Author Unknown
Footprints
One night a man had a dream. He dreamed he was walking along the beach with the LORD. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand; one belonged to him, and the other to the LORD.
When the last scene of his life flashed before him, he looked back at the footprints in the sand. He noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. He also noticed that it happened at the very lowest and saddest times in his life.
This really bothered him and he questioned the LORD about it. "LORD, you said that once I decided to follow you, you'd walk with me, all the way. But I have noticed that during the most troublesome times in my life, there is only one set of footprints. I don't understand why when I need you the most you would leave me."
The LORD replied, "My precious, precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."
Author Unknown
The Difference
I got up early one morning
and rushed right into the day;
I had so much to accomplish
that I didn't have time to pray.
Problems just tumbled about me
and heavier came each task.
"Why doesn't GOD help me?" I wondered.
HE answered, "You didn't ask."
I wanted to see joy and beauty,
but the day toiled on, grey and bleak.
I wondered why GOD didn't show me,
He said, "But you didn't seek."
I tried to come into GOD'S presence;
I used all my keys at the lock.
GOD gently and lovingly chided,
"My child, you didn't knock."
I woke up early this morning,
and paused before entering the day;
I had so much to accomplish
that I had to take time to pray.
Author Unknown
Not a Thing to do!
She cooked the breakfast first of all,
Washed the cups and plates,
Dressed the children and made sure
The socks were all in mates.
Combed their heads and made their beds,
Sent them out to play.
Gathered up their motley toys,
And put some books away.
Dusted chairs and mopped the stairs,
Ironed an hour or two,
Baked a jar of cookies and a pie,
Then made a stew.
The telephone rang constantly,
The doorbell did the same.
A youngster fell and stubbed his toe,
And then the laundry came,
She picked up blocks and mended socks,
Then cleaned and shined the stove.
(Gypsy folks were fortunate
With carefree ways to rove!)
And when her husband came at six
He said: "I envy you!
It must be nice to sit at home
Without a thing to do!"
Salvation Army publication
He'll See Them Home!
Don't despair so of your children,
God will bring them to the fold -
Because He died to save them,
They're special to the Lord.
He knows how much you love them,
He loves them even more.
As long as you hold on in prayer,
He'll not close the door.
Even now He sees your tears,
And He whispers tenderly,
Of love that conquered all-
That all men might be free.
So lay them at His altar,
Let go and leave them there-
God will be faithful to your trust,
He won't withhold His care.
His hand will ever nurture,
No matter where they roam-
And He won't be satisfied
'Til He sees them safely home!
Joyce Henning
I Asked God
I asked God to take away my pain. 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.
Her spirit was whole, her body was only temporary.
I asked God to grant me patience. God said, No.
Patience is a by-product of tribulations, it isn't granted, it is earned.
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 for all things that I might enjoy life. God said, No.
I will give you life so that you may enjoy all things.
I asked God to help me LOVE others, as much as he loves me.
God said...Ahhhh, finally you have the idea.
A Living Bible
His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans and no shoes. This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college. He is brilliant. Kind of esoteric and very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college.
Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students, but are not sure how to go about it.
One day Bill decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat. The church is completely packed and he can't find a seat.
By now people are really looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit and, when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet. (Although perfectly acceptable behavior at a college fellowship, trust me, this had never happened in this church before!)
By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick. About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill. Now the deacon is in his eighties, has silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly.
He walks with a cane and, as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do. How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor?
It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy. The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's cane. All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear anyone breathing. The minister can't even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do.
And now they see this elderly man drop his cane on the floor. With great difficulty he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill and worships with him so he won't be alone.
Everyone chokes up with emotion. When the minister gains control, he says, "What I'm about to preach, you will never remember. What you have just seen, you will never forget. Be careful how you live. You may be the only Bible some people will ever read."
You Are My Sunshine!
Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help her 3-year-old son, Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby was going to be a girl, and day after day, night after night, Michael sang to his sister in Mommy's tummy. He was building a bond of love with his little sister before he even met her.
The pregnancy progressed normally for Karen, an active member of the Panther Creek United Methodist Church in Morristown, Tennessee. In time, the labor pains came. Soon it was every five minutes ..every three....every minute. But serious complications arose during delivery and Karen found herself in hours of labor. Would a C-section be required?
Finally, after a long struggle, Michael's little sister was born. But she was in very serious condition. With a siren howling in the night, the ambulance rushed the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's Hospital, Knoxville, Tennessee. The days inched by. The little girl got worse. The pediatrician had to tell the parents, "There is very little hope. Be prepared for the worst."
Karen and her husband contacted a local cemetery about a burial plot. They had fixed up a special room in their house for their new baby but now they found themselves having to plan for a funeral.
Michael, however, kept begging his parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her," he kept saying. Week two in intensive care looked as if a funeral would come before the week was over. Michael kept nagging about singing to his sister, but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care. Karen made up her mind, though. She would take Michael whether they liked it or not! If he didn't see his sister right then, he may never see her alive.
She dressed him in an oversized scrub suit and marched him into ICU. He looked like a walking laundry basket. But the head nurse recognized him as a child and bellowed, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed." The mother rose up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glared steel-eyed right into the head nurse's face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"
Karen towed Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazed at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. After a moment, he began to sing. In the pure-hearted voice of a 3-year-old, Michael sang: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy when skies are gray ---" Instantly the baby girl seemed to respond. The pulse rate began to calm down and become steady. "Keep on singing, Michael," encouraged Karen with tears in her eyes.
