Attitude Is Everything
by Francie Baltazar-Schwartz
Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something positive to
say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!"
He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant.
The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was
having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing
this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't
be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say
to myself, Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a
bad mood.' I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can
choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to
accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life."
"Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested.
"Yes it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation
is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to
be in a good mood or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life." I reflected on what Jerry
said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but often thought
about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard that Jerry did
something you are never supposed to do in a restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was
held up at gun point by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand, shaking from nervousness,
slipped off the combination. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and
rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from
the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry about six months after the accident.
When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?"
I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The
first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then,
as I lay on the floor, I remembered that I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I
chose to live.
"Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked.
Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they
wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really
scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man.'
"I knew I needed to take action."
"What did you do?" I asked.
"Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was
allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I replied. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took
a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them, 'I am choosing to live. Operate on me as
if I am alive, not dead."
Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him
that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.
The Balloon
author unknown
Everywhere he went, the man carried brightly colored balloons. He enjoyed watching them float above his head.
And it was easy to hold the string in his hand or wrap it around his wrist and take his colorful balloons wherever
he went. The other people where he worked were accustomed to seeing them. They didn't mind; it brightened the office
a little. Even at night the balloons would float above the man as he slept.
One day he went to the fair and had a great time. At the fair he could blend into the atmosphere of the rides and
lights and noise. Oh, sometimes people tried to buy his balloons, thinking he was a vendor, but of course he wouldn't
sell even one.
At one of the booths he filled in a ticket to see if he could win a free ocean cruise. He certainly didn't plan
on winning, but it wouldn't hurt to try. Yet two weeks later a telegram came, he had won! He would enjoy great
entertainment and the world's finest chef providing his meals. Talk about excited! The man started packing immediately.
He was ready to go days before it was time to leave.
On the morning of the big day, he called a taxi and had the driver take him to the dock very slowly. He had to
go slowly because the balloons wouldn't all fit in the taxi and he had to hold some of them out the window. At
the dock he unloaded his luggage, went aboard ship, and was welcomed by the officials who had planned his trip.
They even had someone take his suitcases down to his cabin while he stayed on deck and enjoyed the activity. The
ship was crowded. Many people were aboard just to say good-bye to friends. Confetti, horns, streamers--and lots
of balloons. He felt right at home.
Eventually the visitors left and the voyage was begun. It was great! Sailing on a big ocean liner was really refreshing.
It also made him very hungry. Someone told the balloon man that the evening meal was in just one hour--a welcome
relief!
The balloon man, still clutching his balloons and refusing to part with even one, eagerly awaited the dinner bell
of this luxury cruise.
When they rang the bell, he started to walk toward the dining room on the second deck. The aroma of the food was
so enticing. There was one problem, though. Whoever had designed the ship hadn't left enough room for a man with
a handful of balloons to get down the passageway. You could do it if you released some of the balloons, but the
balloon man just couldn't do that. He had seen some crackers and cheese on the upper deck earlier, so he went back
and ate that instead. It was good. Maybe not as good as the chef's dinner but it was good enough. Besides, he had
his balloons. That night the sunset was beautiful and it was exciting to walk along the deck. But it sure got cold
quickly after that. Sea air not only makes you hungry, it makes you tired as well. He asked one of the ship's crew
where his room was, and the crewman took him down a wide hall and opened the door of his cabin.
It was beautiful. They had given him one of the classiest rooms on the ship. He could see that the interior decorating
was the best. And the bed looked inviting. Unfortunately, the door to the cabin was so designed that he couldn't
get all the balloons in without breaking some. He tried, but it just wouldn't work.
Back on deck he found some blankets and a deck chair. He tied the balloons around his wrist and the arm of the
chair and tried to sleep. The next morning he was still tired. All that day he ate crackers and cheese and that
night he slept on deck again.
The next morning the balloon man received an engraved invitation from the captain of the ship. He had been invited
to sit at the captain's table and enjoy the specialty of the world famous chef. He would prepare it especially
for the balloon man. All that day the man watched as the crew made preparations for the evening banquet, and at
8:00 p.m. the ships bell rang and the passengers began to go to the dining room. The man watched them go. Soon
he could hear the murmur of voices, the sound of silverware and the clink of glasses. The aroma of the food became
even more enticing.
