967, I’d be starting a plane on this very airfield and preparing to pull a glider up and over the Jura range. I worked as a tow pilot in my spare time. My mother and father bought our farm shortly after the end of the Second World War. I had three sisters and three brothers. Money was always in short supply, so my father worked in a ~ 6 ~ nearby chocolate factory while my mother cared for our cattle and land. I could watch the planes for hours, and even days, at a time; I was transported to another world. Only my mother’s shouts could jolt me, and normally then only after I’d already been called for dinner at least three times. A new home My parents sold the property in the Jura mountains in 1949 and bought a small, detached house in Wahlendorf auf dem Frienisberg. My father worked in construction, but his earnings were never quite enough for our needs. Our mother had a hard life seeing that we all always got through the days and the winters. In summer, we went to the forest almost daily to collect mushrooms. We also gathered wood from the forest floor to use for cooking, and for heating in the winter. We earned between four and five Francs for the mushrooms, and we immediately turned these into milk and bread. My mother helped farmers as well, doing everything from milking cows to reaping crops. This added a few more Francs to the family pot, but also meant that we children were often alone at home. We regularly found ourselves in a lot of mischief, and I have to be honest and say that I was always the ringleader. My brother Walter, but only by a whisker! I’ll never forget one of our silly escapades. I was six years old at the time, and I was alone at home with my younger brother, Walter. Our house was on a small hill, and there was a road about fifteen metres away and two metres down. There of course weren’t any tarmacked roads in Wahlendorf at the time. The baker drove down the road every day at exactly the same time to deliver bread and pastries. He had an old car with very high wheels that left a lot of space underneath the vehicle. We’d taken apart an old pram and built a seat between its wheels. I still don’t ~ 7 ~ know how I came up with the hare-brained idea, but I decided to sit my brother on this seat – he was five years old at the time – and push him down the hill when the baker came. He’d go under the car and quickly come out again on the other side. We readied ourselves, and the baker came right on time, just like always. Walter perched himself on the cart and placed his trust in my launch. After a quick estimate as to how fast the car was approaching, I decided how much power was need to make the racing car, as we called it, go right between the baker’s car’s wheels. Okay, it was time! One, two, three and away! The prank didn’t go to plan; my push was too strong. The cart went under the front of the car and rattled and screeched before my brother came out from the rear, grazed and covered in scratches.

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