January 22, 2007

The American Dollar Bill
Author Unknown

Take out an old one dollar bill and look at it. The old dollar bills, before the redesign in the late 90s, first came off the presses in 1957. This so-called paper money is in fact a cotton and linen blend, with minute red and blue silk fibers running through it. It is actually a fabric material. We've all washed one without it falling apart. A special blend of ink is used, the contents of which we will never know. It's overprinted with symbols and then it is starched to make it water resistant and pressed to give it that nice crisp look and feel.

Look on the front of the old dollar bill. You will see the United States Treasury Seal. On the top you will see the scales for the balance - a balanced budget. In the center there's a carpenter's T-square, a tool used for an even cut (not to mention for Masonic emblems, such as the all-seeing eye). Underneath is the Key to the United States Treasury. That's all pretty easy to figure out, but what is on the back of the old dollar bill is something we should all know. If you turn the bill over, you will see two circles. Both circles, together, comprise the Great Seal of the United States. The First Continental Congress requested that Benjamin Franklin and a group of men come up with a Seal. It took them four years to accomplish this task and another two years to get it approved.

If you look at the left hand circle, you will see a Pyramid. Notice the face is lighted and the western side is dark. This country was just beginning. We had not begun to explore the West or decided what we could do for Western Civilization. The Pyramid is uncapped, again signifying that we were not even close to being finished. Inside the capstone you have the all-seeing eye, and ancient symbol for divinity. It was Franklin's belief that one man couldn't do it alone, but a group of men, with the help of God, could do anything.

"IN GOD WE TRUST" is on this currency because our 16th President, Abraham Lincoln, wanted it that way. The Latin above the pyramid, ANNUIT COEPTIS, means "God has favored our undertaking." The Latin below the pyramid, NOVUS ORDO SECLORUM, means "a new order has begun." At the base of the pyramid is the Roman Numeral for 1776. If you look at the right-hand circle, and check it carefully, you will learn that it is on every National Cemetery in the United States. It is also on the Parade of Flags Walkway at the Bushnell, Florida, National Cemetery and is the centerpiece of most hero's monuments. Slightly modified, it is the seal of the President of the United States and it is always visible whenever he speaks, yet no one knows what the symbols mean.

The bald eagle was selected as a symbol for victory for two reasons: first, he is not afraid of a storm; he is strong and smart enough to soar above it. Second, he wears no material crown. We had just broken from the King of England. Also, notice that the shield is unsupported. This country can now stand on its own. The white bar at the top of the shield signifies congress, a unifying factor. We were coming together as one nation. In the eagle's beak you will read, "E PLURIBUS UNUM", meaning "one nation from many people." Above the eagle you have thirteen stars representing the thirteen original colonies, and any clouds of misunderstanding rolling away. Again, we were coming together as one. Notice what the eagle holds in his talons. He holds an olive branch and arrows. This country wants peace, but we will never be afraid to fight to preserve peace. The eagle always wants to face the olive branch, but in time of war, his gaze turns toward the arrows.

There is a superstition that the number 13 is unlucky. This is almost a worldwide belief. You will usually not see a room numbered 13, or any hotels or motels with a 13th floor. But think about this: 13 original colonies, 13 signers of the Declaration of Independence, 13 stripes on our flag, 13 steps on the Pyramid, 13 letters in the Latin above, 13 letters in "E Pluribus Unum", 13 stars above the Eagle, 13 plumes of feathers on each span of the agle's wing, 13 bars on that shield, 13 leaves on the olive branch, 13 fruits, and if you look closely, 13 arrows. And for minorities: the 13th Amendment.

I always ask people, "Why don't you know this?" Your children don't know this and their history teachers don't know it, either. Too many Americans have given up too much to ever let the meaning fade. Many veterans remember coming home to an America that didn't care. Too many veterans never came home at all. Tell everyone you know what is on the back of the one dollar bill and what it stands for, because nobody else will. It is valuable information, for all Americans, to better understand and appreciate the vision and ideals of our forefathers. Help keep their vision and memory alive.

January 18, 2007


The Mountain Climber
Author Unknown

They tell the story of a mountain climber who, desperate to conquer the Aconcagua, initiated his climb after years of preparation. But he wanted the glory to himself, therefore, he went up alone. He started climbing and it was becoming later, and later. He did not prepare for camping, but decided to keep on going. Soon it got dark. Night fell with heaviness at a very high altitude. Visibility was zero. Everything was black. There was no moon, and the stars were covered by clouds.As he was climbing a ridge at about 100 meters from the top, he slipped and fell.

Falling rapidly he could only see blotches of darkness that passed. He felt a terrible sensation of being sucked in by gravity. He kept falling... and in those anguishing moments good and bad memories passed through his mind. He thought certainly he would die.But then he felt a jolt that almost tore him in half. Yes! Like any good mountain climber he had staked himself with a long rope tied to his waist. In those moments of stillness, suspended in the air he had no other choice but to shout: "HELP ME GOD. HELP ME!"

All of a sudden he heard a deep voice from heaven... "What do you want me to do?" "SAVE ME.""Do you REALLY think that I can save you?" "OF COURSE, MY GOD.""Then cut the rope that is holding you up."There was another moment of silence and stillness. The man just held tighter to the rope. The rescue team says that the next day they found a frozen mountain climber hanging strongly to a rope... TWO FEET OFF THE GROUND. ------------

How about you? How trusting are you in that rope? Why don't you let it go? I tell you, God has great and marvelous things planned for you.

CUT THE ROPE AND SIMPLY TRUST IN HIM.

January 17, 2007

KEEPERS
Author Unknown

I grew up in the 40s/50s with practical parents. A mother, God love her, who washed aluminum foil after she cooked in it, then reused it. She was the original recycle queen, before they had a Name for it... A father who was happier getting old shoes fixed than buying new ones. Their marriage was good, their dreams focused. Their best friends lived barely a wave away. I can see them now... Dad, in trousers, tee shirt and a hat, mowing the lawn or checking the oil in the car -- Mom, in a house dress, with a child's spelling list in one hand and a cooking spoon in the other.

It was the time for fixing things. A curtain rod, the kitchen radio, screen door, the oven door, the hem in a dress. Things we kept.It was a way of life, and sometimes it made me crazy. All that re-fixing, eating leftovers, reusing, I wanted just once to be wasteful. Waste meant affluence. Throwing things away meant you knew there'd always be more.But then my mother died, and on that clear summer's night, in the warmth of the hospital room, I was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't any more.

Sometimes, what we care about most gets all used up and goes away... never to return. So, while we have it... it's best we love it... and care for it... and fix it when it's broken... and heal it when it's sick.This is true for marriage... and old cars... and children with bad report cards... and dogs with bad hips... and aging parents... and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it. Some things we keep. Like a best friend that moved away or a classmate we grew up with.

There are just some things that make life important, like people we know who are special... and so, we keep them close!

January 15, 2007

A lecturer, when explaining stress management to an audience, raised aglass of water and asked, "How heavy is this glass of water?"Answers called out ranged from 20g to 500g.The lecturer replied, "The absolute weight doesn't matter.It depends on how long you try to hold it.If I hold it for a minute, that's not a problem.If I hold it for an hour, I'll have an ache in my right arm.If I hold it for a day, you'll have to call an ambulance.In each case, it's the same weight, but the longer I hold it, the heavier it becomes."He continued, "

And that's the way it is with stress management.If we carry our burdens all the time, sooner or later,as the burden becomes increasingly heavy,we won't be able to carry on.""As with the glass of water, you have to put it down for a while and rest before holding it again.When we're refreshed, we can carry on with the burden.""

So, before you return home tonight, put the burden of work down.Don 't carry it home.You can pick it up tomorrow.Whatever burdens you're carrying now, let them down for a moment if you can.Relax; pick them up later after you've rested.

Life is short. Enjoy it!"

January 9, 2007

Don't Worry--
Author Unknown

Years ago, I was enthralled as I listened to a pastor who for several years had faithfully served the church. His executive responsibilities had taken him all over this country. As he concluded his message, he told of one of the most frightening, yet thought-provoking, experiences of his life.He had been on a long flight from one place to another. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten your seat belts. Then, after a while, a calm voice said, "We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened."

As he looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive. Later, the voice of the announcer said, "We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us."Then the storm broke. The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightening lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him.

He said, "As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm.Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and every thing within her small world was calm and orderly. Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she would straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world. When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity,when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid."

The minister could hardly believe his eyes.It was not surprising therefore, that when the plane finally reached its destination and all the passengers were hurrying to disembark,our pastor lingered to speak to the girl whom he had watched for such a long time. Having commented about the storm and behavior of the plane, he asked why she had not been afraid.The child replied, "'Cause my Daddy's the pilot, and he's taking me home."

There are many kinds of storms that buffet us:• Physical,• Mental,• Financial,• Domestic, and...Many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrollable movement. We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky.Let us remember... Our Father is the Pilot. He is in control and taking us home... so Don't Worry.

