Five Jews Who Have Changed the Way We See the World

Moses: The law is everything
Jesus: Love is everything
Marx: Money is everything
Freud: Sex is everything
Einstein: Everything is relative

Friends vs Best Friends

Friend: calls your parents by mr. and mrs.
Best friend: calls your parents mom and dad.

Friend: has never seen you cry
Best friend: has always had the best shoulder to cry on

Friend: never asks for anything to eat or drink
Best friend: opens the fridge and makes herself at home

Friend: asks you to write down your number.
Best friend: they ask you for their number (cuz they can't remember it)

Friend: borrows your stuff for a few days then gives it back.
Best friend: has a closet full of your stuff

Friend: only knows a few things about you
Best friend: could write a biography on your life story

Friend: will leave you behind if that is what the crowd is doing
Best friend: will always go with you

If I Had My Life To Live Over

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten the popcorn in the GOOD living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up! on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding patter if I wasn’t there for the day.
I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn’t show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I’d have cherished every moment realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, “Later, now go get washed up for dinner.”
There would have been more “I Love You’s” and more “I’m sorry’s” but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute ….. look at it and really see it… live it. And never give it back.

by Erma Bombeck

A Perfect Choice

Most women become mothers by choice, a few by social pressures, and a couple by accident.
Did you ever wonder how mothers are chosen?
Somehow I visualize God hovering over earth selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to make notes in a giant ledger. Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles, “Give her a premature child.”
The angel is curious. “Why this one, God? She is so happy.”
“Exactly,” smiles God. “Could I give a premature child to a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel.”
“But has she patience?” asks the angel.
“I don’t want her to have too much patience or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she’ll handle it. I watched her today. She has that feeling of self and independence that is so rare and necessary in a mother.”
“But Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.”
God smiles. “No matter. I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness.”
The angel gasps. “Selfishness? Is that a virtue?”
God nods. “If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she’ll never survive. Yes, there is a woman whom I will bless with a child in a less than perfect way. She doesn’t realize it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a ‘spoken word’. She will never consider a ‘step’ ordinary. When her child says ‘Mama’ for the first time, she will be present at a miracle and know it! She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.
“And what about her patron saint?” asks the angel, his pen poised in mid-air.
God smiles. “A mirror will suffice.”

by Erma Bombeck

Stephen King on the Power of Giving

Prolific author Stephen King made a speech at the Vassar College commencement on May 20, 2001. He entitled it "Scaring You to Action" and told how two years earlier he had been lying in a ditch by a country road, seriously injured after being hit by a van as he walked beside the road in June 1999. "I had a MasterCard in my wallet, but when you're lying in the ditch with broken glass in your hair, no one accepts MasterCard."
On that day and in the following months, he got a painful but important insight into many of life's simple truths: "We came in naked and broke. We may be dressed when we go out, but we're just as broke."
Of all the power most Americans have, King said, "the greatest is undoubtedly the power of compassion, the ability to give. We have enormous resources in this country ... but they are only yours on loan, only yours to give for a short while ... I want you to consider making your lives one long gift to others, and why not? All you have is on loan anyway. All you want to get at the getting place, from the Maserati you may dream about to the retirement fund some broker will try to sell you on, none of that is real. All that lasts is what you pass on. The rest is smoke and mirrors."
King invited the audience to imagine a typical American backyard, with mom, dad, and the kids enjoying a delicious barbecue next to their swimming pool. "And standing around that fence, looking in, are emaciated men and women, starving children. They are silent. They only watch."

