Emails of Wisdom (Maybe??!!!): July 2010

Saturday, July 31, 2010

Friday, July 30, 2010

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When life problems seem overwhelming,
it helps to look around and see what others are having to endure.
Then you may see for yourself that you are more fortunate than you realized.

~ Author known to God ~

Monday, July 26, 2010

A Lesson In Judgment

One of the toughest tasks a church faces is choosing a good minister. The chairman of the official board undergoing this painful process finally lost patience.

He'd just witnessed the Pastoral Selection Committee reject applicant after applicant for various minor faults -- real or imagined. It was time, he thought, for a bit of soul-searching on the part of the committee. So, after the meeting adjourned, he wrote a letter to the Pastoral Selection Committee, which he stood-up and read at the next Pastoral Selection meeting. Supposedly, the letter was from another Pastoral applicant.

Gentlemen: Understanding your pulpit is vacant, I should like to apply for the position. I have many qualifications. I've been a preacher with much success and also had some success as a writer. Some say I'm a good organizer. I've been a leader most places I've been.

I'm over 50 years of age and have never preached in one place for more than three years. In some places, I have had to leave town after my preaching caused riots and disturbances. I must admit I have been in jail three or four times, but not because of any real wrong-doing. My health is not too good, but I still accomplish a great deal. The churches I have preached in have been small, though located in large cities.

I've not gotten along well with religious leaders in some of the towns where I have preached. In fact, some have threatened me, and even attacked me physically. I am not too good at keeping records. I have been known to forget whom I have baptized. However, if you can use me, I promise to do my very best for you.

The chairman than turned to the other committee members and said, "Well, what do you think? Shall we call him?"

The good church committee members were appalled! Consider a sickly, trouble-making, absent-minded, ex-jailbird? Are you crazy, they asked? Who signed that application? Who had such colossal gall to think we would consider someone like that to be our church minister?

The chairman of the board eyed all the committee members keenly before he replied -- "It's signed: 'The Apostle Paul'."

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged, do not condemn, and you will not be condemned, forgive, and you will be forgiven."
Luke 6:37

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Little Piece

A fourteenth-century Italian stained-glass artist was summoned to design and create a huge portrait for the window of a cathedral in Chartres, France, a place well known for its stained-glass work. He laid all of the pieces he was going to use out on the floor of the cathedral. They were beautiful to behold; most of them were large and colorful. Some of the colors from that time cannot even be reproduced today. Among these awesome pieces of glass was a small, clear piece about as big as your fingernail. As the stained-glass portrait was assembled, that little piece remained on the floor. Only the big colorful pieces of glass were used.

On the day of the window's completion, the little piece of clear glass was still lying on the ground. The entire city gathered to witness the unveiling of the brilliant and beautiful stained-glass portrait. The artist stood in front of the crowd, made his speech, and dramatically pulled down the cloth cover. The crowd gasped at the beauty of the colorful window glowing in the sunlight.

After a few seconds, however, the crowd grew silent. They sensed that something was missing, that the portrait was unfinished. The great artist then walked over to where the little clear piece of glass lay, picked it up, and placed it in the portrait, right in the center of Jesus' eye. As the sun hit that little piece, it gave off a dazzling sparkle.

The magnificent stained glass window still draws visitors. The first thing they see is that sparkle in Jesus' eye.

Do you ever feel like that little piece of clear glass? Left out. Untalented. A disappointment. You doubt you can ever do anything for God. Let the story of that last little piece remind you that God thinks of you as the apple of his eye

"Guard me as the pupil of an eye, shelter me in the shadow of your wings" Psalms 17:8

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Your Turn

I was on my way to the mountains to visit The Homestead about four years ago to soak up the scenery and cleanse my soul. It's a ritual that is like pressing a reset button in my life. The scenery is so beautiful.

While driving, I got the urge to stop in a small town to go a dollar store to buy some colored writing tablets. These tablets inspire me and the colors seem to be able to pull the words out of me.

I got off at the Lexington exit and saw a Dollar Tree Store. I had never shopped there and didn't know if I would find the tablets that I love there. I almost decided to keep driving and go to the next exit, but instead, stopped for lunch and then went to the store. I did find some pretty writing tablets and was eager to get back on the road to get to The Homestead.

When I went to pay for them, I realized I had left my cash at home and only had $8 on me. I had credit cards thankfully and my purchase came to $7.28. That was ironic because of what happened next.

As I was pulling out of the parking lot approaching the stop sign, there stood a woman holding a sign that said, "Stranded - need money to get back to Michigan." I read her sign and briefly our eyes met. I drove off, but instantly I knew that THIS was the real reason that I was prompted to get off at that exit.

I went to the nearest gas station and explained to the attendant that I wanted to help the lady just down the street who was stranded. I would charge the gas to my credit card, give her the receipt, and he was to accept the receipt and give her the gas.

He tried to discourage me, saying that somebody had a similar sign on a camper a couple of days before. But that didn't matter to me. I was sure in my heart that I was the person who was supposed to help this woman. I would rather be counted as an angel in the eyes of God than a fool in the eyes of the gas attendant.

Besides, many many years ago in the cold of winter I passed by a lady without a coat. The still small voice said "give her your coat." I only had one winter coat myself, but I did have an all weather coat at home. I kept going, but once inside I knew it had to be God nudging me to do this and I decided to do it. I was only in the building for a few minutes but when I came out she was no where to be found. I felt awful. I made the decision then and there that I would always honor that still small voice.

I imagined how this woman from Michigan must have felt being miles away from home, a stranger counting on the goodness of others to extend her a helping hand. I felt a warm feeling inside knowing that I would be the bridge to get her back on the road and "back home."

I remembered being stranded with just a flat tire, but that can be stressful if you don't have a spare. It took 45 minutes before someone stopped to help me. I knew that someone would. I just had to be patient. I knew this because I have always tried to sow good seeds and be generous so I knew that in MY time of need, someone would step up to the plate and help me.

This lady was miles from home and stranded. Yet God knew exactly where she was and used me to answer her prayer. I left home thinking I was going on vacation. I got off the exit thinking I was buying writing tablets, but God had another assignment for me that day.

Suppose I had listened to the gas attendant for fear that I was being taken advantage of? Suppose she really was taking advantage of me? I may never know.

This I do know: If you have never been in that place in your life, it's easy to dismiss a person who is reaching out for help. But if you have been at a low place in life, you will always rise to the occasion because you remember "when" and the old saying "there but for the grace of God go I."

You never know how you will be used to answer the whispered prayer of someone else. When you feel the gentle urge to be a Good Samaritan, rise to the occasion.

Or maybe YOU are the one stranded at an unfamiliar location in your life like the woman was -- remember God knows exactly where you are and will send you the help you need. Don't be discouraged if people keep passing you buy. The right person with the right heart is on their way to you.

A Good Samaritan IS coming your way. And when things get better for you, it's your turn to be one.

by Sharmaine L. Hobbs

Friday, July 23, 2010

Wanna Borrow A Jack?

