January 31, 2011

Footprints, the alternate version


One night I had a wondrous dream,
One set of footprints there was seen.
The footprints of my precious Lord,
But mine were not along the shore.

But then some stranger prints appeared,
And I asked the Lord, "What have we here?"
"Those prints are large and round and neat,
But Lord, they are too large for feet."

"My child," He said in somber tones,
"For miles I carried you alone.
I challenged you to walk in faith,
But you refused and made me wait."

"You disobeyed, you would not grow,
The walk of faith you would not know,
So I got tired, I got fed up,
And there I dropped you on your butt."

"Because in life, there comes a time,
When one must fight, and one must climb,
When one must rise and take a stand,
Or leave their butt prints in the sand."
- Author unknown
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January 30, 2011

Still snowing!



I just got off the phone with a friend living in North Dakota near the Canadian border. He said that since early this morning the snow has been nearly waist high and is still falling. The temperature is dropping way below zero and the north wind is increasing to near gale force. His wife has done nothing but look through the kitchen window and just stare.

He says that if it gets much worse, he may have to let her in.
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A 3rd grader's concept of grandparents


Written by a third grader, on what his grandparents do.

After Christmas, a teacher asked her young pupils how they spent their holiday away from school. One child wrote the following:

We always used to spend the holidays with Grandma and Grandpa. They used to live in a big brick house, but Grandpa got retarded and they moved to Arizona . Now they live in a tin box and have rocks painted green to look like grass. They ride around on their bicycles, and wear name tags, because they don't know who they are anymore.

They go to a building called a wreck centre, but they must have got it fixed because it is all okay now, they do exercises there, but they don't do them very well. There is a swimming pool too, but they all jump up and down in it with hats on.

At their gate, there is a doll house with a little old man sitting in it. He watches all day so nobody can escape. Sometimes they sneak out, and go cruising in their golf carts.

Nobody there cooks, they just eat out. And, they eat the same thing every night - early birds. Some of the people can't get out past the man in the doll house. The ones who do get out, bring food back to the wrecked centre for pot luck.

My Grandma says that Grandpa worked all his life to earn his retardment and, says I should work hard so I can be retarded someday too. When I earn my retardment, I want to be the man in the doll house. Then I will let people out, so they can visit their grandchildren.
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January 29, 2011

Report about God.



I found this on From Melanie’s Home to Yours. Melanie is a pastor's wife and works at a Christian school run by her church. This is a third-grader's report about God. It's adorable!

Thanks, Melanie! This made my day!

God created the Bible with a little bit of help. He created the world in six days. On the first day of creation God made light. And he called the light day. On the second day of Creatin God made Heven and earth. And so on. God is the king of kings. And the king is God, Because if he was in a contest I would chouse him as the king of kings, And he wold win. If God didn't egxist their would be no wold, or earth as they would call it. God is very important to all. God is afrade of nothing and all of us should be brave like him. if we can't be brave then God will fix us. He is the own that is brave. He is not afrad of a boa, Not even a gerila, Not even a fier, Not even a spider. We will not let God down. AND THAT IS ALL! Thank you.
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Join the weekend wrapup!



I'm asking readers to blog their responses to some (or even all) of these questions, to post their answers on their own site, and to link back to this post.

Here are the questions:
The best thing that happened to me this week was __________________.
The worst thing that happened to me this week was __________________.
The funniest thing I saw/heard/did this week was __________________.
The craziest thing I saw/heard/did this week was __________________.
The thing I was most thankful for this week was __________________.

And here are my answers for this week:
  • The best thing that happened to me this week was going out to dinner with a good friend.
  • The worst thing that happened to me this week was learning that a friend from our church had died this week.
  • The funniest thing I saw/heard/did this week was hmmm… I’m drawing a blank here.
  • The craziest thing I saw/heard/did this week was hearing about the grand piano that wound up on a sandbar in Miami.
  • The thing I was most thankful for this week was my husband. It’s great to be friends with the man you married.
Don't have a blog? Answer in the comment section below - we still want to hear from you!



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January 28, 2011

The greatness of little things


When I was a kid, I would occasionally fantasize about being a hero. Most commonly, I would imagine walking along and noticing a child standing on the tracks while a train bore down on him. I would leap to save him, pushing him off the tracks in the nick of time... but I would be fatally injured in the process. And though I would perish, the memory of my heroism would live on.
I've got to chuckle about the grandiosity of this fantasy now that I have a few more years under my belt. I can't remember the last time I walked along train tracks, and I would quite likely muff any attempt to courageously rescue this fictitious endangered youth. It's doubtful I'll ever have the opportunity to do something so momentous. But I have many opportunities to do little things that will make a big difference without making a big splash.

I can suppress the urge to criticize. I can avoid passing on a juicy story. I can take a bowl of soup to someone who's under the weather. I can visit someone who is lonely. I can give a bit to charity. I can volunteer some time to better my community. I can listen.

These little things, taken collectively, can make more of a difference than one heroic act that I'll never have the opportunity to perform. I believe it was Mother Teresa of Calcutta who advised that we do little things with great love.
The surest way to discover whether we have the love of God is to see whether we love our neighbor, for the two things are never separated. Be sure, too, that the more you perceive yourself to advance in the love of your neighbor, the more you will do so in the love of God… And so we ought to examine ourselves carefully as to the little things that are constantly happening, without making much account of certain high-flown ideas about the great things we mean to say and do for our neighbors, which sometimes come to us in prayer, but which are never put into execution. 
– Teresa of Avila.

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Visit Conversion Diary each Friday for 7 Quick Takes.
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January 27, 2011

A violin with three strings




On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City.

If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight.

He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.

By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap - it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do.

We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again.

The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.

Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to
know that.

You could see him modulating, changing, re-composing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before.

When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.

He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said - not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone - "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life - not just for artists but for all of us.

Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable, than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.

So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.

