February 16, 2007
Psssst....I've got a secret too
by Dave Burchett visit
www.daveburchett.com
I picked up USA Today today (that drives the grammar check crazy) and found a story about The Secret. What is The Secret? It is a controversial self-help book and DVD that claims to know the secret to happiness. Author Rhonda Byrne says the secret is the law of attraction. If you think positively you become a magnet that pulls everything you want toward you. Whether you want a new job, a million dollars, or a gorgeous girlfriend. I was intrigued. Especially when I discovered that The Secret carries this centuries’ version of the Good Housekeeping Seal…an endorsement from Oprah. Like she needs another million or a new job.
Byrne is an Australian reality-TV producer who discovered “the secret” to obtaining everything you want through studying religious and philosophical texts.
“Everyone has to have their own experience to believe,” says Byrne, 55. “People start with little things like deciding a cup of coffee will come to you or that you’ll see a feather. There’s no difference between attracting a feather and anything else you want. It’s as easy to attract one dollar as it is $10,000.”
I have to admit that as I was writing this post on a flight from Memphis a cup of coffee came to me. The flight attendant on this American Airlines flight pulled a little cart right up to my seat and asked if I wanted something to drink. Amazing. I have to confess that the exact same thing happened yesterday before I knew about the secret. Perhaps I am just gifted at this.
I decided to skip the whole weird feather thing and go right to bigger things. I am going to think positively that you will click on this link right now and buy 5 copies of my books.
I’m waiting.
While I was waiting I found some more dog hairs on my pants. Obviously the polarity has not switched. There are, of course, skeptics of The Secret. Professor Robert Thompson of Syracuse University calls it “at best, silliness” and “good old-American snake oil salesmanship.” Advocates of The Secret tout the law of attraction for everything from finding good parking spots to curing disease. That is a concern. No one dies from getting a bad parking spot. Not surprisingly, the always bizarre celebrity set has jumped on board the phenomenon.
The whole thing just makes me sad. People are so desperate to find something, anything, to give them hope and a little happiness. Like the old country song, I believe they are lookin’ for love in all the wrong places. So I decided to share my secret with you. I have gleaned this from my study of ancient texts and from personal experience. I cannot promise you good parking spots. I cannot promise you a million dollars. I can’t promise you a gorgeous girlfriend or boyfriend. My blog is not endorsed by Oprah.
If you are still interested let me tell you what my secret will give you.
Joy
Purpose
Significance
Strength in times of trouble
Power to forgive
My secret is not a law or rule. My secret is actually The Gift. The Gift is grace. The Gift is given by God. Jesus said that He came that you may have life and have it more abundantly. That verse has been so misapplied by those who claim “Beemers and Baubles” as a sign of God’s blessings. That is not what Jesus said in this text. The abundant life is simple. By living a grace filled life I can forgive the hurt and forget the grip of my past. I can live confidently without fear of the future. And I can live content in the moment. That is a prescription for happiness. When I autopsy what makes me unhappy it fits into one or more of those categories. Regrets from the past, fear of the future, or discontent with the present. The Gift can free from you those joy robbers even you have to go get your own coffee.
That’s my secret. You don’t have to buy my book (but feel free if you want to) to share my secret of The Gift. For further research read the Gospel of John.
Friday, February 16, 2007
Thursday, February 15, 2007
February 15, 2007
Only One Childhood
by: Author Unknown
I stopped to watch my little girl busy playing in her room. In one hand was a plastic phone; in the other a toy broom. I listened as she was speaking to her make believe little friend And I'll never forget the words she said, even though it was pretend.
She said, "Suzie's in the corner cuz she's not been very good. She didn't listen to a word I said or do the things she should." In the corner I saw her baby doll all dressed in lace and pink. It was obvious she'd been put there to sit alone and think.
My daughter continued her "conversation," as I sat down on the floor. She said, "I'm all fed up, I just don't know what to do with her anymore? She whines whenever I have to work and wants to play games, too. She never lets me do the things that I just have to do?
She tries to help me with the dishes, but her arms just cannot reach... And she doesn't know how to fold towels. I don't have the time to teach. I have a lot of work to do and a big house to keep clean. I don't have the time to sit and play -- don't you know what I mean?"
And that day I thought a lot about making some changes in my life; As I listened to her innocent words that cut me like a knife. I hadn't been paying enough attention to what I hold most dear. I'd been caught up in responsibilities that increased throughout the year.
