About six years ago, I went to the Poconos for a winter retreat with
my church. It was a small, simple gathering of about forty
kids.
We were not yet teens but slowly coming to realize ourselves as more
than just children.
Since I was new to the church, a few friends of mine gave me a basic overview
on the kids of our youth group. I can still remember a few random
faces and the descriptions that went with them:
"Oh, that's so-and-so. He's such a pussy; he wet
the bed at last year's retreat." or "That's
the kid that kicked so-and-so's butt cuz he bothered his sister."
Yet the one that haunts me with such clarity to this day is of a little
girl, probably in the third grade at the time. With uneven
locks of greasy hair adorning her
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How often, Lord, I've wanted life
to be as I preferred,
impatient to reach all my goals,
insisting I be heard.
How many times I questioned You,
embarking on a feat,
unwilling to be passenger,
but in the driver's seat.
How seldom I was patient
as I begged that life be calm,
not believing all along
that I was in Your palm.
How fast possessions slip away,
though often I would cling
to things thought safe instead of trusting
what Your will would bring.
Be with me, Lord, as I search for
another hill to climb.
I know rewards will come to me,
all in the Lord's due time.
One day, while I was lying on a massage table in a dark,
quiet room waiting for an appointment, a wave of longing swept over
me. I checked to make sure I was awake and not dreaming, and I saw that
I was as far removed from a dreamy state as one could possibly be. Each
thought I had was like a drop of water disturbing a still pond, and
I marveled at the peacefulness of each passing moment.
Suddenly my mother’s face appeared - my mother, as she
had been before Alzheimer’s disease had stripped her of her mind, her
humanity, and 50 pounds. Her magnificent silver hair crowned her sweet
face. She was so real and so close I felt I could reach out and touch
her. I even smelled the fragrance of Joy, her favorite perfume. She
seemed to be waiting and did not speak.
I said, "Oh, Mother, I’m so sorry that you had to suffer
with that horrible disease."
She tipped her head slightly to one side
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One of God’s main jobs is
making people. He makes them to replace the ones that die so there will
be enough people to take care of things here on earth.
He doesn’t make grown-ups, just babies. I
think because they are smaller and easier to make. That way, He doesn’t
have to take up His valuable time teaching them to talk and walk, He can
just leave that to mothers and fathers.
God’s second most important job is listening to
prayers. An awful lot of this goes on, since some people, like preachers
and things, pray at times besides bedtime. God doesn’t have time to listen
to the radio or TV on account of this. Since He hears everything,
not only prayers, there must be a terrible lot of noise in His ears, unless
He has thought
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I will have confidence in myself and put my trust
in God.
I will have courage for the big things and patience
for the small things.
I will admit mistakes, learn forgiveness, and go
on with the game.
I will not call myself a loser or a failure until
I've failed to try.
I will set sound, worthy goals and work for them
one day at a time and one play at a time.
I will do what I can and not worry about scoring,
winning, and making the big plays, because just doing my best and playing
fair is what really makes me a winner, both in life and on the playing
field.
The uniformed waiter returns to his side and asks, "Would you like to
go ahead and order, sir?" The man has, after all, been waiting since seven
o'clock -- almost half an hour.
"No, thank you," the man smiles. "I'll wait for her a while longer.
How about some more coffee?"
"Certainly, sir."
The man sits, his clear blue eyes gazing straight through the flowered
centerpiece. He fingers his napkin, allowing the sounds of light chatter,
tinkling silverware, and mellow music to fill his mind. He is dressed
in sport coat and tie. His dark brown hair is neatly combed, but one stray
lock insists on dropping to his forehead. The scent of his cologne adds
to his clean cut image. He is dressed up enough to make a companion feel
important, respected, loved. Yet he is not so formal as to make one uncomfortable.
It seems that he has taken every precaution to make others feel at ease
with him.
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Lord when I feel lost and alone in this dark world
and when I feel there isn't anybody else around
Lord when I feel your light is nowhere to be found
that's when I remember your hand is reaching down
I now realize I need to give everything up
and concentrate on the things that really matter
when Satan comes my way my heart wont be shattered
so when I stop to pray my enemies will scatter
thank you lord for keeping me sheltered in your arm
you've guided me in the way of truth and helped me too
you've gave me the reassurance to make it through
you've been a close friend every time I've needed you
Lord I know that you've never given up on me
that is why you died on that old-rugged tree
I promise to keep my purity for God's time.
I can do this with Christ who strengthens me.
Sufficient is God's grace.
I promise to wait on God.
I will seek him in the morning and all day.
I will trust my Lord Jesus and obey.
I will kiss no other man but you.
I pray God forbid me from evil.
I will allow God to prepare me for you.
God holds the key of my heart.
He knows exactly whom to give it.
Dear man of God, I believe in you.
I believe that God will bring us together.
I will not listen to ungodly council.
But I will open my ears to the people who point me to God.
"Let integrity and uprightousness preserve me,
preserve me, for I wait for you." (Ps.25:21)
Keep me pure everyday. Jesus help me.
Father, you came to me first, not as God, nor creator,
but as a friend.
You have given me hope when I had none.
Shared your love when I had none to share and held me safe in your arms
of eternity.
You have opened up the doors to my soul and shown me that which is, was
and could be.
I love thee beyond all.
For you are the open hand, the whisper in my silence, the light in the
darkness.
And I my Lord God, am but a shadow in your light, an echo from a word
passed, a child lost in a world of children.
There was a professor of philosophy at USC who was a deeply committed atheist.
His primary goal for one required
class was to spend the entire semester attempting to prove that God
couldn't exist.
His students were always afraid to argue with him because of his impeccable
logic.
For twenty years he had taught this class
and no one had ever had the courage to go against him. Sure, some had
argued in class at times, but no one had ever *really gone against him*
(you will see what I mean later). Noboby would go against him because
he had a reputation.
At the end of every semester, on the last day he would say to the class
of 300 students, "
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