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    October 31

    Invisible Mother......



    Invisible Mother......

    It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store.Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'

    Obviously not. No one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

    I'm invisible.. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more: Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?

    Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being.I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?'I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the Disney Channel?
    'I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'

    I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going; she's going; she is gone!

    One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend fromEngland ..

    Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself.

    I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: 'ToCharlotte , with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'

    In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book.. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

    No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
    These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
    They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
    The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

    A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam.He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it.' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'

    I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does.No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.'

    At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction. But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride.

    I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder.As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on.
    The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

    When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, 'you're gonna love it there.'

    As mothers, we are building great cathedrals.. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right.

    And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

    Great Job, MOM!

    Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know... I just did.

    Hope this encourages you when the going gets tough as it sometimes does. We never know what our finished products will turn out to be because of our perseverance.
    11:26 AM | Add a comment | Read comments (1) | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    October 18

    Columbo still scratching his head.

    Columbo still scratching his head.
      Ah . . Sorry to bother you Mr. Obama, Sir
      Excuse me Mr. Obama, I mean Senator Obama, sir. Um . . . know you are busy and important and stuff. I mean running for president is very important and . . . ah . . . I hate to bother you. I will only take a minute ok, sir?
      See, I have these missing pieces that are holding me up, and I was wondering sir, if you could take time out of your busy schedule and help me out. You know, no big deal, just some loose ends and things.
      Hey, you have a nice place here! The wife sees houses like this on TV all the time and says boy she wishes she had digs like this you know? Is that painting real? Really? Wow. I saw something like that in a museum once!
      Oh, sorry sir. I didn't mean to get off the track. So if you could just help me out a minute and give me some details, I will get right out of your way. I want to close this case and maybe take the wife to Coney Island or something. Ever been to Coney Island ? No, I didn't think so.
      Well, listen, anyways, I can't seem to get some information I need to wrap this up. These things seem to either be "locked" or "not available'. I'm sure it's just some oversight or glitch or something, so if you could you tell me where these things are . . . I . . . I . . . have them written down here somewhere . . oh wait. Sorry about the smears. It was raining out. I'll just read it to you.

      Could you help me please find these things, sir?
      1. Occidental College records -- Not released
      2. Columbia       College records -- Not released
      3. Columbia Thesis paper -- "not available"
      4. Harvard College records -- Not released
      5. Selective Service Registration -- Not released
      6 . Medical records -- Not released
      7. Illinois State Senate schedule -- "not available"
      8. Law practice client list -- Not released
      9. Certified Copy of original Birth certificate -- Not released
      10. Embossed, signed paper Certification of Live Birth -- Not released
      11. Harvard Law Review articles published -- None
      12. University of Chicago scholarly articles -- None
      13. Your Record of baptism-- Not released or "not available"
      14. Your Illinois State Senate records--"not available"

      Oh hey . listen! I know you are busy! Is this too much for you now? I mean tell you what. I will come back tomorrow. Give you some time to get these things together, you know? I mean, I know you are busy, so I will just let myself out. I will be back tomorrow.
      "Who wants to know these things?" asked Senator Obama.
      Columbo answered: THE PEOPLE
    1:54 PM | Add a comment | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    September 08

    IS IT SWEARING?

     
     
    IS IT SWEARING?

     

     

    In order to answer this question, let’s ask another: “What is swearing?”

     

    Webster’s dictionary helps answer that question by giving us information

    on these words:

     

       SWEAR – To invoke the name of a sacred being in an oath; to use

    profane language.

     

       INVOKE – to call upon

     

       SACRED – holy; entitled to reverence (honor and respect)

     

       OATH – an irreverent or careless use of a sacred name.

     

       PROFANE – to debase or defile what is holy; to treat unworthily.

     

    “Swearing,” then, would be to use the name of God

    (who deserves honor and respect) carelessly and unworthily.

     

    Exodus 20:7 says, “thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy

    god in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless that taketh

    his name in vain.

     

    “ Taking the name of the Lord in vain means using it lightly or

    thoughtlessly . . . .or, as Webster says, giving it “no real value.”

     

    Most Christians wouldn’t use such expressions as “God damn it.”

     They know this is taking God’s name “in vain.”

     

    BUT. . . many Christians who do not WANT to “swear”

    or take God’s name in vain, are doing just that when they use

    such words as “Gosh,” “Golly,” “Gee,” and other similar

    expressions.

     

    Once again, the dictionary helps us understand what these words mean.

    It gives us these definitions:

       GEE – a form of Jesus.

     

       GOLLY – a euphemism for God. (“Euphemism,” says Webster,

    is the substitution of one word for another.)

     

       GOSH – a substitute for God.

     

    Another word that some Christians seem to use easily is

    “darn” (or “Darned”). Webster’s definition for these words is simply

     “damn” or “damned.” To say, “Gol-darn it” is the same as saying,

    “God damn it.”

     

    Also, “I’ll be darned” is saying “I’ll be damned.

    “No one really wants to be damned!

     

     How about the word “heck.”

    The dictionary says that is another word for “hell.”

     

    The use of these kinds of words is very contrary to

    what the Bible says about our speech.

     

     For example, or Lord Jesus said,

       But I say unto you, Swear not at all.. but let your communication be,

     Yea, yea; Nay, nay; for whatsoever is more than these cometh evil.”

     Matthew 5: 34 & 37

     

    If we would write down every word we say in a day, and then read what we

    have said, we’d find that we use many “idle words” words just to fill up a

    sentence, to fill a vacancy when we don’t know what else to say.

     

    In Matthew 12:36 and 37, the Lord Jesus gave this important warning:

       “But I say unto you, That every idle word that men shall speak,

    they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment.”

     

    Yes….I know that most Christians who use such words

    do not  MEAN  to  be swearing.

     

    But if we try to excuse ourselves by saying that these words slip out by

    accident, we need to listen to what God says in the book of James.

       “If any man among you seemeth to be religious,  and bridleth not

     his tongue, but deceiveth his own heart, this man’s religion is vain.”

    James 1:26

      

       “The tongue…is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. Therewith

    bless we God. even  the Father; and therewith curse we men, which

    are made after the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceedeth

    blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things   Ought not so to be>”   

     James 3:8-10

     

    So … let’s be careful of what we say!

    Let’s “clean up” our language!

     

    Remember we are accountable to God for our words.

    Perhaps the best verse of Scripture to help us with this is...

     

     Psalms 19:14

     “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be

    acceptable in thy sight, Oh Lord, my strength, and my redeemer.”

     

    Let's Memorize this verse…and make it our daily prayer.

    7:58 AM | Add a comment | Read comments (3) | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    April 04

    True Story

    This is a true story.  It sat in my box for about a week before I read it, but I hope you don't take that long.  Great story!!!
     
    by Candace Carteen,

    By the time I was ten, I was totally ashamed of my father. All my friends called him names: Quasi-Moto, hunchback, monster,
    little Frankenstein, the crooked little man with the crooked
    little cane. At first it hurt when they called him those things,
    but soon I found myself agreeing with them. He was ugly, and I
    knew it!

