What is this?? A page full of ----???
Actually, more correctly, the blank should have about three times the amount of letters... EXPERIENCE
What you get is an experience, when you read stuff like this that circulates around the web, have you ever really read, READ it?
All opinons are welcomed, afterall it's what one gets out of it after reading it that counts...
Certainly not what -I- think... :P
CC -- sleepypiggy(a)shaw.ca
Last Updated: Feb. 24, 2006
A two minute read.......
Read this story, and follow the
recommendation at the end......
As I was walking down life's highway
many years ago
I came upon a sign that read
Heavens Grocery Store.
When I got a little closer
the doors swung open wide
And when I came to myself
I was standing inside.
I saw a host of angels.
They were standing everywhere
One handed me a basket
and said "My child shop with care."
Everything a human needed
was in that grocery store
And what you could not carry
you could come back for more
First I got some Patience.
Love was in that same row.
Further down was Understanding,
you need that everywhere you go.
I got a box or two of Wisdom
and Faith a bag or two.
And Charity of course
I would need some of that too.
I couldn't miss the Holy Ghost
It was all over the place.
And then some Strength
and Courage to help me run this race.
My basket was getting full
but I remembered I needed Grace,
And then I chose Salvation for
Salvation was for free
I tried to get enough of that to do
for you and me.
Then I started to the counter
to pay my grocery bill,
For I thought I had everything
to do the Masters will.
As I went up the aisle
I saw Prayer and put that in,
For I knew when I stepped outside
I would run into sin.
Peace and Joy were plentiful,
the last things on the shelf.
Song and Praise were hanging near
so I just helped myself.
Then I said to the angel
"Now how much do I owe?"
He smiled and said
"Just take them everywhere you go."
Again I asked "Really now,
How much do I owe?"
"My child" he said, "God paid your bill
a long long time ago."
This poem has been sent to you
with love and for good luck.
It originated in the Netherlands
and has been around the world 9 times.
The luck has now come to you and
you will receive good luck in the mail
within six days of receiving this letter
providing you sent it out to someone else.
Do not send money as this message
has no price. Do not keep this letter
but send it on to someone who
needs good luck. Of course, good luck
is just another way of saying blessings.
Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge. The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child...
* The winner was a four-year-old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife. Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there. When his mother asked him what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said, "Nothing, I just helped him cry."
* Teacher Debbie Moon's first graders were discussing a picture of a family... One little boy in the picture had a different color hair than the other family members. One child suggested that he was adopted. A little girl said, "I know all about adoptions because I was adopted." "What does it mean to be adopted?" asked another child. "It means," said the girl, "that you grew in your mommy's heart instead of her tummy."
* A four-year-old was at the pediatrician for a check up. As the doctor looked down her ears with an otoscope, he asked, "Do you think I'll find Big Bird in here? " The little girl stayed silent. Next, the doctor took a tongue depressor and looked down her throat. He asked, "Do you think I'll find the Cookie Monster down there?" Again, the little girl was silent. Then the doctor put a stethoscope to her chest. As he listened to her heartbeat, he asked, "Do you think I'll hear Barney in there?" "Oh, no!" the little girl replied. "Jesus is in my heart. Barney's on my underpants! ! ! ."
* As I was driving home from work one day, I stopped to watch a local Little League baseball game that was being played in a park near my home. As I sat down behind the bench on the first-base line, I asked one of the boys what the score was. "We're behind 14 to nothing," he answered with a smile. "Really," I said. "I have to say you don't look very discouraged." "Discouraged?" the boy asked with a puzzled look on his face. "Why should we be discouraged? We haven't been up to bat yet."
* Whenever I'm disappointed with my spot in life, I stop and think about little Jamie Scott. Jamie was trying out for a part in a school play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though she feared he would not be chosen. On the day the parts were awarded, I went with her to collect him after school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement. "Guess what Mom," he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a lesson to me: "I've been chosen to clap and cheer."
* An Eye Witness Account from New York City, on a cold day in December some years ago: A little boy about 10 years old was standing before a shoe store on the roadway, barefooted, peering through the window, and shivering with cold. A lady approached the boy and said, "My little fellow, why are you looking so earnestly in that window?" "I was asking God to give me a pair of shoes," was the boy's reply. The lady took him by the hand and went into the store and asked the clerk to get half a dozen pairs of socks for the boy. She then asked if he could give her a basin of water and a towel. He quickly brought them to her. She took the little fellow to the back part of the store and, removing her gloves, knelt down, washed his little feet, and dried them with a towel. By this time the clerk had returned with the socks. Placing a pair upon the boy's feet, she purchased him a pair of shoes. She tied up the remaining pairs of socks and gave them to him. She patted him on the head and said, "No doubt, my little fellow, you feel more comfortable now?" As she turned to go, the astonished lad caught her by the hand, and looking up in her face, with tears in his eyes, answered the question with these words: "Are you God's Wife?"
