Time Gets Better With Age

Read through to the end, it gets better as you go!

I’ve learned that I like my teacher because she cries when we sing “Silent Night”.

- Age 5

I’ve learned that our dog doesn’t want to eat my broccoli either.

- Age 7

I’ve learned that when I wave to people in the country, they stop what they are doing and wave back.

- Age 9

I’ve learned that just when I get my room the way I like it, Mom makes me clean it up again.

- Age 12

I’ve learned that if you want to cheer yourself up, you should try cheering someone else up.

- Age 14

I’ve learned that although it’s hard to admit it, I’m secretly glad my parents are strict with me.

- Age 15

I’ve learned that silent company is often more healing than words of advice.

- Age 24

I’ve learned that brushing my child’s hair is one of life’s great pleasures.

- Age 26

I’ve learned that wherever I go, the world’s worst drivers have followed me there.

- Age 29

I’ve learned that if someone says something unkind about me, I must live so that no one will believe it.

- Age 30

I’ve learned that there are people who love you dearly but just don’t know how to show it.

- Age 42

I’ve learned that you can make some one’s day by simply sending them a little note.

- Age 44

I’ve learned that the greater a person’s sense of guilt, the greater his or her need to cast blame on others.

- Age 46

I’ve learned that children and grandparents are natural allies.

- Age 47

I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow.

- Age 48

I’ve learned that singing “Amazing Grace” can lift my spirits for hours.

- Age 49

I’ve learned that motel mattresses are better on the side away from the phone.

- Age 50

I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights.

- Age 51

I’ve learned that keeping a vegetable garden is worth a medicine cabinet full of pills.

- Age 52

I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you miss them terribly after they die.

- Age 53

I’ve learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life.

- Age 58

I’ve learned that if you want to do something positive for your children, work to improve your marriage.

- Age 61

I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

- Age 62


I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catchers mitt on both hands. You need to be able to throw something back.

- Age 64

I’ve learned that if you pursue happiness, it will elude you. But if you focus on your family, the needs of others, your work, meeting new people, and doing the very best you can, happiness will find you.

- Age 65

I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with kindness, I usually make the right decision.

- Age 66

I’ve learned that everyone can use a prayer.

- Age 72

I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one.

- Age 82

I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love that human touch-holding hands, a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back.

- Age 90

I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn.

- Age 92

The Story of the Bible and the Diamond Ring

A married lady was expecting a birthday gift from her husband.

For many months she had admired a beautiful diamond ring in a showroom, and knowing her husband could affort it, she told him that was what she wanted.

As her birthday approached, this lady waited for signs that her husband has purchased the diamond ring.

Finally, on the morning of her birthday, her husband called her into his study room. Her husband told her how proud he was to have such a good wife, and told her how much he loved her.

He handed her a beautiful wrapped gift box. Curious, the wife opened the box and found alovely leather-bound Bible, with the wife’s name embossed in gold. Angrily, she raised her voice to her husband and said, ‘With all your money you give me a Bible?’ And stormed out of the house, leaving her husband.

Many years passed and the lady was very successful in business. She managed to settle for a more beautiful house and a wonderful family, but realized her ex-husband was very old, and thought perhaps she should go and visit him. She had not seen him for many years. But before she could make arrangements, she received a telegram telling her that her ex-husband has passed away, and willed all of his possessions to her. She needed to come back immediately and take care of things.

When she arrived at her ex-husband’s house, sudden sadness and regret filled her heart. She began to search through her ex-husband’s important papers and saw the still new Bible, just as she had left it years before. With tears, she opened the Bible and began to turn the pages. Her ex-husband had carefully underlined a verse, Matthew 7:11, ‘And if you, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more shall your Heavenly Father, who is in heaven, give what is good to those who ask Him?’

As she read those words, a tiny package dropped from the back of the Bible. It had a diamond ring, with her name engraved on it — the same diamond ring which she saw at the showroom. On the tag was the date of her birth, and the words. ‘LUV U ALWAYS’.

