Stories Of Hope & Inspiration

[FineLinen]

What Love Is All About

It was a busy morning, approximately 8:30 am, when an elderly gentleman, in his 80’s arrived to have stitches removed from his thumb. He stated that he was in a hurry and that he had an appointment at 9:00 am. I took his vital signs, and had him take a seat, knowing it would be over an hour before someone would be able to see him. I saw him looking at his watch and decided, since I was not busy with another patient, I would evaluate his wound.

On exam it was well healed, so I talked to one of the doctors, got the needed supplies to remove his sutures and redressed his wound. While taking care of him, we began to engage in conversation. I asked him if he had a doctor’s appointment this morning, as he was in such a hurry. The gentleman told me no, that he needed to go to the nursing home to eat breakfast with his wife. I then inquired as to her health. He told me that she had been there for awhile and was a victim of Alzheimer’s Disease.

As we talked and I finished dressing his wound, I asked if she would be worried if he was a bit late. He replied that she no longer knew who he was, and hadn’t recognized him in five years. I was surprised, and asked him, “And you still go every morning, even though she doesn’t know who you are?” He smiled and patted my hand and said,

"She doesn’t know me, but I still know who she is."

 

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The Story of Richard Wurmbrand

“God, I know surely that You do not exist. But if perchance You exist, which I contest, it is not my duty to believe in You; it is Your duty to reveal Yourself to me.”

The young Jewish atheist who uttered that flippant prayer was Richard Wurmbrand, born in 1909 in Bucharest, Romania. Little did he know how completely God would answer him, call him to a life of service to Christ, and use him to raise up one of the strongest ministries in the world today that helps the persecuted church.

Salvation and Service

In 1938, in a remote Romanian village, an old German carpenter named Christian Wolfkes lay sick. The only person by his side giving aid and comfort was a Jewish follower of Christ. When Wolfkes recovered, he was so grateful to God that he prayed earnestly for the opportunity to share the gospel with a Jewish person. Although none lived in his village, still he prayed.

One day a young, newly married Jewish couple arrived on vacation. They were Richard and Sabina Wurmbrand. The carpenter enthusiastically gave Richard a Bible. Richard had read the Scriptures once but had gotten nothing from them. However, this time, his heart was stirred. He didn’t know why, until he learned the secret. The carpenter and his wife had spent many long hours every day praying for his salvation. “The Bible he gave me was written not so much in words, but in flames of love fired by his prayers,” Richard would write later.

The carpenter spoke about God’s unconditional love for the Jewish people (Dt. 7:6–7; Jer. 31:3), the Messianic fulfillments in Jesus, and Jesus’ purpose in coming to Earth: “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but that the world through Him might be saved” (Jn. 3:17). The Spirit of God freed Richard’s heart, and he believed. Sabina also came to faith and was so deeply changed she soon brought others to the Messiah. >>>>

https://israelmyglory.org/article/th…ard-wurmbrand/

 

[FineLinen]

The Scars Of Life

Some years ago, on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water he ran out the back door leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake that an alligator was swimming toward the shore.

His father was working in the yard and saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could. Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father.

But it was too late.

Just as the little boy reached his father, the alligator reached him.

From the dock the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the father, but the father was much too passionate to let go. A farmer happened to drive by and heard his screams. Grabbing a rifle the farmer raced from his truck, took aim, and shot the alligator.

Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived. His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And on his arms were deep scratches where his father's fingernails had dug into the boy's flesh in his effort to hang on to the son he loved.

A newspaper reporter interviewing the boy after the trauma asked if he would show him the scars on his legs. The boy lifted his pant legs.

And then with obvious pride, the boy said to the reporter, "But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too! I have them because my Dad wouldn't let go."

 

[FineLinen]

Tooth that saved a soldier’s life

The most miraculous event I witnessed showed how a tooth saved a sergeant’s life!

Christmas Eve morning a soldier came into our clinic at the Ibn Sina Hospital in downtown Baghdad covered in his own blood. He recounted an incredible story.