He stood at the end of the passage way for some time. Finally he walked to the back of the ship. He could still
hear the dinner in progress. He reach in his pocket and felt the engraved invitation. He knew there was a special
place reserved for him at the captain's table. Then he looked up at his balloons. It was hard to do, but slowly--very,
very slowly (he hadn't unclenched his hand for years)--one at a time he uncurled his fingers. One by one the balloons
began to drift away.
As he watched, the wind caught them and blew them out of sight. The man turned and walked down the passageway.
That night, as a guest at the captain's table, he enjoyed the finest meal and the best companionship he'd ever
known.
Are you hanging on to a handful of balloons that keep you from being close to Jesus? What are the names of your
balloons? Are they friends? Bad habits? Sex? Possessions? Your pride? Your popularity? Maybe it's time to just
let those balloons go so that you can enjoy the relationship with Christ that is yours for the taking. "Let
us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles us" (Hebrews
12:1).
Beware The Lord's Prayer
author unknown
Our Father who art in heaven.....
"Yes?"
Don't disturb me. I am praying.
"But you called Me!"
Called you? I didn't call you. I am praying to "Our Father who art in heaven".
"There! You did it again!"
But I didn't mean anything by it. I was, you know, just saying my prayers for the day. I always say the Lord's
prayer. It makes me feel good... sort of like getting a job done.
"All right. Go on."
Hallowed be Thy Name....
"Hold it. What do you mean by that?"
By what?
"By hallowed be Thy name."
I mean.... it means..... Good grief! I don't know what it means... How should I know? It's just part of the
prayer. By the way, what does it mean?
"It means honored, holy, wonderful."
Ah! That makes sense. I never thought about what hallowed meant before.....
Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as in heaven....
"Do you really mean that?"
Of course! Why not?
"What are you going to do about it?"
Do? Nothing. I suppose I just think it would be rather good if you got control of everything down here as you
have up there.
"Have I got control over you?"
Well, I do go to church.
"That isn't what I asked you! What about the habit of laziness you have? And your bad temper? You've really
got a problem there, you know. And then, there's the way you spend your money all on yourself. And what about the
kind of books you read?"
Stop picking on me! I am just as good as some of the rest of those hypocrites down at the church.
"Excuse Me. I thought you were praying for My will to be done. If that is to happen, it will have to start
with the ones who are really praying for it. Like you, for example."
Oh, all right! I guess I do have some habits now that you mention them. I could probably name some others.
"So could I!"
I haven't thought about it very much until now. But I really would like to cut out some of those things. I would
like to, you know, be really free.
"Good. Now we're getting somewhere. We'll work together, you and I. Some victories can really be won. I
am proud of you."
Look, Lord, I need to finish up here. This is taking a lot longer than it usually does. Give us this day our
daily bread....
"You need to cut out the bread. You're overweight as it is."
Hey, wait a minute. What is this? Criticize me, eh? Here I was doing my religious duty and all of a sudden you
break in and remind me of all my habits.
"Praying is a dangerous thing. You could wind up changed, you know. That's what I'm trying to get across
to you. You called Me and here I am. It's too late to stop now. Keep on praying. I'm interested in the next part
of your prayer. Well, go on."
I'm scared to.
"Scared of what?"
I know what you'll say.
"Try Me and see."
Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.
"What about Bill?"
See! I knew you would bring him up. Why, Lord? He told lies about me, cheated me out of some money. He never
paid back the debt that he owes me. I've sworn to get even with him.
"But your prayer? What about your prayer?"
I didn't mean it.
"Well, at least, you are honest. But it's not much fun carrying that load of bitterness around inside you,
is it?"
No, but I'll feel better as soon as I get even with that fella. Boy, have I got some plans for old Bill. He'll
wish he never did me any harm.
"You won't feel any better. You'll feel worse. Revenge isn't sweet. Think of how unhappy you already are.
But I can change all that."
You can? How?
"Forgive Bill. Then I'll forgive you. Then the hate and sin will be Bill's problem and not yours. You may
lose the money but you will have settled your heart."
But Lord, I can't forgive Bill.
"Then I can't forgive you."