But now my attitude has changed, because, in my heart, I realize... I've seen the world in a different light through my little darling's eyes. So, let the cobwebs have the corners and the dustbunnies rule the floor, I'm not going to worry about keeping up with them anymore.
I'm going to fill the house with memories of a child and her mother... For we are granted only one childhood, and we will never get another.
Only One Childhood
by: Author Unknown
I stopped to watch my little girl busy playing in her room. In one hand was a plastic phone; in the other a toy broom. I listened as she was speaking to her make believe little friend And I'll never forget the words she said, even though it was pretend.
She said, "Suzie's in the corner cuz she's not been very good. She didn't listen to a word I said or do the things she should." In the corner I saw her baby doll all dressed in lace and pink. It was obvious she'd been put there to sit alone and think.
My daughter continued her "conversation," as I sat down on the floor. She said, "I'm all fed up, I just don't know what to do with her anymore? She whines whenever I have to work and wants to play games, too. She never lets me do the things that I just have to do?
She tries to help me with the dishes, but her arms just cannot reach... And she doesn't know how to fold towels. I don't have the time to teach. I have a lot of work to do and a big house to keep clean. I don't have the time to sit and play -- don't you know what I mean?"
And that day I thought a lot about making some changes in my life; As I listened to her innocent words that cut me like a knife. I hadn't been paying enough attention to what I hold most dear. I'd been caught up in responsibilities that increased throughout the year.
But now my attitude has changed, because, in my heart, I realize... I've seen the world in a different light through my little darling's eyes. So, let the cobwebs have the corners and the dustbunnies rule the floor, I'm not going to worry about keeping up with them anymore.
I'm going to fill the house with memories of a child and her mother... For we are granted only one childhood, and we will never get another.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
February 14, 2007
Valentine for Grandma, A
by: Joseph Walker, Heartwarmers4u
It was just a harmless prank, that's all it was.
And it wasn't as if Old Lady Hayes didn't deserve it. The way she used to scream at us for "borrowing" a few of her precious raspberries each summer, like we were stealing gold out of Fort Knox... well, she had it coming.
At least, that's the way we saw it as George finished tying the string to the red, heart-shaped box. We giggled as Ron added the final touch: two plastic red roses, glued to the lid. "I wonder what will surprise her most," I asked as George practiced jerking the box out of reach by yanking on the string. "Seeing a box of candy on her step, or watching it fly away when she tries to pick it up?"
We laughed as we watched George make Albert chase the box around the garage. For a chubby 10-year-old, Albert did a good imitation of Mrs. Hayes's hunched hobble and her seemingly permanent scowl. And we howled when he picked up a broom and pretended to ride it through the midwinter air while shouting, "I'm Old Lady Hayes, the driedest-up old prune in the West!"
Ron was first to notice my dad in the doorway. Within seconds, Ron's anxiety was shared by all but Albert, who continued to swoop around the garage until he came face-to-belt-buckle with our silent observer. For a moment the only movement in the room came from the little puffs of steam escaping our mouths. Dad broke the stillness by walking slowly to the empty candy box lying on the floor. He picked it up and dangled it by the string, watching it swing back and forth. Then he looked into the eyes of the frightened boys. And, as was his custom, he looked into their hearts as well.
"It doesn't seem so long ago that I was pulling Valentine's Day pranks," he said as he laid the box on a workbench. "One year my cousins and I decided to pull one on our Grandma Walker even though we loved her -- she was the sweetest grandma a boy could have. We were just feeling devilish and decided to have some fun at her expense.
"Early in the evening we snuck up to her doorstep with a can of red paint. Grandma was hard of hearing, so we didn't have to worry about being very quiet. Which was a good thing, because every time we thought about how funny it was going to be to see Grandma try to pick up a valentine that was just painted on her doorstep, we couldn't keep from laughing.
"It didn't take long, and it wasn't very artistic. But for an old woman with bad eyes, it would do. We kicked the door and hid behind bushes. When Grandma finally appeared she stood in the doorway, her gray hair pulled back tightly into her usual bun, wiping her hands on her usual apron. She must have heard the commotion in the bushes because she looked in our direction and spoke loudly enough for us to hear: 'Who could be knocking at my door?' Then she looked down. Even from 15 feet away we could see the joy in her eyes when she spotted a splash of red at her feet.