Early Christmas Eve morning, two squads were assigned to sweep and clear two adjacent homes where Iraq terrorists were holed-up. The patient, SGT C, was leading one of those assault squads. The other squad hit their target first.

SGT C said that he heard a lot of small arms fire and yelling, so he thought he would round the corner and size up the situation before advancing his team.

Unfortunately, as he turned the corner, he found himself staring directly into the barrel of a 9mm automatic pistol. SGT C said he never had time to be scared, he just knew he was dead. The terrorist pulled the trigger and, miraculously, SGT C found himself still standing.

He figured the bullet had missed. He advanced on the Iraqi, who immediately surrendered. After the enemy was rounded up, SGT C said he started to feel light! headed and one of his soldiers insisted that he proceed to the hospital. He realized at this time that he had lost his front tooth in the gun fight. He figured the ballistic shock from the weapon’s blast had knocked it loose. He was wrong.

When he presented early that morning Major Kimberly Perkins, our oral surgeon, took a panograph and discovered the incredible truth. The 9mm bullet did NOT miss SGT C. He was hit directly in the face. The bullet entered just below his nose where it impacted the apex of #8. The energy from the bullet was transferred to the tooth, literally ejecting the tooth from its socket, and stopping the bullet in its track. Other than the missing tooth, the majority of SGT C’s injuries were confined to soft tissue.

According to the Las Vegas Review Journal, this is a true account from Las Vegas dentist Dr. Anna Lee Kruyer who served with an Army dental team in Iraq for a year.

 

[FineLinen]

Everything Is Black & White: everything!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_c...ature=emb_logo

 

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[h=2][/h]

When a friend urgently texted Florida mom Stacey Philpot about a Facebook post she just had to see, she wasn't sure what to expect. The post showed a teenaged boy standing alone at the flagpole and it seemed as if everyone had something to say about him. And that's when it hit Stacey - she was looking at her son!

As a blogger, Stacey Philpot spends a good amount of time online. So, she decided to take a little break from Facebook. But then a friend sent her an urgent text about a post Stacey "wouldn't want to miss."

The post showed a boy standing alone at the flagpole praying as part of See You At The Pole Day. This yearly event encourages students everywhere to gather at their school's flagpole to pray for their school, friends, families, churches, and communities. Usually the event draws a crowd. But at Minneola High School, only one young man turned up. The brave boy stood all alone, praying by himself.

 

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The Homing Instinct

A hundred years ago, a pair of English ornithologists took birds from their mother’s nest on the island of Skokholm off the coast of Wales. They tagged those birds and transported them to various far-off places, then released them to see whether the birds could find their way home to Wales.

One of those birds was released in Venice. Despite the tremendous distance (about 1,000 miles) and despite the fact that this species wasn’t native to the region, the bird found its way back home by a path it had never flown — in just over 14 days!

That experiment was repeated with even greater distances.

Two birds were transported by train in a closed box to London, then flown by airplane to Boston. Only one of the two survived that trip. The lone surviving bird flew all the way across the Atlantic Ocean and found its way back to its mother’s nest in 12 days and 12 hours!

Pretty impressive, right? Even ornithologists are amazed by this inbuilt capacity called the homing instinct. It’s the inherent ability to find their way home across great distances, despite unfamiliar terrain.

There’s a similar instinct hardwired into the human soul — the longing to be blessed by God. In the words of Saint Augustine,

“You have made us for yourself, and our heart is restless until it rests in you.”

The 17th-century French philosopher Blaise Pascal called it the

“God-shaped hole.”

Pope Francis called it

“nostalgia for God.”

Yet despite our innate nature to long for God’s blessings, they don’t always come in our timing.

 

[FineLinen]

Last Wish of a Fireman

Stop telling God how big your storm is. Instead tell your storm how big your GOD is!

In Phoenix, Arizona, a 26-year-old mother stared down at her 6 year old son, who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up and fulfill all his dreams. Now that was no longer possible… The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son’s dreams to come true.

She took her son’s hand and asked, “Billy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?”

“Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up.”

Mom smiled back and said, “Let’s see if we can make your wish come true.”

Later that day she went to her local fire department in Phoenix, Arizona, where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix.

She explained her son’s final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her six-year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.

Fireman Bob said, “we can do better than that. If you’ll have your son ready at seven o’clock Wednesday morning, we’ll make him an honorary fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards! And if you’ll give us his sizes, we’ll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy one, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. They’re all manufactured right here in Phoenix, so we can get them fast.”

Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Billy, dressed him in his fire uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck. Billy got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls in Phoenix that day and Billy got to go out on all three calls. He rode in the different fire engines, the paramedic’s van, and even the fire chief’s car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Billy that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible. One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept that no one should die alone, began to call the family members to the hospital. Then she remembered the day Billy had spent as a fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Billy as he made his transition.

The chief replied, “We can do better than that. We’ll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire? It’s just the fire department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room?”

About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Billy’s third floor open window. Sixteen firefighters climbed up the ladder into Billy’s room. With his mother’s permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they loved him. With his dying breath, Billy looked up at the fire chief and said, “Chief, am I really a fireman now?”

“Billy, you are, and the Head Chief, Jesus, is holding your hand,” the chief said.

With those words, Billy smiled and said,

"I know, He’s been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing . . "

He closed his eyes one last time.

 

[FineLinen]

Dinner with an angel.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6BTvsQbWxw&feature=emb_logo

 

[FineLinen]

Martha Mason

Martha Mason graduated valedictorian of her high school and earned two college degrees at the top of the class—all while living her life in an iron lung.

Paralyzed by polio at age 11 in 1948 and confined 23 hours a day in an immobile, 800-pound horizontal tube, the voracious reader stayed “endlessly curious”—and amazingly adaptable.

Custom-built intercoms connected her to school and made her a “regular member” in her classes, with the technology helping her from high school through Wake Forest College (now University), where the English major arrived at her dorm room in a bakery truck.

By the time she died in 2009, Mason had been in the iron lung for a record-setting 60 years. “Something happens to all of us,” she said in a documentary about her, Martha in Lattimore.

“Mine is more visible than yours, but you have to deal with your things, too. None of us are exempt from things that would make us extraordinary people if the world knew the story.”

 

[FineLinen]

How to change the world

The ninth week of SEAL training is referred to as Hell Week. It is six days of no sleep, constant physical and mental harassment and one special day at the Mud Flats.

The Mud Flats are an area between San Diego and Tijuana where the water runs off and creates the Tijuana slues—a swampy patch of terrain where the mud will engulf you.

It is on Wednesday of Hell Week that you paddle down to the mud flats and spend the next 15 hours trying to survive the freezing-cold mud, the howling wind and the incessant pressure from the instructors to quit.

As the sun began to set that Wednesday evening, my training class, having committed some “egregious infraction of the rules” was ordered into the mud. The mud consumed each man till there was nothing visible but our heads.

The instructors told us we could leave the mud if only five men would quit—just five men and we could get out of the oppressive cold.

Looking around the mud flat, it was apparent that some students were about to give up. It was still over eight hours till the sun came up—eight more hours of bone-chilling cold.

The chattering teeth and shivering moans of the trainees were so loud it was hard to hear anything. And then, one voice began to echo through the night—one voice raised in song.

The song was terribly out of tune, but sung with great enthusiasm.

One voice became two, and two became three, and before long everyone in the class was singing. We knew that if one man could rise above the misery then others could as well.

The instructors threatened us with more time in the mud if we kept up the singing—but the singing persisted. And somehow, the mud seemed a little warmer, the wind a little tamer and the dawn not so far away.

If I have learned anything in my time traveling the world, it is the power of hope.

The power of one person—Washington, Lincoln, King, Mandela and even a young girl from Pakistan named Malala—can change the world by giving people hope.

So, if you want to change the world, start singing when you’re up to your neck in mud.