One day I went to a lawyer friend for advice.

"I'm in real trouble" I said. "My neighbors across the road are going on vacation for a month; and instead of boarding their dogs they are going to keep them locked up and a woman is coming to feed them, if she doesn't forget. Meanwhile they'll be lonely and bark all day and howl all night, and I won't be able to sleep. I'll either have to call the SPCA to haul them away or I'll go berserk and go over there and shoot them and then when my neighbors return, they'll go berserk and come over and shoot me.

My lawyer patted back a delicate yawn. "Let me tell you a story," he said. "And don't stop me if you've heard it because it will do you good to hear it again."

"A fellow was speeding down a country road late at night and BANG! went a tire. He got out and looked but he had no jack.

"Then he said to himself. 'Well, I'll just walk to the nearest farmhouse and borrow a jack.' He saw a light in the distance and said, 'Well, I'm in luck; the farmer's up. I'll just knock on the door and say I'm in trouble, would you please lend me a jack? And he'll say, why sure, neighbor, help yourself, but bring it back.'

"He walked on a little farther and the light went out so he said to himself, 'Now he's gone to bed, and he'll be annoyed because I'm bothering him so he'll probably want some money for his jack. And I'll say, all right, it isn't very neighborly but I'll give you a quarter.

And he'll say, do you think you can get me out of bed in the middle of the night and then offer me a quarter? Give me a dollar or get yourself a jack somewhere else.'

"By the time he got to the farmhouse the fellow had worked himself into a lather. He turned into the gate and muttered. 'A dollar! All right, I'll give you a dollar. But not a cent more! A poor devil has an accident and all he needs is a jack. You probably won't let me have one no matter what I give you. That's the kind of guy you are.'

"Which brought him to the door and he knocked angrily, loudly. The farmer stuck his head out the window above the door and hollered down, 'Who's there? What do you want?' The fellow stopped pounding on the door and yelled up, 'You and your stupid jack! You know what you can do with it!'"

When I stopped laughing, I started thinking, and I said, "Is that what I've been doing?"

"Right," he said, "and you'd be surprised how many people come to a lawyer for advice, and instead of calmly stating the facts, start building up a big imaginary fight; what he'll say to his partner, what she'll say to her husband, or how they'll tell the Old Man off about his will. So I tell them the story about the jack and they cool off.

"The next time I hear from them, one tells me that the partner was glad to meet him halfway; the gal says she can't understand it, her husband was so reasonable she thought she must have gotten somebody else on the phone; the relatives found out the Old Man had already been asking a lawyer how he could give everything to them before he died, to save them inheritance tax."

I thought, "How true! Most of us go through life bumping into obstacles we could easily bypass; spoiling for a fight and lashing out in blind rages at fancied wrongs and imaginary foes.

"And we don't even realize what we are doing until someone startles us one day with a vivid word like a lightning flash on a dark night."

Well, the other night I was driving home from the city. I was late for dinner and I hadn't phoned my wife. As I crawled along in a line of cars, I became more and more frustrated and angry. I'll tell her I was caught in the heavy weekend traffic and she'll say, "Why didn't you phone me before you left town?"

Then I'll say, "What difference does it make anyway, I'm here!" And she'll say, "Yes, and I'm here, too, and I've been here all day waiting to hear from you!" And I'll say, "I suppose I haven't anything else to do but call you up every hour on the hour and make like a lovebird!" And she'll say, "You mean like a wolf, but you wouldn't be calling me!"

By this time I am turning into the drive and I am plenty steamed up.

As I jumped out and slammed the car door, my wife flung open the window upstairs.

"All right!" I shouted up to her, "Say it!"

"I will," she cooed softly. "Wanna borrow a jack?"

Thursday, July 22, 2010

The Night Animals Talk

In the frosty mountains and on the snowy fields of Norway, there is a legend that draws children to all kinds to stables and stalls throughout the country on each Christmas Eve night. They are hoping to hear a miracle. They are waiting to hear the animals talk.

Over 2,000 years ago, Jesus was born in a stable in Bethlehem. This was no abandoned place, but was a working stable, filled with animals of all kinds. Into these humble surroundings, encircled by the innocent creatures of God, the Savior of man came into the world.

Now according to legend, at least, Christ's birth occurred at exactly midnight. Inside the stable, the animals watched in wonder as the new-born babe was lovingly wrapped in swaddling clothes and placed in a manger. Suddenly, God gave voice to the animals and immediately they began to praise God for the miracle they had just seen. This went on for several minutes and, just before the entrance of the shepherds -- who had hurried to the stable because angels had told them the Christ had been born there -- the animals again fell silent. The only humans who had heard them were Mary, Joseph and, of course, the Christ child.

The legend of the talking animals persists to this day in Scandinavia. And every Christmas Eve, wide-eyed children creep into stables just before midnight to hear the animals praise God for the wondrous birth of His Son. Of course, adults scoff at this. "Old wives tales," they grump. "Those children should be home in bed, not out in the cold waiting for the family cow to preach a sermon."

But the children know -- or at least believe -- that animals really do praise God at midnight every Christmas Eve. And who of us -- those who believe in an all-powerful God -- can say that it really doesn't happen?

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

The Difference Between Heaven & Hell

A man spoke with the Lord about heaven and hell. The Lord said to the man "come, I will show you hell." They entered a room where a group of hungry people sat around a huge pot of cooking stew. Everyone in the room was starving. Each person held a spoon that reached the pot but each spoon had a handle so much longer than their own arms that it could not be used to get the stew into their own mouths. The suffering was terrible. "Come now, I will show you heaven" the Lord said.

They entered a room identical to the first, the big pot of stew, the group of people and the same long-handled spoons. But here everyone was happy and well nourished. "I don't understand" said the man. "Why is everyone happy here and miserable in the other room? Everything is the same."

"Here, said the Lord, they have learned to SERVE each other."

"After all brothers, you were called to be free; do not use your freedom as an opening for self-indulgence, but be servants to one another in love, since the whole law is summarized in one commandment: You must love your neighbor as yourself."
Galatians 5: 13-14

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

The Wemmick Parable...

The Wemmicks were small wooden people. Each of the wooden people was carved by a woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village. Every Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the village.

And all day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing: They gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people could be seen sticking stars or dots on one another. The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars. But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmicks gave dots. The talented ones got stars, too. Some could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words or could sing very pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars. Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star it made them feel so good that they did something else and got another star. Others, though, could do little. They got dots.

Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather around and give him dots. Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more dots. He would try to explain why he fell and say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him more dots. After a while he had so many dots that he didn't want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb, such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him another dot. In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and give him one without any reason. "He deserves lots of dots," the wooden people would agree with one another. "He's not a good wooden person." After a while Punchinello believed them. "I'm not a good Wemmick," he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had a lot of dots. He felt better around them.

One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met. She had no dots or stars. She was just wooden. Her name was Lulia. It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just that the stickers didn't stick. Some admired Lulia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off.