Oh, you're right. You always are. And more than I want revenge on Bill, I want to be right with you. All right,
all right, I forgive him. Help him to find the right road in life, Lord. He's bound to be awfully miserable, now
that I think about it. Anybody who goes around doing the things he does to others has to be mixed up inside. Someway,
somehow, show him the right way.
"There, now, wonderful. How do you feel?"
Hmm... Well, not bad. Not bad at all. In fact, I feel quite tremendous. You know, I don't think I'll have to
go to bed tense tonight for the first time since I can remember. Maybe I won't be so tired from now on because
I'm not getting enough rest.
"You're not through with your prayers. Go on."
Oh, all right..... And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil....
"Good, good. I'll do just that. Just don't put yourself in a place where you can be tempted."
What do you mean by that?
"Stop hanging around the magazine stand where Playboy is sold. Change some of your friendships. Some of
your so-called friends are beginning to get to you. They'll have you completely involved in wrong things before
long. Don't be fooled. They advertise that they're having fun, but for you, it would be ruin. Don't use me for
an escape hatch."
I don't understand you....
"Yes, you do. You've done it a lot of times. You get caught in a bad situation, you get into trouble, and
then come running to me: 'Lord, help me get out of this mess and I promise you I'll never do it again.' You remember
some of those bargains you tried to make with Me?"
Yes, and I'm ashamed. Lord, I really am.
"Which bargains are you remembering?"
Well, when the woman next door saw me coming out of the video games center. I remember telling you: "O
God, don't let her tell my mother where I've been. I promise I'll be in church every Sunday."
"She didn't tell your mother but you didn't keep your promise, did you?"
I'm sorry, Lord. I really am. Up till now, I thought that just praying was enough. I didn't expect you to answer
like this.
"Go ahead and finish your prayer."
For thine is the Kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen.
"Do you know what would bring Me glory? What would really make Me happy?"
No, but I'd like to know. I want now to please you. Now I can see how good it would be to be a real follower
of you.
"You just answered the question."
I did?
"Yes. The thing that would bring Me glory is to have people like you truly love and follow Me. And I see
that happening between us. Now that some of these old sins are exposed and out of the way, well, there's no telling
what we can do together."
Lord, let's see what you can make of me, okay?
"Yes. Let's see......"
Bike Ride with God
author unknown
At first I saw God as my observer, my judge, keeping track of the things I did wrong, so as to know whether
I merited heaven or hell when I die. He was out there sort of like the President. I recognized His picture when
I saw it, but I didn't really know Him.
But later on when I recognized my Higher Power, it seemed as though life was rather like a bike ride; but it
was a tandem bike, and I noticed that God was in the back helping me pedal.
I don't know just when it was that He suggested we change places, but life has not been the same since...life
with my God makes life exciting.
When I had control, I knew the way. It was rather boring, but predictable. It was the shortest distance between
two points.
But when He took the lead, He knew delightful long cuts, up mountains, and through rocky places and at breakneck
speeds. It was all I could do to hang on! Even though it looked like madness, He said "pedal."
I worried and was anxious and asked, "Where are You taking me?" He laughed and didn't answer, and
I started to trust.
I forgot my boring life and entered into the adventure; and when I'd say, "I'm scared," He'd lean
back and touch my hand.
He took me to people with gifts that I needed, gifts of healing acceptance, and joy. They gave me their gifts
to take on my journey; our journey, God's and mine.
And we were off again. He said, "Give the gifts away. They're extra baggage, too much weight." So
I did, to the people we met, and I found that in giving I received, and still our burden was light.
I did not trust Him at first, in control of my life. I thought He'd wreck it. But He knew bike secrets, knew
how to make it bend to take sharp corners, jump to clear high places filled with rocks, fly to shorten scary passages.
And I'm learning to shut up and pedal in the strangest places, and I'm beginning to enjoy the view and the cool
breeze on my face with my delightful constant companion, my God.
And when I'm sure I can't do any more, He just smiles and says, "PEDAL"!
The Birdies
author unknown
This is a true story that occurred in 1994 and was told by Lloyd Glen.
Throughout our lives we are blessed with spiritual experiences, some of which are very sacred and confidential,
and others, although sacred, are meant to be shared. Last summer my family had a spiritual experience that had
a lasting and profound impact on us, one we feel must be shared. It's a message of love. It's a message of regaining
perspective, restoring proper balance and renewing priorities. In humility. I pray that I might, in relating this
story, give you a gift my little son, Brian gave our family one summer day last year.