Source: The commencement address by Admiral William H. McRaven, ninth commander of U.S. Special Operations Command, at the University of Texas at Austin on 17 May 2014

 

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A Muslim man who converted to Christianity says that many Muslims are giving their lives to Jesus, and most of them are doing so through dreams and visions, rather than through evangelism.

According to The Christian Post, the Christian convert from the West Bank, identified as Ismail, reportedly had to give everything up when he made the decision to follow Christ.

-continued below-


https://www.christianheadlines.com/...isions-says-persecuted-christian-convert.html

 

[FineLinen]

What lies on the other side of life?

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 came a sound of scratching and whining, and as he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room with his tail wagging and 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. -Author Unknown-

 

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The Hand

Thanksgiving Day was near. The first grade teacher gave her class a fun assignment — to draw a picture of something for which they were thankful.

Most of the class might be considered economically disadvantaged, but still many would celebrate the holiday with turkey and other traditional goodies of the season. These, the teacher thought, would be the subjects of most of her student’s art. And they were.

But Douglas made a different kind of picture.

Douglas was a different kind of boy. He was the teacher’s true child of misery, frail and unhappy. As other children played at recess, Douglas was likely to stand close by her side. One could only guess at the pain Douglas felt behind those sad eyes.

Yes, his picture was different. When asked to draw a picture of something for which he was thankful, he drew a hand. Nothing else. Just an empty hand.

His abstract image captured the imagination of his peers. Whose hand could it be One child guessed it was the hand of a farmer, because farmers raise turkeys. Another suggested a police officer, because the police protect and care for people. Still others guessed it was the hand of God, for God feeds us. And so the discussion went — until the teacher almost forgot the young artist himself.

When the children had gone on to other assignments, she paused at Douglas’ desk, bent down, and asked him whose hand it was.

The little boy looked away and muttered, It’s yours, teacher.

She recalled the times she had taken his hand and walked with him here or there, as she had the other students. How often had she said, Take my hand, Douglas, we’ll go outside. Or, Let me show you how to hold your pencil. Or, Let’s do this together. Douglas was most thankful for his teacher’s hand.

Brushing aside a tear, she went on with her work.

This story speaks of more than thankfulness. It says something about teachers teaching and parents parenting and friends showing friendship, and how much it means to the Douglases of the world. They might not always say thanks. But they’ll remember the hand that reaches out.

 

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Abraham Lincoln First Day in Office

Abraham Lincoln entered to give his inaugural address, one man stood up. He was a rich Aristocrat. He said, “Mr. Lincoln, you should not forget that your father used to make shoes for my family.”

And the whole Senate laughed; they thought they had made a fool of Lincoln.

But certain people are made of a totally different mettle. Lincoln looked at the man directly in the eye and said, “Sir, I know that my father used to make shoes for your family, and there will be many others here. Because he made shoes the way nobody else can, he was a creator. His shoes were not just shoes; he poured his whole soul into them. I want to ask you, have you any complaint? Because I know how to make shoes myself. If you have any complaint I can make you another pair of shoes. But as far as I know, nobody has ever complained about my father’s shoes. He was a genius, a great creator and I am proud of my father”.

The whole Senate was struck dumb. They could not understand what kind of man Abraham Lincoln was. He was proud because his father did his job so well that not even a single complaint had ever been heard.

Remember:

“No one can hurt you without your consent.”

“It is not what happens to us that hurts us. It is our response that hurts us.

Be excellent at your work no matter what work you do, happiness is always yours.”

 

[FineLinen]

“Great Is Thy Faithfulness”

The Story Behind the Hymn

Through the Lord’s mercies we are not consumed, because His compassions fail not. They are new every morning, great is Your faithfulness. “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul, ‘Therefore I hope in Him!” Lamentations 3:22-24

You don’t need to be rescued from life-threatening danger or see God’s miraculous provision in the direst of financial crises to truly know the faithfulness of the Lord. God remains faithful day in and day out in the largest and smallest of circumstances.

Thomas Chisholm wrote “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” as a testament to God’s faithfulness through his very ordinary life.