Some would look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But it wouldn't stay either. "That's the way I want to be," thought Punchinello. "'I don't want anyone's marks." So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did it. "It's easy," Lulia replied. "every day I go see Eli."

"Eli?"

"Yes, Eli. The woodcarver. I sit in the workshop with him."

"Why?"

"Why don't you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He's there." And with that the Wemmick with no marks turned and skipped away.

"But he won't want to see me!" Punchinello cried out. Lulia didn't seem to hear him. So Punchinello went home. He sat near a window and watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other stars and dots. "It's not right," he muttered to himself. And he resolved to go see Eli. He walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big shop. His wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to see the top of the workbench. A hammer was as long as his arm.

Punchinello swallowed hard. "I'm not staying here!" and he turned to leave, he heard his name "Punchinello?" The voice was deep and strong.

Punchinello stopped. "Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look at you."

Punchinello turned slowly and looked at the large bearded craftsman. "You know my name?" the little Wemmick asked.

"Of course I do. I made you." Eli stooped down and picked him up and set him on the bench. "Hmmm," the maker spoke thoughtfully as he inspected the gray circles. "Looks like you've been given some bad marks."

"I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."

"Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care what the other Wemmicks think."

"You don't?"

"No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, said Eli... All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special."

Punchinello laughed. "Me, special? Why? I can't walk fast. I can't jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?"

Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden shoulders, and spoke very slowly. "Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me." Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this - much less his maker. He didn't know what to say. "Every day I've been hoping you'd come," Eli explained.

"I came because I met someone who had no marks."

"I know. She told me about you."

"Why don't the stickers stay on her?"

"Because she has decided that what I think is more important than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them."

"What?"

"The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about the stickers."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"You will, but it will take time. You've got a lot of marks. For now, just come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care."

Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the ground. "Remember," Eli said as the Wemmick walked out the door. "You are special because I made you. And I don't make mistakes."

Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, "I think he really means it." And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.

Remember that YOU ARE SPECIAL and YOU ARE LOVED, because YOU are God's most important and special creation!

Monday, July 19, 2010

Flying Above The Storm

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 high above the storm.

While the storm rages below, the eagle is soaring high above it, gliding with ease.

The eagle does not escape the storm, it just simply uses the storm to lift it higher.

It rises on the winds that bring the storm into its world.

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 faith toward God!!!

The storms do not have to overcome us.

We can allow God to lift us above them. God enables us to ride the winds of the storm that brings sickness, pain, tragedy, failure and disappointments in our lives, and make something good come from it.

We can soar above the storm.

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

"But those who hope in the Lord will regain their strength, they will sprout wings like eagles, though they run they will not go weary, though they walk, they will never tire"
Isaiah 40:31

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Someone To Love

During my second year of college I was scouting around for a place to live, as my roommates had dropped out of school. One Sunday after church the pastor put his arm around me and said, "I understand you need a room. Our daughter is in New Zealand this year as a foreign exchange student. If you'd like to stay with us you may use her room."

To be honest, I really didn't want to stay with "the preacher's family." I was 19 years old and on my own. But then he told me how much rent would be -- a ridiculously low figure that included one home-cooked meal a day. I thought about the offer for about a minute and decided to move in.

At the end of the semester I had planned to find other living arrangements, since the daughter was to return home. But they asked if I wanted to stay on another term, suggesting I move across the hall and share a room with their son. By this time I seemed to have been adopted into their family -- her people became my people, as it was put so beautifully in the old biblical story of Ruth. I happily accepted the offer.

As I vacated the daughter's bedroom, I thought it might be nice to have a little sister to look after. But when I later met my new sister, I realized that this idea of looking after her might be more interesting than I first imagined.

We eventually fell in love, married, and have looked after one another for many years. There have been times that life turned out to be more challenging than either of us could have known. But we have always been able to go forward largely because we knew that somebody deeply cared.

It isn't about marriage ... it's about love. It's about mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers and special friends who are as close as family. It's about anybody who can say, "I'll be around -- you can count on me. I'll try to look after you and sometimes I will need you to look after me."

Is there somebody you can depend on? And are others counting on you? We travel the path of life best when there is somebody to look after, and when someone is looking after us.

by Steve Goodier

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Four Seasons

Don't judge a life by one difficult season.

There was a man who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn to not judge things too quickly. So he sent them each on a quest, in turn, to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away.

The first son went in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in summer, and the youngest son in the fall.

When they had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe what they had seen.

The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted. The second son said no - it was covered with green buds and full of promise.

The third son disagreed, he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful, it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen.

The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfillment.

The man then explained to his sons that they were all right, because they had each seen but one season in the tree's life.

He told them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season, and that the essence of who they are - and the pleasure, joy, and love that come from that life - can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons are up.

If you give up when it's winter, you will miss the promise of your spring, the beauty of your summer, fulfillment of your fall. Don't let the pain of one season destroy the joy of all the rest.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Nudging The Balance

A 91-year-old woman died after living a very long dignified life. When she met God, she asked Him something that had really bothered her for a very long time. "If Man was created in God's image, and if all men are created equal, why do people treat each other so badly?"

God replied that each person who enters our life has a unique lesson to teach us. It is only through these lessons that we learn about life, people and our relationships with God. This confused the woman, so God began to explain:

"When someone lies to you, it teaches you that things are not always what they seem. The truth is often far beneath the surface. Look beyond the masks people wear if you want to know what is in their hearts. Remove your own masks to let people know who you really are.

When someone steals from you it teaches you that nothing is forever. Always appreciate what you have. You never know when you might lose it. Never take your friends or family for granted, because today and sometimes only this very moment is the only guarantee you may have.

When someone inflicts injury upon you, it teaches you that the human state is a very fragile one. Protect and take care of your body as best as you can, it's the one thing that you are sure to have forever.

When someone mocks you, it teaches you that no two people are alike. When you encounter people who are different from you, do not judge them by how they look or act, instead base it on the contents of what is in their hearts.

When someone breaks your heart, it teaches you that loving someone does not always mean that the person will love you back. But don't turn your back on love, because when you find the right person, the joy that one person brings you will make up for all of your past hurts. Times a thousand fold.

When someone holds a grudge against you, it teaches you that everyone makes mistakes. When you are wronged, the most virtuous thing you can do is forgive the offender without pretense. Forgiving those who have hurt us is often the most difficult and painful of life's experiences, but it is also the most courageous thing a person can do.

When a loved one is unfaithful to you, it teaches you that resisting temptation is Man's greatest challenge. Be vigilant in your resistance against all temptations. By doing so, you will be rewarded with an enduring sense of satisfaction far greater than the temporary pleasure by which you were tempted.

When someone cheats you, it teaches you that greed is the root of all evil. Aspire to make your dreams come true, no matter how lofty they may be. Do not feel guilty about your success, but never let an obsession with achieving your goals lead you to engage in malevolent activities.