- Jack Reimer
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Are there benefits to brokenness?



One of the things I sometimes struggle with is the need for approval, the desire to be liked, the urge to "receive credit where credit is due", a reassurance of my own worth. It is at such times that I'm most inclined to attempt to receive for myself the credit due to God. For in truth, I should acknowledge him as the source for anything good that I've had, anything good that I've done.

This need for recognition, acceptance, and approval is nothing but pride, thinly disguised. At those times when I find myself yearning for these things, I'm forgetting the message of Psalm 139: God knew me long before I was born, and knew every sinful thing I would ever do. He could have "thrown up his hands in exasperation" with out creating me, yet he had a purpose for me and loved me despite my flaws. And perhaps it is even because of some of my defects of character that he was able to incorporate me into his plan. For he is able to use foolishness, weakness, and lowliness for good purpose:
Consider your own calling, brothers and sisters.
Not many of you were wise by human standards,
not many were powerful,
not many were of noble birth.
Rather, God chose the foolish of the world to shame the wise,
and God chose the weak of the world to shame the strong,
and God chose the lowly and despised of the world,
those who count for nothing,
to reduce to nothing those who are something,
so that no human being might boast before God.
- 1 Corinthians 1:26-31

God is able to accept and use even the most broken among us - even you, and even me - for his glory.
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January 26, 2011

Trivializing abortion


Many of us read in horror of Dr. Kermit Gosnell, the Pennsylvania abortionist who was recently indicted on multiple counts of murder for using scissors to kill living babies born in his clinic in Philadelphia. To say this is disturbing is to vastly understate my reaction to this story. But there are other disturbing facts revealed by this New York Times article.

According to the Times, the state of Pennsylvania hadn't inspected the clinic for more than 17 years, although the physician who ran the clinic had been sued for malpractice at least 15 times. Two women had died during abortions he performed. Conditions in the clinic were reported to be "squalid". The Times said, "The grand jury report said the clinic had blood on the floor, a stench of urine in the air and cat feces on the stairs when agents raided it." The article goes on to relate additional information that I refuse to allow my fingers to type. Read it for yourself if you'd like; even the most rabid pro-choice reader will be appalled.

As I read about this article, I'm struck again by the way our society trivializes abortion. Here are some examples:
  • We describe those who wish to preserve laws allowing abortion as "pro-choice". "Choice" is a euphemism for "abortion".
  • We try to disguise what is happening by using the term "terminate the pregnancy" rather than "abort". 
  • We use the terms "embryo" or "fetus" to describe an unborn child.
  • We refer to women who undergo abortion as "mothers" although they allow their baby to be killed.
  • We allow minors to undergo abortions without requiring parental consent, although we require it for any other medical procedure.
  • States require nail salons and tattoo parlors to undergo regular inspection for sanitation, yet the state of Pennsylvania neglected to inspect a clinic where abortions are performed.
  • We call the procedure depicted here a "partial birth abortion", rather than calling what it is: last-minute murder.
I submit to you that as long as we trivialize abortion in these and other ways, we allow the line between abortion and murder to be blurred. When scissors are used to kill a baby whose head has not yet emerged from the vaginal canal, we call it a late term or partial birth abortion; when they are used after the baby fully emerges, we call it murder.

It's time to take abortion seriously.
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From the author of "Desiderata"


Max Ehrmann is best known for writing "Desiderata" - a beautiful "prose poem" which you can read here. I ran across this prayer, also attributed to Ehrmann, and hope you, too, will find it meaningful.
Let me do my work each day. And if the darkened hours of despair overcome me, may I not forget the strengths that comforted me in the desolation of other times. May I still remember the bright hours that found me walking over the silent hills of my childhood, or dreaming on the margin of a quiet river, when a light glowed within me, and I promised my early God to have courage amid the tempests of the changing years.

Spare me from bitterness and from the sharp passions of unguarded moments. May I not forget that poverty and riches are of the spirit. Though the world know me not, may my thoughts and actions be such as shall keep me friendly with myself. Lift my eyes from the earth and let me not forget the uses of the stars.

Forbid that I should judge others lest I condemn myself. Let me not follow the clamor of the world, but walk calmly in my path.

Give me a few friends who will love me for what I am; and keep ever burning before my vagrant steps the kindly light of hope. And though age and infirmity overtake me, and I come not within sight of the castle of my dreams, teach me still to be thankful for life and for time's olden memories that are good and sweet. And may the evening's twilight find me gentle still. 

– Max Ehrmann
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January 25, 2011

Simon's cat


Ya gotta love Simon Tofield's cat.


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Cleaning for a Reason

If you know a woman who is currently undergoing chemotherapy, please pass the word that there is a cleaning service that provides FREE housecleaning - once per month for 4 months while she is in treatment. All she has to do is sign up and have her doctor fax a note confirming the treatment. Cleaning for a Reason will have a participating maid service in her zip code area arrange for the service. This organization serves the entire USA and currently has 547 partners to help these women. It's our job to pass the word and let them know that there are people out there that care.

Be a blessing to someone and pass this information along. Go to Cleaning for a Reason for more information

Great information. You may not know someone going through chemo, but someone on your email list might. Please forward!

H/T to God and Estrogen for sharing this information!
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January 24, 2011

Called to be holy


You are called to be holy with all your heart, mind and soul; but if because of weakness you cannot be holy, then at least be good with all your heart, mind, and soul. However if you cannot be good because of overpowering temptations, then at least be wise with all your heart, mind, and soul. But alas if you cannot even be wise because of your sinful nature, then bow deeply before the Lord and beg for his mercy with all your heart, mind, and soul. If you do this with humility and with a confident spirit, you will soon become aware of the tenderness of God’s love for you, and you will become wise and good and holy.