On July 22nd I was in route to Washington DC for a business trip. It was all so very ordinary, until we landed
in Denver for a plane change. As I collected my belongings from the overhead bin, an announcement was made for
Mr. Lloyd Glenn to see the United Customer Service Representative immediately. I thought nothing of it until I
reached the door to leave the plane and I heard a gentleman asking every male if they were Mr. Glenn. At this point
I knew something was wrong and my heart sunk. When I got off the plane a solemn-faced young man came toward me
and said, "Mr. Glenn there is an emergency at your home. I do not know what the emergency is, or who is involved,
but I will take you to the phone so you can call the hospital.
My heart was now pounding, but the will to be calm took over. Woodenly, I followed this stranger to the distant
telephone where I called the number he gave me for the Mission Hospital. My call was put through to the trauma
center where I learned that my three-year-old son had been trapped underneath the automatic garage door for several
minutes, and that when my wife had found him he was dead. CPR had been performed by a neighbor, who is a doctor,
and the paramedics had continued the treatment as Brian was transported to the hospital. By the time of my call,
Brian was revived and they believed he would live, but they did not know how much damage had been done to his brain,
nor to his heart. They explained that the door had completely closed on his little sternum right over his heart.
He had been severely crushed.
After speaking with the medical staff, my wife sounded worried but not hysterical, and I took comfort in her
calmness. The return flight seemed to last forever, but finally I arrived at the hospital six hours after the garage
door had come down. When I walked into the intensive care unit, nothing could have prepared me to see my little
son laying so still on a great big bed with tubes and monitors everywhere.
He was on a respirator. I glanced at my wife who stood and tried to give me a reassuring smile. It all seemed
like a terrible dream. I was filled in with the details and given a guarded prognosis. Brian was going to live,
and the preliminary tests indicated that his heart was ok - two miracles, in and of themselves. But only time would
tell if his brain received any damage.
Throughout the seemingly endless hours, my wife was calm. She felt that Brian would eventually be all right.
I hung on to her words and faith like a lifeline. All that night and the next day Brian remained unconscious. It
seemed like forever since I had left for my business trip the day before. Finally at two o'clock that afternoon,
our son regained consciousness and sat up uttering the most beautiful words I have ever heard spoken, He said,
"Daddy hold me," and he reached for me with his little arms.
By the next day he was pronounced as having no neurological or physical deficits, and the story of his miraculous
survival spread throughout the hospital. You cannot imagine our gratitude and joy.
As we took Brian home we felt a unique reverence for the life and love of our Heavenly Father that comes to
those who brush death so closely. In the days that followed there was a special spirit about our home.
Our two older children were much closer to their little brother. My wife and I were much closer to each other,
and all of us were very close as a whole family. Life took on a less stressful pace. Perspective seemed to be more
focused, and balance much easier to gain and maintain. We felt deeply blessed. Our gratitude was truly profound.
Almost a month later to the day of the accident, Brian awoke from his afternoon nap and said, "Sit down
mommy. I have something to tell you." At this time in his life, Brian usually spoke in small phrases, so to
say a large sentence surprised my wife. She sat down with him on his bed and he began his sacred and remarkable
story.
"Do you remember when I got stuck under the garage door? Well it was so heavy and it hurt really bad. I
called to you, but you couldn't hear me. I started to cry, but then it hurt too bad. And then the "birdies"
came "The birdies?" my wife asked puzzled. "Yes," he replied. "The birdies" made
a whooshing sound and flew into the garage. They took care of me." "They did?" "Yes, he said."
"One of the birdies" came and got you. She came to tell you I got stuck under the door."
A sweet reverent feeling filled the room. The spirit was so strong and yet lighter than air. My wife realized
that a three-year-old had no concept of death and spirits, so he was referring to the beings who came to him from
beyond as "birdies" because they were up in the air like birds that fly. "What did the birdies look
like?" she asked.
Brian answered. "They were so beautiful. They were dressed in white all white. Some of them had green and
white. But some of them had on just white."
"Did they say anything?" "Yes" he answered. They told me the baby would be alright."
"The baby?" my wife asked confused. And Brian answered. "The baby laying on the garage floor."