When someone ridicules you, it teaches you that nobody is perfect. Accept people for their merits and be tolerant of their flaws. Do not ever reject someone for imperfections over which they have no control."

Upon hearing the Lord's wisdom, the old woman became concerned that there are no lessons to be learned from man's good deeds. God replied that Man's capacity to love is the greatest gift He has. At the root of kindness and love, and each act of love also teaches us a lesson. The woman's curiosity deepened. God, once again began to explain:

"When someone loves us, it teaches us love, kindness, charity, honesty, humility, forgiveness, acceptance, and all of these can counteract all the evil in the world. For every good deed, there is one evil deed. Man alone has the power to control the balance between good and evil, but because the lessons of love are not taught often enough, the power is too often abused.

When you enter someone's life, whether by plan, chance or coincidence, consider what your lesson will be. Will you teach love or a harsh lesson of reality? When you die, will your life have resulted in more loving or more hurting? More comfort or more pain? More joy or more sadness? Each one of us has the power over the balance of the love in the world. Use it wisely!"

Don't miss an opportunity to nudge the world's scale in the right direction!

Thursday, July 15, 2010

Thank You For The Thorns

Sandra felt as low as the heels of her Birkenstocks as she pushed against a November gust and the florist shop door. Her life had been easy, like a Spring breeze. Then in the fourth month of her second pregnancy, a minor Automobile accident stole her ease. During this Thanksgiving week she would have delivered a son. She grieved over her loss. As if that weren't enough her husband's company threatened a transfer. Then her sister, whose holiday visit she coveted, called saying she could not come. What's worse, Sandra's friend infuriated her by suggesting her grief was a God-given path to maturity that would allow her to empathize with others who suffer. "Had she lost a child? -No--she has no idea what I'm feeling," Sandra shuddered. "Thanksgiving? Thankful for what?" she wondered. "For a careless driver whose truck was hardly scratched when he rear-ended her? For an airbag that saved her life but took that of her child?"

"Good afternoon, can I help you?" The flower shop clerk's approach startled her. "Sorry," said the clerk, Jenny, "I just didn't want you to think I was ignoring you."

"I.... I need an arrangement."

"For Thanksgiving?"

Sandra nodded.

"Do you want beautiful but ordinary, or would you like to challenge the day with a customer favorite I call the Thanksgiving Special." Jenny saw Sandra's curiosity and continued. "I'm convinced that flowers tell stories, that each arrangement insinuates a particular feeling. Are you looking for something that conveys gratitude this Thanksgiving?"

"Not exactly!" Sandra blurted. "Sorry, but in the last five months, everything that could go wrong has." Sandra regretted her outburst but was surprised when Jenny said, "I have the perfect arrangement for you." The door's small bell suddenly rang.

"Barbara! Hi," Jenny said. She politely excused herself from Sandra and walked toward a small workroom. She quickly reappeared carrying a massive arrangement of greenery, bows, and long-stemmed thorny roses. Only, the ends of the rose stems were neatly snipped, no flowers. "Want this in a box?" Jenny asked.

Sandra watched for Barbara's response. Was this a joke? Who would want rose stems and no flowers! She waited for laughter, for someone to notice the absence of flowers atop the thorny stems, but neither woman did.

"Yes, please. It's exquisite," said Barbara. "You'd think after three years of getting the special, I'd not be so moved by its significance, but it's happening again. My family will love this one. Thanks." Sandra stared. "Why so normal a conversation about so strange an arrangement?" she wondered. "Ah. . ." said Sandra, pointing. "That lady just left with, ah. . ."

"Yes?"

"Well, she had no flowers!"

"Right, I cut off the flowers."

"Off?"

"Off. Yep. That's the Special. I call it the Thanksgiving Thorns Bouquet."

"But, why do people pay for that?" In spite of herself she chuckled.

"Do you really want to know?"

"I couldn't leave this shop without knowing. I'd think about nothing else!"

"That might be good," said Jenny. "Well," she continued, "Barbara came into the shop three years ago feeling very much like you feel today. She thought she had very little to be thankful for. She had lost her father to cancer, the family business was failing, her son was into drugs, and she faced major surgery."

"Ouch!" said Sandra.

"That same year, I lost my husband. I assumed complete responsibility for the shop and for the first time, spent the holidays alone. I had no children, no husband, no family nearby, and too great a debt to allow any travel."

"What did you do?"

"I learned to be thankful for thorns."

Sandra's eyebrows lifted. "Thorns?"

"I'm a Christian, Sandra. I've always thanked God for good things in life and I never thought to ask Him why good things happened to me? But, when bad stuff hit, did I ever ask! It took time to learn that dark times are important. I always enjoyed the 'flowers' of life but it took thorns to show me the beauty of God's comfort. You know, the Bible says that God comforts us when we're afflicted and from His consolation we learn to comfort others."

Sandra gasped. "A friend read that passage to me and I was furious! I guess the truth is I don't want comfort. I've lost a baby and I'm angry with God." She started to ask Jenny to "go on" when the door's bell diverted their attention. "Hey, Phil!" shouted Jenny as a balding, rotund man entered the shop. She softly touched Sandra's arm and moved to welcome him. He tucked her under his arm at his side for a warm hug. "I'm here for twelve thorny long-stemmed stems!" Phil laughed, heartily.

"I figured as much," said Jenny. "I've got them ready." She lifted a tissue-wrapped arrangement from the refrigerated cabinet.

"Beautiful," said Phil. "My wife will love them."

Sandra could not resist asking. "These are for your wife?"

Phil saw that Sandra's curiosity matched his when he first heard of a Thorn Bouquet.

"Do you mind me asking, "Why thorns?"

"In fact, I'm glad you asked," he said. "Four years ago my wife and I nearly divorced. After forty years, we were in a real mess, but we slogged through, problem by rotten problem. We rescued our marriage, our love, really. Last year at Thanksgiving I stopped in here for flowers. I must have mentioned surviving a tough process because Jenny told me that for a long time she kept a vase of rose stems-stems! - as a reminder of what she learned from "thorny" times. That was good enough for me. I took home stems. My wife and I decided to label each one for a specific thorny situation and give thanks for what the problem taught us. I'm pretty sure this stem review is becoming a tradition." Phil paid Jenny, thanked her again and as he left, said to Sandra, "I highly recommend the Special!"

"I don't know if I can be thankful for the thorns in my life," Sandra said to Jenny.

"Well, my experience says that thorns make roses more precious. We treasure God's providential care more during trouble than at any other time. Remember, Sandra, Jesus wore a crown of thorns so that we might know His love. Do not resent thorns."

Tears rolled down Sandra's cheeks. For the first time since the accident she loosened her grip on resentment. "I'll take twelve long-stemmed thorns, please."

"I hoped you would," Jenny said. "I'll have them ready in a minute. Then, every time you see them, remember to appreciate both good and hard times. We grow through both."

"Thank you. What do I owe you?"