God, Speak to MeThe man whispered, "God, speak to me"
and a meadowlark sang.
But, the man did not hear.
.
So the man yelled, "God, speak to me"
and the thunder rolled across the sky.
But, the man did not listen.
.
The man looked around and said,
"God let me see you."
And a star shined brightly.
But the man did not see.
.
And, the man shouted,
"God show me a miracle."
And, a life was born.
But, the man did not notice.
.
So, the man cried out in despair,
"Touch me God, and let me know you are here." Whereupon, God reached down
and touched the man.
But, the man brushed the butterfly away ...
And walked on.
I found this to be a great reminder that God
is always around us in the little and simple things
that we take for granted ... even in our electronic age ...
so I would like to add one more:
The man cried,
"God, I need your help!"
And an e-mail arrived reaching out
with good news and encouragement.
But, the man deleted it and continued crying ...
.
Don't miss out on a blessing
because it isn't packaged the way that you expect.
My instructions were to send this to people
that I wanted God to bless and I picked you.
Please pass this to people you want to be blessed.
Expect the unexpected...
Have A Happy Day!
> > One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally he decided the animal was old and the well needed to be covered up anyway, it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.
> > He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement, he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well and was astonished at what he saw.
> > With every shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off.
> > Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a stepping stone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step upward!
> > Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
> > 1. Free your heart from hatred.
> > 2. Free your mind from worries.
> > 3. Live simply.
> > 4. Give more.
> > 5. Expect less.
> >
> > By the way, the donkey kicked the Crap out of the farmer that tried to bury him.
> > Moral: When you try to cover your ass, it always comes back to get you
Ask, and You Shall Recieve
> >I asked God to take away my habit.
> >God said, No.
> >It is not for me to take away,
> >but for you to give it up.
> >
> >I asked God to make my handicapped child whole.
> >God said, No.
> >His spirit is whole, his body is only temporary
> >
> >I asked God to grant me patience.
> >God said, No.
> >Patience is a byproduct of tribulations;
> >it isn't granted, it is learned.
> >
> >I asked God to give me happiness.
> >God said, No.
> >I give you blessings; Happiness is up to you.
> >
> >I asked God to spare me pain.
> >God said, No.
> >Suffering draws you apart from worldly cares
> >and brings you closer to me.
> >
> >I asked God to make my spirit grow.
> >God said, No.
> >You must grow on your own!
> >but I will prune you to make you fruitful.
> >
> >I asked God for all things that I might enjoy life.
> >God said, No.
> >I will give you life, so that you may enjoy all
things.
> >
> >I ask God to help me LOVE others, as much as He loves
me.
> >God said...Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.
> >If you love God, send this to ten people and
> >back to the person that sent it.
> >THIS DAY IS YOURS DON'T THROW IT AWAY
> >
> >May God Bless You,
> >"To the world you might be one person, but to one
> >person you just might be the world"
Get started. Keep going. Finish well.
"Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began, "I'll open up your heart..."
"You'll find Jesus there," the boy interrupted.
The surgeon looked up, annoyed "I'll cut your heart open," he continued, to see how much damage has been done..."
"But when you open up my heart, you'll find Jesus in there," said the boy.
The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly. "When I see how much damage has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up, and I'll plan what to do next."
"But you'll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart."
The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart. I'll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels. And I'll find out if I can make you well."
"You'll find Jesus there too. He lives there."
The surgeon left.
The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery, "...damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration. No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest. Prognosis:, " here he paused, "death within one year."
He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud. "Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and You've cursed him to an early death. Why?"
The Lord answered and said, "The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be. Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine. His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow" The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in months. Why?"
The Lord answered, "The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for He has Done his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb."
The surgeon wept. The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, "Did you cut open my heart?" "Yes," said the surgeon.
"What did you find?" asked the boy.
"I found Jesus there," said the surgeon.
Author Unknown - Celebrate Jesus in 2002 !
If you aren't ashamed to do this, please follow the directions listed below:
Jesus said, "If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father.."