January 8, 2007

The Brick
Author Unknown

A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar.He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something. As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the Jag's side door!He slammed on the brakes and backed the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.

The angry driver then jumped out of the car, grabbed the nearest kid and pushed him up against a parked car shouting, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what the heck are you doing? That's a new car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do it?"The young boy was apologetic."Please, mister... please, I'm sorry but I didn't know what else to do," He pleaded. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop... " With tears dripping down his face and off his chin, the youth pointed to a spot just around a parked car."It's my brother," he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."Now sobbing, the boy asked the stunned executive, "Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and he's too heavy for me."

Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in his throat. He hurriedly lifted the handicapped boy back into the wheelchair, then took out a linen handkerchief and dabbed at the fresh scrapes and cuts.A quick look told him everything was going to be okay."Thank you and may God bless you," the grateful child told the stranger.Too shook up for words, the man simply watched the boy push his wheelchair-bound brother down the sidewalk toward their home.

It was a long, slow walk back to the Jaguar.The damage was very noticeable, but the driver never bothered to repair the dented side door. He kept the dent there to remind him of this message."Don't go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention!"God whispers in our souls and speaks to our hearts.

Sometimes when we don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at us. It's our choice to listen or not.

January 5, 2007

The geneticist and his clone

A geneticist and his assistant had been working on 30 years on a cloning project. Finally the day come when the assistant said, "It's been great, but I think it's time for me to retire." The geneticist told him, "But we're almost finished with this experiment, could you wait another year?""No sir, my mind's made up. It's been good working with you," came the reply, as the assistant began packing his things.

The geneticst grew frantic. "But I can't complete my work without you! Could you at least stay until I have made a clone of you?"The assistant pondered on this for a few moments, and then agreed. It wasn't very long before the geneticst was able to successfully create an identical clone of the assistant. His assistant left as scheduled, and the clone took over the duties.

All was good, except for one minor flaw: the clone swore worse than a drunken sailor. Time and time again, the geneticst tried to reprimand the clone on his behavior, but it was no use. The more reprimands the clone recieved, the more foul his language would become.Finally, the geneticst got an idea. "Come with me...we'll go out to my cabin in the woods, and we can spend a weekend to just get away from it all."

A few days later, they set off on their trip, with no sign of civilization for miles around.The geneticst had hoped to use the peace and beauty of nature to snap the clone out of his language problems. But the plan failed. On one of their hikes, as they were nearing the mountain top, the clone started to spew forth insults so severe that even the most weathered sailor would have blushed. The geneticst had enough and yelled at the clone, "What am I going to do with you?! You can't go on like this, with your constant flow of insults! Stop it NOW!"

The clone was startled, because in all this time, the geneticst had never once raised his voice. So startled, in fact, that he lost his grip and fell down...down...down the mountainside.The geneticst felt badly, and started the climb down the slope, hoping that things wouldn't be too bad. But it was worse than he feared. Several rangers had seen the man fall, and there was no hope for the clone. He had suffered fatal injuries, and was pronounced dead at the scene.

The geneticst was eventually found guilty of making an obscene clone fall.

Pick of the Week - Failure List of the Famous


Einstein was 4 years old before he could speak.

Iassc Newton did poorly in grade school and was considered "unpromising."

When Thomas Edison was a youngster, his teacher told him he was too stupid to learn anything. He was counseled to go into a field where he might succeed by virtue of his pleasant personality.

F.W. Woolworth got a job in a dry goods store when he was 21, but his boss would not permit him to wait on customers because he "didn't have enough sense to close a sale."

Michael Jordan was cut from his high school basketball team. Bob Cousy suffered the same fate, but he too is a Hall of Famer.

A newspaper editor fired Walt Disney because he "lacked imagination and had no original ideas."

Winston Churchill failed the 6th grade and had to repeat it because he did not complete the tests that were required for promotion.

Babe Ruth struck out 1,300 times, a major league record.

A person may make mistakes, but is not a failure until he or she starts blaming someone else. We must believe in ourselves, and somewhere along the road of life we will meet someone who sees greatness in us and lets us know it.

January 4, 2007

In God We Trust-- Lincoln Speaks to America

By Hong Min Zou

My fellow countrymen, what has happened to our great nation since my death? My heart is heavy over what I see. What has happened to the presence of God, to the sanctity of life, the family, equality of man, the values that our fellow countrymen died for so gloriously on the field of battle? America, you have turned your back on God the Almighty, the Creator. The nation has replaced their dependence upon God and His holy principles with an independent spirit that portrays man as sufficient unto himself. Any nation that is not Godly is by nature ungodly and shall be punished. You have become a nation that does not obey the voice of the Lord. The nation has become like faithless Israel in the days of the prophet Jeremiah.

The last Congressional act I signed was to have the words "In God We Trust" inscribed on all of our national currency to remind our fellow countrymen of the blessing the merciful Father has showered upon this nation. More than 10,000 books have been written about me. I understand that I am the most quoted American in history and that I used more scriptural references in my speeches than any other U.S. President. Yet, I was but a humble instrument in the hands of our Heavenly Father, as we all are, trying to work out His great purposes. I have desired that all my works and acts be done according to His will. It is fitting and proper that you now heed my word.

Much debate and volumes of material have been written about my religious convictions. I considered myself a Godly man. I read the Bible and lived by the Ten Commandments. Although I did all those things, I did not have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ until November 19, 1863, after my Gettysburg Address. I once was asked, " Do you love Jesus?" by a minister from Illinois just a few short months before my death. I solemnly replied, "When I left Springfield, I asked the people to pray for me. I was not a Christian. When I buried my son, the severest trial of my life, I was not a Christian. But, when I went to Gettysburg, and saw the graves of thousands of our soldiers, I then and there consecrated my life to Christ. Yes, I do love Jesus."

I recall another conversation I had at the White house with a lady who was a member of the Christian Commission. I asked her to give me, in brief, her idea of what constitutes a true religious experience. The lady stated that, in her judgement, "it consisted of a conviction of one's own sinfulness and weakness, and a personal need of the Saviour for strength and support; a feeling of the need of divine help, and a seeking of the aid of the Holy Spirit for strength and guidance; that these were a satisfactory evidence of having been born again." I was silent and thoughtful. After a few moments, I said, very earnestly: "If what you have told me is really a correct view of this great subject, I think I can say with sincerity that I hope I am a Christian. I had lived until my boy, Willie, died without realizing fully these things. That blow overwhelmed me. It showed me my weakness as I had never felt it before, and if I can take what you have stated as a test, I think I can safely say that I know something of that change of which you speak; and I will further add, that it has been my intention for some time, at a suitable opportunity, to make a public religious profession."

Do you understand, America, that "In God We Trust" was so important to me as your Country's leader, I declared July 7, 1864 to be a National Day of Prayer. You see, "I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My wisdom and that of those all around me seemed insufficient for that day."I trusted the Lord to answer my prayers and those of my countrymen. He mercifully did! So, on October 20, 1864, I declared that the last Thursday in November be a National Day of Thanksgiving. "It is the duty of nations as well as of men to own their dependence upon the overruling power of God... and to recognize the sublime truth announced in the Holy Scriptures and proved by all history, that those nations only are blest whose God is the Lord."

I am reminded in 2 Chronicles 7:14 which says: "If My people, who are called by My name, will humble themselves and pray, and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and will heal their land."My fellow countrymen, the "judgements of the Lord are true and righteous." We should obey and not oppose God's will. Let us as a nation humble ourselves in the dust, and ask forgiveness for the sinful ways of this once great nation. Ask Jesus the Saviour for wisdom and repent, for we have nowhere else to go. Let us again place our trust in God.

December 20, 2006

Here's the poem you heard from Bryan Duncan on the morning show today.......

Here’s a little note to leave for your someone special, along with some marshmallows……


We’ve heard that you’ve been naughty
So listen, here’s the scoop.
We’re running short on coal this year,
So you get Snowman Poop!

From
Santa

December 19, 2006

Dear Children, It has come to my attention that many of you are upset that folks are taking My name out of the season. Maybe you've forgotten that I wasn't actually born during this time of the year and that it was some of your predecessors who decided to celebrate My birthday on what was actually a time of pagan festival. Although, I do appreciate being remembered anytime. How I personally feel about this celebration can probably be most easily understood by those of you who have been blessed with children of your own. I don't care what you call the day. If you want to celebrate My birth just, GET ALONG AND LOVE ONE ANOTHER.

Now, having said that let Me go on. If it bothers you that the town in which you live doesn't allow a scene depicting My birth, then just get rid of a couple of Santas and snowmen and put in a small Nativity scene on your own front lawn. If all My followers did that there wouldn't be any need for such a scene on the town square because there would be many of them all around town. Stop worrying about the fact that people are calling the tree a holiday tree, instead of a Christmas tree. It was I who made all trees. You can remember Me anytime you see any tree. Decorate a grape vine if you wish: I actually spoke of that one in a teaching, explaining who I am in relation to you and what each of our tasks were. If you have forgotten that one, look up John 15: 1 - 8.