"'A valentine for Grandma!' she exclaimed. 'And I thought I'd be forgotten again this year!'
"She tried to retrieve her prize. This was the moment we had been waiting for, but somehow it wasn't as much fun as we expected. Grandma groped at the fresh paint for a moment. Slowly, she figured out our prank. She tried to smile. Then, with as much dignity as she could muster, she turned and walked back into her house, absently wiping red paint on her clean, white apron."
Dad paused, and for the first time I noticed that his eyes were moist. He took a deep breath. "Grandma died later that year," he said. "I never had another chance to give her a real valentine."
He took the box from the bench and handed it to me. Then he turned and left the garage.
Later that night a red, heart-shaped box with two plastic roses on it was placed on Mrs. Hayes's front doorstep by six giggling boys. We hid behind snow-covered bushes to see how she would react to receiving a full pound of candy and nuts.
With no strings attached.
Valentine for Grandma, A
by: Joseph Walker, Heartwarmers4u
It was just a harmless prank, that's all it was.
And it wasn't as if Old Lady Hayes didn't deserve it. The way she used to scream at us for "borrowing" a few of her precious raspberries each summer, like we were stealing gold out of Fort Knox... well, she had it coming.
At least, that's the way we saw it as George finished tying the string to the red, heart-shaped box. We giggled as Ron added the final touch: two plastic red roses, glued to the lid. "I wonder what will surprise her most," I asked as George practiced jerking the box out of reach by yanking on the string. "Seeing a box of candy on her step, or watching it fly away when she tries to pick it up?"
We laughed as we watched George make Albert chase the box around the garage. For a chubby 10-year-old, Albert did a good imitation of Mrs. Hayes's hunched hobble and her seemingly permanent scowl. And we howled when he picked up a broom and pretended to ride it through the midwinter air while shouting, "I'm Old Lady Hayes, the driedest-up old prune in the West!"
Ron was first to notice my dad in the doorway. Within seconds, Ron's anxiety was shared by all but Albert, who continued to swoop around the garage until he came face-to-belt-buckle with our silent observer. For a moment the only movement in the room came from the little puffs of steam escaping our mouths. Dad broke the stillness by walking slowly to the empty candy box lying on the floor. He picked it up and dangled it by the string, watching it swing back and forth. Then he looked into the eyes of the frightened boys. And, as was his custom, he looked into their hearts as well.
"It doesn't seem so long ago that I was pulling Valentine's Day pranks," he said as he laid the box on a workbench. "One year my cousins and I decided to pull one on our Grandma Walker even though we loved her -- she was the sweetest grandma a boy could have. We were just feeling devilish and decided to have some fun at her expense.
"Early in the evening we snuck up to her doorstep with a can of red paint. Grandma was hard of hearing, so we didn't have to worry about being very quiet. Which was a good thing, because every time we thought about how funny it was going to be to see Grandma try to pick up a valentine that was just painted on her doorstep, we couldn't keep from laughing.
"It didn't take long, and it wasn't very artistic. But for an old woman with bad eyes, it would do. We kicked the door and hid behind bushes. When Grandma finally appeared she stood in the doorway, her gray hair pulled back tightly into her usual bun, wiping her hands on her usual apron. She must have heard the commotion in the bushes because she looked in our direction and spoke loudly enough for us to hear: 'Who could be knocking at my door?' Then she looked down. Even from 15 feet away we could see the joy in her eyes when she spotted a splash of red at her feet.
"'A valentine for Grandma!' she exclaimed. 'And I thought I'd be forgotten again this year!'
"She tried to retrieve her prize. This was the moment we had been waiting for, but somehow it wasn't as much fun as we expected. Grandma groped at the fresh paint for a moment. Slowly, she figured out our prank. She tried to smile. Then, with as much dignity as she could muster, she turned and walked back into her house, absently wiping red paint on her clean, white apron."
Dad paused, and for the first time I noticed that his eyes were moist. He took a deep breath. "Grandma died later that year," he said. "I never had another chance to give her a real valentine."
He took the box from the bench and handed it to me. Then he turned and left the garage.
Later that night a red, heart-shaped box with two plastic roses on it was placed on Mrs. Hayes's front doorstep by six giggling boys. We hid behind snow-covered bushes to see how she would react to receiving a full pound of candy and nuts.
With no strings attached.
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