I Am Not Ashamed. Pass this on only if you mean it. "Yes, I do Love God. He is my source of existence and Savior. He keeps me functioning each and everyday. Without Him, I will be nothing. Without him, I am nothing, but with Him I can do all things through Christ that strengthens me." (Phil 4:13)
This is the simplest test. If you Love God, and are not ashamed of all the marvelous things he has done for you. Send this to ten people and the person who sent it to you!
In kindergarten your idea of a good friend was the person who let you have the red crayon when all that was left was the ugly black one.
In first grade your idea of a good friend was the person who went to the bathroom with you and held your hand as you walked through the scary halls.
In second grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you stand up to the class bully.
In third grade your idea of a good friend was the person who shared their lunch with you when you forgot yours on the bus.
In fourth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who was willing to switch square dancing partners in gym so you wouldn't have to be stuck do-si-do-ing with Nasty Nick or Smelly Susan.
In fifth grade your idea of a friend was the person who saved a seat on the back of the bus for you.
In sixth grade your idea of a friend was the person who went up to Nick or Susan, your new crush, and asked them to dance with you, so that if they said no you wouldn't have to be embarrassed.
In seventh grade your idea of a friend was the person who let you copy the social studies homework from the night before that you had.
In eighth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pack up your stuffed animals and old baseball but didn't laugh at you when you finished and broke out into tears.
In ninth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who would go to a party thrown by a senior so you wouldn't wind up being the only freshman there.
In tenth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who changed their schedule so you would have someone to sit with at lunch.
In eleventh grade your idea of a good friend was the person who gave you rides in their new car, convinced your parents that you shouldn't be grounded, consoled you when you broke up with Nick or Susan, and found you a date to the prom.
In twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you pick out a college/university, assured you that you would get into that college/university, helped you deal with your parents who were having a hard time adjusting to the idea of letting you go...
At graduation your idea of a good friend was the person who was crying on the inside but managed the biggest smile one could give as they congratulated you.
The summer after twelfth grade your idea of a good friend was the person who helped you clean up the bottles from that party, helped you sneak out of the house when you just couldn't deal with your parents, assured you that now that you and Nick or you and Susan were back together, you could make it through anything, helped you pack up for university and just silently hugged you as you looked through blurry eyes at 18 years of memories you were leaving behind, and finally on those last days of childhood, went out of their way to give you reassurance that you would make it in college as well as you had these past 18 years, and most importantly sent you off to college knowing you were loved.
Now, your idea of a good friend is still the person who gives you the better of the two choices, holds your hand when you're scared, helps you fight off those who try to take advantage of you, thinks of you at times when you are not there, reminds you of what you have forgotten, helps you put the past behind you but understands when you need to hold on to it a little longer, stays with you so that you have confidence, goes out of their way to make time for you, helps you clear up your mistakes, helps you deal with pressure from others, smiles for you when they are sad, helps you become a better person, and most importantly loves you!
Pass on to those friends of the past, and those of the future...and those you have met along the way...[crying yet? oh there's more]
Thank you for being a friend. No matter where we go or who we become, never forget who helped us get there.
There's never a wrong time to pick up a phone or send a message telling your friends how much you miss them or how much you love them.
You know who you are, pass it on to someone who you want to remind.
So send this to all your friends and maybe those who aren't but just
watch and see who sends it back.
If you love someone, tell them.
Remember always to say what you mean.
Never be afraid to express yourself. Take this opportunity to tell someone what they mean to you. Seize the day and have no regrets.
Most importantly, stay close to your friends and family, for they have helped make you the person that you are today and are what it's all about anyway. Pass this along to your friends. Let it make a difference in your day and theirs.
The difference between expressing love and having regrets is that the regrets may stay around forever. Within 1 hour you must send it to other people. Within five days you will have a miraculous occurrence in your relationships. You will find new love or have an old love rekindled. If you do not send it, you will have once again passed up the opportunity to do something loving and beautiful and continue the trend that gives you problems in your relationships. If you've received this it is because someone cares for you and it means there is probably at least someone for whom you care.
If you're too busy to take the few minutes that it would take right now to forward this to ten people, would it be the first time you didn't or that little thing that would make a difference in your relationships? [oh the guilt!] And the better you'll get at reaching out to those you care about. Here's the deal: Forward this letter to at least 10 different people; within 1 hour of receiving it.
People who care for you and that warm glowy feeling that comes from loving others.
THIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN SENT TO YOU BECAUSE YOU MEAN SOMETHING TO SOMEBODY. PLEASE SEND IT TO YOUR FRIENDS AND THOSE THAT YOU LOVE. GROWING UP, YOU WILL TRULY MEET THE FRIENDS THAT WILL LAST A LIFETIME AND WILL MEAN THE MOST TO YOU. YOUR FRIENDS WILL ALWAYS BE THERE FOR YOU.