"Nothing. Nothing but a pledge to work toward healing your heart. The first year's arrangement is always on me." Jenny handed a card to Sandra. "I'll attach a card like this to your arrangement but maybe you'd like to read it first. Go ahead, read it."

"My God, I have never thanked Thee for my thorn! I have thanked Thee a thousand times for my roses, but never once for my thorn. Teach me the glory of the cross I bear, teach me the value of my thorns. Show me that I have climbed to Thee by the path of pain. Show me that my tears have made my rainbow. -George Matheson"
Jenny said, "Happy Thanksgiving, Sandra," handing her the Special. "I look forward to our knowing each other better."

Sandra smiled. She turned, opened the door, and walked toward hope!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

A Spider Web

A young soldier found himself in a terrible and hopeless battle. The enemy was soundly defeating this young man's army. He and his comrades found themselves hastily retreating from the battle field in defeat, running away in fear for their very lives. The enemy gave chase. This young man ran hard and fast, full of fear and desperation, but soon found himself cut off from his comrades in arms.

He eventually came upon a rocky ledge containing a cave. Knowing the enemy was close behind, and that he was exhausted from the chase, he chose to hide there. After he crawled into the cave, he fell to his face in the darkness, desperately crying to God to save him and protect him from his enemies. He also made a bargain with God, one which I (and perhaps you too?) have made before. He promised that if God saved him, he would serve Him for the remainder of his days.

When he looked up from his despairing plea for help, he saw a spider beginning to weave its web at the entrance of the cave. As he watched the delicate threads being slowly drawn across the mouth of the cave, the young soldier pondered its irony. He thought, "I asked God for protection and deliverance, and he sent me a spider instead. How can a spider save me?"

His heart was hardened, knowing the enemy would soon discover his hiding place and kill him. And soon he did hear the sound of his enemies, who were now scouring the area looking for those in hiding. One soldier with a gun slowly walked up to the cave's entrance. As the young man crouched in the darkness, hoping to surprise the enemy in a last-minute desperate attempt to save his own life, he felt his heart pounding wildly out of control.

As the enemy cautiously moved forward to enter the cave, he came upon the spider's web, which by now was completely strung across the opening. He backed away and called out to a comrade, "There can't be anyone in here. They would have had to break this spider's web to enter the cave. Let's move on."

Years later, this young man, who made good his promise by becoming a preacher and evangelist, wrote about that ordeal. What he observed has stood by me in times of trouble, especially during those times when everything seemed impossible.

He wrote: "Where God is, a spider's web is as a stone wall. Where God is not, a stone wall is as a spider's web."

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

The Bag Lady & Thanksgiving Dinner

It was very cold and a light snow was falling as young Jimmy Dorche piloted his Ford Escort down the street toward the city park. Snow on Thanksgiving was a rarity in this part of the country and it caused almost as much excitement as the traditional turkey dinner, the traditional afternoon of football, or the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade on television. But none of these things were on 17-year-old Jimmy's mind at the moment as he carefully maneuvered his car over the blacktop. He had his own tradition to tend to and what he was looking for he would probably find in the deserted park.

Usually bustling with activity, even on cold days, the park was practically empty now. Everyone was home with friends and family enjoying their Thanksgiving turkey. Jimmy was tempted to have a bit more dinner himself, but his second helping sat on the car seat beside him along with a big hunk of Mom's homemade pumpkin pie and a Thermos bottle of hot coffee. Jimmy wouldn't succumb to temptation and eat more today.

For the past two years, Jimmy had established a tradition for himself. He had never suffered a hungry day in his life. The son of an unwed teenaged mother, he was given up for adoption as an infant and was taken in by a Christian family. When he was fifteen, to honor his Lord as well as his parents, he decided to take his second helping of Thanksgiving dinner to the park to share with a homeless man or woman.

His first year, he had found a man who had been on his own since he was thirteen. In the summer he worked odd jobs, but in winter he lived at the local rescue mission where he earned an occasional dollar by cleaning up the place. The second year, he shared his Thanksgiving dinner with an elderly man whose wife had died long before and his children had moved to another city. They never contacted their father nor offered to help him in any way. "I reckon they're ashamed of me," the rheumy old man had said.

Throughout the year, Jimmy often thought about the two men. He had gone to the mission to try to find them, but they were gone without a trace. Now Jimmy wondered who he would meet this Thanksgiving.

As soon as he arrived at the park, he saw a ragged woman sitting hunched over on the bench of one of the heavy concrete picnic tables provided by the city. She wore an old battered red coat and a dark wool cap over her matted, graying hair. Close beside her was the tattered bag that carried all her worldly possessions.

Jimmy pulled the car into a parking place and got out. He took the covered dishes and the Thermos bottle from the front seat and began walking toward the bag lady. When he stood in front of her, she jumped as if she had suddenly been awakened from dozing. She looked up at Jimmy. Suddenly her eyes brightened and she started to speak but, instead, she lowered her head and stared at the frozen ground.

"God bless you, ma'am," Jimmy said, smiling. "I have brought you some Thanksgiving dinner. Would you do me the honor of sharing it with me."

The woman looked at the food. She was very hungry -- she hadn't eaten since last night's dinner at the mission. She nodded and Jimmy served her food, uncovered the plates, put a napkin and silverware on the cold concrete picnic table, and poured her a streaming cup of coffee from the Thermos. Then he watched her as she ate. Although it was very cold in the park, he felt warm inside. The God of love was clearly at work within him. He loved his tradition and he intended to continue it -- and more -- for the rest of his life.

When the woman had finished, he cleared the table and put the dishes into a pile. He poured another cup of coffee into her Styrofoam cup and closed the Thermos. Then he reached into his wallet and pulled out a twenty dollar bill. He thrust the money into her gnarled hand. Then he reached over and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"May God richly bless you, ma'am," he said softly. "And thank you for giving me the honor of sharing my Thanksgiving dinner with you." With that, Jimmy picked up his dishes and returned to the car.

She had stayed in the city purposely to see him grow, but remained carefully in the background and out of sight so she would not embarrass him or cause him pain. Her own life was a shambles -- time spent in state mental hospitals and, at other times, living on the streets. But she had seen him grow into manhood and was very proud of his many accomplishments. Today, she had longed to tell him who she was, but could not bring herself to do it. Instead she thanked God that He had so richly blessed her today, in spite of her trials.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She had seen her son on Thanksgiving and he had loved his mother.

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I'm unsure if this is a real story or otherwise, but I guess it is a heartwarming tale as it is...

Children Live What They Learn

In view of my previous post, I'd like to share the poem by Dorothy Law Nolte in full;

If children live with criticism, they learn to condemn.
If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.
If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.
If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.
If children live with ridicule, they learn to feel shy.
If children live with jealousy, they learn to feel envy.
If children live with shame, they learn to feel guilty.
If children live with encouragement, they learn confidence.
If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.
If children live with praise, they learn appreciation.
If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.
If children live with approval, they learn to like themselves.
If children live with recognition, they learn it is good to have a goal.
If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.
If children live with honesty, they learn truthfulness.
If children live with fairness, they learn justice.
If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.
If children live with security, they learn to have faith in themselves and in those about them.
If children live with friendliness, they learn the world is a nice place in which to live.