    My father was born with something called parastremmatic
    dwarfism. The disease made him stop growing when he was about
    thirteen and caused his body to twist and turn into a grotesque
    shape. It wasn't too bad when he was a ki d. I saw pictures of
    him when he was about my age. He was a little short but quite
    good-looking. Even when he met my mother and married her when he was nineteen, he still looked pretty normal. He was still short
    and walked with a slight limp, but he was able to do just about
    anything. Mother said, 'He even used to be a great dancer.'

    Soon after my birth, things started getting worse. Another
    genetic disorder took over, and his left foot started turning
    out, almost backward. His head and neck shifted over to the
    right; his neck became rigid and he had to look over his left
    shoulder a bit. His right arm curled in and up, and his index
    finger almost touched his elbow. His spine warped to look
    something like a big, old rollercoaster and it caused his torso to lie sideways instead of straight up and down like a normal person. His walk became low, awkward, and deliberate. He had to almost drag his left foot as he used his deformed right arm to balance his gait.

    I hated to be seen with him. Everyone stared. They seemed to pity me. I knew he must have done something really bad to have God hate him that much. By the time I was seventeen, I was
    blaming all my problems on my father. I didn't have the right
    boyfriends because of him. I didn't drive the right car because
    of him. I wasn't pretty enough because of him. I didn't have the
    right jobs because of him. I wasn't happy because of him.

    Anything that was wrong with me, or my life, was because of him.  If my father had been good-looking like Jane's father, or
    successful like Paul's father, or worldly like Terry's father, I
    would be perfect! I knew that for sure.

    The night of my senior prom came, and Father had to place one more nail in my coffin; he had volunteered to be one of the
    chaperones at the dance.

    My heart just sank when he told me. I stormed into my room,
    slammed the door, threw myself on the bed, and cried. 'Three
    more weeks and I'll be out of here!' I screamed into my pil low.
    'Three more weeks and I will have graduated and be moving away to college.' I sat up and took a deep breath.

    'God, please make my father go away and leave me alone. He keeps sticking his big nose in everything I do. Just make him
    disappear, so that I can have a good time at the dance.'

    I got dressed, my date picked me up, and we went to the prom.
    Father followed in his car behind us. When we arrived, Father
    seemed to vanish into the pink chiffon drapes that hung
    everywhere in the auditorium. I thanked God that He had heard my prayer. At least now I could have some fun.

    Midway through the dance, Father came out from behind the drapes and decided to embarrass me again. He started dancing with my girlfriends. One by one, he took their hand and led them to the dance floor. He then clumsily moved them in circles as the band played. Now I tried to vanish into the drapes.

    After Jane had danced with him, she headed my way. Oh, no! I
    thought. She's going to tell me he stomped on her foot or
    something.

    'Grace,' she called, 'you have the greatest father.'

    My face fell. 'What?'

    She smiled at me and grabbed my shoulders. 'Your father's just
    the best. He's funny, kind, and always finds the time to be
    where you need him. I wish my father was more like that.'

    For one of the first times in my life, I couldn't talk. Her words confused me.

    'What do you mean?' I asked her.

    Jane looked at me really strangely. 'What do you mean, what do I mean? Your father's wonderful. I remember when we were kids, and I'd sleep over at your house. He'd always come into your room, sit down in the chair between the twin beds, and read us a book.  I'm not sure my father can even read,' she sighed, and then smiled. 'Thanks for sharing him.'

    Then, Jane ran off to dance with her boyfriend. I stood there in
    silence.

    A few minutes later, Paul came to stand beside me.

    'He's sure having a lot of fun.'

    'What? Who? Who is having a lot of fun?' I asked.

    'Your father. He's having a ball.'

    'Yeah. I guess.' I didn't know what else to say.

    'You know, he's always been there,' Paul said. 'I remember when you and I were on the mixed-doubles soccer team. He tried out as the coach, but he couldn't run up and down the field, remember?  So they picked Jackie's father instead. That didn't stop him. He showed up for every game and did whatever needed to be done. He was the team's biggest fan. I think he's the reason we won so many games. Without him, it just would have been Jackie's father
    running up and down the field yelling at us. Your father made it
    fun. I wish my father had been able to show up to at least one
    of our games. He was always too busy.'

    Paul's girlfriend came out of the restroom, and he went to her
    side, leaving me once again speechless.

    My boyfriend came back with two glasses of punch and handed me
    one. 'Well, what do you think of my father?' I asked out of the
    blue.

    Terry looked surprised. 'I like him. I always have.'

    'Then why did you call him names when we were kids?'

    'I don't know. Because he was different, and I was a dumb kid.'

    'When did you stop calling him names?' I asked, trying to search
    my own memory.

    Terry didn't even have to think about the answer. 'The day he
    sat down with me outside by the pool and held me while I cried
    about my mother and father's divorce. No one else would let me talk about it. I was hurting inside, and he could feel it. He
    cried with me that day. I thought you knew.'

    I looked at Terry and a tear rolled down my cheek as long-forgotten memories started cascading into my consciousness.

    When I was three, my puppy got killed by another dog, and my
    father was there to hold me and teach me what happens when the
    pets we love die.

    When I was five, my father took me to my first day of school. I
    was so scared. So was he. We cried and held each other that
    first day. The next day he became teacher's helper. When I was eight, I just couldn't do math. Father sat down with me night
    after night, and we worked on math problems until math became easy for me. When I was ten, my father bought me a brand-new bike. When it was stolen, because I didn't lock it up like I was taught to do, my father gave me jobs to do around the house so I could make enough money to purchase another one. When I was thirteen and my first love broke up with me, my father was there to yell at, to blame, and to cry with. When I was fifteen and I got to be in the honor society, my father was there to see me get the accolade. Now, when I was seventeen, he put up with me no matter how nasty I became or how high my hormones raged.

    As I looked at my father dancing gaily with my friends, a big
    toothy grin on his face, I suddenly saw him differently. The handicaps weren't his, they were mine! I had spent a great deal of my life hating the man who loved me. I had hated the exterior that I saw, and I had ignored the interior that contained his God-given heart. I suddenly felt very ashamed.

    I asked Terry to take me home, too overcome with feelings to
    remain.

    On graduation day, at my Christian high school, my name was called, and I stood behind the podium as the valedictorian of my class. As I looked out over the people in the audience, my gaze rested on my father in the front row sitting next to my mother.  He sat there, in his one and only, specially made suit, holding my mother's hand and smiling.

    Overcome with emotions, my prepared speech was to become a landmark in my life.