How many times do we miss God’s blessings, because they are not packaged as we expected?

“If your gift is not packaged the way you want it, it’s because it is better packaged the way it is.”

“Always appreciate little things;
they usually lead you to bigger and better things.”

“The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched…
They must be felt with the heart.”

Almighty Father, give me a cheerful and grateful heart that never fails to recognize Your blessings regardless of what package they may come in. You know what is best for me dear Lord; teach me to trust always in Your Divine wisdom. Amen.

Tommy’s Story

Rev. John Powell, a professor at Loyola University in Chicago, writes about a student in his Theology of Faith class named Tommy:

Some twelve years ago, I stood watching my university students file into the classroom for our first session in the Theology of Faith. That was the day I first saw Tommy. My eyes and my mind both blinked. He was combing his long flaxen hair, which hung six inches below his shoulders. It was the first time I had ever seen a boy with hair that long. I guess it was just coming into fashion then. I know in my mind that it isn’t what’s on your head but what’s in it that counts; but on that day I was unprepared and my emotions flipped. I immediately filed Tommy under “S” for strange… Very strange.

Tommy turned out to be the “Atheist in residence” in my Theology of Faith course. He constantly objected to, smirked at, or whined about the possibility of an unconditionally loving Father/God. We lived with each other in relative peace for one semester, although I admit he was for me at times a serious pain in the back pew. When he came up at the end of the course to turn in his final exam, he asked in a cynical tone, “Do you think I’ll ever find God?” I decided instantly on a little shock therapy. “No!” I said very emphatically. “Why not,” he responded, “I thought that was the product you were pushing.” I let him get five steps from the classroom door and then called out, “Tommy! I don’t think you’ll ever find Him, but I am absolutely certain that He will find you!”

He shrugged a little and left my class and my life.

I felt slightly disappointed at the thought that he had missed my clever line — He will find you! At least I thought it was clever. Later I heard that Tommy had graduated, and I was duly grateful.

Then a sad report came. I heard that Tommy had terminal cancer. Before I could search him out, he came to see me. When he walked into my office, his body was very badly wasted and the long hair had all fallen out as a result of chemotherapy. But his eyes were bright and his voice was firm, for the first time, I believe. “Tommy, I’ve thought about you so often; I hear you are sick,” I blurted out. “Oh, yes, very sick. I have cancer in both lungs. It’s a matter of weeks.” “Can you talk about it, Tom?” I asked. “Sure, what would you like to know?” he replied. “What’s it like to be only twenty-four and dying?” “Well, it could be worse.” “Like What?” “Well like being fifty, and having no values, thinking that drinking booze, seducing women, and making money are the real biggies in life.” I began looking through my mental file cabinet under “S” where I had filed Tommy as strange. (It seems as though everybody I try to reject by classification, God sends back into my life to educate me.)

“But what I really came to see you about,” Tom said, “is something you said to me on the last day of class.” (He remembered!) He continued, “I asked you if you thought I would ever find God and you said, ‘No!’ which surprised me. Then you said, ‘But He will find you.’ I thought about that a lot, even though my search for God was hardly intense at that time.” (My clever line. He thought about that a lot!)

“But when the doctors removed a lump from my groin and told me that it was malignant, that’s when I got serious about locating God. And when the malignancy spread into my vital organs, I really began banging bloody fists against the bronze doors of heaven. But God did not come out. In fact, nothing happened. Did you ever try anything for a long time with great effort and with no success? You get psychologically glutted, fed up with trying. And then you quit.

“Well, one day I woke up, and instead of throwing a few more futile appeals over that high brick wall to a God who may be or may not be there, I just quit. I decided that I didn’t really care about God, about an after life, or anything like that. I decided to spend what time I had left doing something more profitable. I thought about you and your class and I remembered something else you had said: ‘The essential sadness is to go through life without loving. But it would be almost equally sad to go through life and leave this world without ever telling those you loved that you had loved them.’” “So, I began with the hardest one, my Dad. He was reading the newspaper when I approached him. “Dad. “Yes, what?” he asked without lowering the newspaper. “Dad, I would like to talk with you.” “Well, talk.” “I mean . It’s really important.”