J. R. R. Tolkien on Evil and the Purposes of God

J. R. R. Tolkien, the author of The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy, made clear in his private writings he intended to proclaim a Christian message through his fictional writings.
Tolkien lived through the two world wars, yet he never lost his faith that those catastrophes the devil intends for evil, God turns to good. He embedded that faith in the very creation of his famous imaginative world.
In the posthumously published book The Silmarillion, Tolkien has the spirits sing Middle-earth into existence. The melody of Illuvatar (God) was "deep and wide and beautiful, but slow and blended with an immeasurable sorrow, from which its beauty chiefly came."
Melkor (Satan) interfered with a loud, brash tune, trying to "drown the other music by the violence of its voice." But the "most triumphant notes" of Melkor's discordant song were "taken up by the other and woven into its own solemn pattern."
As a man who himself had faced the monstrous evil that lay behind war, Tolkien didn't sugarcoat his message. He knew the horrific events God uses for good are no less horrific for those who experience them. In The Silmarillion, he put it this way: "Evil may yet be good to have been, and yet remain evil."
It is hard to speak of the positive results of catastrophic events when people we have loved are dead and landmarks we have known are destroyed. For example, we can never see 9/11 as anything but evil. Yet, as our minds reawaken to the horror of war, the same horror that helped impart realism and strength to the writings of J. R. R. Tolkien, we may rediscover the bedrock source of that strength - the knowledge of the God who, through and only through an awful death at the hands of sinful men, rose and redeemed humankind.
Chris Armstrong, editor of Christian History, "9/11, History, and the True Story," Christian History newsletter (13- 9-02)

A Franciscan Blessing

May God bless you with discomfort at easy answers, half truths and superficial relationships so that you may live deep within your heart. May God bless you with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that you may wish for justice, freedom, and peace. May God bless you with enough foolishness to believe that you can make a difference in this world, so that you can do what others claim cannot be done.

Trusting God When Miracles Don't Come

In Holding On to Hope, Nancy Guthrie writes:
We had Hope for 199 days. We loved her. We enjoyed her richly and shared her with everyone we could. We held her during seizures. Then we let her go.
The day after we buried Hope, my husband said to me, "You know, I think we expected our faith to make this hurt less, but it doesn't." Our faith gave us an incredible amount of strength and encouragement while we had Hope, and we were comforted by the knowledge that she is in heaven. Our faith keeps us from being swallowed by despair.
But I don't think it makes our loss hurt any less.
Early on in my journey, I said to God, "Okay, if I have to go through this, then give me everything. Teach me everything you want to teach me through this. Don't let this incredible pain be wasted in my life!"
God ... allows good and bad into our lives and we can trust him with both.... Trusting God when the miracle does not come, when the urgent prayer gets no answer, when there is only darkness - this is the kind of faith God values most of all....
I believe that the purpose of Hope's short life, and my life, was and is to glorify God.

A Great Influence in Building Coalition

I heard this today at lunch: Ninety days after Desert Storm, the New York Times described how the original international coalition had been put together by President Bush the Elder. The secret? All the international leaders he'd met during his years of government service. But there's more. He had maintained those relationships through thank-you notes he wrote after every meeting and conversation. Where did he learn this? From his mother who taught him at a very young age to write thank-you notes for everything. The point? A mother's influence may have been one of the greatest weapons in the Desert Storm war.

The Seven "Ups"

1. Wake Up !! Decide to have a good day. Psalms 118:24
2. Dress Up !! ......put on a smile. I Samuel 16:7
3. Shut Up!! Say nice things and learn to listen. Proverbs 13:3
4. Stand Up!!... For what you believe in. Galatians 6:9-10
5. Look Up !! ....To the Lord. Philippians 4:13
6. Reach Up !! ....For something higher. Proverbs 3:5-6
7. Lift Up !! ....Your Prayers. Philippians 4:6 (God answers knee-mail!)

On the Other Side

A sick man turned to his doctor, as he was preparing to leave the examination room and said, "Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side."
Very quietly, the doctor said, "I don't know."
"You don't know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?"
The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side of which came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.
Turning to the patient, the doctor said, "Did you notice my dog? He's never been in this room before. He didn't know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear. I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing...I know my Master is there and that is enough."