    'Today I stand here as an honor student, able to graduate with a
    4.0 average. Yes, I was in the honor society for three years and
    was elected class president for the last two years. I led our
    school to championship in the debate club, and yes, I even won a full scholarship to Kenton State University so that I can continue to study physics and someday ay become a college professor.

    'What I'm here to tell you today, fellow graduates, is that I
    didn't do it alone. God was there, and I had a whole bunch of
    friends, teachers, and counselors who helped. Up until three
    weeks ago, I thought they were the only ones I would be thanking
    this evening. If I had thanked just them, I would have been
    leaving out the e most important person in my life. My father.'

    I looked down at my father and at the look of complete shock
    that covered his face.

    I stepped out from behind the podium and motioned for my father to join me onstage. He made his way slowly, awkwardly, and deliberately. He had to drag his left foot up the stairs as he
    used his deformed right arm to balance his gait. As he stood
    next to me at the podium, I took his small, crippled hand in
    mine and held it tight.

    'Sometimes we only see the silhouette of the people around us,' I said. 'For years I was as shallow as the silhouettes I saw.
    For almost my entire life, I saw my father as someone to make
    fun of, someone to blame, and someone to be ashamed of. He
    wasn't perfect, like the fathers my friends had.

    'Well, fellow graduates, what I found out three weeks ago is
    that while I was envying my friends' fathers, my friends were
    envying mine. That realization hit me hard and made me look at
    who I was and what I had become. I was brought up to pray to God and hold high principles for others and myself. What I've done most of my life is read between the lines of the Good Book so I could justify my hatred.'

    Then, I turned to look my father in the face.

    'Father, I owe you a big apology. I based my love for you on
    what I saw and not what I felt. I forgot to look at the one part
    of you that meant the most, the big, big heart God gave you. As
    I move out of high school and into life, I want you to know I
    could not have had a better father. You were always there for
    me, and no matter how badly I hurt you, you still showed up.
    Thank you!'

    I took off my mortar board and placed it on his head, moving the
    tassel just so.

    'You are the reason I am standing here today. You deserve this
    honor, not me.'

    And as the audience applauded and cried with us, I felt God's
    light shining down upon me as I embraced my father more warmly than I ever had before, tears unashamedly falling down both our faces.

    For the first time, I saw my father through God's eyes, and I
    felt honored to be seen with him.

    From the book:
    God Allows U Turns: True Stories of Hope and Healing by Allison
    Bottke(Editor), Cheryll Hutchings

    Happiness often sneaks in.....through a door you didn't know you left open
    3:22 PM | Add a comment | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    February 29

    Chidren's Bible in a Nutshell

     
     
    ......A child was told to write a  book report on the entire Bible.
     Children's Bible in a  Nutshell
    In the beginning, which occurred near the start, there was nothing but God, darkness, and some gas. The Bible says, 'The Lord thy God is one, but I think He must be a lot older than that.
    Anyway, God said, 'Give me a light!' and someone did. Then God made the world. He split the Adam and made Eve. Adam and Eve were naked, but they weren't embarrassed because mirrors hadn't been invented yet.
    Adam and Eve disobeyed God by eating one Bad apple, so they were driven from the Garden of Eden. Not sure what they were driven in though, because they didn't have cars.  Adam and Eve had a son, Cain, who hated his brother as long as he was Abel.
    Pretty soon all of the early people died off, except for Methuselah, who lived to be like a million or something.
    One of the next important people was Noah, who was a good guy, but one of his kids was kind of a Ham. Noah built a large boat and put his family and some animals on it. He asked some other people to join him, but they said they would have to take a rain check.
    After Noah came Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. Jacob was more famous than his brother, Esau, because Esau sold Jacob his birthmark in exchange for some pot roast. Jacob had a son named Joseph who wore a really loud sports coat.

    Another important Bible guy is Moses, whose real name was Charlton Heston. Moses led the Israel Lights out of Egypt and away from the evil Pharaoh after God sent ten plagues on Pharaoh's people. These plagues included frogs, mice, lice, bowels, and no cable. God fed the Israel Lights every day with manicotti.

    Then he gave them His Top Ten Commandments. These include don't lie, cheat, smoke, dance, or covet your neighbor's stuff. Oh, yeah, I just thought of one more: Humor thy father and thy mother.
    One of Moses' best helpers was Joshua who was the first Bible guy to use spies. Joshua fought the battle of Geritol and the fence fell over on the town.
    After Joshua came David. He got to be king by killing a giant with a slingshot. He had a son named Solomon who had about 300 wives and 500  porcupines. My teacher says he was wise, but that doesn't sound very wise to me.

    After Solomon there were a bunch of major league prophets. One of these was Jonah, who was swallowed by a big whale and then barfed upon the shore. There were also some minor league prophets, but I guess we don't have to worry about them.
    After the Old Testament came the New Testament.  Jesus is the star of the New Testament. He was born in Bethlehem in a barn.  (I wish I had been born in a barn, too, because my mom is always saying to me, 'Close the door! Were you born in a barn?' It would be nice to say, 'As a matter of fact, I was.')
    During His life, Jesus had many arguments with sinners like the Pharisees and the Republicans. Jesus also had twelve  opossums. The worst one was Judas Asparagus. Judas was so evil that they named a terrible vegetable after him.
    Jesus was a great man. He healed many leopards and even preached to some Germans on the Mount. But the Republicans and all those guys put Jesus on trial before Pontius the Pilot. Pilot didn't stick up for Jesus. He just washed his hands instead.
    Any way's, Jesus died for our sins, then came back to life again.  He went up to Heaven but will be back at the end of the Aluminum.
    His return is foretold in the book of Revolution..
    8:51 PM | Add a comment | Read comments (1) | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    February 23

    Meet Me In The Stairwell

     'MEET ME IN THE STAIRWELL'
            You say you will never forget where you were when
              you heard the news On September 11, 2001.
    Neither  will I.
                I was on the 110th floor in a smoke filled room
              with a man who called his wife to say 'Good-Bye.' I
              held his fingers steady as he dialed. I gave him the
              peace to say, 'Honey, I am not going to make it, but it
              is OK...I am ready to go.'
              I was with his wife when he called as she fed
              breakfast to their children. I held her up as she
              tried to understand his words and as she realized
              he wasn't coming home that night.
              I was in the stairwell of the 23rd floor when a
              woman cried out to Me for help. 'I have been
              knocking on the door of your heart for 50 years!' I said.
              'Of course I will show you the way home - only
              believe in Me now.'
              I was at the base of the building with the Priest
              ministering to the injured and devastated souls.
              I took him home to tend to his Flock in Heaven. He
              heard my voice and answered.
              I was on all four of those planes, in every seat,
              with every prayer. I was with the crew as they
              were overtaken. I was in the very hearts of the
              believers there, comforting and assuring them that their
              faith has saved them.
              I was in Texas, Virginia, California, Michigan,  Afghanistan.
              I was standing next to you when you heard the terrible news.
              Did you sense Me?
              I want you to know that I saw every face. I knew
              every name - though not all know Me. Some met Me
              for the first time on the 86th floor.
              Some sought Me with their last breath.
              Some couldn't hear Me calling to them through the
              smoke and flames; 'Come to Me... this way... take
              my hand.' Some chose, for the final time, to ignore Me.
     But, I was there.
              I did not place you in the Tower that day. You
              may not know why, but I do. However, if you were
              there in that explosive moment in time, would you have
              reached for Me?
              