– Attributed to an anonymous medieval author
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January 23, 2011

Flying through the storm

A pastor had been on a long flight between church conferences. The first warning of the approaching problems came when the sign on the airplane flashed on: Fasten Your Seat Belts. Then, after a while, a calm voice said, "We shall not be serving the beverages at this time as we are expecting a little turbulence. Please be sure your seat belt is fastened."

As the pastor looked around the aircraft, it became obvious that many of the passengers were becoming apprehensive. Later, the voice on the intercom said, "We are so sorry that we are unable to serve the meal at this time. The turbulence is still ahead of us."

And then the storm broke.

The ominous cracks of thunder could be heard even above the roar of the engines. Lightning lit up the darkening skies, and within moments that great plane was like a cork tossed around on a celestial ocean. One moment the airplane was lifted on terrific currents of air; the next, it dropped as if it were about to crash.


The pastor confessed that he shared the discomfort and fear of those around him. He said, "As I looked around the plane, I could see that nearly all the passengers were upset and alarmed. Some were praying. The future seemed ominous and many were wondering if they would make it through the storm. Then, I suddenly saw a little girl. Apparently the storm meant nothing to her. She had tucked her feet beneath her as she sat on her seat; she was reading a book and everything within her small world was calm and orderly.

"Sometimes she closed her eyes, then she would read again; then she ould straighten her legs, but worry and fear were not in her world. When the plane was being buffeted by the terrible storm when it lurched this way and that, as it rose and fell with frightening severity, when all the adults were scared half to death, that marvelous child was completely composed and unafraid."

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

There are many kinds of storms that buffet us. Physical, mental, financial, domestic, and many other storms can easily and quickly darken our skies and throw our plane into apparently uncontrollable movement. We have all known such times, and let us be honest and confess, it is much easier to be at rest when our feet are on the ground than when we are being tossed about a darkened sky.

Let us remember: Our Father is the Pilot.




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January 22, 2011

Meme along with me! Join in with the Weekend Wrap-up


I've got an idea for a new meme. I'm asking readers to blog their responses to some (or even all) of these questions, to post their answers on their own site, and to link back to this post.

Here are the questions:
The best thing that happened to me this week was __________________.
The worst thing that happened to me this week was __________________.
The funniest thing I saw/heard/did this week was __________________.
The craziest thing I saw/heard/did this week was __________________.
The thing I was most thankful for this week was __________________.

And here are my answers for this week:
  • The best thing that happened to me this week was coming home after spending nearly a month with my dad, who was in intensive care.
  • The worst thing that happened to me this week was being concerned about someone in a deep depression.
  • The funniest thing I saw/heard/did this week was laughing at this old Johnny Carson clip.
  • The craziest thing I saw/heard/did this week was reading about a lady who created a reproduction of da Vinci's Last Supper using laundry lint. Don't believe me? Read about it here.
  • The thing I was most thankful for this week was knowing that Dad was well enough for me to return home, and being with my husband after a long absence.
Don't have a blog? Answer in the comment section below - we still want to hear from you!



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Some things are hard to explain....





 

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Visit Treasured Moments on Saturdays!
And check out Smiley Saturday, too!


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January 21, 2011

Define "choice", please.

Some 38 years ago, a historic event took place: the Roe v. Wade decision opened the door for legalized abortions in the United States. At the time, I thought this was a victory for women. I described myself as pro-choice. Now, I'm firmly pro-life.

Why the change?

I'd applied for a job as a nurse in a women's oncology (cancer) unit and, as I was about to accept it, the person interviewing me added one last little detail: that sometimes women undergoing late-term abortions would be admitted to that unit and, occasionally, the baby would be born alive. I would be expected to put the baby in a basin and set it in another room while taking care of the "mother".

All of the sudden, I was confronted with what "choice" really means. I refused the job.

Now, decades later, I read of a Philadelphia abortionist who killed babies born alive with scissors to finish the job. That, too, is a gruesome reminder of what "choice" really means.

So I join pro-life bloggers in the 6th annual "Blog For Choice" day and ask:

What do you mean by choice?

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Visit Conversion Diary each Friday for 7 Quick Takes.
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Empty words


But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.
- Matthew 12:36-37

When I read these words, I find myself squirming just a bit. If indeed I will need to face God and "give account for every empty word I've spoken", it would be advisable for me to give serious thought to the words I speak.

I recently read a little story that suggested applying three "tests" to determine whether something should be repeated:

1. Is it true?
2. Is it good?
3. Is it useful?

The story advised not passing on a story that was neither true, nor good, nor useful.

I try to use a similar approach to offering criticism. Although I don't do it consistently enough, I try to ask myself these three questions before criticizing someone:

1. Is it honest?
2. Is it necessary?
3. Is it kind?

Have you got any suggestions for ways to avoid speaking "empty words"?

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Don't forget to visit Conversion Diary each Friday for 7 Quick Takes.
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January 20, 2011

I need your help.

For the past 10 years or so, I've corresponded with a number of inmates. Many folks in prison lack family support (often with good reason), and - particularly when the sentence is long or they're incarcerated far from home - friends often drift away. 

A man who attends our church is imprisoned and awaiting trial following his arrest in May 2010. His sentence is likely to be lengthy. He has had no contact with family or friends. And although I'd never met him, I began writing to him.

As I read his most recent letters, I realize he has become profoundly depressed and self-destructive. Initially he said his faith in God was shaken; now he says it is gone altogether. He misses his family terribly and fears he will never see them again. He has sent me sealed letters for his family "to be opened in case of my death". In his last letter, he told me he plans on "picking fights" with other inmates in hopes that they will kill him.

I have tried to offer him support and encouragement, but I'm at a loss to know what words to say or how to console someone who has lost all hope. And so I ask your help.
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A new use for laundry lint?


According to this AP news article, Laura Bell, a Roscommon, Michigan woman, has created a 14-foot-wide, 4-foot-tall reproduction of Leonardo da Vinci's famous painting, "The Last Supper" .