The Time

I knelt to pray but not for long,
I had too much to do.
I had to hurry and get to work
For bills would soon be due.
So I knelt and said a hurried prayer,
And jumped up off my knees.
My Christian duty was now done
My soul could rest at ease.
All day long I had no time
To spread a word of cheer.
No time to speak of Christ to friends,
They'd laugh at me I'd fear.
No time, no time, too much to do,
That was my constant cry,
No time to give to souls in need
But at last the time, the time to die.
I went before the Lord,
I came, I stood with downcast eyes.
For in his hands God held a book;
It was the book of life.
God looked into his book and said
"Your name I cannot find.
I once was going to write it down...
But never found the time"

Celebrating Holland - I'm Home

I have been in Holland for over a decade now. It has become home. I have had time to catch my breath, to settle and adjust, to accept something different than I'd planned. I reflect back on those years of past when I had first landed in Holland. I remember clearly my shock, my fear, my anger - the pain and uncertainty.
In those first few years, I tried to get back to Italy as planned, but Holland was where I was to stay. Today, I can see how far I have come on this unexpected journey. I have learned so much more. But, this too has been a journey of time. I worked hard. I bought new guidebooks. I learned a new language and I slowly found my way around this new land. I have met others whose plans had changed like mine, and who could share my experience. We supported one another and some have become very special friends. Some of these fellow travellers had been in Holland longer than I and were seasoned guides, assisting me along the way. Many have encouraged me. Many have taught me to open my eyes to the wonder and gifts to behold in this new land. I have discovered a community of caring. Holland wasn't so bad.
I think that Holland is used to wayward travellers like me and grew to become a land of hospitality reaching out to welcome, to assist, and to support newcomers like me in this new land. Over the years, I've wondered what life would have been like if I'd landed in Italy as planned. Would life have been easier? Would it have been as rewarding? Would I have learned some of the important lessons I hold today?
Sure, this journey has been more challenging and at times I would (and still do) stomp my feet and cry out in frustration and protest. And yes, Holland is slower paced than Italy and less flashy than Italy, but this too has been an unexpected gift. I have learned to slow down in ways too and look closer at things with a new appreciation for the remarkable beauty of Holland with its' tulips, windmills, and Rembrandts.
I have come to love Holland and call it Home.
I have become a world traveller and discovered that it doesn't matter where you land. What is more important is what you make of your journey and how you see and enjoy the very special, the very lovely, things that Holland or any land has to offer.
(follow-up to the original "Welcome to Holland")

Welcome to Holland

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this...
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.

Emily Pearly Kingsley

A Child's Plea

Today I did my maths and science -
I toasted my bread. I halved and quartered, counted, measured. Used my eyes and ears and hands, I added and subtracted on the way. I used magnets, blocks and memory tray. I learnt about a rainbow and how to weigh.
So - Please don't say "anything in your bag today?"
You see I'm sharing as I play. I learn to listen and speak clearly when I talk, to wait my turn, and when inside to walk. To put my thoughts into a phrase. To guide a crayon through a maze. To find my name and write it down. To do it with a smile and not a frown. To put my pasting brush away. So please don't say "What nothing in your bag today?"
I've learnt about a snail and a worm. Remembered how to take my turn. Helped a friend when he was stuck. Learnt that water runs off a duck. Looked at words from left to right. Agreed to differ, not to fight.
So please don't say "Did you only play today?"
Yes I played the whole day through. I played to learn the things I do. I seek a problem, find a clue and work out for myself just what to do. My teachers set the scene and stay near by. To help me when I really try. They are there to pose the problems and help me think. I hope they will keep me floating and never let me sink. All this is in my head and not my bag. It makes me sad to hear you say.
"Haven't you done anything today?"
When you attend your meetings and do your work today. I will remember not to say to you. "What nothing in your bag? What did you do?"