....KEEP YOUR FRIENDSHIPS .....
Some years ago on a hot summer day in south Florida a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went.
He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.
His mother in the house was looking out the window saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, she ran toward the water, yelling to her son as loudly as she could.
Hearing her voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his mother. It was too late. Just as he reached her, the alligator reached him. From the dock, the mother grabbed her little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the mother, but the mother was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by, heard her screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator.
Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his mother's fingernails dug into his flesh in her effort to hang on to the son she loved.
The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pantlegs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Mom wouldn't let go."
You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But, some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let go. In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you.
The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms be very, very grateful. He did not and will not ever let you go.
Side Thoughts:
I can understand at that moment the mother surely didn't have anything else she can do or use to save her son. but what about God? everytime i read something like below i can't help thinking, is that the only way God can save us? why not just shoot the alligator even before it reached us? I believe God must be able to do that? then He no longer needs to put Himself in such a situation that He has to fight the tug-of-war against something that is supposed to be inferior than Him?
Furthermore, although personally i feel rather lucky that God didn't choose to destroy the whole human kind and try to create something better, sometimes i still wonder, why bother w/ us? doesn't He have anything better to do? or He already knows that even if He restarts the creation from scratch He won't be able to get anywhere better -- it just has to be like this: either do nothing or end up w/ a corrupted species like us?
Would really appreciate if someone could flush all these evil thoughts out of my mind. :o))
-jessica
From: Jeremy Liou
Hi Jessica,
My two cents:
It is easier for God to destroy the whole sinful mankind. It is so easy—that’s why God doesn’t do it. In human’s thinking, if someone is bad—just kill him. The problem is solved. Easy. In God’s thinking, if someone is bad—He saves him and makes him a new, good person. Easy? Of course not. That’s why only God can do it. And God loves to do it. It is His good pleasure. God is love.
When a human sees a battered reed, he just breaks it and looks for a better one. Easy. When a human sees a smoldering wick, he just puts it out and lights another one. Piece of cake. Issue solved. But God doesn’t do that. A battered reed He will not break off, and a smoldering wick He will not put out. God does not let go of any soul easily. He wants to saves every single lost soul. He will only let go of the soul if the soul itself insists so. Sometime, you just cannot explain everything God does. You can only accept it and trust that God does it for a good reason,
a reason that is too good for us to understand. For example, why would Jesus’ sacrifice make any sense to us? In human’s thinking, it makes sense to die for a valuable person; it
makes sense to die for a righteous person; it makes sense to die for a rich and powerful person. It doesn’t make sense to die for a poor, worthless sinner. But that’s what Jesus did. Jesus died for us not because there is a good reason to save us. Jesus died for us but because He loves us. You cannot reason Jesus’ love. You can only accept it. The fact is—Jesus did come. He did die for us. And He indeed is
risen.
So, life becomes a very simple choice. Either you choose the truth: God is love. He so loves us that He sends His only begotten son to die for us. Believing the truth and you live a life feeling loved and filled with joy and hope. Or you choose the lie: there is no God and even there is, He doesn’t
love us. Believing the lie and you live a miserable life with no hope.
It is a simpe choice.
A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it was "too crowded."
"I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason and, taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday school class. The child was so happy that they found room for her, and she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.
Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings. Her parents called for the kind-hearted pastor who had befriended their daughter to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled red purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note, scribbled in childish handwriting, which read: "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday School."
For two years she had saved for this offering of love. When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do. Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building. But the story does not end there...
A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a wealthy realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered to sell it to the little church for 57 cents. Church members made large donations. Checks came from far and wide.Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00--a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century). Her unselfishlove had paid large dividends. When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300. And be sure to visit Temple University, where thousands of students are educated.
Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of beautiful children, built so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside during Sunday school time.
In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russel H. Conwell, author of the book, "Acres of Diamonds" This is a true story, which goes to show WHAT GOD CAN DO WITH 57 CENTS.
Please send this back. (You'll see why.) St. Theresa Prayer (cannot be deleted) REMEMBER to make a wish before you read the prayer. That's all you have to do. There is nothing attached. This is a powerful novena.
May today there be peace within.... May you trust your highest power that you are exactly where you are meant to be.... May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith. May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.... May you be content knowing you are a child of God.... Let this presence settle into our bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance.... It is there for each and every one of you....
A wealthy man and his son loved to collect rare works of art. They had everything in their collection, from Picasso to Raphael. They would often sit together and admire the great works of art.