"You never know, dear, how much I love you, Please don't take my sunshine away-". As Michael sang to his sister, the baby's ragged, strained breathing became as smooth as a kitten's purr. "Keep on singing, sweetheart!!! "The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms..." Michael's little sister began to relax as rest, healing rest, seemed to sweep over her.
"Keep on singing, Michael." Tears had now conquered the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glowed. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't, take my sunshine away..." The next day...the very next day...the little girl was well enough to go home! Woman's Day Magazine called it "The Miracle of a Brother's Song." The medical staff just called it a miracle.
Karen called it a miracle of God's love!
NEVER GIVE UP ON THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. LOVE IS SO INCREDIBLY POWERFUL. Life is good. We each have a song to sing.......It is important that we keep singing it.
You are Valuable
A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill. In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first, let me do this."
He proceeded to crumple the dollar bill up. He then asked, "Who still wants it?" Still the hands were up in the air. "Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked it up, now all crumpled and dirty.
"Now who still wants it?" Still the hands went into the air. "My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson.
No matter what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20. Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless. But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value in God's eyes. To Him, dirty or clean, crumpled or finely creased, you are still priceless to Him.
Psalm 17:8 states that God will keep us, "as the apple of His eye."
THOUGHT: The worth of our lives comes not in what we do or who we are but by WHOSE WE ARE! You are special.
SHMILY
My grandparents were married for over half a century, and played their own special game from the time they had met each other. The goal of their game was to write the word "shmily" in a surprise place for the other to find. They took turns leaving "shmily" around the house, and as soon as one of them discovered it, it was their turn to hide it once more. They dragged "shmily" with their fingers through the sugar and flour containers to await whoever was preparing the next meal. They smeared it in the dew on the windows overlooking the patio where my grandma always fed us warm, homemade pudding with blue food coloring. "Shmily" was written in the steam left on the mirror after a hot shower, where it would reappear bath after bath. At one point, my grandmother even unrolled an entire roll of toilet paper to leave "shmily" on the very last sheet.
There was no end to the places "shmily" would pop up. Little notes with "shmily" scribbled hurriedly were found on dashboards and car seats,or taped to steering wheels. The notes were stuffed inside shoes and left under pillows. "Shmily" was written in the dust upon
the mantel and traced in the ashes of the fireplace. This mysterious word was as much a part of my grandparents' house as the furniture.
It took me a long time before I was able to fully appreciate my grandparents' game. Skepticism has kept me from believing in true love-one that is pure and enduring. However, I never doubted my grandparents'relationship. They had love down pat. It was more than their flirtatious little games; it was a way of life. Their relationship was based on a devotion and passionate affection which not everyone is lucky experience. Grandma and Grandpa held hands
every chance they could. They stole kisses as they bumped into each other in their tiny kitchen. They finished each other's sentences and shared the daily crossword puzzle and word jumble. My grandma
whispered to me about how cute my grandpa was, how handsome an old he had grown to be. She claimed that she really knew "how to pick em."
Before every meal they bowed their heads and gave thanks, marveling at their blessings: a wonderful family, good fortune, and each other. But there was a dark cloud in my grandparents'life: my grandmother
had breast cancer. The disease had first appeared ten years earlier. As always, Grandpa was with her every step of the way. He comforted her in their yellow room, painted that way so that she could always
be surrounded by sunshine, even when she was too sick to go outside.
Now the cancer was again attacking her body. With the help of a cane and my grandfather's steady hand,they went to church every morning. But my grandmother grew steadily weaker until, finally, she could not leave the house anymore. For a while, Grandpa would go to church alone, praying to God to watch over his wife.
Then one day, what we all dreaded finally happened. Grandma was gone.
"Shmily." It was scrawled in yellow on the pink ribbons of my grandmother's funeral bouquet. As the crowd thinned and the last mourners turned to leave, my aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members came forward and gathered around Grandma one last time. Grandpa stepped up to my grandmother's casket and, taking a shaky breath, he began to sing to her. Through his tears and grief, the song came, a deep and throaty lullaby. Shaking with my own sorrow, I will never forget that moment. For I knew that, although I couldn't begin to fathom the depth of their love,I had been privileged to witness its unmatched beauty.
S-H-M-I-L-Y ~ See How Much I Love You.
Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for letting me see.
A Wife's 23rd Psalm
The house is my master,
I shall not have any spare time,
It makes me retire late each night,
It leads me in the path of a vacuum cleaner,
It restores cobwebs daily.
It guides me through the best cook books
For my husband's sake.
Even though I rise with the sun I cannot escape the mess
It is ever present with me.
I fear no idleness, for it is always there
My broom and my mop, they support me.
It presents lines full of washing in the sight of my neighbours,
It has endowed me with sinks perpetually full,
My ironing basket overflows.
Surely dishes and making lunches shall follow me all the days of my life
And I shall be a worthy housewife forever.
Desiderata
Go placidly amid the noise & the haste,
& remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms
with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly & clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull & ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud & aggressive persons, they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become
vain or bitter;
for always there will be greater & lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery.
But let not this blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of aridity & disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully
surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue & loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees & the stars; you have a
right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the
universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
and what ever your labors & aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery & broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be careful. Strive to be happy.
(1927 by Max Ehrmann. Renewed 1954 by Bertha K. Ehrmann)