High Flight

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds - and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
- John Gillespie Magee Jr.
An American serving in the Royal Canadian Air Force, Magee died in 1941 in an air crash. He was 19 years old

The Pit

A man fell into a pit and couldn't get himself out.
* A subjective person came along and said, "I feel for you down there."
* An objective person walked by and said, "It's logical that someone would fall down there."
* A Pharisee said, "Only bad people fall into pits."
* A mathematician calculated how he fell into the pit.
* A news reporter wanted the exclusive story on the pit.
* An IRS agent asked if he was paying taxes on the pit.
* A self-pitying person said, "You haven't seen anything until you've seen my pit!"
* A holier-than-thou person said, "You deserve your pit."
* A Christian Scientist said, "The pit is just in your mind."
* A psychologist noted, "Your mother and father are to blame for your being in that pit."
* A self-esteem therapist said, "Believe in yourself and you can get out of that pit."
* An optimist said, "Things could get worse."
* A pessimist claimed, "Things WILL get worse."
* Jesus, seeing the man, took him by the hand and lifted him out of the pit.

In response to Vietnam

I come to this magnificent house of worship tonight because my conscience leaves me no other choice. I join with you in this meeting because I am in deepest agreement with the aims and work of the organization which has brought us together: Clergy and Laymen Concerned about Vietnam. The recent statement of your executive committee are the sentiments of my own heart and I found myself in full accord when I read its opening lines: "A time comes when silence is betrayal." That time has come for us in relation to Vietnam.
The truth of these words is beyond doubt but the mission to which they call us is a most difficult one. Even when pressed by the demands of inner truth, men do not easily assume the task of opposing their government's policy, especially in time of war. Nor does the human spirit move without great difficulty against all the apathy of conformist thought within one's own bosom and in the surrounding world. Moreover when the issues at hand seem as perplexed as they often do in the case of this dreadful conflict we are always on the verge of being mesmerized by uncertainty; but we must move on.
Some of us who have already begun to break the silence of the night have found that the calling to speak is often a vocation of agony, but we must speak. We must speak with all the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision, but we must speak. And we must rejoice as well, for surely this is the first time in our nation's history that a significant number of its religious leaders have chosen to move beyond the prophesying of smooth patriotism to the high grounds of a firm dissent based upon the mandates of conscience and the reading of history. Perhaps a new spirit is rising among us. If it is, let us trace its movement well and pray that our own inner being may be sensitive to its guidance, for we are deeply in need of a new way beyond the darkness that seems so close around us.

- Martin Luther King

Big Mud Puddles and Sunny Yellow Dandelions

When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard. My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.
When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me, I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away. My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.
When I hear music I love, I know I can't carry a tune and don't have much rhythm so I sit self-consciously and listen. My kids feel the beat and move to it. They sing out the words. If they don't know them, they make up their own.
When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it. I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk. My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it, until they fall to the ground laughing.
When I pray, I say thee and thou and grant me this, give me that. My kids say, "Hi God! Thanks for my toys and my friends. Please keep the bad dreams away tonight. Sorry, I don't want to go to Heaven yet. I would miss my Mommy and Daddy."
When I see a mud puddle I step around it. I see muddy shoes and dirty carpets.
My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross, and worms to play with.
I wonder if we are given kids to teach or to learn from? No wonder God loves the little children! Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.
I wish you Big Mud Puddles and Sunny Yellow Dandelions!!!
"Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away."

Two Different Eras

When Robinson Crusoe was a castaway, the novel says, he prayed and worshiped and wrote in his journal about God's providential work, even in his exile. When Tom Hanks was a castaway, in a movie by that name, he spoke only to a volleyball, his idol-companion Wilson.

If I Had My Life to Live Over

I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded. I would have eaten the popcorn in the "GOOD" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace. I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth. I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed. I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have sat on the lawn with my children and not worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for the day. I would never have bought anything just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil or was guaranteed to last a lifetime. Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy, I'd have cherished every moment realizing that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle. When my kids kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now go get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's"
......but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute
.....look at it and really see it
... live it ...
and never give it back.

by Erma Bombeck

Too Busy?