When the Vietnam conflict broke out, the son went to war. He was very courageous and died in battle while rescuing another soldier. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
About a month later, just before Christmas, there was a knock at the door. A young man stood at the door with a large package in his hands. He said,
"Sir, you don't know me, but I'm the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when a bullet struck him in the heart and he died instantly. He often talked about you, and your love for art."
The young man held out this package.
"I know this isn't much. I'm not
really a great artist, but I think your song would have wanted you to have
this."
The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He stared in awe at the way the soldier had captured the personality of his son in the painting. The father was so drawn to the eyes that his own eyes welled up with tears.
He thanked the young man and offered to pay
him for the picture.
"Oh, no sir, I
could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."
The father hung the portrait over his mantle. Every
time visitors came to his home he took them to see the portrait of his son
before he showed them any of the other great works he had collected.
The man died a few months later. There was to be a great auction of his paintings. Many influential people gathered, excited over seeing the great paintings and having an opportunity to purchase on for their collection.
On the platform sat the painting of the son.
The auctioneer pounded his gavel.
"We
will start the bidding with this picture of the son. Who will bid this
picture?"
There was silence. Then a
voice in the back of the room shouted, "We want to see the famous paintings.
Skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted.
"Will somebody bid for this painting? Who
will start the bidding? $100? $200?"
Another voice angrily: "We didn't come to see this painting. We
came to see Van Goghs, and Rembrandts. Get on with the real bids!"
But still the auctioneer continued. "The
son! The son! Who'll take the son?"
Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room. It was the longtime
gardener of the man and his son.
"I'll give $10 for the painting."
Being a poor man, it was all he could afford.
"We have $10, who will bid $20?"
"Give it to him for $10. Let's see the masters."
"$10 is the bid, won't someone bid
$20?"
The crowd was becoming angry.
They didn't want the picture of the son. They wanted the more worthy
investments for their collections. The auctioneer pounded the gavel.
"Going once, going twice, SOLD for $10!"
A man sitting on the second row
shouted, "Now let's get on with the collection!" The auctioneer laid down his
gavel. "I'm sorry, the auction is over."
"What about the paintings?"
"I'm sorry. When I was called to conduct this
auction, I was told of a secret stipulation in the will. I was not allowed to
reveal that stipulation until this time. Only the painting of the son would be
auctioned. Whoever bought that painting would inherit the entire estate,
including the paintings. The man who took the son gets everything!"
God gave his son 2,000 years ago to die on the cross. Much like the auctioneer, His message today is: "The son, the son, who'll take the son?"
Because whoever takes the Son gets everything. For God so loved the world he gave His only begotten Son, for who so ever believes in him shall have eternal life. That's love.
Please share this story with your friends.
Remember that maybe "one" of the people you might have taken the time to send this to, may be just the person who needs to hear this message. You have a choice to make.
God Bless You
In light of the many perversions and jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke, it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.
Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this happen?" (regarding the attacks on Sept. 11).
Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.
And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"
In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.
Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school . the Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbor as yourself. And we said OK.
Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.
Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.
Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW."
Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.
Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.
Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.
Are you laughing?
Funny how when you forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they WILL think of you for sending it. Funny how we can be more worried about what other people think of us than what God thinks of us.
Pass it on if you think it has merit. If not then just discard it... no one will know you did. But, if you discard this thought process, don't sit back and complain about what bad shape the world is in!
The 92-year-old, petite, well-poised and proud lady, who is fully dressed each morning by eight o'clock, with her hair fashionably coiffed and makeup perfectly applied, even though she is legally blind, moved to a nursing home today. Her husband of 70 years recently passed away, making the move necessary. After many hours of waiting patiently in the lobby of the nursing home, she smiled sweetly when told her room was ready. As she maneuvered her walker to the elevator, I provided a visual description of her tiny room, including the eyelet sheets that had been hung on her window. "I love it," she stated with the enthusiasm of an eight-year-old having just been presented with a new puppy. "Mrs. Jones, you haven't seen the room .... just wait."
"That doesn't have anything to do with it," she replied. "Happiness is something you decide on ahead of time. Whether I like my room or not doesn't depend on how the furniture is arranged... it's how I arrange my mind. I already decided to love it .. "It's a decision I make every morning when I wake up. I have a choice; I can spend the day in bed recounting the difficulty I have with the parts of my body that no longer work, or get out of bed and be thankful for the ones that do. Each day is a gift, and as long as my eyes open I'll focus on the new day and all the happy memories I've stored away ... just for this time in my life. Old age is like a bank account ... you withdraw from what you've put in .. So, my advice to you would be to deposit a lot of happiness in the bank account of memories . Thank you for your part in filling my Memory bank. I am still depositing. Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.