Out of laundry lint.

She purchased towels of the colors she wanted and laundered them separately to obtain the various hues required. In all, the project required some 1000 hours: 800 hours of laundry and 200 hours of meticulously placing the lint she retrieved on her recreated masterpiece.

And here it is: voila!


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January 19, 2011

If you don't laugh, I'm really worried about you.


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Pardoned too late


More than 70 years ago, a man named Joe Arridy was convicted of being an accomplice to the murder of 15-year-old Dorothy Drain. After the murder, Arridy had been found wandering around in Wyoming. The sheriff learned that Arridy was from Pueblo and questioned him about the murder. Arridy allegedly confessed to the crime. The sheriff never took notes, but later testified that Arridy was able to provide details that substantiated this "confession". This is doubtful, however; Arridy had an IQ of 46, was classified as an "imbecile" by the state of Colorado, and was said to function at the level of a toddler. 

The murder took place in Pueblo, but evidence suggested that Arridy was not in Pueblo when the crime was committed. Another man, Frank Agular, confessed to the crime and maintained until his own execution that Arridy had nothing to do with it.
Nevertheless, 72 years ago, Arridy was led to the gas chamber. He didn't comprehend what was happening. Witnesses say that he continued to smile until his head was covered with a black hood and he was executed for a murder he did not commit.

On January 7, 2011, Governor Bill Ritter of Colorado granted a posthumous pardon to Joe Arridy, the first in Colorado's history. In all, Ritter issued 28 pardons and commutations on that day.
Mary Sue Terry, who served as Attorney General of Virginia from 1986-1994, once replied to an appeal to introduce new evidence from a prisoner sentenced to death with these words: "Evidence of innocence is irrelevant." But is it?

Since 1978, 138 people have been released from death rows across our nation after evidence proved their innocence. Perhaps Thomas Jefferson was right when he said, "I shall ask for the abolition of the punishment of death until I have the infallibility of human judgment demonstrated to me."


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January 18, 2011

British dog's got talent!

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"... as we forgive those who trespass against us"



I ran across a CNA/EWTN news article (which can be read in its entirety here), that tells a wonderful story of forgiveness.

Maria Seiquer Gaya was born in 1891 in Murcia, Spain and married a physician named Angel Romero when she was 23 years old. Maria taught catechism to children from the surrounding area, and once a week her husband provided free medical care to the poor.

During the Spanish Civil War, persecution of Catholics was widespread. Dr. Romero entered public life to defend the Church and, as a result, was subjected to violent attacks. Ultimately, he was imprisoned. While in prison, he told his wife, “They think they are sacrificing us, and they don’t realize that what they are doing is glorifying us.” The couple recognized that Angel would quite likely lose his life. Maria promised that, if she survived, she would dedicate herself to God and enter a convent. A few weeks later, her husband was executed.

After the war ended, Maria and Amalia Martin de la Escalera cofounded the Apostolic Sisters of Christ Crucified. The nuns of this order are professed for the purpose of “loving, forgiving, showing compassion for every human misery, offering ourselves to the Father and consecrating with Him our entire lives to God, for the good of the entire Church.”

The sisters taught children, fed the poor, and visited those who were sick and elderly. Some of those Maria visited had executed her husband. One of the women she cared for until her death had denounced him to those who imprisoned and later killed him. She also took care of the son of the man who dragged her husband’s body through the streets. She pleaded with the court not to sentence her husband’s killers to death. Maria wrote, “I have only done what Christ has taught me: Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”

Each of us has experienced pain as a result of the words and actions of others at some point during our lives, and we recognize, at least intellectually, that we carry a tremendous burden if we do not release the hurt and anger that we may have felt as a result. At times it is difficult to forgive. But Maria has shown us that it is possible.

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January 17, 2011

How the heck?????



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A Cherokee Legend, from today's email



Do you know the legend of the Cherokee Indian youths' rite of passage?

His father takes him into the forest, blindfolds him, and leaves him alone. The young man is required to sit on a stump the whole night without removing the blindfold until the rays of the morning sun shine through it. He cannot cry out for help to anyone.

Once he survives the night, he is a man. He cannot tell the other boys of this experience, because each lad must come into manhood on his own.

The boy is naturally terrified. He can hear all kinds of noises. Wild beasts must surely be all around him. Maybe even some human might do him harm. He can hear the wind blowing grass and earth, but he sits stoically, never removing the blindfold. This is the only way he can become a man!

Finally, the sun appears and he removes his blindfold, and discovers his father sitting on the stump next to him. His father had been keeping watch the entire night, protecting his son from harm.

We, too, are never alone. Even when we don't know it, God is watching over us, sitting on the stump beside us. When trouble comes, all we have to do is reach out to Him.
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January 16, 2011

Weekend wit: The choir



In any chorus, there are four voice parts: soprano, alto, tenor, and bass. Sometimes these are divided into first and second within each part, prompting endless jokes about first and second basses. There are also various other parts such as baritone, countertenor, contralto, mezzosoprano, etc., but these are mostly used by people who are either soloists, or belong to some excessively hotshot classical a cappella group (this applies especially to countertenors), or are trying to make excuses for not really fitting into any of the regular voice parts, so we will ignore them for now.

Each voice part sings in a different range, and each one has a very different personality. You may ask, "Why should singing different notes make people act differently?", and indeed this is a mysterious question and has not been adequately studied, especially since scientists who study musicians tend to be musicians themselves and have all the peculiar complexes that go with being tenors, French horn players, timpanists, or whatever. However,this is beside the point; the fact remains that the four voice parts can be easily distinguished, and I will now explain how...

THE SOPRANOS are the ones who sing the highest, and because of this they think they rule the world. They have longer hair, fancier jewelry, and swishier skirts than anyone else, and they consider themselves insulted if they are not allowed to go at least to a high F in every movement of any given piece. When they reach the high notes, they hold them for at least half again as long as the composer and/or conductor requires, and then complain that their throats are killing them and that the composer and conductor are sadists.