The newspaper came down three slow inches. “What is it?” “Dad, I love you, I just wanted you to know that.” Tom smiled at me and said it with obvious satisfaction, as though he felt a warm and secret joy flowing inside of him. “The newspaper fluttered to the floor. Then my father did two things I could never remember him ever doing before.. He cried and he hugged me. We talked all night, even though he had to go to work the next morning. It felt so good to be close to my father, to see his tears, to feel his hug, to hear him say that he loved me.”

“It was easier with my mother and little brother. They cried with me, too, and we hugged each other, and started saying real nice things to each other. We shared the things we had been keeping secret for so many years.

“I was only sorry about one thing — that I had waited so long. Here I was, just beginning to open up to all the people I had actually been close to.

“Then, one day I turned around and God was there. He didn’t come to me when I pleaded with Him. I guess I was like an animal trainer holding out a hoop, ‘C’mon, jump through. C’mon, I’ll give you three days, three weeks.’”

“Apparently God does things in His own way and at His own hour. But the important thing is that He was there. He found me! You were right. He found me even after I stopped looking for Him.”

“Tommy,” I practically gasped, “I think you are saying something very important and much more universal than you realize. To me, at least, you are saying that the surest way to find God is not to make Him a private possession, a problem solver, or an instant consolation in time of need, but rather by opening to love. You know, the Apostle John said that. He said: ‘God is love, and anyone who lives in love is living with God and God is living in him.’ Tom, could I ask you a favor? You know, when I had you in class you were a real pain. But (laughingly) you can make it all up to me now. Would you come into my present Theology of Faith course and tell them what you have just told me? If I told them the same thing it wouldn’t be half as effective as if you were to tell it.”

“Oooh.. I was ready for you, but I don’t know if I’m ready for your class.”

“Tom, think about it. If and when you are ready, give me a call.”

In a few days Tom called, said he was ready for the class, that he wanted to do that for God and for me. So we scheduled a date.

However, he never made it. He had another appointment, far more important than the one with me and my class. Of course, his life was not really ended by his death, only changed. He made the great step from faith into vision. He found a life far more beautiful than the eye of man has ever seen or the ear of man has ever heard or the mind of man has ever imagined. Before he died, we talked one last time. “I’m not going to make it to your class,” he said.

“I know, Tom.”

“Will you tell them for me? Will you … tell the whole world for me?” “I will, Tom. I’ll tell them. I’ll do my best.”

So, to all of you who have been kind enough to read this simple story about God’s love, thank you for listening. And to you, Tommy, somewhere in the sunlit, verdant hills of heaven — I told them, Tommy, as best I could.

- Rev. John Powell, Professor, Loyola University, Chicago

Almighty Father, give me the grace to open up my self to love. So that in doing so, I may allow You to find me — to heal me, to empower me, and to transform me more and more into the person You have destined me to be. Amen.

The Difference Between Rich and Poor People

This short story does not justify poverty nor condemn wealth. It just aims to show us a different perspective of life and tries to remind us to appreciate whatever it is that we are blessed with.

The Difference Between Rich and Poor People

One day, the father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the express purpose of showing him how poor people live.

They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.

On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, “How was the trip?”

“It was great, Dad.”

“Did you see how poor people live?” the father asked.

“Oh yeah,” said the son.

“So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.

The son answered:

“I saw that we have one dog and they had four.

We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.

We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.

Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.

We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.

We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.

We buy our food, but they grow theirs.

We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”

The boy’s father was speechless.

Then his son added, “Thanks Dad for showing me how poor we are.”

Isn’t perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don’t have.