I heard this person's story on the radio today and thought it was too powerful not to share. A man from Norfolk, VA called a local radio station to share this on Sept 11th, 2003. His Name was Robert Matthews.
These are his words:
"A few weeks before Sept 11th, 2001 my wife and I found out we were going to have our first child. She planned a trip out to California to visit her sister. On our way to the airport, we prayed that God would grant my wife a safe trip and be with her.
Shortly after I said 'amen' we both heard a loud pop and the car shook violently. we had blown out a tire. I replaced the tire as quickly as I could, but we still missed her flight. Both very upset, we drove home. I received a call from my father who was a retired FDNY. He asked what my wife's flight number was, but explained that we missed the flight. My father informed me that her flight was the one that crashed into the southern tower. I was too shocked to speak. My father also had more news for me; and that was he was going to go help with the WTC rescue. 'This is not something I can just sit by for, I have to do something.' I was concerned for his safety, of course, but more because he had never given his life to Christ. After a brief debate, I knew his mind was made up. Before he got off of the phone, he said, 'take good care of my grandchild.' Those were the last words I ever heard my father say; he died while helping in the rescue effort.
My joy that my prayer of safety for my wife had been answered quickly became anger. Anger at God, at my father, and at myself. I had gone for nearly 2 years blaming God for taking my father away. My son would never know his grandfather, my father had never accepted Christ, and I never got to say goodbye. Then something happened. About 2 months ago, I was sitting at home with my wife and my son, when there was a knock on the door. I looked at my wife, but I could tell she wasn't expecting anyone.
I opened the door to a couple with a small child. The man looked at me and asked if my father's name was Jake Matthews. I told him it was. He quickly grabbed my hand and said, 'I never got the chance to meet your father, but it is an honor to meet his son.' He explained to me that his wife had worked in the World Trade Center and had been caught inside after the attack. She was pregnant and had been caught under debris. He then explained that my father had been the one to find his wife and free her. My eyes welled up with tears as I thought of my father giving his life for people like this. He then said, 'there is something else you need to know.' His wife then told me that as my father worked to free her, she talked to him and lead him to Christ. I began sobbing at the news. Now I know that when I get to heaven, my father will be standing beside Jesus to welcome me, and that this family would be able to thank him themselves. "
When their baby boy was born, they named him Jacob Matthew in honor of my Dad, the man who gave his life so mother and baby could live.
This story should help us to realize two things: First, that though it has been two years since the attacks, we should never let it become a mere tragic memory. And second, but most important, God is always in control. We may not see the reason behind things, and we may never know this side of heaven, but God is ALWAYS in control.
Please take time to share this amazing story with those you love. You may never know the impact it may have on someone.
_______________ Sue Krohn
HRIT - Global Focal Point for EDRC/Payroll
Business: 409-948-5441
Cell: 281-684-4866
krohnsd@dow.com
A Christian went to his favorite barber shop for his weekly haircut and beard trimming. In the course of their conversation, they touched upon the subject of God. The barber said: "Look man, I don't think that God exists as you believe."
"Why do you think that?" asked the Christian.
"Well, it's so easy; you only have to go out in the street to realize that God does not exist. If God existed, would there be so many sick people? Would there be abused or crippled children? If God existed, there would be no suffering or pain. Would there be murder or even war? I cannot imagine a loving God who would permit ANY of these things."
The Christian didn't want to enter into an argument and could think of no immediate response to the barber's logic. The barber finished his job and the Christian fellow left the shop. The moment he stepped out the door he saw a man sitting on the curb whose long hair and beard were in need of a barber's attention (It looked so long, dirty and untidy).
The Christian turned and reentered the barber shop and said to the barber: "You know what? Barbers absolutely do not exist!"
"How can you say that barbers do not exist?" exclaimed the barber. "Well, I'm here and I'm a barber. I just cut your hair!!!"
"No!" the Christian exclaimed. "Barbers do not exist; because if they did exist, there would be no people with long hair and stringy beard like that man out there in the street, sitting on the curb."
"Oh, barbers do indeed exist! What happens is that people first have to come to me. They seek me out and find me!"
"You are exactly right!"- affirmed the Christian. "That's exactly the point. God does exist, what happens is people don't go to Him and do not look for Him. That's why there's so much pain and suffering in the world."
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If you are feeling blessed, repay the blessings bestowed unto you and do something for others.