What The Children See Through Their Eyes...

A controversy (if you want to call it that) broke out recently and was exposed by The Sun here in Malaysia. I believe the article reproduced below would be self explanatory. It was written by the editor of the special and investigative reporting desk of the daily, R. Nadeswaran or more popularly known as Citizen Nades.

Don’t poison children’s minds

REGULARS of this column would have remembered the number of times this writer has reiterated that he would not write on race, religion or politics. The reason for this was simple – I have always believed in one race – the Malaysian race long before 1Malaysia, and that religion is a personal thing and that none has the right to advocate one is better than the other. As for politics and the dirt it brings out, the least said, the better. Yes, I mix with politicians from both sides of the divide (some of them have become good friends) but except for the general elections when all hands are on deck for a small crew like ours, the intra and inter-party bickering, the name calling, accusations and the lies that are perpetrated become unpalatable.

I am making an exception, nearly eight years after my self-imposed gag-order. I am doing it reluctantly after seeing how children at the age of 12, are being compelled to see themselves being segregated by race and religion. It sad that almost every issue is seen through the eyes of race or religion. Even scholarships for good students who excel academically are transformed by certain parties into “you got more than me” games. What is more pathetic is the one-upmanship practised by a few and the many who wait on the sidelines to score cheap political points. And yet, we go around talking about integration, unity and the like, and not practising what we are preaching.

There’s religious education and there’s the learning of one’s mother tongue or what they called “pupil’s own language” in our days in school. On Friday, I took a trip to my alma mater after more than 40 years (I used to go for its sports day or play cricket but these were limited to the school field). While waiting to meet the principal of the Klang High School, I couldn’t help but read the notices on the board. One involved the enrolment in what has now become a co-educational school. It gave the breakdown of the enrolment of each class by gender and race. The statistics made interesting reading and we will save it for another day.

The visit was prompted by complaints from parents that the “headmistress has dissolved all non-Muslim religious societies” in the school, which I later found out, was not true. The decision was not made by the headmistress – it was made by the Selangor Education Department.

Since the headmistress was not around, she asked one Mrs Chen, the teacher in charge of co-curriculum, to address the issue. She had a chat with me. “I am new. I only came in February. When I took over the guru besar asked me to check if all the clubs and societies in the school have been approved by the department. I went through the files and there were no approvals. So, I was asked to write to check if they had been approved.”

She wrote in March and last week, a note came from the department – the Kelab Agama Hindu, Kelab Agama Buddha and the Christian Union have to be dissolved immediately. An announcement to this effect was made at the school assembly last week.

But hadn’t these societies existed in the school for years? No one raised an issue; no one objected to their existence and as usual, students were allowed to take part in them. Were they previously in existence illegally and students who had participated in them could be considered past members of “secret societies”? It is merely an administrative decision to legalise (for the lack of a better word) these clubs. Couldn’t the school be told to make a fresh application for approval pending which activities can continue? How come they have to be dissolved while similar clubs in other schools can continue to exist?

As many students are members of these societies and as co-curricular activities form part of the grading for the Sijil Pelajaran Malaysia examinations, it is causing concern. With three months to go before their exams, why are students put under such pressure? Do they now have to scramble to be members of other societies?

My umbrage is on two issues – don’t mess with our children’s education and don’t inculcate differentiation or classification to children based on religion. They will start viewing things from a racial and religious perspective. Once these are ingrained in their minds, no amount of program muhibbah or kursus toleransi is going to help. For the sake of the future of this nation, stop messing around with our children – the leaders of the future.

R. NADESWARAN'S “homecoming” was somewhat sombre seeing and hearing the deterioration of standards at the Klang High School which gave him a foundation in education, sports and leadership. Comments: citizen-nades@thesundaily.com

This article was published on 12th July and can be viewed at : http://www.sun2surf.com/article.cfm?id=49263

In an immediate response, a reader responded today with this letter:

Let mutual respect rule the day

If children live with hostility, they learn to fight.

If children live with fear, they learn to be apprehensive.

If children live with pity, they learn to feel sorry for themselves.

If children live with tolerance, they learn patience.

If children live with acceptance, they learn to love.

If children live with sharing, they learn generosity.

If children live with kindness and consideration, they learn respect.

- excerpt from Children Learn What They Live by Dorothy Law Nolte

Teach them that it’s not wrong to discriminate on the grounds of racial and religious difference and you’ve got yourself a new batch of racists and religious fundamentalists.

With reference to “Don’t poison children’s minds” (Citizen Nades, July 12) I cannot for the life of me see how the students in Klang High School will be better off with the dissolution of the Kelab Agama Buddha, Kelab Agama Hindu and Christian Union. And the grounds for dismissal? The clubs were never given approval in the first place.

That means that for all the years that the clubs were in existence, they had operated “illegally” as they were not given the permission to exist by the Education Department. Doing some sleuthing work on the Net, I found that the Christian Union of the school had been in existence as far back as 1969.

With the public furore caused by this exposure, I’m almost certain that the Education Department will do one of two things or maybe even both. The first would be to justify its decision with a myriad of reasons which would range from regulating clubs to ensuring no subversive teachings in the club. What lies in between the two reasons is limited only by your imagination. The second would be a retraction of the earlier directive and full reinstatement of the clubs. A variation to this action would be a temporary reinstatement while the school went about applying for approval.

I wonder if these guidelines on clubs in schools requiring approval from the State Education Department is new or is it some “syok sendiri” initiative by some pompous ignorant officer in the department.

I recall in the mid 90s when I was still in secondary school. My batch had a number of good ideas on clubs that would serve the students well. After seeking advice from the teachers, the students were asked to draw up a working plan on the clubs they were keen to start. Within days of these plans being submitted to the school’s authorities, the clubs were born. And I was reliably informed that all three clubs that were formed then are still in existence today and are booming.

Do the powers that be in the Education Departments have so much free time on hands that they are taking it upon themselves to personally approve formation of clubs in the schools under their purview. For whatever reasons they give to justify their actions, are they going to monitor the clubs to ensure that the clubs adhere to guidelines drawn by the departments? I am assuming of course that there are guidelines.

The tenets of the Education Department should go somewhere along the lines of ensuring that the leaders of tomorrow are ingrained with good values to set them up for life. I just can’t understand how this can be achieved by telling our young that discrimination on the basis of one’s religion is not wrong?

The building blocks of a great nation are the children. We are just borrowing the country today from our children. Let’s not return it to them in a state far worse then when our forefathers returned it to us. Let common sense and mutual respect rule the day.

This response can be viewed at :
http://www.sun2surf.com/article.cfm?id=49320

<<< . >>>

At the end of the day, I do wonder if those who are entrusted with the education of the children are screened upfront for bigotry, racism and the likes. A perfect example of "showing exemplary initiative" while discharging one's duties as a public servant.