If you want to give Me a present in remembrance of My birth here is my wish list. Choose something from it:

1. Instead of writing protest letters objecting to the way My birthday is being celebrated, write letters of love and hope to soldiers away from home. They are terribly afraid and lonely this time of year. I know, they tell Me all the time.

2. Visit someone in a nursing home. You don't have to know them personally. They just need to know that someone cares about them.

3. Instead of writing George complaining about the wording on the cards his staff sent out this year, why don't you write and tell him that you'll be praying for him and his family this year. Then follow up. It will be nice hearing from you again.

4. Instead of giving your children a lot of gifts you can't afford and they don't need, spend time with them. Tell them the Story of My birth, and why I came to live with you down here. Hold them in your arms and remind them that I love them.

5. Pick someone that has hurt you in the past and forgive him or her.

6. Did you know that someone in your town will attempt to take their own life this season because they feel so alone and hopeless? Since you don't know who that person is, try giving everyone you meet a warm smile it could make the difference.

7. Instead of nit picking about what the retailer in your town calls the holiday, be patient with the people who work there. Give them a warm smile and a kind word. Even if they aren't allowed to wish you a "Merry Christmas" that doesn't keep you from wishing them one. Then stop shopping there on Sunday. If the store didn't make so much money on that day they'd close and let their employees spend the day at home with their families.

8. If you really want to make a difference, support a missionary, especially one who takes My love and Good News to those who have never heard My name.

9. Here's a good one. There are individuals and whole families in your town who not only will have no "Christmas" tree, but neither will they have any presents to give or receive. If you don't know them, buy some food and a few gifts and give them to the Salvation Army or some other charity which believes in Me and they will make the delivery for you.

10. Finally, if you want to make a statement about your belief in and loyalty to Me, then behave like a Christian. Don't do things in secret that you wouldn't do in My presence Let people know by your actions that you are one of mine. Don't forget; I am God and can take care of Myself. Just love Me and do what I have told you to do. I'll take care of all the rest. Check out the list above and get to work; time is short. I'll help you, but the ball is now in your court.

And do have a most blessed Christmas with all those whom you love and remember me"
I LOVE YOU,
JESUS

December 13, 2006 - Story of Rudolph


On a December night in Chicago, a little girl climbed onto her father's lap and asked a question. It was a simple question, asked in children's curiosity, yet it had a heart-rending effect on Robert May. "Daddy," four-year old Barbara asked, "Why isn't my Mommy just like everybody else's mommy?" Bob May stole a glance across his shabby two room apartment. On a couch lay his young wife, Evelyn, racked with cancer. For two years she had been bedridden; for two years, all Bob's income and smaller savings had gone to pay for treatments and medicines.
The terrible ordeal already had shattered two adult lives. Now Bob suddenly realized the happiness of his growing daughter was also in jeopardy.

As he ran his fingers through Barbara's hair, he prayed for some satisfactory answer to her question. Bob May knew only too well what it meant to be "different." As a child he had been weak and delicate. With the innocent cruelty of children, his playmates had continually goaded the stunted, skinny lad to tears. Later at Dartmouth, from which he was graduated in 1926, Bob May was so small that he was always being mistaken for someone's little brother.
Nor was his adult life much happier. Unlike many of his classmates who floated from college into plush jobs, Bob became a lowly copy writer for Montgomery Ward, the big Chicago mail order house. Now at 33, Bob was deep in debt, depressed and sad.

Although Bob did not know it at the time, the answer he gave the tousled haired child on his lap was to bring him to fame and fortune. It was also to bring joy to countless thousands of children like his own Barbara. On that December night in the shabby Chicago apartment, Bob cradled his little girl's head against his shoulder and began to tell a story.

"Once upon a time there was a reindeer named Rudolph, the only reindeer in the world that had a big red nose. Naturally people called him Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." As Bob went on to tell about Rudolph, he tried desperately to communicate to Barbara the knowledge that, even though some creatures of God are strange and different, they often enjoy the miraculous power to make others happy. Rudolph, Bob explained, was terribly embarrassed by his unique nose. Other reindeer laughed at him; his mother and father and sister were mortified too.
Even Rudolph wallowed in self pity.

"Well," continued Bob, "one Christmas Eve, Santa Claus got his team of husky reindeer -Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, and Vixon ready for their yearly trip around the world. The entire reindeer community assembled to cheer these great heroes on their way. But a terrible fog engulfed the earth that evening, and Santa knew that the mist was so thick he wouldn't be able to find any chimney. Suddenly Rudolph appeared, his red nose glowing brighter than ever. Santa sensed at once that here was the answer to his perplexing problem. He led Rudolph to the front of the sleigh, fastened the harness and climbed in.

They were off! Rudolph guided Santa safely to every chimney that night. Rain and fog, snow and sleet; nothing bothered Rudolph, for his bright nose penetrated the mist like a beacon.
And so it was that Rudolph became the most famous and beloved of all the reindeer. The huge red nose he once hid in shame was now the envy of every buck and doe in the reindeer world. Santa Claus told everyone that Rudolph had saved the day and from that Christmas, Rudolph has been living serenely and happy."

Little Barbara laughed with glee when her father finished. Every night she begged him to repeat the tale until finally Bob could rattle it off in his sleep. Then, at Christmas time he decided to make the story into a poem like "The Night Before Christmas" and prepare it in bookish form illustrated with pictures, for Barbara's personal gift. Night after night, Bob worked on the verses after Barbara had gone to bed for he was determined his daughter should have a worthwhile gift, even though he could not afford to buy one...
Then as Bob was about to put the finishing touches on Rudolph, tragedy struck.

Evelyn May died. Bob, his hopes crushed, turned to Barbara as chief comfort. Yet, despite his grief, he sat at his desk in the quiet, now lonely apartment, and worked on "Rudolph" with tears in his eyes. Shortly after Barbara had cried with joy over his handmade gift on Christmas morning, Bob was asked to an employee's holiday party at Montgomery Wards. He didn't want to go, but his office associates insisted. When Bob finally agreed, he took with him the poem and read it to the crowd. First the noisy throng listened in laughter and gaiety. Then they became silent, and at the end, broke into spontaneous applause.

That was in 1938.

By Christmas of 1947, some 6 million copies of the booklet had been given away or sold, making Rudolph one of the most widely distributed books in the world. The demand for Rudolph sponsored products, increased so much in variety and number that educators and historians predicted Rudolph would come to occupy a permanent place in the Christmas legend.

December 11, 2006 - The White Envelope

It's just a small white envelope stuck among the branches of ourChristmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It haspeeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas -- oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it -- the overspending, the frantic running around at the last minute to get atie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma -- the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.

Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties, and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way. Our son Kevin,who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church. These youngsters,dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys intheir spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team waswrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford.

Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weightclass. And as each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have alot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them." Mike loved kids -- all kids -- and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball, and lacrosse.

That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition -- one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on. The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning, and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure.

The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning it was joined by three more.Each of our children, unbeknown to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us. May we all remember Christ, who is the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always. God Bless! -- and may you find a white envelope on your tree this year!

December 1, 2006


Forrest Gump's Entrance Exam-- Author Unknown

Forrest Gump dies and goes to Heaven, where he is met at the Pearly Gates by St. Peter himself. The gates are closed, however, and Forrest approaches the gatekeeper. St. Peter says "Well, Forrest, it's certainly good to see you. We've heard so many good things about you. I must inform you, though, the place is filling up fast, and we've been giving an entrance exam to everyone. The quiz is short, but you need to pass it before you can get into Heaven.

Forrest responds, "It shore is good to be here, St. Peter. I was looking forward to this. But, nobody ever told me about any entrance exam. Sure hope the test ain't too hard; Life was a big enough test as it was." St. Peter goes on... "I know, Forrest, but the test is only three questions and you can have the night to think about it. So, here it is:1. What days of the week begin with the letter T? 2. How many seconds are there in a year? ... and...3. What is God's first name?"Forrest goes away to think the questions over.

He returns the next day and goes up to St. Peter to try to answer all three questions. St. Peter waves him up and says, "Now that you've had a chance to think the questions over, tell me your answers."Forrest says, "Well, the first one, how many days of the week begin with the letter T? Shucks, that one's easy. That'd be Today and Tomorrow."The Saint's eyes open wide and he exclaims "Forrest! That's not what I was thinking... but, you do have a point though, and I guess I didn't specify, so I'll give you credit for that answer. How about the next one? How many seconds are in a year?"

"Now, that one's harder" says Forrest, "but I thought and thought about that, and I guess the only answer can be twelve."Astounded, St. Peter says "Twelve! Twelve!? Forrest, how in Heaven's name could you come up with twelve seconds in a year?"Forest says, "Aw, come on, St. Peter, there's gotta be twelve. January second, and February second, and March second...""Hold it" interrupts St. Peter. "I see where you're going, and I guess I see your point, but that wasn't what I had in mind. But, I'll give you credit for that one, too.