A blessing cannot be kept. If it stops with you, then the blessing will disappear. The blessing will only keep working if it is continuously passed around. If you are a recipient of a blessing, keep the blessing working by being the source of blessing to other people.
He was in the first third grade class I taught at Saint Mary's School in Morris, Minn. All 34 of my students were dear to me, but Mark Eklund was one in a million. Very neat in appearance, but had that happy-to-be-alive attitude that made even his occasional mischievousness delightful.
Mark talked incessantly. I had to remind him again and again that talking without permission was not acceptable. What impressed me so much, though, was his sincere response every time I had to correct him for misbehaving - "Thank you for correcting me, Sister!" I didn't know what to make of it at first, but before long I became accustomed to hearing it many times a day. One morning my patience was growing thin when Mark talked once too often, and then I made a novice teacher's mistake.
I looked at Mark and said, "If you say one more word, I am going to tape your mouth shut!"
It wasn't ten seconds later when Chuck blurted out, "Mark is talking again. "I hadn't asked any of the students to help me watch Mark, but since I had stated the punishment in front of the class, I had to act on it. I remember the scene as if it had occurred this morning. I walked to my desk, very deliberately opened my drawer and took out a roll of masking tape.
Without saying a word, I proceeded to Mark's desk, tore off two pieces of tape and made a big X with them over his mouth. I then returned to the front of the room. As I glanced at Mark to see how he was doing, he winked at me. That did it!! I started laughing. The class cheered as I walked back to Mark's desk, removed the tape, and shrugged my shoulders.
His first words were, "Thank you for correcting me, Sister."
At the end of the year, I was asked to teach junior-high math. The years flew by, and before I knew it Mark was in my classroom again. He was more handsome than ever and just as polite. Since he had to listen carefully to my instruction in the "new math," he did not talk as much in ninth grade as he had in third.
One Friday, things just didn't feel right. We had worked hard on a new concept all week, and I sensed that the students were frowning, frustrated with themselves and edgy with one another. I had to stop this crankiness before it got out of hand. So I asked them to list the names of the other students in the room on two sheets of paper, leaving a space between each name. Then I told them to think of the nicest thing they could say about each of their classmates and write it down. It took the remainder of the class period to finish their assignment, and as the students left the room, each handed me their papers. Charlie smiled.
Mark said, "Thank you for teaching me, Sister. Have a good weekend." That Saturday, I wrote down the name of each student on a separate sheet of paper, and I listed what everyone else had said about that individual. On Monday I gave each student his or her list. Before long, the entire class was smiling.
"Really?" I heard whispered. "I never knew that meant anything to anyone!" "I didn't know others liked me so much." No one ever mentioned those papers in class again. I never knew if they discussed them after class or with their parents, but it didn't matter. The exercise had accomplished its purpose. The students were happy with themselves and one another again.
That group of students moved on. Several years later, after I returned from vacation, my parents met me at the airport. As we were driving home, Mother asked me the usual questions about the trip - the weather, my experiences in general. There was a lull in the conversation.
Mother gave Dad a sideways glance and simply said, "Dad?" My father cleared his throat as he usually did before something important. "The Eklunds called last night," he began.
"Really?" I said. "I haven't heard from them in years. I wonder how Mark is."
Dad responded quietly. "Mark was killed in Vietnam," he said. "The funeral is tomorrow, and his parents would like it if you could attend."
To this day I can still point to the exact spot on I-494 where Dad told me about Mark. I had never seen a serviceman in a military coffin before. Mark looked so handsome, so mature.
All I could think at that moment was, "Mark I would give all the masking tape in the world if only you would talk to me." The church was packed with Mark's friends. Chuck's sister sang "The Battle Hymn of the republic." Why did it have to rain on the day of the funeral? It was difficult enough at the graveside. The pastor said the usual prayers, and the bugler played taps. One by one those who loved Mark took a last walk by the coffin and sprinkled it with holy water. I was the last one to bless the coffin.
As I stood there, one of the soldiers who acted as pallbearer came up to me. "Were you Mark's math teacher?" he asked. I nodded as I continued to stare at the coffin. "Mark talked about you a lot," he said.
After the funeral, most of Mark's former classmates headed to Chuck's farmhouse for lunch. Mark's mother and father were there, obviously waiting for me. "We want to show you something," his father said, taking a wallet out of his pocket.
"They found this on Mark when he was killed. We thought you might recognize it." Opening the billfold, he carefully removed two worn pieces of notebook paper that had obviously been taped, folded and refolded many times. I knew without looking that the papers were the ones on which I had listed all the good things each of Mark's classmates had said about him.