Appreciate every single thing you have, including your real friends!

“Life is too short and real friends are too few.”

Mayonnaise Jar and 2 Cups of Coffee

When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 cups of coffee.

A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, he wordlessly picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.

The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “yes.”

The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed.

“Now,” said the professor as the laughter subsided, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things–God, your family, your children, your health, your friends and your favorite passions–and if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car. The sand is everything else–the small stuff.”

“If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued, “there is no room for the pebbles or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff you will never have room for the things that are important to you.”Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your spouse out to dinner. Play another 18. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first–the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.”

One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled. “I’m glad you asked.. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there’s always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend.”

Take care of your parents…

Another one of those inspiring articles being passed around through emails. This is worth reading.

And please do realize that the best time to show our love to our parents is now.

In this short but moving story, a simple man tells how his booking an air ticket for his father, his first flight, brought emotions and made him realize how much and how often we take for granted our parents.

My parents left for our native place on Thursday and we went to the Airport to see them off. In fact, my father had never travelled by air before, so I just took this opportunity to make him experience the same. In spite of being asked to book tickets by train, I got them tickets on Lufthansa.

The moment I handed over the tickets to him, he was surprised to see that I had booked them by air. The excitement was very apparent on his face, waiting for the time of travel. Just like a school boy, he was preparing himself on that day and we all went to the airport, right from using the trolley for his luggage, the baggage check-in and asking for window seat and waiting restlessly for the security check-in to happen.

He was thoroughly enjoying himself and I, too, was overcome with joy watching him experience all these things.

As they were about to go in for the security check-in, he walked up to me with tears in his eyes and thanked me. He became very emotional and it was not as if I had done something great but the fact that this meant a great deal to him.

When he said thanks, I told him there was no need to thank me.

But later, thinking about the entire incident, I looked back at my life.

As a child, how many dreams have our parents made come true? Without understanding the financial situation, we ask for football, dresses, toys, outings, etc. Irrespective of their affordability, they have satisfied all our needs. Did we ever think about the sacrifices they had to make to accommodate many of our wishes?

Did we ever say thanks for all that they have done for us?

Same way, today, when it comes to our children, we always think that we should put them in a good school. Regardless of the amount of donation, we will ensure that we will have to give the child the best — theme parks, toys, etc. But we tend to forget that our parents have sacrificed a lot for our sake to see us happy, so it is our responsibility to ensure that their dreams are realized and what they failed to see when they were young, it is our responsibility to ensure that they experience all those and that their life is complete.

Many times, when my parents had asked me some questions, I have actually answered back without patience. When my daughter asks me something, I have been very polite in answering. Now I realize how they would have felt at those moments.

Let us realize that old age is a second childhood and just as we take care of our children, the same attention and same care need to be given to our parents and elders.

Rather than my dad saying thank you to me, I would want to say sorry for making him wait so long for this small dream. I do realize how much he has sacrificed for my sake and I will do my best to give the best possible attention to all their wishes. Just because they are old does not mean that they will have to give up everything and keep sacrificing for their grandchildren also. They have wishes, too.

Take care of your parents.

Prayer for a Happy Death

By Corazon C. Aquino
Philippine Daily Inquirer, 07/10/2009

Almighty God, most merciful Father
You alone know the time
You alone know the hour
You alone know the moment
When I shall breathe my last.

So, remind me each day,
most loving Father
To be the best that I can be.
To be humble, to be kind,
To be patient, to be true.
To embrace what is good,
To reject what is evil,
To adore only You.

When the final moment does come
Let not my loved ones grieve for long.
Let them comfort each other
And let them know
how much happiness
They brought into my life.
Let them pray for me,
As I will continue to pray for them,
Hoping that they will always pray
for each other.

Let them know that they made possible
Whatever good I offered to our world.
And let them realize that our separation
Is just for a short while
As we prepare for our reunion in eternity.

Our Father in heaven,
You alone are my hope.
You alone are my salvation.
Thank you for your unconditional love, Amen.