Now, let's go on with the final question. Can you tell me God's first name?"Forrest quickly replied, "Andy."Again, St. Peter asked, "How in the world did you come up with Andy?" Forrest smiled and said, "You know, St. Peter, from that song we all sing in church...

"Andy walks with me, Andy talks with me."

November 30, 2006


God Created The Teacher-- Author Unknown

On the 6th day, God created men and women. On the 7th day, he rested. Not so much to recuperate, but rather to prepare himself for the work he was going to do on the next day. For it was on that day - the 8th day - that God created the FIRST TEACHER.

This TEACHER, though taken from among men and women, had several significant modifications. In general, God made the TEACHER more durable than other men and women. The TEACHER was made to arise at a very early hour and to go to bed no earlier than 11:30 PM with no rest in between.The TEACHER had to be able to withstand being locked up in an air-tight classroom for six hours with thirty-five "monsters" on a rainy Monday. And the TEACHER had to be fit to correct 103 papers over Easter vacation.

Yes, God made the TEACHER tough... but gentle, too. The TEACHER was equipped with soft hands to wipe away the tears of the neglected and lonely student... those of the sixteen-year old girl who was not asked to the prom.And into the TEACHER God poured a generous amount of patience. Patience when a student asks to repeat the directions the TEACHER has just repeated for someone else. Patience when the kids forget their lunch money for the fourth day in a row. Patience when one-third of the class fails the test. Patience when the text books haven't arrived yet, and the semester starts tomorrow.

And God gave the TEACHER a heart slightly bigger than the average human heart. For the Teacher's heart had to be big enough to love the kid who screams, "I hate this class - it's boring!" and to love the kid who runs out of the classroom at the end of the period without so much as a "goodbye," let alone a "thank you."And lastly, God gave the TEACHER an abundant supply of HOPE. For God knew that the TEACHER would always be hoping. Hoping that the kids would someday learn how to spell... hoping not to have lunchroom duty... hoping that Friday would come... hoping for a free day... hoping for deliverance.

When God finished creating the TEACHER, he stepped back and admired the work of His hands. And God saw that the TEACHER was good. Very Good! And God smiled, for when he looked at the TEACHER, he saw into the future.He knew that the future is in the hands of the TEACHERS.

And because God loves TEACHERS so much... on the 9th day God created... SNOW DAYS!

November 27, 2006

True Meaning of Christmas

Just a week before Christmas I had a visitor. This is how it happened. I just finished the household chores for the night and was preparing to go to bed, when I heard a noise in the front of the house. I opened the door to the front room and to my surprise, Santa himself stepped out next to the fireplace.

"What are you doing?" I started to ask. The words choked up in my throat and I saw he had tears in his eyes. His usual jolly manner was gone. Gone was the eager, boisterous soul we all know. He then answered me with a simple statement . . ."TEACH THE CHILDREN!"

I was puzzled. What did he mean? He anticipated my question and with one quick movement brought forth a miniature toy bag from behind the tree. As I stood bewildered, Santa said, "Teach the children!Teach them the old meaning of Christmas. The meaning that now-a-days Christmas has forgotten. "Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a FIR TREE and placed it before the mantle. "Teach the children that the pure green color of the stately fir tree remains green all year round, depicting the everlasting hope of mankind, all the needles point heavenward, making it a symbol of man's thoughts turning toward heaven."

He again reached into his bag and pulled out a brilliant STAR. "Teach the children that the star was the heavenly sign of promises long ago. God promised a Savior for the world, and the star was the sign of fulfillment of His promise." He then reached into his bag and pulled out a CANDLE. "Teach the children that the candle symbolizes that Christ is the light of the world, and when we see this great light we are reminded of He who displaces the darkness."

Once again he reached into his bag and removed a WREATH and placed it on the tree. "Teach the children that the wreath symbolizes the real nature of love. Real love never ceases. Love is one continuous round of affection. "He then pulled from his bag an ORNAMENT of himself. "Teach the children that I, Santa Claus, symbolize the generosity and good will we feel during the month of December."

He then brought out a HOLLY LEAF. "Teach the children that the holly plant represents immortality. It represents the crown of thorns worn by our Savior. The red holly berries represent the blood shed by Him. Next he pulled from his bag a GIFT and said, "Teach the children that God so loved the world that he gave his begotten son." Thanks be to God for his unspeakable gift.

Santa then reached in his bag and pulled out a CANDY CANE and hung it on the tree. "Teach the children that the candy cane represents the shepherds' crook. The crook on the staff helps to bring back strayed sheep to the flock. The candy cane is the symbol that we are our brother's keeper." He reached in again and pulled out an ANGEL. "Teach the children that it was the angels that heralded in the glorious news of the Savior's birth. The angels sang Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace and good will toward men."

Suddenly I heard a soft twinkling sound, and from his bag he pulled out a BELL,. "Teach the children that as the lost sheep are found by the sound of the bell, it should ring mankind to the fold. The bell symbolizes guidance and return.

Santa looked back and was pleased. He looked back at me and I saw that the twinkle was back in his eyes. He said, "Remember, teach the children the true meaning of Christmas and do not put me in the center, for I am but a humble servant of the One that is, and I bow down to worship him, our LORD, our GOD."

November 29, 2006


LAUS DEO... A History Lesson-- Author Unknown

In Washington DC, there can never be a building of greater height than the Washington Monument... this is a LAW.On the aluminum cap, atop the Washington Monument in Washington DC, are two words: Laus Deo. No one can see these words. In fact, most visitors to the monument are totally unaware they are even there and for that matter, probably couldn't care less.These words have been there for many years; they are 555 feet, 5.125 inches high, perched atop the monument, facing skyward to the Father of our nation, overlooking the 69 square miles which comprise the District of Columbia, capital of the United States of America.

Laus Deo! Two seemingly insignificant, un-noticed words. Out of sight and, one might think, out of mind, but very meaningfully placed at the highest point over what is the most powerful city in the most successful nation in the world.So, what do those two words, in Latin, composed of just four syllables and only seven letters, possibly mean? Very simply, they say... "Praise be to God!" Though construction of this giant obelisk began in 1848, when James Polk was President of the United States, it was not until 1888 that the monument was inaugurated and opened to the public. It took twenty five years to finally cap the memorial with a tribute to the Father of our nation, "Laus Deo... Praise be to God!"

From atop this magnificent granite and marble structure, visitors may take in the beautiful panoramic view of the city with it's division into four major segments. From that vantage point, one can also easily see the original plan of the designer, Pierre Charles l'Enfant... a perfect cross imposed upon the landscape, with the White House to the north. The Jefferson Memorial is to the south, the Capitol to the east and the Lincoln Memorial to the west. A cross you ask? Why a cross? What about separation of church and state? Yes, a cross; separation of church and state was not, is not, in the Constitution. So, read on .

How interesting and, no doubt, intended to carry a profound meaning for those who bother to notice. Praise be to God! Within the monument itself are 898 steps and 50 landings. As one climbs the steps and pauses at the landings the memorial stones share a message! On the 12th Landing is a prayer offered by the City of Baltimore; on the 20th is a memorial presented by some Chinese Christians; on the 24th a presentation made by Sunday School children from New York and Philadelphia quoting Proverbs 10:7, Luke 18:16 and Proverbs 22:6. Praise be to God! When the cornerstone of the Washington Monument was laid on July 4th, 1848, deposited within it were many items including the Holy Bible presented by the Bible Society. Praise be to God! Such was the discipline, the moral direction, and the spiritual mood given by the founder and first President of our unique democracy ."One Nation, Under God."

Washington's prayer, have you ever read it? If not, do so now..."Almighty God; We make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection; that Thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government; and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United states at large." And finally that Thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without a humble imitation of whose example in these things we can never hope to be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech Thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

Laus Deo! When one stops to observe the inscriptions found in public places all over our nation's capitol, he or she will easily find the signature of God, as it is unmistakably inscribed everywhere you look. You may forget the width and height of "Laus Deo," it's location, or the architects... but no one who reads this will be able to forget it's meaning, or these words: "Unless the Lord builds the house its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain." -- Psalm 127:1

We are a nation under God!!! Laus Deo!

November 28, 2006


What's Prettier Than Freckles?-- Author Unknown

An elderly woman and her little grandson, whose face was sprinkled with bright freckles, spent the day at the zoo. Lots of children were waiting in line to get their cheeks painted by a local artist who was decorating them with tiger paws."You've got so many freckles, there's no place to paint!" a girl in the line said to the little fellow.

Embarrassed, the little boy dropped his head. His grandmother knelt down next to him. "I love your freckles. When I was a little girl I always wanted freckles," she said, while tracing her finger across the child's cheek. "Freckles are beautiful."

The boy looked up, "Really?""Of course," said the grandmother. "Why just name me one thing that's prettier than freckles."The little boy thought for a moment, peered intensely into his grandma's face, and softly whispered, "Wrinkles."