"Thank you so much for doing that," Mark's mother said. "As you can see, Mark treasured it."
Mark's classmates started to gather around us.
Charlie smiled rather sheepishly and said, "I still have my list. It's in the top drawer of my desk at home."
Chuck's wife said, "Chuck asked me to put his in our wedding album."
"I have mine too," Marilyn said.
"It's in my diary."
Then Vicki, another classmate, reached into her pocketbook, took out her wallet and showed her worn and frazzled list to the group. "I carry this with me at all times," Vicki said without batting an eyelash. "I think we all saved our lists." That's when I finally sat down and cried. I cried for Mark and for all his friends who would never see him again.
Written by: Sister Helen P. Mrosla
The density of people in society is so thick that we forget that life will end one day. And we don't know when that one day will be. So please, tell the people you love and care for, that they are special and important.
Tell them, before it is too late.
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder. I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being.
She said, "Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty seven years old. Can I give you a hug?"
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, "Of course you may!" and she gave me a giant squeeze. "Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?" I asked.
She jokingly replied, "I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, have a couple of children, and then retire and travel."
"No seriously," I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
"I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!" she told me. After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake. We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this "time machine" as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet and I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor. Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, "I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know."
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began: "We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success:
"You have to laugh and find humor every day." "You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!"
"There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up. If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight. Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding the opportunity in change."
"Have no regrets. The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets."
She concluded her speech by courageously singing "The Rose." She challenged each of us to study the lyrics and live them out in our daily lives.
At the year's end Rose finished the college degree she had begun all those years ago. One week after graduation Rose died peacefully in her sleep. Over two thousand college students attended her funeral in tribute to the wonderful woman who taught by example that it's never too late to be all you can possibly be!
"I couldn't really tell if he was crying but it was pretty obvious. Chinese guy, just like me but slightly older. Right in the middle of the cafeteria. He had the hopelessness pose. Shoulders heavy, elbows on table, hands on forehead (occasionally wiping tears), head leaned forward, deep sighing... His leg was amputated. I wonder if it was recent. I wonder it was due diabetes or a car accident or... I wonder how I would react to an amputation. No more sports, no more dancing, no more nursing. You can't help others if you can't help yourself first.
The day after I chill at Stanley park. I see a man running with what looks like a towel wrapped around his leg. I take a closer look and it's a prosthetic leg. They are getting really good now. I can barely tell. There is always hope. It may take a while to heal physically and mentally or it may never heal but there is always hope.
Another man cries. I know him this time. He is my patient. I read his chart and it states "Not a candidate for surgery". I'm puzzled because I am to prep him for the O.R. tomorrow morning. Later I found out that Doctors have told him the consequences of not doing the surgery and going ahead with the surgery. Because of his previous history of respiratory problem he has a 25% of dying in the O.R. He chooses to go ahead. This man has the outer appearance of a Harley Davison Motorist, full beard and rather large. Tears are flowing from this all around tough guy, which is quite understandable because no one wants to die. Who wouldn't be scared? He never got to fully reminisce, never had a last chance to check if his life mattered. I guess we usually don't nowadays. I never found out if he made it, I had a few days off.
So I urge you to continually assess what matters most. What's that you ask? If you don't know by now you've got a lot to work on." -- Thomas Ma
We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, then another.
Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they are.
After that, we're frustrated that we have teenagers to deal with.
We will certainly be happy when they are out of that stage.
We tell ourselves that our life will be complete when our spouse gets his or her act together, when we get a nicer car, are able to go on a nice vacation, when we retire.
The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now.
If not now, when?
Your life will always be filled with challenges.
It's best to admit this to yourself and decide to be happy anyway.
One of my favorite quotes comes from Alfred D Souza. He said,
"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life.
But there was always some obstacle in the way, Something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid.
Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my "life".
This perspective has helped me to see that there is no way to happiness.
Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment that you have and treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time...and remember that time waits for no one.
So, stop waiting until you finish school,
· until you go back to school,
· until you lose ten pounds,
· until you gain ten pounds,
· until you have kids,
· until your kids leave the house,
· until you start work,
· until you retire,
· until you get married,
· until you get divorced,
· until Friday night, until Sunday morning,
· until you get a new car or home,
· until your car or home is paid off,
· until spring,
· until summer,
· until fall,
· until winter,
· until you clean the house
· until the first or fifteenth,
· until your song comes on,
· until you've had a drink,
· until you've sobered up,
· until you die,
· to decide that there is no better time than right now to be happy.
· Happiness is a journey, not a destination