If this is a reflection of the Islam Hadhari that was propagated by the previous PM and by extension, of 1Malaysia that seem to be the "in" catchphrase of the day, I shudder at the future that lies beyond us. I can imagine one where those who do not profess the official religion of the federation be subjected to all kinds of measures to "regulate" them.

If you posed me the same question say 2-3 years back, I'd probably dismiss it out of hand without even blinking. Today however, I don't think it's beyond "Malaysia Boleh" that some time somewhere the horizon yonder we'd be required by law to visit "Jabatan Perlesenan Agama" (literally translated as Religions Licensing Department) to renew our yearly practicing license. Failure to do so would be to practice your religion without license which is thus an illegal act and punishable by the law? Too far fetched? Visit your friendly neighbourhood (illegal) bookie and he/she may give you good odds for that.

Ironically of course, the actions of the Selangor Education Department can be described as a violation of there country's constitution which clearly stated that Malaysians are accorded the freedom to practice the religion of their choice. It does make a good workout for the brain cells if we try to justify how certain quarters are blatantly using the Constitution to fight for their (perceived) rights and at the same time denying others of theirs (which is ironically also covered by the constitution).

I do wonder what goes on in that brain of theirs? Are they so thick up there that they fail to remember the essence of education? Don't they know that what children pick up from their growing up years would be the foundations of the kind of life they would lead and the type of person they would be?

Where the fault lies over this matter is anybody's guess. Somehow, I'm in the opinion that there are hidden hands behind all of this. It wouldn't be a surprise if those behind these decisions are doing so at the bidding of their political masters.

I recalled a few months back as I greeted the coming of the new year with a Thanksgiving Service in an Ipoh church. The priest in his homily (sermon) said that we were celebrating the new year with a bit of good news. That the court had ruled earlier (on Dec 31st) that the word "Allah" was not exclusive to the Muslims in the country thus allowing the church and all other religions to use it in their printed materials as well as in worship.

The priest though cautioned the congregation to not be too euphoric over this victory. He warned that the battle had just started and is a long way from reaching it's conclusion. Like a charm, true to his words the church arson occurred a short while later. The aftermath of the landmark ruling would probably rank as one of the darkest days in the history of the country alongside the May 13th tragedy.

As sure as the sun would rise again, the political animals immediately joined in the fracas to gain political mileage from the malaise. And it came to no surprise that opinions were divided like the Red Sea which Abraham parted. Inter and intra party disagreement were the order of the day. Demonstrations were organized. Protests were voiced. Memorandum drafted and handed to show displeasure at something or another over the matter. As a result of all the hoo-haa, an appeal was filed on behalf of the government and the matter is still pending.

Religion is a funny little thing you know. It can make brothers take up arms against one another. It can bring out the best (or the worst) in a person. It can also move mountains. Little wonder then how many people are justifying their actions on the basis of the faith that they profess. I wonder if God is as vengeful as He is made out to be judging by some ofter carnage that was given a divine stamp of approval...

Society at large will have to take a step back and reflect on what is happening around them today. Faith is something that is personal and I am a firm believer that it cannot be forced and rammed down one's throat. But then again, perhaps the masses or the political/religious leaders know better than me...

What I'm saying is that if we expect others to respect us, then we should accord the same respect to them as well. Respect is a two way street, like it or not. And I'm certain that when we abuse whatever earthly powers that are conferred on us by mere mortals, the Almighty cannot be pleased with us.

Isn't it sad that the Tourism Ministry is harping on the diversity of the races and religions in the country overseas but we see all this happening in front of our very eyes. Malaysians - politicians or the man on the street, will have to get it into their thick heads of theirs that our diversity is something to be cherished and embraced. Unfortunately, the Education Department which falls directly under the purview of the Deputy Prime Minister no less, shot itself in the foot... Or perhaps in the spirit of the just concluded World Cup, scored an own goal in the semi-finals...

All's not lost as there's still time on the clock to claw their way back into the game. Make amends and fight to win the match to qualify for the championship match? The first step would be to make a sincere apology and take firm steps to put things right. Flip flopping on the issue would be of no benefit to anyone...

A point worth thinking about? Go ahead, put your grey cells to use...

Monday, July 12, 2010

Bound To Forgive

Writer Norman Cousins said that life is an adventure in forgiveness. I think Fr. Lawrence Martin Jenco would agree.

In 1984, Fr. Jenco traveled to Beirut, dedicated to help the poorest of the poor. On January 8, 1985, he was kidnapped by Shiite Muslim extremists and held hostage for 564 days. He endured imprisonment, beatings, illness and heartbreaking periods of sorrow and loneliness. Several years after his release, he wrote a book (BOUND TO FORGIVE, Ave Maria Press, 1995) about his experiences in captivity and, more importantly, about the power of love and forgiveness.

Fr. Jenco tells about being taped like a mummy from his ankles to the top of his head each time he was transported from one place to another. He described being forced to breathe only from his nose as his mouth was stuffed with a cloth and taped shut.

He tells of times when his captors said they were going to kill him and he waited for the bullet to go through his head. Other times he was dressed up and told he was going home, only to have his spirits dashed when he was later informed they were teasing.

He remembers being chained hand and foot, donning a plastic bag on his head, and left in a two-foot by six-foot closet. And he remembers his stench when he was denied washing for over four months.

He was later asked what lesson those of us who haven't been in such a position can learn from his experience and apply to our daily living. He said, "Just look at the madness that goes on in the world today. We lug our hates and our bigotry and prejudices from generation to generation and we pass [them] on.... We [must] stop and look at each other and say, 'I am so sorry for the hurt I caused you. I ask your forgiveness.' And then [we must] extend forgiveness and... receive forgiveness. Somewhere along the line we are going to have to do that. We're all bound to forgive."

Fr. Jenco has forgiven and can attest to the power of forgiveness. And though our hurt may not be the same as his, it is no less real. We, too, are "bound" to forgive. For when we covenant with life to earnestly forgive whatever hurts come our way, we see amazing results. We find inner peace and, often, improved physical health as well. As Dr. O. A. Battista says, "One of the most lasting pleasures you can experience is the feeling that comes over you when you genuinely forgive an enemy -- whether he knows it or not."

I've come to realize that genuine forgiveness is crucial if any of us will find peace. Whether or not it restores a broken relationship, it sets our own hearts free. Those who will be bound by the promise to sincerely forgive, will be freed from the bonds of the past. Those are Fr. Jenco's words: "We're all bound to forgive." And those who are bound to forgive are bound to be happy.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

The Fern And The Bamboo

One day I decided to quit...I quit my job, my relationship, my spirituality.... I wanted to quit my life. I went to the woods to have one last talk with God.

"God", I said. "Can you give me one good reason not to quit?"

His answer surprised me.

"Look around", He said. "Do you see the fern and the bamboo?"

"Yes", I replied.