He went on, "You came out and opened the garage door and ran to the baby. You told the baby to stay and not
leave."
My wife nearly collapsed upon hearing this, for she had indeed gone and knelt beside Brian's body and seeing
his crushed chest and unrecognizable features, knowing he was already dead, she looked up around her and whispered,
"Don't leave us Brian, please stay if you can.
As she listened to Brian telling her the words she had spoken, she realized that the spirit had left his body
and was looking down from above on this little lifeless form. "Then what happened?" she asked. "We
went on a trip." he said, "far, far away.."
He grew agitated trying to say the things he didn't seem to have the words for. My wife tried to calm and comfort
him, and let him know it would be okay. He struggled with wanting to tell something that obviously was very important
to him, but finding the words was difficult.
"We flew so fast up in the air." "They're so pretty Mommy." he added. "And there is
lots and lots of "birdies". My wife was stunned. Into her mind the sweet comforting spirit enveloped
her more soundly, but with an urgency she had never before known.
Brian went on to tell her that the 'birdies' had told him that he had to come back and tell everyone about the
"birdies". He said they brought him back to the house and that a big fire truck, and an ambulance were
there. A man was bringing the baby out on a white bed and he tried to tell the man the baby would be okay, but
the man couldn't hear him. He said, "birdies told him he had to go with the ambulance, but they would be near
him. He said, they were so pretty and so peaceful, and he didn't want to come back. And then the bright light came.
He said that the light was so bright and so warm, and he loved the bright light so much. Someone was in the bright
light and put their arms around him, and told him, "I love you but you have to go back.
You have to play baseball, and tell everyone about the birdies." Then the person in the bright light kissed
him and waved bye-bye. Then whoosh, the big sound came and they went into the clouds."
The story went on for an hour. He taught us that "birdies" were always with us, but we don't see them
because we look with our eyes and we don't hear them because we listen with our ears. But they are always there,
you can only see them in here (he put his hand over his heart). They whisper the things to help us to do what is
right because they love us so much. Brian continued, stating, "I have a plan, Mommy. You have a plan. Daddy
has a plan. Everyone has a plan. We must all live our plan and keep our promises.
The "birdies help us to do that cause they love us so much." In the weeks that followed, he often
came to us and told all, or part of it again and again. Always the story remained the same. The details were never
changed or out of order. A few times he added further bits of information and clarified the message he had already
delivered. It never ceased to amaze us how he could tell such detail and speak beyond his ability when he spoke
of his "birdies."
Everywhere he went, he told strangers about the "birdies". Surprisingly, no one ever looked at him
strangely when he did this. Rather, they always get a softened look on their face and smiled.Needless to say, we
have not been the same ever since that day, and I pray we never will be.
The Bishop's Gift
by Joan Osborne
Once a church had fallen upon hard times. Only five members were left: the pastor and four others, all over
60 years old.
In the mountains near the church there lived a retired Bishop. It occurred to the pastor to ask the Bishop if
he could offer any advice that might save the church. The pastor and the Bishop spoke at length, but when asked
for advice, the Bishop simply responded by saying, "I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you
is that the Messiah is one of you."
The pastor, returning to the church, told the church members what the Bishop had said. In the months that followed,
the old church members pondered the words of the Bishop. "The Messiah is one of us?" they each asked
themselves. As they thought about this possibility, they all began to treat each other with extraordinary respect
on the off chance that that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off, off chance that each member himself
might be the Messiah, they also began to treat themselves with extraordinary care.
As time went by, people visiting the church noticed the aura of respect and gentle kindness that surrounded
the five old members of the small church. Hardly knowing why, more people began to come back to the church. They
began to bring their friends, and their friends brought more friends. Within a few years, the small church had
once again become a thriving church, thanks to the Bishop's gift.
Something to think about.... What if God were one of us?
The Blue Ribbon
Who You Are Makes A Difference
A teacher in New York decided to honor each of her seniors in high school by telling them the difference they
each made. Using a process developed by Helice Bridges of Del Mar, California, she called each student to the front
of the class, one at a time. First she told them how the student made a difference to her and the class. Then she
presented each of them with a blue ribbon imprinted with gold letters which read, "Who I Am Makes a Difference."