November 16, 2006


Once there were three trees on a hill in the woods. They were discussing their hopes and dreams when the first tree said, "Someday I hope to be a treasure chest. I could be filled with gold, silver and precious gems. I could be decorated with intricate carving and everyone would see the beauty."

Then the second tree said, "Someday I will be a mighty ship. I will take kings and queens across the waters and sail to the corners of the world. Everyone will feel safe in me because of the strength of my hull."

Finally the third tree said, "I want to grow to be the tallest and straightest tree in the forest. People will see me on top of the hill and look up to my branches, and think of the heavens and God and how close to them I am reaching. I will be the greatest tree of all time and people will always remember me."

After a few years of praying that their dreams would come true, a group of woodsmen came upon the trees. When one came to the first tree he said, "This looks like a strong tree, I think I should be able to sell the wood to a carpenter" ... and he began cutting it down. The tree was happy, because he knew that the carpenter would make him into a treasure chest.
At the second tree a woodsman said, "This looks like a strong tree, I should be able to sell it to the shipyard." The second tree was happy because he knew he was on his way to becoming a mighty ship.
When the woodsmen came upon the third tree, the tree was frightened because he knew that if they cut him down his dreams would not come true. One of the woodsmen said, "I don't need anything special from my tree so I'll take this one", and he cut it down.

When the first tree arrived at the carpenters, he was made into a feed box for animals. He was then placed in a barn and filled with hay. This was not at all what he had prayed for. The second tree was cut and made into a small fishing boat. His dreams of being a mighty ship and carrying kings had come to an end. The third tree was cut into large pieces and left alone in the dark. The years went by, and the trees forgot about their dreams.

Then one day, a man and woman came to the barn. She gave birth and they placed the baby in the hay in the feed box that was made from the first tree. The man wished that he could have made a crib for the baby, but this manger would have to do. The tree could feel the importance of this event and knew that it had held the greatest treasure of all time.

Years later, a group of men got in the fishing boat made from the second tree. One of them was tired and went to sleep. While they were out on the water, a great storm arose and the tree didn't think it was strong enough to keep the men safe. The men woke the sleeping man, and he stood and said "Peace" and the storm stopped. At this time, the tree knew that it had carried the King of Kings in its boat.

Finally, someone came and got the third tree. It was carried through the streets as the people mocked the man who was carrying it. When they came to a stop, the man was nailed to the tree and raised in the air to die at the top of a hill. When Sunday came, the tree came to realize that it was strong enough to stand at the top of the hill and be as close to God as was possible, because Jesus had been crucified on it.

The moral of this story is that when things don't seem to be going your way, always know that God has a plan for you. If you place your trust in Him, He will give you great gifts. Each of the trees got what they wanted, just not in the way they had imagined. We don't always know what God's plans are for us. We just know that His ways are not our ways, but His ways are always best.

November 15, 2006


THE 4 WIVES

There was a rich merchant who had 4 wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to delicacies. He took great care of her and gave her nothing but the best.

He also loved the 3rd wife very much. He's very proud of her and always wanted to show off her to his friends. However, the merchant is always in great fear that she might run away with some other men.

He too, loved his 2nd wife. She is a very considerate person, always patient and in fact is the merchant's confidante. Whenever the merchant faced some problems, he always turned to his 2nd wife and she would always help him out and tide him through difficult times.

Now, the merchant's 1st wife is a very loyal partner and has made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and business as well as taking care of the household. However, the merchant did not love the first wife and although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her.

One day, the merchant fell ill. Before long, he knew that he was going to die soon. He thought of his luxurious life and told himself, "Now I have 4 wives with me. But when I die, I'll be alone. How lonely I'll be!" Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I loved you most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No way!" replied the 4th wife and she walked away without another word.
The answer cut like a sharp knife right into the merchant's heart.

The sad merchant then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you so much for all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No!" replied the 3rd wife. "Life is so good over here! I'm going to remarry when you die!" The merchant's heart sank and turned cold.

He then asked the 2nd wife, "I always turned to you for help and you've always helped me out. Now I need your help again. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!" replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only send you to your grave." The answer came like a bolt of thunder and the merchant was devastated.

Then a voice called out : "I'll leave with you. I'll follow you no matter where you go." The merchant looked up and there was his first wife. She was so skinny, almost like she suffered from malnutrition. Greatly grieved, the merchant said, "I should have taken much better care of you while I could have !"

Actually, we all have 4 wives in our lives

a. The 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it'll leave us when we die.

b. Our 3rd wife ? Our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, they all go to others.

c. The 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how close they had been there for us when we're alive, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.

d. The 1st wife is in fact our soul, often neglected in our pursuit of material, wealth and sensual pleasure.

Guess what? It is actually the only thing that follows us wherever we go. Perhaps it's a good idea to cultivate and strengthen it now rather than to wait until we're on our deathbed to lament

November 14, 2006

Did you know that an eagle knows when a storm is approaching long before it breaks?
The eagle will fly to some high spot and wait for the winds to come. When the storm hits, it sets its wings so that the wind will pick it up and lift it above the storm. While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring above it.

The eagle does not escape the storm. It simply uses the storm to lift it higher. It rises on the winds that bring the storm.

When the storms of life come upon us - and all of us will experience them - we can rise above them by setting our minds and our belief toward God. The storms do not have to overcome us. We can allow God's power to lift us above them.

God enables us to ride the winds of the storm that bring sickness, tragedy, failure and disappointment in our lives. We can soar above the storm.

Remember, it is not the burdens of life that weigh us down, it is how we handle them.

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box.

"There are 5 things you need to know," he told the pencil, "Before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be."

"One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone's hand."

"Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you'll need it to become a better pencil."

"Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make."

"Four: The most important part of you will always be what's inside."

"And Five: On every surface you are used on, you must leave your mark. No matter what the condition, you must continue to write."

The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.


Now replacing the place of the pencil with you. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.

One: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in God's hand. And allow other human beings to access you for the many gifts you possess.

Two: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by going through various problems in life, but you'll need it to become a stronger person.

Three: You will be able to correct any mistakes you might make.

Four: The most important part of you will always be what's on the inside.

And Five: On every surface you walk through, you must leave your mark. No matter what the situation, you must continue to do your duties.



Allow this parable on the pencil to encourage you to know that you are a special person and only you can fulfill the purpose to which you were born to accomplish.

Never allow yourself to get discouraged and think that your life is insignificant and cannot make a change.

November 9, 2006

DON'T WE ALL


I was parked in front of the mall wiping off my car. I had just come
from the car wash and was waiting for my wife to get out of work.
Coming my way from across the parking lot was what society would
consider a bum.
From the looks of him, he had no car, no home, no clean clothes, and no
money. There are times when you feel generous but there are other times
that you just don't want to be bothered. This was one of those "don't
want to be bothered times."
"I hope he doesn't ask me for any money," I thought.
He didn't.
He came and sat on the curb in front of the bus stop but he didn't look
like he could have enough money to even ride the bus.
After a few minutes he spoke.
"That's a very pretty car," he said.
He was ragged but he had an air of dignity around him. His scraggly
blond beard keep more than his face warm.
I said, "thanks," and continued wiping off my car.


He sat there quietly as I worked. The expected plea for money never
came.
As the silence between us widened something inside said, "ask him if
he needs any help." I was sure that he would say "yes" but I held true
to the inner voice.
"Do you need any help?" I asked.
He answered in three simple but profound words that I shall never forget.
We often look for wisdom in great men and women. We expect it from
those of higher learning and accomplishments.

I expected nothing but an
outstretched grimy hand. He spoke the three words that shook me.
"Don't we all?" he said.

I was feeling high and mighty, successful and important, above a bum
in the street, until those three words hit me like a twelve gauge
shotgun.
Don't we all?
I needed help. Maybe not for bus fare or a place to sleep, but I
needed help. I reached in my wallet and gave him not only enough for bus
fare, but enough to get a warm meal and shelter for the day. Those
three little words still ring true. No matter how much you have, no matter
how much you have accomplished, you need help too. No matter how little you
have, no matter how loaded you are with problems, even without money or
a place to sleep, you can give help.

Even if it's just a compliment, you can give that.
You never know when you may see someone that appears to have it all.
They are waiting on you to give them what they don't have. A different
perspective on life, a glimpse at something beautiful, a respite from
daily chaos, that only you through a torn world can see.
Maybe the man was just a homeless stranger wandering the streets. Maybe
he was more than that.

Maybe he was sent by a power that is great and
wise, to minister to a soul too comfortable in themselves.

Maybe God looked down, called an Angel, dressed him like a bum, then said, "go minister to that man cleaning the car, that man needs help."
Don't we all?

November 8, 2006

Before I Was A Mom
Author Unknown


Before I was a mom I made and ate hot meals. I had unstained clothing. I had quiet conversations on the phone.

Before I was a Mom I slept as late as I wanted and never worried about how late I got into bed. I brushed my hair and my teeth everyday.