Born in a log cabin in Franklin, Kentucky, Chisholm became a Christian when he was twenty-seven and entered the ministry when he was thirty-six, though poor health forced him to retire after just one year. During the rest of his life, Chisholm spent many years living in New Jersey and working as a life insurance agent. Still, even with a desk job, he wrote nearly 1,200 poems throughout his life, including several published hymns.

Chisholm explained toward the end of his life, “My income has not been large at any time due to impaired health in the earlier years which has followed me on until now. Although I must not fail to record here the unfailing faithfulness of a covenant-keeping God and that He has given me many wonderful displays of His providing care, for which I am filled with astonishing gratefulness.”

Just think, with each new day, God gives us the chance to prove His faithfulness. And throughout history, He’s never once been proven wrong, for His mercies are new every morning, no matter what.

 

[FineLinen]

Teddy Stoddard

As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children an untruth.

Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. However, that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Teddy Stoddard.

Mrs. Thompson had watched Teddy the year before and noticed that he did not play well with the other children, that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. In addition, Teddy could be unpleasant.

It got to the point where Mrs. Thompson would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers.

At the school where Mrs. Thompson taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Teddy's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise.

Teddy's first grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners ... he is a joy to be around."

His second grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle."

His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken."

Teddy's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Teddy is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class."

By now, Mrs. Thompson realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Christmas presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Teddy's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Thompson took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one-quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Teddy Stoddard stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Thomson, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left, she cried for at least an hour.

On that very day, she quit teaching reading, writing and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Thompson paid particular attention to Teddy. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Teddy had become one of the smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Teddy became one of her "teacher's pets."

A year later, she found a note under her door, from Teddy, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Six years went by before she got another note from Teddy. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life.

Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Thompson that she was still the best and favorite teacher he had ever had in his whole life.

Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer. The letter was signed, Theodore F. Stoddard, MD .

The story does not end there.

You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Teddy said he had met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Thompson might agree to sit at the wedding in the place that was usually reserved for the mother of the groom.

Of course, Mrs. Thompson did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. Moreover, she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Teddy remembered his mother wearing on their last Christmas together.

They hugged each other, and Dr. Stoddard whispered in Mrs. Thompson's ear, "Thank you, Mrs. Thompson, for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference."

Mrs. Thompson, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said, "Teddy, you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't know how to teach until I met you."

Warm someone's heart today … pass this along. Just try to make a difference in someone's life today … tomorrow … just do it.

Random acts of kindness, I think they call it?

"Believe in angels, then return the favor."

 

[FineLinen]

A Child’s Prayer

Dear God, are You still awake?
Have You got a minute or two?

You’re pretty good at understanding,
And I really need to talk to You.

You see, Mommy came to tuck me in,
Like she does every night.
I was trying to play a trick on her,
Since she can’t see without the light.

I was going to close my eyes
And pretend to be asleep.
But when I heard her crying,
I didn’t dare let out a peep.

She started talking to you, God.
Did You hear the things she said?
Could You hear what she was saying
As she stood beside my bed?

Why would Mommy be so sad?
I wondered just what I had done,
And then I began to remember
it all As she named them one by one…

This morning we worked in the garden,
But, honest, I really didn’t know
That if I picked all those little yellow blooms
The tomatoes wouldn’t grow!

Charlie and I were trying to be helpers,
'Cause I know that’s what Mommy needs,
But I don’t think she was too happy with us
when we pulled up carrots instead of weeds.

Mommy said we should stop for the day,
she decided we had helped quite enough.
I sure had worked up an appetite…
I didn’t know gardening was so tough!

we had peanut-butter and jelly for lunch
and I shared too much, I guess…
But I didn’t realize until I was done
that Charlie had made such a mess.

Mommy said she needed a nap,
she had one of her headaches today.
She told me to keep an eye on my sister
and find something quiet to play.

Well, God, do You remember all those curls
you gave my little sister Jenny?
We played barber shop…very quietly…
and now, well, she doesn’t have any.