Sopranos have varied attitudes toward the other sections of the chorus, though they consider all of them inferior. Altos are to sopranos rather like second violins to first violins - nice to harmonise with, but not really necessary. All sopranos have a secret feeling that the altos could drop out and the piece would sound essentially the same, and they don't understand why anybody would sing in that range in the first place - it's so boring. Tenors, on the other hand, can be very nice to have around; besides their flirtation possibilities (it is a well-known fact that sopranos never flirt with basses), sopranos like to sing duets with tenors because all the tenors are doing is working very hard to sing in a low-to-medium soprano range, while the sopranos are up there in the stratosphere showing off. To sopranos, basses are the scum of the earth - they sing too loud, are useless to tune because they're down in that low, low range - and there has to be something wrong with anyone who sings in the F clef, anyway.

THE ALTOS are the salt of the earth - in their opinion, at least. Altos are unassuming people, who would wear jeans to concerts if they were allowed to. Altos are in a unique position in the chorus in that they are unable to complain about having to sing either very high or very low, and they know that all the other sections think their parts are pitifully easy. But the altos know otherwise. They know that while the sopranos are screeching away on a high A, they are being forced to sing elaborate passages full of sharps and flats and tricks of rhythm, and nobody is noticing because the sopranos are singing too loud (and the basses usually are too). Altos get a deep,secret pleasure out of conspiring together to tune the sopranos flat. Altos have an innate distrust of tenors, because the tenors sing in almost the same range and think they sound better. They like the basses, and enjoy singing duets with them - the basses just sound like a rumble anyway, and it's the only time the altos can really be heard. Altos' other complaint is that there are always too many of them and so they never get to sing really loud.

THE TENORS are spoiled. That's all there is to it. For one thing, there are never enough of them, and choir directors would rather sell their souls than let a halfway decent tenor quit, while they're always ready to unload a few altos at half price. And then, for some reason, the few tenors are always really good - it's one of those annoying facts of life. So it's no wonder that tenors always get swollen heads - after all, who else can make sopranos swoon? The one thing that can make tenors insecure is the accusation (usually by the basses) that anyone singing that high couldn't possibly be a real man.. In their usual perverse fashion, the tenors never acknowledge this, but just complain louder about the composer being a sadist and making them sing so high.

Tenors have a love-hate relationship with the conductor, too, because the conductor is always telling them to sing louder because there are so few of them. No conductor in recorded history has ever asked for less tenor in a forte passage. Tenors feel threatened in some way by all the other sections - the sopranos because they can hit those incredibly high notes; the altos because they have no trouble singing the notes the tenors kill themselves for; and the basses because, although they can't sing anything above an E, they sing it loud enough to drown the tenors out. Of course, the tenors would rather die than admit any of this. It is a little-known fact that tenors move their eyebrows more than anyone else while singing.

THE BASSES sing the lowest of anybody. This basically explains everything. They are stolid, dependable people, and have more facial hair than anybody else. The basses feel perpetually unappreciated, but they have a deep conviction that they are actually the most important part (a view endorsed by musicologists, but certainly not by sopranos or tenors), despite the fact that they have the most boring part of anybody and often sing the same note(or in endless fifths) for an entire page. They compensate for this by singing as loudly as they can get away with - most basses are tuba players at heart.

Basses are the only section that can regularly complain about how low their part is, and they make horrible faces when trying to hit very low notes. Basses are charitable people, but their charity does not extend so far as tenors, whom they consider effete poseurs. Basses hate tuning the tenors more than almost anything else. Basses like altos - except when they have duets and the altos get the good part. As for the sopranos, they are simply in an alternate universe which the basses don't understand at all. They can't imagine why anybody would ever want to sing that high and sound that bad when they make mistakes. When a bass makes a mistake, the other three parts will cover him, and he can continue on his merry way, knowing that sometime, somehow, he will end.


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January 15, 2011

Weekend wit: Excerpts from actual letters sent to landlords



Can you please tell me when our repairs are going to be done as my wife is about to become an expectant mother.
Could you please send someone to fix our bath tap. My wife got her toe stuck in it and it is very uncomfortable for us.
I am still having trouble with smoke in my built in drawers.
I am writing on behalf of my sink, which is running away from the wall.
I awoke this morning and found my water boiling.
I request your permission to remove my drawers in the kitchen.
Our kitchen floor is very damp, we have two children and would like a third, so will you please send someone to do something about it.
Our lavatory seat is broken in half and is now in three pieces.
The lavatory is blocked, this is caused by the boys next door throwing their balls on the roof.
The toilet is blocked and we cannot bath the children until it is cleared.
The toilet seat is cracked: where do I stand?
This is to let you know that there is a smell coming from the man next door.
Will you please send someone to mend our cracked sidewalk. Yesterday my wife tripped on it and is now pregnant.
Would you please send a man to repair my downspout. I am an old age pensioner and need it straight away.

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January 14, 2011

Mother Teresa speaks of love


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Which kind of person are you?


I don't consider myself naive, but I do tend to find most people to be pretty nice. They make mistakes, sure, and some of them are doozies. But the folks I meet don't deliberately set out to harm or offend other people. Most of them are helpful rather than hurtful. I know that there are people in the world who are cruel... we only need to check out the nightly news to demonstrate that. But in the main, the people I've met through the years have treated me with kindness, not cruelty.