Before I was Mom I cleaned my house each day. I never tripped over toys or forgot words to lullabies.

Before I was a Mom I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous. I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom I had never been puked on, pooped on, spit on, chewed on, peed on, or pinched by tiny fingers.

Before I was a Mom I had complete control of my body and my mind. I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom I never held down a screaming child so that doctors could do tests or give shots. I never looked into teary eyes and cried. I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin. I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put it down. I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt. I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much. I never knew that I could love someone so much. I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body. I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby. I didn't know that bond between a Mother and her child. I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important.

Before I was a Mom I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure everything was ok. I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the wonder and fulfillment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.

I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much before I was a Mom.

November 7, 2006

Connect the Dots

As children we all played with those "connect the dots" puzzles. We would trace along the numbers from 1 to 2 to 3 ...until suddenly a picture appeared. It always amazed me that when it was just a page of hapless numbers, I was unable to see what it was meant to be and even as I traced along through the numbers, the meaning of the picture often remained a mystery until the end. The odd thing is, once the picture appeared, it was easy to see the outline and I would wonder why I hadn't been able to guess it earlier.

Life is a lot like a "connect the dots" puzzle. The direction of our life takes many turns, changing jobs leading to new relationships, lessons learned from bad choices guiding us towards inward reflection, one casual decision moves us toward an unsuspecting detour, while our purpose in life remains unclear to us. And as we trace along more and more "dots" in our life, what appeared as random events, fall together with profound meaning. We begin to glimpse our direction and what once was a puzzle to us suddenly becomes clear.

Maybe it is part of a bigger plan, maybe it is hindsight, but what was once the big mistake we thought we'd regret forever becomes the lesson that taught us compassion, the cherished friendships carefully nurtured over the years holds us close when crisis strikes, and the unsuspecting detour leads us safely toward home.

COUNT YOUR SATURDAYS
Author Unknown





The older I get, the more I enjoy Saturday mornings. Perhaps it's the

quiet solitude that comes with being the first to rise, or maybe it's

the unbounded joy of not having to be at work. Either way, the first

few hours of a Saturday morning are most enjoyable.



A few weeks ago, I was shuffling toward the garage with a steaming cup

of coffee in one hand and the morning paper in the other. What began as a

typical Saturday morning turned into one of those lessons that life

seems to hand you from time to time. Let me tell you about it:



I turned the dial up into the phone portion of the band on my ham

Radio in order to listen to a Saturday morning swap net. Along the way, I came

across an older sounding chap, with a tremendous signal and a golden voice.

You know the kind; he sounded like he should be in the broadcasting

business. He was telling whom-ever he was talking with something about "a thousand

marbles." I was intrigued and stopped to listen to what he had to say.



"Well, Tom, it sure sounds like you're busy with your job. I'm sure

They pay you well but it's a shame you have to be away from home and your

family so much. Hard to believe a young fellow should have to work sixty or

seventy hours a week to make ends meet. It's too bad you missed your

daughter's "dance recital" he continued. "Let me tell you something that has

helped me keep my own priorities." And that's when he began to explain his theory of

a "thousand marbles."



"You see, I sat down one day and did a little arithmetic. The average

person lives about seventy-five years. I know, some live more and some

live less, but on average, folks live about seventy-five years. "Now then, I

multiplied 75 times 52 and I came up with 3900, which is the number of Saturdays

that the averageperson has in their entire lifetime. Now, stick with me, Tom, I'm

getting to the important part.



It took me until I was fifty-five years old to think about all this in

any detail", he went on, "and by that time I had lived through overtwenty-eight

hundred Saturdays." "I got to thinking that if I lived to be seventy-five,

I only had about a thousand of them left to enjoy. So I went to a toy store and

bought every single marble they had. I ended up having to visit three toy stores to

round up 1000 marbles. I took them home and put them inside a large, clear plastic

container right here in the shack next to my gear."



"Every Saturday since then, I have taken one marble out and thrown it

away. I found that by watching the marbles diminish, I focused more on the really

important things in life. There is nothing like watching your time here on this

earth run out to help get your priorities straight." "Now let me tell you one last

thing before I sign-off with you and take my lovely wife out for breakfast. This

morning, I took the very last marble out of the container. I figure that if I make

it until next Saturday then I have been given a little extra time. And the one thing

we can all use is a little more time."



"It was nice to meet you Tom, I hope you spend more time with your family, and

I hope to meet you again here on the band. This is a 75 Year old Man, K9NZQ, clear

and going QRT, good morning!" You could have heard a pin drop on the band when this

fellow signed off. I guess he gave us all a lot to think about I had planned to work

on the antenna that morning, and then I was going to meet up with a few hams to work

on the next club newsletter.. Instead, I went upstairs and woke my wife up with a

kiss. "C'mon honey, I'm taking you and the kids to breakfast." "What brought this

on?" she asked with a smile. "Oh, nothing special, it's just been a long time since

we spent a Saturday together with the kids. And hey , can we stop at a toy store

while we're out?



I need to buy some marbles...

October 26, 2006

Jack tossed the papers on my desk -- his eyebrows knit into a straight line as he glared at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

He jabbed a finger at the proposal. "Next time you want to change anything, ask me first," he said, turning on his heels and leaving me stewing in anger.

How dare he treat me like that, I thought. I had changed one long sentence, and corrected grammar -- something I thought I was paid to do.

It's not that I hadn't been warned. The other women, who had served in my place before me, called him names I couldn't repeat. One co-worker took me aside the first day. "He's personally responsible for two different secretaries leaving the firm," she whispered.

As the weeks went by, I grew to despise Jack. It was against everything I believed in -- turn the other cheek and love your enemies. But Jack quickly slapped a verbal insult on any cheek turned his way. I prayed about it, but to be honest, I wanted to put him in his place, not love him.

One day, another of his episodes left me in tears. I stormed into his office, prepared to lose my job if needed, but not before I let the man know how I felt. I opened the door and Jack glanced up.

"What?" he said abruptly.

Suddenly I knew what I had to do. After all, he deserved it.

I sat across from him. "Jack, the way you've been treating me is wrong. I've never had anyone speak to me that way. As a professional, it's wrong, and it's wrong for me to allow it to continue," I said.

Jack snickered nervously and leaned back in his chair. I closed my eyes briefly. God help me, I prayed.

"I want to make you a promise. I will be a friend," I said. "I will treat you as you deserve to be treated, with respect and kindness. You deserve that," I said. "Everybody does." I slipped out of the chair and closed the door behind me.

Jack avoided me the rest of the week. Proposals, specs, and letters appeared on my desk while I was at lunch, and the corrected versions were not seen again. I brought cookies to the office one day and left a batch on Jack's desk. Another day I left a note. "Hope your day is going great," it read.

Over the next few weeks, Jack reappeared. He was reserved, but there were no other episodes. Co-workers cornered me in the break room.

"Guess you got to Jack," they said. "You must have told him off good." I shook my head.

"Jack and I are becoming friends," I said in faith. I refused to talk about him. Every time I saw Jack in the hall, I smiled at him.

After all, that's what friends do.

One year after our "talk", I discovered I had breast cancer. I was 32, the mother of three beautiful young children, and scared. The cancer had metastasized to my lymph nodes and the statistics were not great for long-term survival. After surgery, I visited with friends and loved ones who tried to find the right words to say. No one knew what to say. Many said the wrong things . Others wept, and I tried to encourage them. I clung to hope.

The last day of my hospital stay, the door darkened and Jack stood awkwardly on the threshold. I waved him in with a smile and he walked over to my bed and, without a word, placed a bundle beside me. Inside lay several bulbs.

"Tulips," he said.

I smiled, not understanding.

He cleared his throat. "If you plant them when you get home, they'll come up next spring." He shuffled his feet. "I just wanted you to know that I think you'll be there to see them when they come up."

Tears clouded my eyes and I reached out my hand.

"Thank you," I whispered.

Jack grasped my hand and gruffly replied, "You're welcome. You can't see it now, but next spring you'll see the colors I picked out for you." He turned and left without a word.

I have seen those red and white striped tulips push through the soil every spring for over ten years now. In fact, this September the doctor will declare me cured. I've seen my children graduate from high school and enter college.

In a moment when I prayed for just the right word, a man with very few words said all the right things.

After all, that's what friends do.

October 24, 2006

Two Days We Should Not Worry
by: Author Unknown


There are two days in every week about which we should not worry,
two days which should be kept free from fear and apprehension.

One of these days is Yesterday with all its mistakes and cares,
its faults and blunders, its aches and pains.

Yesterday has passed forever beyond our control.
All the money in the world cannot bring back Yesterday.

We cannot undo a single act we performed;
we cannot erase a single word we said.
Yesterday is gone forever.

The other day we should not worry about is Tomorrow
with all its possible adversities, its burdens,
its large promise and its poor performance;
Tomorrow is also beyond our immediate control.