Afterwards the teacher decided to do a class project to see what kind of impact recognition would have on a
community. She gave each of the students three more ribbons and instructed them to go out and spread this acknowledgment
ceremony. Then they were to follow up on the results, see who honored whom and report back to the class in about
a week.
One of the boys in the class went to a junior executive in a nearby company and honored him for helping him
with his career planning. He gave him a blue ribbon and put it on his shirt. Then he gave him two extra ribbons,
and said, "We're doing a class project on recognition, and we'd like you to go out, find somebody to honor,
give them a blue ribbon, then give them the extra blue ribbon so they can acknowledge a third person to keep this
acknowledgment ceremony going. Then please report back to me and tell me what happened."
Later that day the junior executive went in to see his boss, who had been noted, by the way, as being kind of
a grouchy fellow. He sat his boss down and he told him that he deeply admired him for being a creative genius.
The boss seemed very surprised. The junior executive asked him if he would accept the gift of the blue ribbon and
would he give him permission to put it on him. His surprised boss said, "Well, sure. The junior executive
took the blue ribbon and placed it right on his boss's jacket above his heart. As he gave him the last extra ribbon,
he said, "Would you do me a favor? would you take this extra ribbon and pass it on by honoring somebody else?
The young boy who first gave me the ribbons is doing a project in school and we want to keep this recognition ceremony
going and find out how it affects people."
That night the boss came home to his 14-year-old son and sat him down. He said, "The most incredible thing
happened to me today. I was in my office and one of the junior executives came in and told me he admired me and
gave me a blue ribbon for being a creative genius. Imagine. He thinks I'm a creative genius. Then he put this blue
ribbon that says 'Who I Am Makes A Difference' on my jacket above my heart. He gave me an extra ribbon and asked
me to find somebody else to honor. As I was driving home tonight, I started thinking about whom I would honor with
this ribbon and I thought about you. I want to honor you. "My days are really hectic and when I come home
I don't pay a lot of attention to you. Sometimes I scream at you for not getting good enough grades in school and
for your bedroom being a mess, but somehow tonight, I just wanted to sit here and, well, just let you know that
you do make a difference to me. Besides your mother, you are the most important person in my life. You're a great
kid and I love you!"
The startled boy started to sob and sob, and he couldn't stop crying. His whole body shook. He looked up at
his father and said through his tears, "I was planning on committing suicide tomorrow, Dad, because I didn't
think you loved me. Now I don't need to."
A Brother's Miracle
author unknown
Like any good mother, when Karen found out that another baby was on the way, she did what she could to help
her 3 year old son Michael, prepare for a new sibling. They found out that the new baby is going to be a girl,
and day after day, night after night, Michael sings to his sister in Mommy's tummy.
The pregnancy progresses was normal for Karen, an active member of the Panther Creek United Methodist church in
Morristown, TN. Then the labor pains come. Every five minutes.....every minute. But complications arise during
delivery. Hours of labor. Would a c-section be required?
Finally, Michael's little sister is born. But she is in serious condition. With sirens howling in the night, the
ambulance rushes the infant to the neonatal intensive care unit at St. Mary's hospital, Knoxville, TN. The days
inch by. The little girl gets worse. The pediatric specialist tells the parents, "There is very little hope.
Be prepared for the worst." Karen and her husband contact a local cemetery about a burial plot. They have
fixed up a special room in their home for the new baby and now they plan a funeral.
Michael keeps begging his parents to let him see his sister. "I want to sing to her," he says. Week two
in intensive care. It looks as if a funeral will come before the week is over.
Michael keeps nagging about singing to his sister but kids are never allowed in Intensive Care. But Karen makes
up her mind. She will take Michael whether they like it or not. If he doesn't see his sister now, he may never
see her alive.
She dresses him in an oversized scrub suit and marches him into ICU. He looks like a walking laundry basket, but
the head nurse recognizes him as a child and bellows, "Get that kid out of here now! No children are allowed!"
The mother rises up strong in Karen, and the usually mild-mannered lady glares steel-eyed into the head nurse's
face, her lips a firm line. "He is not leaving until he sings to his sister!"
Karen tows Michael to his sister's bedside. He gazes at the tiny infant losing the battle to live. And he begins
to sing. In the pure hearted voice of a 3 year old, Michael sings: "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine,
you make me happy when skies are gray - - -"
Instantly the baby girl responds. The pulse rate becomes calm and steady.