    Sept. 11, 2001, was not the end of the journey
              for you. But someday your journey will end. And I
              will be there for you as well. Seek Me now while I may
              be found. Then, at any moment, you know you are
              'ready to go.'
              I will be in the stairwell of your final moments.
              God
    5:11 PM | Add a comment | Read comments (1) | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    January 04

    I Care About You

     Hi Folk's,
    This is a repost, but It just does my heart so much good to read it and I thought you might enjoy it too.              
     
     
     
       "I Care About You!"
     
    A few weeks ago a woman was killed in an auto accident. She was very well
    Liked, so the office shut down for her funeral and it was on the news and so
    On. On the day the workers came back to work, they found this poem in their
    E-mail that the deceased woman had sent on Friday before she left for home.

    "If tomorrow starts without me,
    And I'm not there to see,
    If the sun should rise and find your eyes
    All filled with tears for me;

    I wish so much you wouldn't cry
    The way you did today,
    While thinking of the many things,
    We didn't get to say.

    I know how much you love me,
    As much as I love you,
    And each time that you think of me,
    I know you'll miss me too;

    But when tomorrow starts without me,
    Please try to understand,
    That an angel came and called my name,
    And took me by the hand,

    And said my place was ready,
    In heaven far above,
    And that I'd have to leave behind
    All those I dearly love.

    But as I turned to walk away,
    A tear fell from my eye,
    For all my life, I'd always thought,
    I didn't want to die.

    I had so much to live for,
    So much left yet to do,
    It seemed almost impossible,
    That I was leaving you.

    I thought of all the yesterdays,
    The good ones and the bad,
    I thought of all that we shared,
    And all the fun we had.

    If I could relive yesterday,
    Just even for a while,
    I'd say good-bye and kiss you
    And maybe see you smile.

    But then I fully realized,
    That this could never be,
    For emptiness and memories,
    Would take the place of me.

    And when I thought of worldly things,
    I might miss come tomorrow,
    I thought of you, and when I did,
    My heart was filled with sorrow.

    But when I walked through heaven's gates,
    I felt so much at home.
    When God looked down and smiled at me,
    From His great golden throne,

    He said, "This is eternity,
    And all I've promised you."
    Today your life on earth is past,
    But here life starts anew.

    I promise no tomorrow,
    But today will always last,
    And since each day is the same way,
    There's no longing for the past.

    You have been so faithful,
    So trusting and so true.
    Though there were times you did some things,
    You knew you shouldn't do.

    But you have been forgiven,
    And now at last you're free.
    So won't you come and take my hand,
    And share my life with me?

    So when tomorrow starts without me,
    Don't think we're far apart,
    For every time you think of me,
    I'm right here, in your heart "

     May God watch over you and your family now and
    Always. There is no right time to do the wrong thing....there is no wrong
    Time to tell someone you care.
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    November 03

    Three Military Quotes

    1.  When in England at a fairly
    large conference, Colin Powell was asked
    by the Archbishop of
    Canterbury if our plans for Iraq were just an example of 'empire
    building' by George Bush.

    He answered by saying, 'Over the
    years, the United States has sent many of its fine young men and
    women into great peril to fight for freedom beyond our borders. The
    only amount of land we have ever asked for in return is enough to
    bury those that did not return.

    It became very quiet in the
    room.
    2 Then there was a conference in France where a number of
    international engineers were taking part, including French and

    American. During a break one of the French engineers came back
    into the room saying 'Have you heard the latest dumb stunt Bush has
    done?
    He has sent an aircraft carrier to Indonesia to help the
    tsunami victims . What does he intended to do, bomb them?'

    A
    Boeing engineer stood up and replied quietly: 'Our carriers have
    three hospitals on board that can treat several hundred people; they
    are nuclear powered and can supply emergency electrical power to
    shore
    facilities; they have three cafeterias with the capacity
    to feed 3,000 people three meals day, they can produce several
    thousand
    gallons of fresh water from sea water each day, and
    they carry half a dozen helicopters for use in transporting victims
    and injured to and from their flight deck. We have eleven such
    ships; how many does
    France have?'
    Once again, dead silence.
     
    3. A U.S. Navy Admiral was attending a naval conference that
    included Admirals from the U.S., English, Canadian, Australian and
    French Navies. At a cocktail reception, he found himself standing
    with a large group of Officers that included personnel from most of
    those countries. Eve ryone was chatting away in English as they
    sipped
    their drinks but a French admiral suddenly complained
    that, 'whereas Europeans learn many languages, Americans learn only
    English.' He then asked, 'Why is it that we always have to speak
    English in these
    conferences rather than speaking French?'


    Without hesitating, the American Admiral replied 'Maybe it's
    because the Brits, Canadians, Aussies and Americans arranged it so
    you wouldn' t have to speak German.'
    You could have heard a pin
    drop!
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    October 16

    Don't Hope, Friend....Decide


    Don't Hope, Friend...Decide!

    While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had
    one of those life changing experiences that you hear other people talk
    about. You know, the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly? Well, this one
    occurred a mere two feet away from me!

    Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the
    jetway, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped
    right next to me to greet his family.

    First, he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down
    his bags. They gave each other a long, and movingly loving hug. As they
    separated enough to look in each other's face, I heard the father say, "It's
    so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!" His son smiled somewhat
    shyly, diverted his eyes, and replied softly, "Me too, Dad!"

    Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe 9 or 10)
    and while cupping his son's face in his hands he said, "You're already quite
    the young man. I love you very much Zach!" They too hugged a most loving,
    tender hug. His son said nothing. No reply was necessary.

    While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one and a half) was
    squirming excitedly in her mother's arms, never once taking her little eyes
    off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, "Hi
    babygirl!" as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed
    her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her
    from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her
    head on his shoulder and remained motionless in total pure contentment.

    After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and
    declared, "I've saved the best for last!" and proceeded to give his wife the
    longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes
    for several seconds and then silently mouthed, "I love you so much!" They
    stared into each other's eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while
    holding both hands. For an instant, they reminded me of newlyweds but I knew
    by the age of their kids that they couldn't be. I puzzled about it for a
    moment, then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display
    of unconditional love not more than an arm's length away from me. I suddenly
    felt uncomfortable, as if I were invading something sacred, but was amazed
    to hear my own voice nervously ask, "Wow! How long have you two been
    married?"