Satan called a world wide convention. In his opening address to his evil angels, he said, "we can't keep Christians from going to church. "We can't keep them from reading their bibles and knowing the truth. We can't even keep them from forming an intimate abiding relationship experience in Christ. If they gain that connection with Jesus, our power over them is broken. So let them go to their churches; let them have their conservative lifestyles, but steal their time, so they can't gain that relationship with Jesus Christ. This is what I want you to do, angels, Distract them from gaining hold of their Savior and maintaining that vital connection throughout their day! "
"How shall we do this?" shouted his angels.
"Keep them busy in the non essentials of life and invent innumerable schemes to occupy their minds, " he answered. "Tempt them to spend, spend, spend, and borrow, borrow, borrow. Persuade the wives to go to work for long hours and the husbands to work 6-7 days each week. 10- 12 hours a day, so they can afford their empty lifestyle. Keep them from spending time with their children. As their family fragments, soon their home will offer no escape from the pressures of work! Over- stimulate their minds so that they cannot hear that still small voice.
Entice them to play the radio or cassette player whenever they drive. To keep the TV, VCR, CD's and their computers going constantly in their home and see to it that every store and restaurant in the world plays non biblical music constantly. This will jam their minds and break that union with Christ."
Fill the coffee tables with magazines and newspapers. Pound their minds with the news 24 hours a day. Invade their driving moments with billboards. Flood their mailboxes with junk mail, mail order catalogs, sweepstakes and every kind of newsletter and promotional product services and false hopes. Keep skinny, beautiful models on the magazines so the husbands will believe that external beauty is what's important, and they'll become dissatisfied with their wives. Ha! That will fragment those families quickly!"
Even in their recreation, let them be excessive. Have them return from their recreation exhausted, disquieted and unprepared for the coming week. Send them to amusement parks, sporting events, concerts and movies instead. Keep them busy, busy, busy! And when they meet for spiritual fellowship, involve them in gossip and small talk so that they leave with troubled consciences and unsettled emotions. 'Go ahead let 'em be involved in soul winning; but crowd their lives with so many good causes they have no time to seek power from Jesus. Soon they will be working in their own strength, sacrificing their health and family for the good of the cause. It will work! It will work!"
It was quite a convention.
The evil angels went eagerly to their assignments causing Christians everywhere to get more busy and more rushed, going here and there.

The Donkey

One day a farmer's donkey fell down into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally he decided the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.
He invited all his neighbours to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well.
At first, the donkey realised what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement, he quieted down. A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well, and was astonished at what he saw.
With every shovel of dirt that hit his back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up. As the farmer's neighbours continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up.
Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and trotted off!
Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a stepping stone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up!
Shake it off and take a step up!
Remember the five simple rules to be happy:
1. Free your heart from hatred.
2. Free your mind from worries.
3. Live simply.
4. Give more.
5. Expect less.
The donkey later came back and kicked the living daylights out of the farmer who tried to bury him.
Moral: When you try to cover your ass, it always comes back to get you.

PICTURES OF THE AFTERLIFE ars moriendi

Over the hills the snow
has been falling for a long time.

And your body,
full of small
falling journeys
from which I cannot save you,
has begun its slender
and unholy unfolding.

Outside your room
the sane, ordinary chatter of starlings
is like that brief
volley of rain across the window after dark:
a small, comfortable sound
into which we wake, which stands against
all that wide remoteness we discover
in things that have been falling
for a long time. And yet you are so full
with the bird-like, invisible wisdom
of light and distance, and I am trying
so hard to think of less terrible
or beautiful things.

