If we still ourselves long enough to close our eyes, our hearts tell us that there are only a few things in life that have meaning for eternity and bring lasting fulfillment. Look for those things and life becomes alive again and again and again!
“I’ve lost, so what’s the use”, he thought “I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad who soon he’d have to face.
Get up, and the echo sounded low, get up and take your place.
You were not meant for failure here, so get up and win the race.
With Borrowed will, “Get up!”, It said, “You haven’t lost at all,
for winning is not more than this, to rise each time you fall.”
Witnessing A Miracle It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped… Witnessing A Miracle It was one of the hottest days of the dry season. We had not seen rain in almost a month. The crops were dying. Cows had stopped giving milk. The creeks and streams were long gone back into the earth. It was a dry season that would bankrupt several farmers before it was through. Every day, my husband and his brothers would go about the arduous process of trying to get water to the fields. Lately, this process had involved taking a truck to the local water rendering plant and filling it up with water. But severe rationing had cut everyone off. If we didn’t see some rain soon we would lose everything. It was on this day that I learned the true lesson of sharing and witnessed the only miracle I have seen with my own eyes. I was in the kitchen making lunch for my husband and his brothers when I saw my six-year-old son, Billy, walking toward the woods. He wasn’t walking with the usual carefree abandon of a youth but with a serious purpose. I could only see his back. He was obviously
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The Many Names of Christ To the Artist, He is the One Altogether Lovely. To the Architect, He is the Chief Corner Stone. To the Baker, He is the Living… The Many Names of Christ To the Artist, He is the One Altogether Lovely. To the Architect, He is the Chief Corner Stone. To the Baker, He is the Living Bread. To the Banker, He is the Hidden Treasure. To the Biologist, He is the Life. To the Builder, He is the Sure Foundation. To the Carpenter, He is the Door. To the Doctor, He is the Great Physician. To the Educator, He is the Great Teacher. To the Engineer He is the New and Living Way. To the Florist He is the Rose of Sharon and the Lily of the Valley. To the Geologist He is the Rock of Ages. To the Horticulturist He is the True Vine. To the Judge, He is the Righteous Judge, Judge of All Men. To the Jeweler He is the Pearl of Great Price. To the lawyer, He is the Counselor, the Lawgiver, the Advocate. To the Newspaper, He is the Good Tidings of Great Joy. To the Oculist, He is the Light of the Eyes. To the Philanthropist, He is the Unspeakable Gift. To the Philosopher, He is the Wisdom of God.
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Wings to My Dreams That next heartbeat, that’s what we pray for. We are the medically challenged. We are the ones who keep our medical appointments because we must. To… Wings to My Dreams That next heartbeat, that’s what we pray for. We are the medically challenged. We are the ones who keep our medical appointments because we must. To miss that appointment is just unthinkable. We are the ones who stand, or wheel, or linger between each heartbeat, hoping for new medications or praying for a cure. Most of us pray every day. We cling to a merciful God whom we are certain will give us that next heartbeat. Please do not feel pity, for we have learned to rejoice in each moment that we are alive. We memorize sunsets and sunrises, and we celebrate the smiles and nuances of the ones we love. We are captivated by life. We revel at each new bird that stops by to visit our feeders, even the starlings, the pigeons, the sparrows and the doves. In the mountains, we feel blessed to see the bluebird, the indigo bunting, the woodpecker, and the thrush. In the south near the ocean, we rejoice over the plumage of the flamingoes, with their hot pink wings, and we have committed to memory the piercing cries of
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