    "Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those," he replied
    without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife's face. "Well then, how long
    have you been away?" I asked. The man finally looked at me, still beaming
    his joyous smile and told me, "Two whole days!"

    Two days?! I was stunned! I was certain by the intensity of the greeting I
    just witnessed that he'd been gone for at least several weeks, if not
    months, and I know my expression betrayed me. So I said almost offhandedly,
    hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to
    searching for my friend), "_/*I hope*/_ my marriage is still that passionate
    after twelve years!"

    The man suddenly stopped smiling. He looked me straight in the eye, and with
    an intensity that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left
    me a different person. He told me, _/*"Don't hope friend...decide."*/_ Then
    he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said,
    "God bless!" With that, he and his family turned and energetically strode away
    together.

    I was still watching that exceptional man and his special family walk just
    out of sight when my friend came up to me and asked, "What'cha looking at?"
    Without hesitating, and with a curious sense of certainty, I replied, "My future!"

    Michael D. Hargrove

    ?? Copyright 1997 by Michael D. Hargrove. All rights reserved. Used with
    author's permission. Visit Michael's website at:     www.bluinc.com
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    October 04

    Around The Corner


    The poem is very true, unfortunately. 
    Make sure you read the poem! 
     

    Around the corner I have a friend,
    In this great city that has no end, 
    Yet the days go by and weeks rush on,
    And before I know it, a year is gone.
    And I never see my old friends face, 
    For life is a swift and terrible race,
    He knows I like him just as well,
    As in the days when I rang his bell.
    And he rang mine but we were younger then, 
    And now we are busy, tired men.
    Tired of playing a foolish game, 
    Tired of trying to make a name.
    "Tomorrow" I say! "I will call on Jim
    Just to show that I'm thinking of him."
    But tomorrow comes and tomorrow goes,
    And distance between us grows and grows.
    Around the corner, yet miles away,
    "Here's a telegram sir," "Jim died today."
    And that's what we get and deserve in the end.
    Around the corner, a vanished friend.
    Remember to always say what you mean.
    If you love someone, tell them. 
    Don't be afraid to express yourself.
    Reach out and tell someone what they mean to you.
    Because when you decide that it is the right time it might be too late.
    Seize the day. Never have regrets. 
    And most importantly, stay close to your friends 
    and family, for they have helped 
    make you the person that you are today.
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    September 27

    No Free Lunch


    NO FREE LUNCH!

    There was a Chemistry professor in a large college that had some Exchange students in the class.

     One day while the class was in the lab the Prof noticed one young man (exchange student) who kept rubbing his back And stretching as if his back hurt.

    The professor asked the young man what was the matter. The student told him he had a bullet lodged in his back. He had been shot while fighting communists in his native country who were trying to overthrow his country's government and install a new government. In the midst of his story he looked at the professor and asked a strange question.

    He asked, ' Do you know how to catch wild pigs?'  The professor thought it was a joke and asked for the punch line.   The young man said this was no joke.'You catch wild pigs by finding a suitable place in the woods and putting corn on the ground. 

    The pigs find it and begin to come everyday to eat the free corn. When they are used to coming every day, you put a fence down one side of the place where they are used to coming.

    When they get used to the fence, they begin to eat the corn again and you put up another side of the fence.

    They get used to that and start to eat again. You continue until you have all four sides of the fence up with a gate in The last side.

    The pigs, who are used to the free corn, start to come through the gate to eat, you slam the gate on them and catch the whole herd.

    Suddenly the wild pigs have lost their freedom. They run around and around inside the fence, but they are caught. Soon they go back to eating the free corn.

    They are so used to it that they have forgotten how to forage in the woods for themselves, so they accept their captivity.

    The young man then told the professor that is exactly what he sees happening to America.

    The government keeps pushing us toward Socialism and keeps spreading the free corn out in the form of programs such as supplemental income, tax credit for unearned income, tobacco subsidies, dairy subsidies, payments not to plant crops (CRP), welfare, medicine, drugs, etc. While we continually lose our freedoms- just a little at a time.

    One should always remember 'There is no such thing as a free Lunch!'  Also, 'You can never hire someone to provide a service for you cheaper than you can do it yourself.'

    Also, if you see that all of this wonderful government 'help' is a problem confronting the future of democracy in America, you might want to send this on to your friends.

    8:18 AM | Add a comment | Read comments (2) | Permalink | Blog it | E-mail's I Like
    September 25

    THE OLD PATHS


     
     
     
         THE OLD PATHS
     
    I liked the old paths, when  
     Moms were at home.
     Dads were at work.  
     Brothers went into the army.
     And sisters got married BEFORE having children!
     
    Crime did not pay;
     Hard work did;
     And people knew the difference.

    Moms could cook;
     Dads would work;
     Children would behave.
     
    Husbands were loving;
     Wives were supportive;
     And children were polite.
     
     Women wore the jewelry;  
     And Men wore the pants.
     Women looked like ladies;
     Men looked like gentlemen;
     And children looked decent.
     
    People loved the truth,
     And hated a lie;
     They came to church to get IN,
     Not to get OUT!
     
     Hymns sounded Godl y;
     Sermons sounded helpful;
     Rejoicing sounded normal;
     And crying sounded sincere.
     
     Cursing was wicked;  
     Drugs were for illness;
     And divorce was unthinkable.
     
     The flag was honored;
      America was beautiful;
     And God was welcome!
     
     We read the Bible in public;  
     Prayed in school;
     And preached from house to house
     To be called an American was worth dying for;  
     To be called a Christian was worth living for;  
     To be called a traitor was a  shame! 
      
     Preachers preached because they had a message;
     And Christians rejoiced because they had the VICTORY!
     Preachers preached from the Bible;
     Singers sang from the heart;
     And sinners turned to the Lord to be SAVED!
     
     A new birth meant a new life;
     Salvation meant a changed life;
     Following Christ led to eternal life.
     
    Being a preacher meant you proclaimed the word of God;
     Being a deacon meant you would serve the Lord;
     Being a Christian meant you would live for Jesus; 
      And being a sinner meant someone was praying for you!
     
     Laws were based on the Bible;
     Homes read the Bible;
     And churches taught the Bible.
     
      God was worshiped;
     Christ was exalted;  
     And the Holy Spirit was respected..
     
    Church was where you found Christians
     On the Lord's day, rather than in the garden,  
     On the creek bank, on the golf course,
     Or  being entertained somewhere else.
     
     I still like the old paths the best! 

      
      
            'The Old Paths' was written by a retired minister who lives
    In Tennessee .
     