"Keep on singing, Michael."
"You never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away- - -"
The ragged, strained breathing becomes as smooth as a kitten's purr.
"Keep on singing, Michael."
"The other night, dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms..." Michael's little sister
relaxes as rest, healing rest, seems to sweep over her.
"Keep on singing, Michael."
Tears conquer the face of the bossy head nurse. Karen glows.
"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. Please don't take my sunshine away."
Funeral plans are scrapped. The next day - - - the very next day, the little girl is well enough to go home!
Woman's Day magazine called it "the miracle of a brother's song".
The medical staff just called it a miracle. Karen called it a miracle of God's love!
Burning Bush
by Pat Worrell
Where were you when God called you? Can you remember that instant when you knew that you knew that God had a
design, a plan, and a purpose for you? Realization has come to me in stages, yet in my soul I always knew. I think
most of us are like that if we care to admit it. Did you question God when He called you? Did you wonder if it
was really the Lord calling you? I ask these questions because I have been walking with Moses recently and his
actions started my present line of thought.
Moses was tending a flock of sheep and as he led them to the back of the desert, he came to Horeb, the mountain
of God. Moses was pretty much minding his own business when the Angel of the Lord appeared to him as a flame of
fire in the middle of a bush. Moses turned aside to get a better look, after all you don't see a burning bush every
day. Let me try to paint the complete picture for you.
Moses is standing barefoot in front of a burning bush, barefoot because the bush has told him that the ground is
holy. The flame in the bush is the Angel of the Lord. The bush is burning, yet not consumed by the flame. The bush
is talking to him and he is talking to the bush. The bush tells Moses that it is God and says in so many words,
"Moses, my man, I have a job for you," and Moses immediately starts arguing with the bush, "Who
am I that I should go to Pharaoh?" Do you suppose the Lord felt like he was reasoning with a bush? Tell me,
what did you say when the Lord called you?
I remember thinking, Moses, what do you expect God to say, that He was having a bad day and he must have been mistaken?
Do you expect God to see the wisdom of your reasoning and intellect, the God of heaven and earth? I could hardly
keep silent any longer and just as I was about to cry out that God had never asked him to move in his own power,
the Lord glanced my way, and in that instant I knew that we all have a little Moses in us. It is always so easy
to see the mistakes of others and ignore our own, isn't it? The glance from the Lord said it all and I wondered,
why is the Lord always so gentle with me?
I kept my peace and my concealment and watched as the Lord patiently overcame all the objections that Moses could
muster. I recalled my own objections when the Lord called me. What about you, have you answered the call or are
you still in the objecting stage? Well, that is between you and the Lord, but remember, he has brought you here
to show you something.
Looking back, I doubt if Moses had any idea of the adventure that was to unfold in his life. I followed the man
on and off from a distance for many years and I tell you, I have never seen a tougher man. Would you stand up to
Pharaoh time after time? After all the plagues that wasted most of what Pharaoh held dear, would you have the guts
to walk up to him and say, by the way Mr. Pharaoh, there is more to come if you don't do what the most high God
wants done?
Would you baby-sit that unruly mob for forty years? What would you do when even your own relatives turned against
you? Would you pray for them and ask God to heal them? If you had to spend forty years in the desert with "children"
what would you do? What will we do when we realize that we have a lot in common with the "children?"
For forty years they whined, complained and refused to obey the Lord. Is that really much different from what you
and I do? I wish I could say yes. I watched Moses walk the desert at night, just him and the stars and God. I could
hear him talk to God but I stayed far enough away so I couldn't make out the words. A man should have privacy when
he is with his Creator. I would watch him come back from those walks and his face would be at ease, all the tension
gone. After many of those walks the children would try to intercept him before he could find the safety of his
tent. I noticed that he became more resourceful at avoiding them as the years passed.
Do you walk with God in the cool of the day and talk with Him? It is a two-way conversation, God so desires to
have a relationship with you. Many of us spend our time murmuring and complaining instead of doing what we are
called to do. The Lord never told us to talk the problem, don't you think He knows the problem? Speak the solution
and God will honor your words.