"When I planted the fern and the bamboo seeds, I took very good care of them. I gave them light. I gave them water. The fern quickly grew from the earth. Its brilliant green covered the floor. Yet nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.

In the second year the fern grew more vibrant and plentiful. And again, nothing came from the bamboo seed. But I did not quit on the bamboo.

"In year three there was still nothing from the bamboo seed. But I would not quit. The same in year four.

"Then in the fifth year, a tiny sprout emerged from the earth.

Compared to the fern, it was seemingly small and insignificant.

But just six months later, the bamboo rose to over 100 feet tall.

It had spent the five years growing roots. Those roots made it strong and gave it what it needed to survive. I would not give any of my creations a challenge it could not handle.

"Did you know, my child, that all this time you have been struggling, you have actually been growing roots? I would not quit on the bamboo.. I will never quit on you.

"Don't compare yourself to others." He said. "The bamboo had a different purpose than the fern. Yet they both make the forest beautiful.

"Your time will come", God said to me. "You will rise high"

"How high should I rise?" I asked.

"How high will the bamboo rise?" He asked in return.

"As high as it can?" I questioned

"Yes." He said, "Give me glory by rising as high as you can."

I left the forest, realizing that God will never give up on me. And He will never give up on you.

Never regret a day in your life.

Good days give you happiness; bad days give you experiences; both are essential to life.

Passion Or Love?

This particular post of mine was prompted by a message I received earlier this morning from a cousin who had a liking for the most unbelievably complex and crazy questions out of the blue. His text read like this, “What's the difference between love and passion?”

I have to admit that it wouldn't be easy to answer the question. So perhaps before I can get down to enunciating what I think about it personally, it would be wise of me to see what my religion says about it.

The best point of reference from the Bible would probably come from Paul (not the football results predicting octopus) in his 1^st letter to the Corinthians.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres." (1 Cor 13:4-7)

St Thomas Aquinas probably gave it the best summary when he said that love was to will good of another, irregardless friend or foe. He went on to explain that the love that we Christians should profess is one that is motivated by the need to see others do well in life.

I had the opportunity to read “The Four Loves” from C.S. Lewis (yes the one who wrote about Narnia) some time back where he explored the nature of love that a human can profess. Through his research and observation, he came upon the conclusion that the love is an extremely complex and complicated thing.

And he thus formulates a basis for love by dividing love into four different categories which he identified through their Greek words. The first being the less popular Affection (storge) which he described as the most basic of love. One that is usually shared between family members or between friends.

It was described as natural as the feeling of fondness presents itself without being forced. It is normally present due to familiarity. It is normally also dismissed out of hand as it is considered to be almost worthless due to the fact that the valuable characteristics that would normally make one worthy of love is normally absent.

As a result of this characteristic, such a relationship is able to transcend the most discriminating of factors, e.g. human weakness, physical or otherwise. The irony of the this is that the strength of this category of love also makes it weak. According to Lewis, the feeling comes almost ready made and as such is expected irregardless of the behavior or actions of those concerned.

Then Lewis was in the opinion that the next category of love is Friendship (Phileo) which is a strong bond existing between individuals who share a common interest or activity. This definition of friendship however is not similar to that of companionship which he went on to explore in the remaining two categories.

The 3^rd category of love according to Lewis is Eros. In a nutshell, he described it as love in the sense of 'being in love'. Technically it means “Intimate Love”. Of course in Greek mythology, Eros was the God of love and beauty. I'm no language nor literary expert but I believed that he was trying to put forth the point that this category of love was more physical in nature. It was one that is fueled on the sexual emotions that one get from physical or emotional attraction. Then again I may be wrong.

And the final category of love is Charity (Agape). It is also known as unconditional love. Love that knows no bounds. One that I personally believe is a reflection of Paul's ode about love in his letter to the Corinthians.

That is the take from the eyes of the religion as well as from that of a celebrated writer whose work was read by yours truly. You'll need to read the book to come to your own conclusions over that matter.

Anyway, now we move on to my personal point of view over this matter. I guess we need to dissect and look at the two main words, that is “passion” and “love”. Since I had covered on “love” rather extensively as an introduction, it's probably proper that I look at the word “passion” instead now.

What actually is this animal called passion? Is it just lust getting out of hand? Inconceivable care that we shower upon another? Boundless excitement and enthusiasm? Some unexplainable deep deep intense emotions and feelings inside?

IMHO, a whole lot of people in this world would confuse passion for love... I believe that those most susceptible to this would be those who are young and/or inexperienced in a relationship. The raging hormones inside definitely play a role in all that.

That feeling of euphoria that you feel inside whenever that special someone is around. The strong emotion you feel as you can't get him/her out of your mind. The sense that everything you see or hear around you reminds you of that someone. That attraction that two person have toward each other which is pulling them closer. Unfortunately, all these feelings may appear synonymous with love.

They say then when the “three year mark” is reached, the passion dies down and the relationship hits a plateau... That is probably a true test of true love... Would we still feel the same way or would we be suffocated by the relationship? Some had refused to let go and live in denial simply because they are afraid of change... Afraid of letting go what they have in case they can't find another...

I think that love is all about sacrifice. It is when that special someone's happiness is more important than your own. I think that unconditional love is the way your mom would give up her life for yours without thinking twice. Love is the when you give up what you want to put see the smile on your loved one's face. Love is also evident when that someone is hurting, your heart hurts even more to see your loved one in some much pain.

Love is when you disregard your own wants for what she wants. It's when you watch “Sex In The City” when you really want to watch “Transformers”. It's when you surprise her with a bunch of flowers for no reason at all. It's love when you set aside your weariness and prepare her a home cooked dinner while she soaks away blissfully in the bath tube.

And when that someone cry, you forget about yourself and you know exactly how they feel inside. And you would do and give anything at all, even to the extent of your life, to make them happy again and to protect them from all the troubles that would cause them hurt and pain.

Love is when you don't care what others say about you as long as you're that someone happy... You can be ridiculed, insulted, spat upon but it matter not what others think. What that someone thinks of you is all that matters. Being in love, I never feel like I have to hurry anywhere... I'm just happy to be with her...

Love is being strong for her even when faced with our innermost fears and demons. Love is the reserve from which strength is derived to face the blowing winds and the raging storms of life. Love is when having her hold your hands as you take the a step in that blinding darkness or down that plunging cliff.

Love is also knowing when to let go, despite all the reservations inside. Letting go in the hope that it's the best thing that could come out of a difficult and seemingly hopeless situation. Love is giving and continuing to give, with no expectations at all of any reward or favor from the recipient.

To have unconditional love be reciprocated is the best thing that could happen to some one. True love is worth every risk that you take in giving it to that special someone. I do believe that true love is worth the pain, even when you inflict in on yourself or when it's caused by the one you love. I hope that I deserve the best, but I know that that is not always possible. But all that matters to me is that she should get the best. True love will not always be a bed of roses. It will hurt sometime somewhere along the way.

Now, is that uncontrollable feeling you feel inside passion or love? Only you can answer. What is your take on it?