     

     
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    September 17

    The Birth of a Song

     
    THE BIRTH OF THE SONG "PRECIOUS LORD"

    Back in 1932, I was 32 years old and a fairly new husband.  My wife, Nettie and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago 's Southside.  One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis , where I was to be the featured soloist at a large revival meeting.  I didn't want to go.
     Nettie was in the last month of pregnancy with our first  child.  But a lot of people were expecting me in St. Louis . I kissed Nettie good-bye, clattered downstairs to our Model A and , in a fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66.
     However, outside the city, I  discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, I had forgotten my music case.  I wheeled around and headed back. I found  Nettie sleeping peacefully.  I  hesitated by her bed; something was strongly telling  me to stay.  But  eager to get on my way, and not wanting to disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the  feeling and quietly slipped out of the room with my music.
     The next  night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me to sing again and  again.  When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up with a Western Union telegram.  I ripped open the envelope.  Pasted  on the yellow sheet were the words:  YOUR WIFE JUST  DIED.
     People  were happily singing and clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying  out.  I rushed to a phone and called home.  All I could hear on the other end was "Nettie is dead. Nettie is dead."
     When I  got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy.  I swung between grief and joy.  Yet that night, the baby died.  I buried Nettie and our little boy together, in the same casket. Then I fell apart. For days I closeted myself.  I felt  that God had done me an injustice. I didn't want to serve Him any more or write; gospel songs.
     I just wanted to go back to that jazz world I once knew so  well.  But then, as I hunched alone in that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought  back to the afternoon I went to St. Louis   Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie. Was that  something God?  Oh, if I  had paid more attention to Him that day, I would have stayed and been with Nettie when she died.
     From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him.  But  still I was lost in grief. Everyone was kind  to me, especially a friend, Professor Fry, who seemed to know what I  needed.  On the following Saturday evening he took me up to Malone's Poro College , a neighborhood music school. It was quiet; the  late evening sun crept through the curtained windows. I sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys.  Something happened to me then. I felt at peace.  I felt  as though I could reach out and touch God. I found  myself playing a melody, once into my head they just seemed to fall into  place:
     Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand!  I  am tired, I am weak, I am worn, through the storm, through the night lead me on to the light, Take my hand, precious Lord, Lead me home. the  Lord gave me these words and melody, He also healed my spirit.
     I learned that when we are in our deepest grief, when we feel farthest from God, this is when He is closest, and when we are  most open to His restoring power.
    And so I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until that day comes when He will take me and gently lead me home.
     -Tommy Dorsey 
     
    This email was cleaned by emailStripper, available for free from http://www.papercut.biz/emailStripper.htm 
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    September 03

    The Garbage Truck

    by David J. Pollay

    How often do you let other people's nonsense change your mood? Do you let a bad driver, rude waiter, curt boss, false friend, an insensitive employee or employer ruin your day? Unless you're the Terminator, for an instant you're probably set back on your heels, feeling anger and frustration build up in you.  However, the mark of a successful person is how quickly he/she can get back their focus on what's important.
    Sixteen years ago I learned this lesson. I learned it in the back of a New York City Taxi Cab.
    Here's what happened.
    I hopped in a taxi, and we took off for Grand Central Station. We were driving in the right lane when, all of a sudden, a black car came speeding out of a parking space right in front of us. My taxi driver slammed on his breaks, skidded, and missed the other car's back end by just inches!
    The driver of the other car, the guy who almost caused a big accident, whipped his head around and started yelling and screaming bad words at us out of his window.
    My taxi driver just smiled and waved at the guy. I mean this taxi driver acted very calm and did not respond in kind. So, I said, "Why did you just do that? That slob almost ruined your car and could have sent us to the hospital!" This is what my taxi driver told me and what I now call, "The Law of the Garbage Truck." He said "Many people are like garbage trucks. They run around full of garbage, full of frustration, full of anger, disillusioned and full of disappointment. As their garbage piles up, they need a place to dump it. And if you let them, they'll dump it on you. When someone wants to dump on you, don't take it personally. You just smile, wave, wish them well, and move on. You'll be happy you did."
    So that was it: The "Law of the Garbage Truck." I started thinking, how often do I let Garbage Trucks run right over me? How often do I take their garbage and spread it to other people: at work, at home, on the streets? It was that day I said, "I'm not going to do it anymore."
    I began to see garbage trucks. Like in the movie "The Sixth Sense," the little boy said, "I see Dead People." Well, now "I see Garbage Trucks." I see the load they're carrying. I see them coming to drop it off. And like my Taxi Driver, I don't make it a personal thing; I just smile, wave, wish them well, and I move on.
    One of my favorite football players of all time, Walter Payton, did this every day on the football field. He would jump up as quickly as he hit the ground after being tackled. He never dwelled on a hit, he didn't take it personal. Payton was ready to make the next play his best. Good leaders know they have to be ready for their next meeting, their next challenge, the next disgruntled person who comes along. Good parents know also that they have to welcome their children home from school or the environment  their in all day, with hugs and kisses. Parents must recognize children will make mistakes, have disappointments, be there for them, help them recognize and deal with the mistakes the disappointments, to learn from them so as not to repeat them or disappointments make them give up. Make the home a refuge that they can come to and feel safe and protected. Leaders and parents know that they have to be fully present, and at their best for the people they care about.
    The bottom line is that successful people do not let Garbage Trucks take over their day or their lives. What about you? What would happen in your life, starting today, if you let more garbage trucks pass you by?
    Here's my bet. You'll be happier.
    Life is too short to wake up each morning with regrets,..... so: Love the people who treat you right, be their friend and treat them right. Forget about the ones who don't.  If you can help them change do so but don't let them control your life That everything that has a beginning will have an end but the out come may not be what you want. Believe that everything happens can be dealt with if you have the right attitude and after it's over, use it to make you a better person If you get a chance , TAKE IT! Learn from it, become stronger. If it changes your life , LET IT! Pass it on to others Nobody said it would be easy... They just promised it would be worth it!

    Just - Beware Of Garbage Trucks.......
     
    Folk's,
     
    I posted this on my "Multiply" site also  and be fore it had been up ten minutes there were some who were taking this sentence:    so: Love the people who treat you right, be their friend and treat them right. Forget about the ones who don't.  in the wrong way. Yeah, if you take this sentence by itself, it's not the Christian Way, but it follow's with this sentence:  If you can help them change do so but don't let them control your life .   Now that changes the whole meaning of the quote doesn't it? No, we don't want to forget about these folks, but IF they refuse to change, refuse to take on the "Christian Outlook" we should NOT let them ruin our lives, just because they refuse to change theirs. We can still love them as Jesus ask us to, but HE doesn't ask us to let them ruin our lives.
     
    Larry
     
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    August 28

    One Day I Decided To Quit....