Tomorrow's sun will rise,
either in splendor or behind a mask of clouds, but it will rise.
Until it does, we have no stake in Tomorrow,
for it is yet to be born.

This leaves only one day, Today.
Any person can fight the battle of just one day.
It is when you and I add the burdens of those two awful eternities
Yesterday and Tomorrow that we break down.

It is not the experience of Today that drives a person mad,
it is the remorse or bitterness of something which happened Yesterday and the dread of what Tomorrow may bring.

Let us, therefore, Live but one day at a time.

October 23, 2006

My family and I recently attended a Sweet 15. In the Hispanic culture, it is more traditionally know as a Quinceanera. I wanted to share with you some special moments that I witnessed that day.

I saw a moment during the church service, a mother's true love for her daughter. Mom stood up and shared some special thoughts of what she described as her strong-willed daughter. As she began to speak, her voice began to shake. She spoke with pure conviction of the bond they shared with one another. Everyone in the church began to feel the true love they had for one another. If mom had only kept talking, I believe all the parents, especially the moms in attendance would have been in tears.

There was another moment, one that made me believe of a daddy's love for his little girl. This took place at the reception. You need to first paint a picture in your mind of how special it must be for a father to dance his last dance, if you will, with his little girl.

The young girl looked especially beautiful that day, almost magical in her long white dress. Her cheeks looked like roses and her blue eyes like flowers. The curls in her hair bounced as she walked in the room. You could see her sparkle as she walked along to the middle of the dance floor. She looked like Cinderella and daddy like Prince Charmin standing there holding her hand.

"The Dance" by Garth Brooks began to play and the magic unfolded as they held each other and began to dance. As the dad held his young daughter, they looked like they were dancing on air. Her dress swayed from side to side as he held her tight. How special this must have felt to be in her daddy's arms that night.

The song finally came to an end and it was time for daddy to let go…but he couldn't. He stood there big and strong, as his body began to shake, and then broke down as he began to cry. It was a very special moment. Here was this giant of a man, towering over his young child, but yet with the innocence of a baby he fought hard to hold back his tears. He held his little girl by her arms as he leaned over and gave her a big kiss on her forehead. He embraced her as he wiped the tears streaming down his face.

As I stood there watching all this happen, I felt a big lump in my throat and I quickly began to share his pain. It made me sad but yet, at the same time, it made me happy. This is what it was all about. Daddy had always been there for his little girl.

As Garth Brooks sang his last note, I could feel dad "looking back on the times he shared" just like the song was saying. Daddy kissed her again and then his little girl turned and walked away.

Hug you children everyday and tell them you love them. Time stands still for no one. One day you'll be looking back and your memories will seem nothing more than a dream.

October 19, 2006

Sitting on Your Talent


There was a man played piano in a bar. He was a good piano player. People came out just to hear him play. But one night, a patron told him he didn't want to hear him just play anymore. He wanted him to sing a song.

The man said, "I don't sing."

But the customer was persistent. He told the bartender, "I'm tired of listening to the piano. I want that guy to sing!"

The bartender shouted across the room, "Hey buddy! If you want to get paid, sing a song. The patrons are asking you to sing!"

So he did. He sang a song. A piano player who had never sung in public did so for the very first time. And nobody had ever heard the song Mona, Mona Lisa sung the way it was sung that night by Nat King Cole!

He had talent he was sitting on! He may have lived the rest of his life as a no-name piano player in a no-name bar, but because he had to sing, he went on to become one of the best-known entertainers in America.

You, too, have skills and abilities. You may not feel as if your "talent" is particularly great, but it may be better than you think! And with persistence, most skills can be improved. Besides, you may as well have no ability at all if you sit on whatever talent you possess! The better question is not "What ability do I have that is useful?" It is rather "How will I use whatever ability I have?"

October 17, 2006

My dad comes in my office this morning filled with frustration over the problems of the world, the lack of compassion, the hunger, the death, the cruelty, the government. I tried my best to use good Christian reasoning... that this life is just a drop in the bucket, that eternity is what its all about. Well he got frustrated and said that from that perspective this world is nothing but an incubator, and if that's all it is that cheapens this life too much.

At first I got frustrated, but after I started thinking about it, I love the analogy, and not just because my wife is pregnant.

an incubator, something that warms the baby chicks until they are ready to emerge to life.

an incubator. a womb.

a womb is dark…it's cramped.
in a womb you depend on an umbilical cord for nourishment, and you can't control how much or what you get
your body is very fragile and has extreme limitations
you don't understand what's going on
you think you are completely alone
you can hear, but don't know what is being said
all you know is this strange confined world you live in

you don't know why the world keeps rolling over in the middle of the night and spinning you over,
why you keep getting poked, but for the most part you are comfortable and happy with your existence.

but then your short time in the incubator comes to a horrific end

birth is as a traumatic and painful experience as it gets for both mother and child.
the pain, the crying, the goo, the screaming
you are squeezed out of everything you knew and ripped from what gave you life.
your nourishment is cut off.

but then...
then what comes next is beyond your wildest imagination!

you find out you weren't alone
you see the light
you understand the voices
you are brought to life!

and through all this the dad looks on proudly.
you see he picked the mom... the deliverer, if you will
and along with that mom he made you.

so this life is an incubator
where we develop and grow...
....and get ready for life


born again. huh, how about that!

October 12, 2006

A Story of Two Seas
by: S. Wasserman, Jewish Magazine


Visited Israel? If you did, then you know that Israel has two lakes. The one up in the North is the Kinneret, also known as the sea of Galilee, because it is up in the area called the Galilee. From this lake comes most of the water in the tiny state. The ancient city of Tiberias, located on its shores, is today a flourishing city. Here the delicious St. Peter's fish is caught by the local fishermen and prized as a delicacy.

From the Kinneret, the water is purified and pumped into large pipelines that bring the life-giving water to the towns and cities all over the country. From the Kinneret, the Jordan river winds it's way down to the Dead Sea. It is much smaller now than in the times of the Bible, but still enough to give life and green to the plants all along it's path.

The second of Israel's lakes is the Dead Sea. The dead sea is an area of desolation. Even though the sweet waters of the Jordan flow into it, yet the salty mineral water is too heavy to be diluted. No plants grow around the banks of the dead sea, and no fish or plant life exist in the heavily salty waters. The salt concentrate is not like that of the average oceans of the world. It is so great that when a bather walks into the water, at a point approximately at his chest, the dense water lifts him up and he will float. Indeed no one is able to swim in the water. The salt and mineral content is so great that it burns the eyes and any open wound. After being in the water, a bather must wash to cleanse himself from the salt and mineral residue.

What a contrast! Compare the life-giving water of the Kinneret in the North to the deathly parched area around the Dead Sea.

Yet we are told that this is similar to two basic types of people: There is the giver, the person who gives generously whether of his time or his money. And there is the taker, the person who only takes, and any giving on his part is only in his own self interest, to promote more taking. The giver, gives, and life grows around him. The taker only takes and death is around him, nothing sprouts.

Yes, there are contributory rivers that flow into the Kinneret, but their waters are not kept there, but distributed to other needy sources. The giver is the sustainer of life.

The Dead Sea is located in the lowest part of Israel and one of the lowest parts of the world. The Dead Sea keeps all of it's water to itself. Similarly, the taker, only takes and keeps it only for himself. No one else benefits from him. Nothing is lower that this.

Even from the geography of the Holy Land of Israel, we learn deep lessons on how to conduct our lives. Let's be a giver. Let's concern ourselves with the other person. Remember, even smiling at the next person is an act of giving. Let's go beyond our needs and see what we can do to help the next person.

October 11, 2006

I have been humbled and even a bit shamed by the amazing grace of the Amish victims in Pennsylvania. The actions of the Amish faithful this weekend again caused me to stop and examine my own commitment to Christ. Here is an excerpt from a column written by Brian Dickerson in the Detroit Free Press.

"Charles Roberts IV, who killed himself after shooting 10 helpless schoolgirls, wasn't Amish himself. But his milk delivery route included the farms of many Amish families, including that of 13-year-old Marian Fisher, one of those killed in Roberts' rampage. So when the Fisher family made plans for Marian's funeral, they naturally invited her killer's widow and children. It wasn't an impulsive invitation, issued in a moment of vengeful anger -- Come see what that monster did! -- but a reflexive recognition that Roberts' survivors, too, were part of a community in need of healing. Two days later, when the shooter's body was laid to rest, the mourners included dozens of Amish."

I know some dismiss the Amish response as weakness. I think you could not be more wrong. Their actions reflect a strength that is incomprehensible. It takes no strength to hate. It takes incredible strength to forgive. The Amish have made a choice. They made a choice to totally commit to Christ and to one another. They made a choice to not let hate and bitterness consume them. They made a choice to reach out and show a doubting world what the love of Jesus looks like. I am ashamed when I examine my life by comparison. No more jokes about the Amish from me. The Amish may feel free to make jokes about me. I have a lot to learn about what it really means to follow Jesus.