I've met people who have the opposite outlook. They tend to be suspicious of others. It seems they expect the worst, and people they meet have to prove they're not bad guys. To folks with this outlook, I'm hopelessly naive and almost certain to be victimized. To those with this sort of world view, I offer this quotation:
Shortly after he had moved into a small town in Pennsylvania, a newcomer fell into conversation with an old Quaker who was in the habit of sitting on a stool in a gathering spot of the little community. "What kind of people live here?" asked the newcomer. The old Quaker asked in reply, "What kind of people didst thee live amongst before?" "Oh, they were mean, narrow, suspicious and very unfair," answered the man. "Then," replied the wise Quaker, "I am sorry, thee will find the same manner of people here."
– A. Purnell Bailey

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Don't forget to visit Conversion Diary each Friday for 7 Quick Takes.
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January 13, 2011

Gratitude

Gratitude is the most fruitful way of deepening your consciousness that you are not an "accident" but a divine choice. It is important to realize how often we have had chances to be grateful and have not used them. When someone is kind to us, when an event turns out well, when a problem is resolved, a wound healed, there are very concrete reasons to offer thanks: be it with words, with flowers, a letter, a card, a phone call, or a gesture of affection. However, precisely the same situations also offer us occasions to be critical, skeptical, even cynical because, when someone is kind to us, we can question his or her motives; when an event turns out well, it could always have turned out better; when a problem is solved, there often emerges another in its place; when a relationship is restored, there is always the question" "For how long?"; when a wound is healed, there can also be some leftover pain.... 
 
Where there is reason for gratitude, there can always be found a reason for bitterness. It is here that we are faced with the freedom to make a decision. We can decide to be grateful or to be bitter. We can decide to recognize our chosenness in the moment or we can decide to focus on the shadow side. When we persist in looking at the shadow side, we will eventually end up in the dark.
-Henri J.M. Nouwen
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When love chooses...

When love chooses, it chooses with a perfect sensitivity for the unique beauty of the chosen one, and it chooses without making anyone else feel excluded. We touch here a great spiritual mystery: to be chosen does not mean that others are rejected. It is very hard to conceive of this in a competitive world such as ours. All my memories of being chosen are linked to memories of others not being chosen. When I was not chosen for a soccer team, not chosen to be the leader of a Boy Scout patrol, or when I was chosen to be the "senior" of my ordination class, or to be honored with special awards, there were always tears alongside smiles and smiles alongside tears. Competition and comparison were always there. .. In this world, to be chosen simply means to be set apart in contrast to others... To be chosen as the Beloved of God is something radically different. Instead of excluding others, it includes others. Instead of rejecting others as less valuable, it accepts others in their own uniqueness. It is not a competitive, but a compassionate choice.

- Henri J.M. Nouwen
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January 12, 2011

My dying words

In this post a week or so ago, I spoke of my father’s medical condition. I said then that things could go either way. And now… once again… things could go either way.

To give a quick update, Dad was able to come off the ventilator and was stabilized enough to undergo surgery to repair his fractured hip. The surgery couldn’t be performed until 2 weeks after his fracture, and during that 2 weeks he was completely immobilized. But the surgery went well, and his condition improved enough to transfer him back to the skilled nursing facility in the continuing care retirement community where he lives.

During the weeks that he was immobilized, he lost almost all of his muscle mass. He was unable to lift his head off his chest. He was unable to flex his knees. He can’t sit unsupported and most assuredly can’t stand or walk. He has no appetite and has lost so much weight that he looks like he was just liberated from Auschwitz. He has difficulty remaining awake, and barely has the strength to cough. His chest xray suggests that he may be developing pneumonia, and this could well be fatal in his weakened state.

At minimum, it will be months before he is able to return to independent living in his apartment. He is depressed and continues to mourn for his wife, who died 13 months ago. He has never had much tolerance for frustration, nor has he gained a reputation for being a patient man. He hates to exercise, and would have to actively participate in a lengthy period of rehabilitation in order to recover. He has been clear about what sort of medical care he wants at this point: no CPR, no ventilator, no defibrillator, no hospitalization. Taken together, these things don’t seem to provide a lot of room for optimism that he will get well.

On the other hand, it has been heartening to see how he has lived over the past year or so. He has made efforts to tie up business affairs. He was estranged from a close family member, and that relationship was restored. He asked to meet with someone he feared he’d offended and apologized to make sure things were made right. He expressed his love for family and friends. He shared memories. He grew closer yet to God.

I’ve remained with him for the past three weeks. Frankly that’s been stressful. His home is 8 hours away from mine. My husband, my home, my church, and my closest friends are all too far away. Although I think I’ve been as supportive and loving as I can be, there was one particular night when, due to illness on his part and sleep deprivation on mine, we snapped at each other.

I’m glad that wasn’t our last night together.

For that, I thank God.

I know I’ll never do this perfectly, but I’ve become aware that each time we interact with another human being, it may well be the last time we have to spend together. And I’ve tried to think: are these words the last ones I want to say?

Is this what I want to remember about our last time together?

It seems to me that if we really thought about that... if we allowed our words and behavior to be shaped by that thought... we'd live in a much kinder world.



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January 11, 2011

An exercise of authority with humility: is it possible?

Then they came to Capernaum, and on the sabbath he entered the synagogue and taught. The people were astonished at his teaching, for he taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes.
-Mark 1:21-22

Think what the personality of Jesus must have been. In the verses just prior to these, Jesus was walking along the shoreline and saw two men fishing. He asked them to accompany him, and they immediately left everything they knew to follow him. And two other fishermen did the same in the next verses, leaving their boats, their nets, and their father to follow Jesus.

Do you ever wonder what the personality of Jesus must have been like for people to drop everything to become his disciples? He was simply a carpenter’s son. He’d done nothing that distinguished him in the public eye during the first three decades of his life, but he now spoke with such authority that listeners were astonished. His teaching was contrasted with that of the scribes… the religious leaders of his day… and the comparison is striking to me when I consider who he was and who they were. "He taught them as one having authority and not as the scribes”.

Yet he didn’t do this by wielding his authority or threatening or boasting of his knowledge and power. Instead, he gave us another sort of example: he demonstrated how to get the message across without rattling our swords or raising our voices. He showed us how to influence others with humility. And we are asked to follow his example.

Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus, Who, though he was in the form of God, did not regard equality with God something to be grasped. Rather, he emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even death on a cross.
-Phillipians 2:5-8

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January 10, 2011

Statistics can be scary.



According to this post by Archbishop Timothy Dolan in his blog, "The Gospel in the Digital Age", 41% of babies in New York are aborted. I had to read that figure several times to even begin to fathom that statistic.

41% of babies conceived by mothers in New York are aborted? How can this be?

I hoped - prayed - that this was a misprint, but then I did a bit of poking around on the internet and found some more statistics here and here and here that make me fear that the statistics are real.

Is it me, or is there a wealth of evidence that there is less and less respect for life? Abortion. Kids bringing weapons to school. Suicide bombers. Planes flown into buildings. IEDs. The death penalty. Wars. Assisted suicide. Euthanasia. 

How can we begin to restore a sense of the sacredness of life? In particular, how can we promote this sense in the young people who will be setting the course of our world in the years to come? Are you willing to take the chance that we're only on the beginning of a slippery slope that will lead to a total disregard for others?

What can we do to turn things around?

What will you do?
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January 9, 2011

Please add to my list.


Fr. Vijaykumar Rayarala, PIME, Director of the Swarga Dwar Ashram & Rehabilitation Centre in Maharastra, India, sent these New Years greetings to the PIME Missionaries of North America, whose website can be found here.

Another fresh new year is here . . .
Another year to live!
To banish worry, doubt, and fear,
To love and laugh and give!

This bright new year is given me
To live each day with zest . . .
To daily grow and try to be
My highest and my best!

I have the opportunity
Once more to right some wrongs,
To pray for peace, to plant a tree,
And sing more joyful songs!

I like the sentiments expressed here, and added a few thoughts of my own.. a few other things that would be good uses of the time God may give us during the New Year:

Time to forgive... to heal broken relationships... to help someone in need... to grow closer to God... to take better care of my body... to organize "stuff" in my house... to weed early and often...

How about you? What would you add to the list?

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January 8, 2011

Eyes turning toward Bethlehem




So many eyes were turning toward Bethlehem. First the census which required people to go there… including Joseph and Mary, heavy with child. The town was crowded: so much so that all the inns were bursting at the seams, so the couple took the only available lodging. And there, with barn animals as witnesses, the Child was born.

Think of the responses to that birth. Angels announced it to shepherds who, driven by curiosity, came to see him. And wise men set off to follow a star, stopping a few miles away to ask Herod where the newborn King could be found. The wanted to worship him. Herod wanted to kill him.

Later, some folks wanted him to heal them, some wanted to listen to his teaching, and some wanted to trip him up, setting traps to ensnare him. Some wanted him crowned king, others wanted to crucify him.

What about you? How do you respond to a God willing to step off his throne to lie in a manger?

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January 7, 2011

Finding God in the simple stuff of life


Have you ever noticed that sometimes... if you listen... you'll find sermons in the "stuff" of life? I admit I'm not very good at meditation, but now and again I manage to shut off the chatter in my head and hear the "gentle whisper" of God. Sometimes God speaks to me in metaphors, and in the quote that follows, a man named Alexandros Papaderos describes a similar experience: God speaking to him in a simple image that had a broader application:



I was a small child during the war. One day, on the road, I found the broken pieces of a mirror. I kept the largest piece I began to play with it and became fascinated that I could reflect light into dark places where the sun would never shine – deep holes, crevices, dark closets. I kept the little mirror, and as I became a man, I grew to understand that this was not just a child’s game but a metaphor for what I might do with my life – that I am a fragment of a mirror whose whole design I do not know. With what I have, I can reflect light – truth, understanding, knowledge – into the black places in the hearts of men and change some things in some people. Perhaps others may see and do likewise. This is what I do.

Have about you? Has God ever spoken to you through the simple "stuff" of life?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Visit Conversion Diary each Friday for 7 Quick Takes.


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January 6, 2011

Some things are just TOO funny.

The Associated Press reports that a burglar in Delaware ran into problems. It seems he'd broken into a certain home in the past, which prompted the owners to change the locks so that a key was required both to enter and to exit the home. For this reason, our criminal decided to break in through a  window in the back of the residence. 
As it happens, the family which owned the house was away, so the robber stayed in the home for a few days. 
Drinking.

3 bottles of gin plus 2 bottles of whiskey.

As a result, he was so drunk that he couldn't figure out how to climb out the rear window to exit the home. But he did remember how to contact the police, so he called 9-1-1 and asked the police to help him get out.

And that's how he wound up IN...

...in JAIL, that is.

Don't believe me? Read the AP article here.
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January 5, 2011

The value of time

 
 

To realize the value of a sister/brother:
ask someone who doesn't have one.

To realize the value of ten years:
ask a newly divorced couple.

To realize the value of four years:
ask a graduate.

To realize the value of one year:
ask a student who has failed a final exam.

To realize the value of nine months:
ask a mother who gave birth to a stillborn.

To realize the value of one month:
ask a mother who has given birth to
a premature baby.

To realize the value of one week:
ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of one minute:
ask a person who has missed the train, bus or plane.

To realize the value of one second:
ask a person who has survived an accident.

To realize the value of a friend or family member:
lose one.

Time waits for no one.

Treasure every moment you have.

You will treasure it even more when
you can share it with someone special.

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January 4, 2011

What WERE they thinking?

According to an article on Fox News, the Discovery Channel has decided to hold off on a program in which they'd planned to reenact the autopsy of Michael Jackson. Apparently this decision was prompted by objections raised that this might be considered insensitive by members of Jackson's family.

Could anyone have thought otherwise? What might have led them to believe that this program could be a good idea? Is the media unable to generate enough empathy to imagine that programming like this might be painful for family and friends who love and remember Jackson?