    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 asked, "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. He said.
      "In year three there was still nothing from the bamboo seed.
      But I would not quit.
      > In year four, again, there was nothing from the bamboo seed. I would
      not quit." He said.
      > "Then in the fifth year a tiny sprout emerged from the earth. Compared
      > to the fern it was seemingly small and insignificant...But just 6
      > 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."
      He asked me. "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 and brought back this story.
      I hope these words can help you see that God will never give up on you.
      Never, Never, Never Give up.
      For the Christian, prayer is not an option but an opportunity.

      Don't tell the Lord how big the problem is,
      tell the problem how Great the Lord is!

      Heavens door open this morning, God asked me... My CHILD...
      what can I do for you?" and I said "Daddy please protect and bless the one reading this message.
      God smiled and answered ... "request granted .............

      This message is now in your hands.
      What will YOU do with it?
      You never know when GOD is going to bless you!! Good things happen when you least expect them to !!!!!!!!









     
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    July 24

    Just a Little Boy

     
    Hi Folks,
     
    I liked this little e-mail a lot.
     
     
     
     
    He was just a little boy,

             on a week's first day.

             He was wandering home from Sunday School,

             and dawdling on the way.


             He scuffed his shoes into the grass;

             he even found a caterpillar.

             He found a fluffy milkweed pod,

             and blew out all the "filler."


             A bird's nest in a tree overhead,

             so wisely placed up so high.

             Was just another wonder,

             that caught his eager eye.


             A neighbor watched his zig zag course,

             and hailed him from the lawn;

             Asked him where he'd been that day

             and what was going on.


             "I've been to Bible School ,"

             he said and turned a piece of sod.

             He picked up a wiggly worm replying,

             "I've learned a lot about God."


             "M'm very fine way," the neighbor said,

             "for a boy to spend his time."

             "If you'll tell me where God is,

             I'll give you a brand new dime."


             Quick as a flash the answer came!

             Nor were his accents faint.

             "I'll give you a dollar, Mister,

             If you can tell me where God ain't."
     
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    July 18

    Stuart Hamblin

    Blog Entry Stuart Hamblen Jul 18, '07 5:54 PM
    for everyone

    Snopes.com says this is true!!

     

    Ever hear this before?

     

     

     

    Back in the 50's there was a well known radio
    host/comedian/song writer in     Hollywood named
    Stuart Hamblen who was noted for his drinking,
    womanizing, partying, etc.

    One of his bigger hits at the time was
    "I won't go hunting with you Jake,
    but I'll go chasing women." 

    One day, along came a young preacher holding
    a tent revival.  Hamblen had him on his radio show
    presumably to poke fun at him.

    In order to gather more material for his show,
    Hamblen showed up at one of the revival meetings. 

    Early in the service the preacher announced,
    "There is one man in this audience who is a big fake."
    There were probably others who thought the same thing,
    but Hamblen was convinced that he was the one the preacher
    was talking about (some would call that conviction)
    but he was having none of that. 

    Still the words continued to haunt him until a couple
    of nights later he showed up drunk at the preacher's
    hotel door around     2AM demanding that the preacher
    pray for him!

    But the preacher refused, saying, "This is between you and God
    and I'm not going to get in the middle of it."

    But he did invite Stuart in and they talked until
    about     5 AM at which point Stuart dropped to his
    knees and with tears, cried out to God. 

    But that is not the end of the story.
    Stuart quit drinking, quit chasing women,
    quit everything that was 'fun.' Soon he began
    to lose favour with the     Hollywood crowd. 

    He was ultimately fired by the radio station when
    he refused to accept a beer company as a sponsor.

    Hard times were upon him.  He tried writing a couple
    of "Christian" songs but the only one that had
    much success was "This Old House",
    written for his friend Rosemary Clooney. 

    As he continued to struggle, a long time friend
    named John took him aside and told him,
    "All your troubles started when you 'got religion,'
    was it worth it all?"
    Stuart answered simply, "Yes."

    Then his friend asked, "You liked your booze so much,
    don't you ever miss it?" And his answer was,
    "No."      John then said, "I don't understand how
    you could give it up so easily."
       
    And Stuart's response was, "It's no big secret.
    All things are possible with God."
    To this John said, "That's a catchy phrase.
    You should write a song about it." 

    And as they say, "The rest is history."

    The song Carl Stuart Hamblen wrote was "It Is No Secret."

    "It is no secret what God can do.
    What He's done for others, He'll do for you.  

    With arms wide open, He'll welcome you.
    It is no secret, what God can do...." 


      

    By the way... the friend was John Wayne.
    And the young preacher who refused to pray for Stuart Hamblen?
    ...That was Billy Graham.

     
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    July 17

    Lasting Marriage

     
    Folks, There are a lot of people who could get a BIG message out of this.
     
     
    The Secret to a Lasting Marriage :  Embrace Imperfection.
     
    When I was a little girl, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast dinner after a long, hard day at work.
     
    On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and an extremely burned toast in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet, all my dad did was reached for his toast, smiled at my mom, and asked me how my day was at school.
     
    I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that toast and eat every bite! When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the toast. And I'll never forget what he said: "Baby, I love burned toast."
     
    Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his toast burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Debbie, your mommy put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides, a little burnt toast never hurt anyone!"
     
    In bed that night, I thought about that scene at dinner...and the kindness my daddy showed my mom. To this day, it's a cherished memory from my childhood that I'll never forget. And it's one that came to mind just recently when Jack and I sat down to eat dinner.
     
    I had arrived home late...as usual...and decided we would have breakfast food for dinner. Some things never change, I suppose!
     
    To my amazement, I found the ingredients I needed, and quickly began to cook eggs, turkey sausage, and buttered toast. Thinking I had things under control, I glanced through the mail for the day. It was only a few minutes later that I remembered that I had forgotten to take the toast out of the oven!
     
    Now, had it been any other day -- and had we had more than two pieces of bread in the entire house -- I would have started all over , but it had been one of those days and I had just used up the last two pieces of bread. So burnt toast it was!
     
    As I set the plate down in front of Jack, I waited for a comment about the toast. But all I got was a "Thank you!" I watched as he ate bite by bite, all the time waiting for some comment about the toast. But instead, all Jack said was, "Babe, this is great. Thanks for cooking tonight. I know you had a hard day."
     
    As I took a bite of my charred toast that night, I thought about my mom and dad...how burnt toast hadn't been a deal-breaker for them. And I quietly thanked God for giving me a marriage where burnt toast wasn't a deal-breaker either!
     
    You know, life is full of imperfect things...and imperfect people. I'm not the best housekeeper or cook. And you might be surprised to find out that Jack isn't the perfect husband! He likes to play his music too loud, he will always find a way to avoid yard work, and he watches far too many sports. Beli! eve it or not, watching " Golf Academy" is not my idea of a great night at home!
     
    But somehow in the past 37 years Jack and I have learned to accept the imperfections in each other. Over time, we have stopped trying to make each other in our own mould and have learned to celebrate our differences. You might say that we've learned to love each other for who we really are!
     