by Jude Nutter

Thanksgiving During The Depression

William Stidger was seated with a group of friends in a restaurant. They were talking about the depression. A minister in the group said, "I have to preach a sermon on Thanksgiving Day. I want to say something affirmative, but what can I say at a time like this?" As the minister spoke, Stidger said it was like the Spirit of God spoke to him: "Why don't you give thanks to those people who have been a blessing in your life and affirm them during this terrible time?"
He thought about a schoolteacher very dear to him, who had gone out of her way to put a great love of literature and verse in him. It affected all his writings and his preaching. So he sat down and wrote to her. It was only days until he got a reply in a feeble scrawl. "My Dear Willy" - Stidger says at that time he was 50, and no one had called him Willy for a long time, so just the opening sentence warmed his heart. Here's the letter:
"My Dear Willy: I can't tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my eighties, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely, and like the last leaf of autumn lingering behind." Listen to this sentence, will you? "You'll be interested to know that I taught in school for more than fifty years, and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue, cold morning, and it cheered me as nothing has done in many years."
Stidger says, "I'm not sentimental, but I found myself weeping over that note." Then he thought of a kindly bishop, now retired, who had recently faced the death of his wife and was all alone. This bishop had given him advice and counsel and love when he first began his ministry. So he sat down and wrote the old bishop. In two days a reply came back.
"My Dear Will: Your letter was so beautiful, so real, that as I sat reading it in my study, tears fell from my eyes, tears of gratitude. Before I realized what I was doing, I rose from my chair and I called her name to share it with her, forgetting she was gone. You'll never know how much your letter has warmed my spirit. I have been walking around in the glow of your letter all day long."

by David A. Seamands, "Instruction for Thanksgiving"

First they came for the Jews

First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out
because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no-one left to speak out
for me.

by Pastor Niemoller

I and You

I wept today and you will weep tomorrow.
Maybe you've wept for your husband and tomorrow you'll weep for your son.
Let me tell you, I've already wept for both my son and husband.

I wish I could walk into every house around carrying within me anguish and heartache and mourning.
Come, mother of Ibrahim and mother of Itzhak, let's weep together, you and me.
Longing for our loved ones unites us, you and me.
Motherhood unites us, you and me.
The heart aches.
Let's remember if in life there is no place for us on this earth,
We have place enough under it.
Let's pray together, mother of Ibrahim and mother of Itzhak.
You and I are the conscience.
You and I are love and peace.
You and I are the bridge to truth.

- a Palestinian mother

When I say, "I am a Christian,"

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I'm not shouting "I am saved."
I'm whispering "I was lost";
That is why I chose this way.

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble,
And need someone to be my guide.

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak,
And pray for strength to carry on.

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed,
And cannot ever pay the debt.

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I'm not claiming to be perfect.
My flaws are too visible,
But God believes I'm worth it.

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches,
Which is why I speak His name.

When I say, "I am a Christian,"
I do not wish to judge.
I have no authority;
I only know I'm loved.

- by Carol S. Wimmer

My Doubts, My Fears, are Creating Walls

O my Beloved, though I have turned from You,
continue to enfold me with your love;
Be gracious to me, Heart of my heart,
for I am sad and weary.
Surround me with your healing Light,
that my body, mind, and soul might heal.
How long must I wait, O Love?

I open the door of my heart to You,
my Beloved,
Enter in and imbue me with your steadfast Love.
I shall remember You all my days;
I shall sing praises to You throughout the nights.

I am tired of so many fears;
I cry myself to sleep at night;
grief and feelings of guilt
bedim my eyes with tears;
All my doubts, my fears, are creating walls
so that I know not love.

Depart from me,
you enemies of wholeness,
for the Beloved is aware of my cry;
Love has heard my prayer;
and hastens to answer my call.
Though my fears are running for cover,
yet they shall be transformed
by Love;
All that was in darkness shall come
into the Light.

- From Nan C. Merrill, "Psalms for Praying"

Feed the Wolf

An old Cherokee chief is teaching his grandson about life: "A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. "It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.
"One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.
"The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"
The old chief simply replied, "The one you feed."

Endurance

Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory - Philip Yancey