One lesson I learned as I walked with Moses that stands out in my mind is that God never honors murmuring. He will
at times respond to murmuring, manna is a good example. Can you imagine eating the same food for three meals a
day for forty years? Oh, you can call it heavenly food if you like, but you haven't a clue of the meaning of monotony
until you dine on the same food for years and years. On top of that their women had to wear the same clothes for
forty years, what a life that was in the tents. I won't even tell you of the standard conversation that I would
hear, but suffice it to say, it is no wonder they were such an ugly bunch. The children murmuring to the women,
the women murmuring to the men, the men murmuring to each other and to Moses and to God, well, you get the picture.
What do you think that calliope sounded like to God?
I wondered how they could have lived if they would have repented and asked God, in faith too bless them. On those
nights when I was keeping my distance from Moses as he talked to God I wondered how things would have been if Adam
had not blamed the snake and the woman. It is to late for them to change but you and I could start fresh right
now if we wanted.
The times I enjoyed the most is when Moses would go on retreat with the Lord. I wasn't allowed to get as close
as Moses, they were talking God to leader, so I would set up camp some distance away. The peace and serenity of
the Lord is something that I carry with me to this day. As a observer I have heard on more than one occasion that
the day will come when all of mankind can enter into the secret place of the most high. What a day that will be!
I can see a time when people will never murmur again, although I wonder, knowing man as I do. Yet I am a dreamer
so I chose to dream of a time when murmuring will end once and for all.
Lately I have been watching Moses writing and when I asked him what he was doing, he told me he was writing books.
Not a book like I would write of dates, people, and facts, but books written under the power of the Lord. I should
tell you this, Moses glows, at times he is so bright he has to cover himself. He has let me read some of his writing
and I can tell you the man is very good, his work has a glow of it's own.
I have learned many things from Moses and his people through the years, the following three stand out above the
rest. The first is if everyone around you is murmuring, whether it is a few or millions, you don't have to join
in. God will honor your faith and he will go around millions of people if necessary to move on your faith. One
man can keep the faith and be a light to the world if he desires and God can make you that light. Can you see yourself
glowing with the presence of God?
I recall the day of the thunder and lightning. It seemed like the earth would shake itself apart. The mountain
smoked and the wind was heavy on my flesh. The darkness was thick with the presence of the Lord. Moses drew near
but the people were full of fear. They told Moses to talk to God and then tell them what the Lord said. That is
why Moses was chosen to lead the people, he drew near. I remembered the burning bush and how he turned and drew
near to the Lord that day. Don't stand far off from God like the children did that day. They never did grow up,
they remained children until they died, spiritual babies that had seen God's power but rejected it and thereby
sealed their fate.
One other thing that often comes to mind is courage of conviction. Joshua and Caleb were men of valor, when the
Lord said they could take the promised land they believed God and not the circumstance. For forty years Joshua
held fast his confession of faith. He watched all the children die in the desert because of disobedience and when
the fullness of time came he was well able to lead his people. I recall times in my life when I wouldn't hold fast
to my confession for more than a hour. What an encouragement and example Joshua is to me.
Well, my friend, I have enjoyed writing you this letter and bringing you up to date on what I have witnessed lately.
I pray that it is an encouragement to you and your faith. If you should happen to see a burning bush or a shaking
mountain heavy with the Lord's power, I encourage you to draw near. Please write soon so I know all is well with
you. I must return to my book and finish the story of the desert. The Lord has some others that I am to watch and
write about, if possible I will visit you shortly.
The only survivor of a shipwreck washed up on a small, uninhabited island. He prayed feverishly for God to rescue
him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming.
Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements, and to
store his few possessions.
But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling
up to the sky. The worst had happened; everything was lost. He was stung with grief and anger.
"God, how could you do this to me!" he cried.
Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come
to rescue him.
"How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers.
"We saw your smoke signal," they replied.
It is easy to get discouraged when things are going bad. But we shouldn't lose heart, because God is at work in
our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering. St. Paul wrote, "...I have learned the secret of being
content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want" (Philippians
4:12).
St. Paul had confidence that good would come out of everything (Romans 8:28), so he learned to be thankful, not
bitter, even when he was suffering.
Remember the next time your little hut is burning to the ground--it just may be a smoke signal that summons the
grace of God.
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