My final question for you to "Ponder" is for self-examination.

Jesus, am I really willing and ready to follow You?

October 10, 2006


What Are You Doing God?



When I was little, my mother used to sew a great deal. I would sit at her knee and look up from the floor and ask what she was doing. She informed me that she was embroidering. As from the underside I watched her work within the boundaries of the little round hoop that she held in her hand. I complained to her that it sure looked messy from where I sat.

She would smile at me, look down and gently say, "Son, you go about your playing for a while, and when I am finished with my embroidering, I will put you on my knee and let you see it from my side.

I would wonder why she was using some dark thread along with the bright ones and why they seemed so jumbled from my view. A few minutes would pass and then I would hear Mother's voice say, "Son, come and sit on my knee."

Then Mother would say to me, "My son, from underneath it did look messy and jumbled, but you did not realize that there was a plan on the top. It was a design. I was only following it. Now look at it from my side and you will see what I was doing."

Many times through the years I have looked up to heaven and said, "Father, what are You doing?" He has answered, "I am embroidering your life."

I say, "But it looks like a mess to me. It seems so jumbled. The threads seem so dark. Why can't they all be bright?"

The Father seems to tell me, "My child, you go about your business of doing My business, and one day I will bring you to Heaven and put you on My knee and you will see the plan from My side.

October 9, 2006

Mikey's Goal
by: Kim Kane, A 6th Bowl of the Chicken Soup for the Soul


Last night was the last game for my eight-year-old son's soccer team. It was the final quarter. The score was two to one, my son's team in the lead. Parents encircled the field, offering encouragement.

With less than ten seconds remaining, the ball rolled in front of my son's teammate, one Mikey O'Donnel. With shouts of "Kick it!" echoing across the field, Mikey reared back and gave it everything he had. All round me the crowd erupted. O'Donnel had scored!

Then there was silence. Mikey had scored all right, but in the wrong goal, ending the game in a tie. For a moment there was total hush. You see, Mikey has Down's syndrome and for him there is no such thing as a wrong goal. All goals were celebrated by a joyous hug from Mikey. He had even been known to hug the opposing players when they scored.

The silence was finally broken when Mikey, his face filled with joy, grabbed my son, hugged him and yelled, "I scored! I scored. Everybody won! Everybody won!" For a moment I held my breath, not sure how my son would react. I need not have worried. I watched, through tears, as my son threw up his hand in the classic high-five salute and started chanting, "Way to go Mikey! Way to go Mikey!" Within moments both teams surrounded Mikey, joining in the chant and congratulating him on his goal.

Later that night, when my daughter asked who had won, I smiled as I replied, "It was a tie. Everybody won."

September 27, 2006

“Facing the Giants”

Last night I had the pleasure of viewing a brand new movie entitled “Facing the Giants.” I can honestly say that I walked out of that theater differently than when I went it. Upon leaving I overheard one teenager say rather sadly…”there wasn’t as much football as I thought..” and his mom said the same thing but more so in a shocked tone. You see every thing that we face in life…..we go at it with a pre-conceived notion of what it will be like.

See if these ring a bell with you…….” I’m running so late, why do I always get caught in the traffic jam?” try asking that to the person in traffic and late for work on September 11th. or how bout this one….” At the age of 35, going from a high school teacher to major league pitcher? Sound impossible? Ask Jimmy Morris who had his remarkable life story made into a movie by Disney called “The Rookie.” Speaking of the impossible, May 12th this year we started the final days of our share-a-thon so far from our goal that it seemed impossible to reach.

You see, we often look at the Giants in our life as unbeatable….but God tells us in Matthew 19:26 “But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, with men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." What Giant is troubling you today? Unemployment, Financial troubles, Pregnancy, your marriage, co-worker or Boss, school?? Let me offer a quote from Facing the Giants that really resonated with me……”When we win….we Praise Him, and when we lose…..we Praise Him.” If we give God our best and do what’s pleasing and honoring to Him, what’s impossible?

No matter how big the giant you are facing, remember: Nothing is too difficult for God. “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.”

September 25, 2006

Kay Poe and Esther Kim have been best friends since they were seven years old. Among other things they have in common, the two young ladies from Houston both compete at the highest levels in taekwondo. How good are they? Esther and Kay advanced to the finals in the Women's Olympic Flyweight division at the 2000 U.S. Olympic Team Trials on May 20 in Colorado Springs.

"I don't think of her as just a friend. I think of her more as a sister," Kay says. "We've grown up together, and we always push each other and help each other out the best we can training wise." What a story was unfolding! Reporters and photographers were poised to record the outcome of so intense a competition between two girls who have been close for so long. But a sports story would soon be overshadowed by a far more important friendship story.

Kay had dislocated her left kneecap in her semi-final match of the round robin tournament. Though ranked number one in the world at her sport, it was questionable that she could compete against her best friend. She could barely stand, so it was a foregone conclusion that Esther would win, travel to the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney, and represent the United States in the international competition these two had trained and worked toward for so long.

On the day of the match, Esther Kim shocked the crowd by forfeiting rather than defeat her friend in an unfair competition. In allowing the better taekwondo fighter to represent the United States in Sydney, she won a personal battle over ego and selfishness. Amidst frequent stories of cheating and taking unfair advantage in order to win at any price, Esther showed how to win by losing.

"Even though I didn't have the gold medal around me," said Esther, "for the first time in my life, I felt like a real champion." Her generosity of spirit was honored with the Citizenship Through Sports Award and with an all-expenses-paid trip to the 2000 Olympic Games from the International Olympic Committee.

In the Bible, Paul wrote about giving up certain "rights" for the sake of people he loved (see 1 Corinthians 9:1-15). Parents do it all the time for their children. And occasionally friends make magnanimous gestures like Esther's.

The next time you are inclined to bemoan the selfishness of the masses, recall this story of a twenty-year-old athlete's largess. The next time you have the chance to show magnanimity, let it inspire you to rise to the level of her example.

September 21, 2006


Every Woman is Beautiful



A little boy asked his mother, "Why are you crying?" "Because I'm a woman", she told him. "I don't understand", he said. His mum just hugged him and said, "And you never will"..

Later the little boy asked his father, "Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?" "All women cry for no reason" was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still wondering why women cry.

Finally he put in a call to God; when God got on the phone, the man said, "God, why women cry so easily?"

God said, "When I made women she had to be special. I made her shoulders strong enough to carry the weight of the world; yet, gentle enough to give comfort.

I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth and the rejection that many times come from her children.

I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going when everyone else gives up and take care of her family through sickness and fatigue without complaining.

I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under any and all circumstances, even when her child has hurt them very badly.

This same sensitivity helps her make a child's boo boo feel better and shares in their teenagers' anxieties and fears.

I gave her strength to carry her husband through his faults and fashioned her from his rib to protect his heart.

I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve to stand beside him unfalteringly.

And finally I gave her a tear to shed. This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed. The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides."

Every woman is beautiful.

September 20, 2006

Alone
by: Dr. James L. Wilson

I love the solitude of a Trout stream or a good book, and every now and then, when life gets hectic, I'll say, 'I just wish everyone will leave me alone.

A few years ago I was isolated from people after drinking radioactive iodine as a treatment for papillary cancer. I wasn't allowed any visitors, not even the doctor, instead, he stood behind a lead screen at the door to talk to me. The first few hours was wonderful, but after that, I needed human contact. Though periods of solitude are a welcome respite from 'busyness,' the truth is, I hate being alone.
It's not just me either, something happens to people when they are isolated.

Every now and then, a television reporter will put a microphone into the face of a serial killer's neighbor and ask for a description of the criminal. Inevitably, the same term will surface, 'He was a 'loner,'' they'll say, 'He kinda kept to himself.'
The FBI describes Eric Rudolph, the suspected bomber of Centennial Olympic Park during the 1996 Olympic Games, as a 'loner.' You'll remember that reporters used the same term to describe the convicted Unabomber, Ted Kaczynski, when he was arrested near Lincoln, Montana in May of 1996.

God said, 'It is not good that man should be alone,' (Gen. 2:18) so He created Eve as a wife for Adam. When Jesus sent his disciples on a mission trip, He sent them out in pairs. Yet, many Christians find themselves in spiritual isolation. They minister alone, study alone and live their Christian life alone. Though times of solitude are helpful to everyone, there is something unhealthy about being a 'Lone Ranger' Christian.

After all, even the Lone Ranger had Tonto.

September 18, 2006

Children Are Like Kites

You spend years trying to get them off the ground.
You run with them until you are both breathless. They crash ... they hit the roof ... you patch, comfort and assure them that someday they will fly.
Finally, they are airborne.

They need more string, and you keep letting it out.
They tug, and with each twist of the twine, there is sadness that goes with joy.
The kite becomes more distant, and you know it won't be long before that beautiful creature will snap the lifeline that binds you together and will soar as meant to soar ... free and alone.

Only then do you know that you have done your job.