The closest I've ever come to experiencing something along these lines was 30-some years ago. On November 3, 1979, 5 civil rights protesters were allegedly killed by members of the Ku Klux Klan and the American Nazi Party. One of the men who was killed was a person who worked for the same hospital I did. I knew him only casually; he was basically someone I could say hello to as we passed each other in the hall. As it happens, the media was on the scene and filming when this man was down on his knees covering his head as he was beaten. This footage was shown over and over and over in the weeks and months that followed. Each time I saw it, my stomach turned, and I couldn't help but wonder how those who knew him well felt as they were confronted with this image.


Isn't it time for the media to show a bit of compassion and common sense? And isn't it time for us to let them know that we're sick of the sensationalism?

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January 3, 2011

The Challenge of A New Year




We are at the end of another year. Soon, this present year will take its place among so many others that have come before it.

Time passes, the years come and go, and we come and go with them. Nevertheless, we must make a strong and absolute resolution that, if our Lord wills that we might enjoy this coming year, we will make a better use of this New Year than the many that have preceded it.

Let us walk with a new and lively spring in our step in the service of God and one another. Let us renew our efforts to grow in our perfection. Let us take great courage to earnestly labor and master ourselves, and to purify ourselves of those things which prevent us from being more of who God calls us to be.

It is easy to begin a New Year: it is not so easy to see it to completion. It is not so easy to put our hands to the work that God expects of us during every day of this approaching year. To begin the year without planning to tend to our labors is to run the risk of allowing yet another year to slip away without any profit to our soul. Don’t let this happen to you; rather, consider how well you are making use of each and every present moment that God gives you.

We are growing older and drawing nearer to death every day. Our days, months and years flow on, ultimately coming to an end. How should we respond to this reality? By doing all that is good and by hoping in the Lord! Let us embrace our state and stage of life as fully as we can. Let us employ the time that God gives us with great care. While we ultimately must depend and rely upon God’s mercy, let us at the same time remember to do as much good as we can in the time that God gives us now.

So, let us begin another New Year in the name of our Lord. Let us resolve to do the best we can with what ever little we possess. While God wants only what we can do, God clearly expects us to do what we can. Therefore, let us be careful to give what – in justice – is due to God and to one another. Let us do what is good, and place our hope and confidence in God’s infinite compassion.

(Based upon an exhortation by St. Jane de Chantal given on the last Saturday of December, 1629. See the original and entire text in St. Jane Frances Fremyot de Chantal: Her Exhortations, Conferences and Instructions. Westminster, MD: Newman Bookshop, 1947, page 106.)

H/T to Salesian Spirituality Yahoo Group. 

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Yielding to God's will

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January 2, 2011

Chocolate Facts




Did you make a resolution to stop eating chocolate during 2011? You need to read this!

Chocolate is derived from cocoa beans. Bean = vegetable. Sugar is derived from either sugar CANE or sugar BEETS. Both are plants, which places them in the vegetable category. Thus, chocolate is a vegetable.
To go one step further, chocolate candy bars also contain milk, which is dairy. So candy bars are a health food.
Chocolate-covered raisins, cherries, orange slices and strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.
If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're eating it too slowly.
The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.
Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off your appetite, and you'll eat less.
If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are afraid of heights, and they will jump out of the chocolate to protect themselves. (We're testing this with other snack foods as well.)
If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate, is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract each other?
Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger. Therefore, you need to eat more chocolate.
Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.
A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake of calories in one place. Now, isn't that handy?
If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with you?
If not for chocolate, there would be no need for control top pantyhose. An entire garment industry would be devastated. You can't let that happen, can you?
MEDICAL NEWS FLASH "Stressed" spelled backward is "desserts."
Send this to four women and you will lose two pounds. Send this to all the women you know (or ever knew), and you will lose 10 pounds.
If you delete this message, you will gain 10 pounds immediately.

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January 1, 2011

From today's email: The Law of the Garbage Truck



One day I hopped in a taxi and we took off for the airport. We were driving in the right lane when suddenly a black car jumped out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his brakes, skidded, and missed the other car by just inches!

The driver of the other car whipped his head around and started yelling at us. My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. And I mean, he was really friendly. So I asked, 'Why did you just do that? This guy almost ruined your car and sent us to the hospital!'

This is when my taxi driver taught me what I now call " The Law of the Garbage Truck."

He explained that many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it and sometimes they'll dump it on you.

Don't take it personally. Just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. Don't take their garbage
and spread it to other people at work, at home, or on the streets.

The bottom line is that successful people do not let garbage trucks take over their day.

Life's too short to wake up in the morning with regrets, so ... Love the people who treat you right.
Pray for the ones who don't.

Life is ten percent what you make it and ninety percent how you take it!

Have a garbage-free day!
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Happy New Year!



I did a bit of poking around on the internet and found a list of the most popular new years resolutions. And according to my research, here they are:
  • Get Out of Debt
  • Save Money
  • Quit Smoking
  • Drink Less Alcohol
  • Lose Weight
  • Get Fit
  • Manage Stress
  • Enjoy Life More
  • Take a Trip
  • Get Organized
  • Get a Better Education
  • Get a Better Job
  • Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle
  • Spend More Time with Family & Friends
  • Volunteer to Help Others 
I also found a statistic that indicates that  92% of the resolutions we made won't be kept. And to be honest, I think my personal success rate isn't even that good. Perhaps that's because I don't bring God into the decisions. All too often, I don't ask for his help in developing my resolutions, and all too often, I try to achieve them under my own power.

Wouldn't it make more sense to ask God's guidance in figuring out what goals to set for myself? And for that matter, wouldn't it make more sense to set these goals with him on a regular basis... and much more often than once a year? And wouldn't I be more likely to succeed if I sought his help in achieving them?

What about you? Is your success rate better than mine? (It almost HAS to be!!!) Do you have a resolution for the coming year?




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