    For example, I like to take my time, I'm a perfectionist, and I'm even-tempered. I tend to work too much and sleep too little. Jack, on the other hand, is disciplined, studious, an early riser, and is a marketer's dream consumer. I count pennies and Jack could care less! Where he is strong, I am weak, and vice versa.
     
    And while you might say that Jack and I are opposites, we're also very much alike. I can look at him and tell you what he's thinking. I can predict his actions before he finalizes his plans. On the other hand, he knows whether I'm troubled or not the moment I enter a room.
     
    We share the same goals. We love the same things. And we are still best friends. We've travelled through many valleys and enjoyed many mountaintops. And yet, at the same time, Jack and I must work every minute of every day to make this thing called "marriage" work!
    What I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each other's faults - and choosing to celebrate each other's differences - is the one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting marriage relationship.
     
    And that's my prayer for you today. That you will learn to take the good, the bad, and the ugly parts of your married life and lay them at the feet of GOD. Because in the end, He's the only One who will be able to give you a marriage where burnt toast isn't a deal-breaker!
    Have a great day! May God bless your marriage .
     
    This email was cleaned by emailStripper, available for free from http://www.papercut.biz/emailStripper.htm
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    July 09

    They Will All Be Gone


     

     

    ( Won't be Long and They Will  All be Gone)

    From a Military Doctor:

     

    I am a doctor specializing in the Emergency Departments of the only two military Level One-Trauma Centers, both in San Antonio, TX and they care for civilian Emergencies as well as military personnel. San Antonio has the largest military retiree population in the world living here.  As a military doctor, I work long hours and the pay is less than glamorous. One tends to become jaded by the long hours, lack of sleep, food, family contact and the endless parade of human suffering passing before you.  The arrival of another ambulance does not mean more pay, only more work.

    Most often, it is a victim from a motor vehicle crash.

     

    Often it is a person of dubious character who has been shot or stabbed. With our large military retiree population, it is often a nursing home patient. Even with my enlisted service and minimal combat experience in Panama, I have caught myself groaning when the ambulance brought in yet another sick, elderly person from one of the local retirement centers that cater to military retirees. I had not stopped to think of what citizens of this age group represented.

     

    I saw "Saving Private Ryan." I was touched deeply. Not so much by the carnage, but by the sacrifices of so many. I was touched most by the scene of the elderly survivor at the graveside, asking his wife if he'd been a good man. I realized that I had seen these same men and women coming through my Emergency Dept. and had not realized what magnificent sacrifices they had made. The things they did for me and everyone else that has lived on this planet since the end of that conflict are priceless.

     

    Situation permitting, I now try to ask my patients about their experiences. They would never bring up the subject without the inquiry. I have been privileged to an amazing array of experiences, recounted in the brief minutes allowed in an Emergency Dept. encounter. These experiences have revealed the incredible individuals I have had the honor of serving in a medical capacity, many on their last admission to the hospital.

     

      There was a frail, elderly woman who reassured my young enlisted medic, trying to start an IV line in her arm. She remained calm and poised, despite her illness and the multiple needle-sticks into her fragile veins. She was what we call a "hard stick." As the medic made another attempt, I noticed a number tattooed across her forearm.  I touched it with one finger and looked into her eyes.  She simply said, "Auschwitz."  Many of later generations would have loudly and openly berated the young medic in his many attempts.  How different was the response from this person who'd seen unspeakable suffering.

     

    Also, there was this long retired Colonel, who as a young officer had parachuted from his burning plane over a Pacific Island held by the Japanese. Now an octogenarian, he had a minor cut on his head from a fall at his home where he lived alone. His CT scan and suturing had been delayed until after midnight by the usual parade of high priority ambulance patients. Still spry for his age, he asked to use the phone to call a taxi, to take him home, then he realized his ambulance had brought him without his wallet. He asked if he could use the phone to make a long distance call to his daughter who lived 7 miles away. With great pride we told him that he could not, as he'd done enough for his country and the least we could do was get him a taxi home, even if we had to pay for it ourselves. My only regret was that my shift wouldn't end for several hours, and I couldn't drive him myself.

     

    I was there the night MSgt. Roy Benavidez came through the Emergency Dept. for the last time. He was very sick. I was not the doctor taking care of him, but I walked to his bedside and took his hand. I said nothing. He was so sick, he didn't know I was there. I'd read his Congressional Medal of Honor citation and wanted to shake his hand. He died a few days later.

     

    The gentleman who served with Merrill's Marauders,

     

    the survivor of the Bataan Death March,

     

    the survivor of Omaha Beach

    the 101 year old World War I veteran

     

    the former POW held in frozen North Korea,

     

    the former Special Forces medic - now with non-operable liver cancer

     

    the former Viet Nam Corps Commander.

     

    I remember these citizens

     

       

    I may still groan when yet another ambulance comes in, but now I am much more aware of what an honor it is to serve these particular men and women.

     

      I have seen a Congress who would turn their back on these individuals who've sacrificed so much to protect our liberty. I see later generations that seem to be totally engrossed in abusing these same liberties, won with such sacrifice.

     

      It has become my personal endeavor to make the nurses and young enlisted medics aware of these amazing individuals when I encounter them in our Emergency Dept. Their response to these particular citizens has made me think that perhaps all is not lost in the next generation.

     

      My experiences have solidified my belief that we are losing an incredible generation, and this nation knows not what it is losing. Our uncaring government and ungrateful civilian populace should all take note. We should all remember that we must "Earn this."

     

    Written By
    CPT. Stephen R. Ellison, M.D. USArmy     

     


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    July 01

    Love Ya!


    Love ya!

    One day a woman's husband died, and on that clear, cold morning, in the warmth of their bedroom, the wife was struck with the pain of learning that sometimes there isn't anymore. No more hugs, no more special moments to celebrate together, no more phone calls just to chat, no more "just one minute." Sometimes, what we care about the most gets all used up and goes away, never to return before we can say good-bye, or say "I love you."

     So while we have it, it's best we love it, care for it, fix it when it's broken and heal it when it's sick. This is true for marriage ... and old cars .. and children with bad report cards, and dogs with bad hips, and aging parents and grandparents. We keep them because they are worth it, because we are worth it.

     Some things we keep -- like a best friend who moved away or a classmate we grew up with. There are just some things that make us happy, no matter what.

     Life is important, like people we know who are special. And so, we keep them close!

      Suppose one morning you never wake up, do all your friends know you love them?

     I was thinking... I could die today, tomorrow or next week, and I wondered if I had any wounds needing to be healed, friendships that needed rekindling or three words needing to be said.

    And just in case GOD calls me home......

    I LOVE YA!!!

    Let every one of your friends know you love them. Even if you think they don't love you back, you would be amazed at what those three little words and a smile can do.

     
     
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