Boy, was Mommy mad at me…
I had to go sit on my bed.
She said never to cut “people hair” again.
I guess I’ll practice on Charlie instead.

We sat and watched poor old Albert,
I just knew he must be so bored
Going round and round
in the same place all day,
Wouldn’t You think so, Lord?

I didn’t think it would hurt
to let him out for a while.
I mean, mice need exercise, too.
By the way, have You seen Albert lately?
He’s been sort of missing since two.

Mommy sent us outside for the rest of the day.
She said we needed fresh air.
But when Daddy came home she told him
he was trying to get something out of her hair.

We thought Mommy needed cheering up,
so we decided to brighten her day.
But, God, did You see the look on her face
When we gave her that pretty bouquet?

We had gotten a little bit dirty,
so Mommy said to get in the tub.
“Use soap this time,” she reminded,
“and please don’t forget to scrub.”

Charlie didn’t like the water too much,
but I lathered up real good.
I knew Mommy would be so proud of me
For cleaning up like I should.

I went downstairs to the table,
but during dinner it started to rain…
I’d forgotten to turn off the water, it seems,
and I hadn’t unplugged the drain!

I decided right then it was just about time
to start getting ready for bed,
When Mommy said, "It’s sure been a long day,
" And her face began turning all red.

I lay there listening to Mommy
as she told You about our day.
I thought about all of the things I had done
and I wondered what I should say.

I was just about to tell her
that I’d been awake all along,
And ask her to please forgive me
for all of those thing I’d done wrong.

When suddenly, I heard her whisper,
"God, forgive me for today…
For not being more understanding
when those problems came my way…

For not handling situations in the way
You wanted me to…for getting angry
and losing my temper,
Things I know You don’t want me to do.

And, God, please give me more patience,
Help me make it through another day,
I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise…
"In Jesus’ name I pray."

Wiping her eyes, she kissed me
and knelt here beside my bed.
She stroked my hair for a little while…"
I love you, precious," Mommy said.

She left the room without ever knowing
That I’d been awake all the time.
And God, could we make it our little secret?
You know, just Yours and mine?

I’m sorry I was so much trouble today,
I really didn’t mean to be…
Daddy says it’s tough being a kid sometimes,
but I think it’s harder on Mommy than me.

Well, goodnight, God. Thanks for listening.
It’s sure nice to know You’re there.
I feel so much better when I talk to You
'cause You always hear my prayer.

And I’ll do better tomorrow, I promise…
Just You wait and see!
I’ll try not to be so much trouble again,
But, God,
please give more patience to Mommy
…Just in case! Amen.

 

[FineLinen]

The House with the Golden Windows

A little girl lived in a small, very simple, poor house on a hill.

She loved to play in the small garden. As she grew up, she was able to see over the garden fence and across the valley to a wonderful house high on the hill. This house had golden windows, so golden and shining that the little girl would dream of how magic it would be to grow up and live in a house with golden windows instead of an ordinary house like hers.

And although she loved her parents and her family, she yearned to live in such a golden house and dreamed all day about how wonderful and exciting it must feel to live there.

When she got to an age where she gained enough skill and sensibility to go outside her garden fence, she asked her mother if she could go for a bike ride outside the gate and down the lane. After pleading with her, her mother finally agreed, insisting that she kept close to the house and didn't wander too far.

The day was beautiful and the little girl knew exactly where she was heading! Down the lane and across the valley, she rode her bike until she got to the gate of the golden house across on the other hill.

As she dismounted her bike and lent it against the gate post, she focused on the path that lead to the house and then on the house itself... And was so disappointed as she realized all the windows were plain and rather dirty, reflecting nothing other than the sad neglect of the house that stood derelict.

So sad that she didn't go any further and turned, heart broken as she remounted her bike ... As she glanced up she saw a sight to amaze her... There, across the way on her side of the valley was a little house and its windows glistened golden ... as the sun shone on her little home.

She realized that she had been living in her golden house and all the love and care she found there was what made her home the 'golden house'.

Everything she dreamed was right there in front of her nose!