Eternal rest grant unto the soul of our beloved Former President Corazon C. Aquino, oh God;

and let Perpetual Light shine upon her.

May she rest in peace. Amen.

What Kind Of Daddy Do You Have?

… prayers …

I am so moved by this week’s article of Bo Sanchez that I really had to share this with you. You may want to visit his website and subscribe to his weekly Soulfood Letter that will surely nourish your soul and help you become a better man or woman for God’s greater glory.

I pray that this article would bless you in a lot of ways.

And as Bo always says, “May your dreams come true!”

http://bosanchez.ph/what-kind-of-daddy-do-you-have/

What Kind of Daddy Do You Have?

by Bo Sanchez (full article)

A college student in Manila called up his Mom in the province.

“Mom, I need money,” he asked. “Can you send money over please?”

“Sure,” the mother said. “By the way, there’s a Math textbook you left here at home. I’ll send it over with the money.”

“Uh, oh yeah, Ok,” her son answered.

His mother sent the money and the book.

Later that day, the father asked his wife, “How much money did you send?”

She said, “I sent two checks. One was a P1000 check and the other was a P100,000 check.”

“What?” cried the father in shock. “That’s huge!”

His wife smiled. “That’s okay Honey. I taped the P1000 check on the cover of his Math textbook. I then inserted the P100,000 check somewhere in chapter 25 of his Math textbook. Believe me, he won’t find it.”

Your relationship with God is like a Math textbook. Because I believe the biggest blessings of God for your life are in “chapter 25”—when you go beyond the surface and go deeper in this relationship with God.

My goal today is to bring you to chapter 25 in your relationship with God.

Let me tell you how.

I want to start a new series today I’ll playfully call, OMG! If you don’t know what that means, LOL. (For those my age who didn’t grow up with chat and IM and facebook: OMG! means Oh my God and LOL means Laugh out loud.)

For the next five weeks, I want to help you get to know God more—which will deepen your trust in Him. And the more you trust Him, the more you’ll be open to His blessings for your life.

I’ve met a lot of people who don’t trust God because they don’t know Him. They’re confused with misrepresentations of who God is.

Here’s what I learned: Your problems are big because your God is small.

Before Anything Else, God Is Daddy

I just arrived from the US the other day.

It was my shortest trip ever: Four days!

But I had to do it.

I was there to meet a very special man who was a spiritual mentor to Presidents, Kings, Prime Ministers, and other heads of government. In other words, he disciples them to follow Jesus. He’s awesome.

This spiritual giant has been working in the United Nations for the past 25 years. Each month, he holds 30+ face-to-face meetings with heads of government, ambassadors, and other high-level officials, guiding them how to lead their country using the Bible.

So for three whole days, I sat around his table (we were just four students—myself, two bishops, and a secretary general) to learn one thing: How to disciple Heads of States. It was mind-blowing.

So on my way back, I felt very important too.

I mean, how couldn’t I?

I spent three days with a guy who takes phone calls from Presidents and Prime Ministers before he has breakfast. How cool is that?

But the moment my plane landed in Manila, everything became clear to me. I knew the first Heads of States I would meet.

That entire day, upon arriving from the airport, I spent time with the two Kings who’ve conquered my heart since I saw them: My two boys—ages 9 and 4.

Together, we did very high-level, critical, world-changing, life-altering work.

We drew robots and airplanes.

We played with little cars.

We played a video game (I lost, as usual).

We jumped around the coach.

Why did I spend the entire day with them?

Because I believe that before I’m a preacher, writer, leader, missionary, and businessman, I’m a father.

And I suspect that God will say the same thing. This is just my personal opinion. I think before God is supreme judge and king of kings of the entire universe, He’s a Father. That’s why when someone asked Jesus, “Teach us how to pray,” He answered, “Say this: Our Father…”

The original word that Jesus used for “Father” is Abba, which doesn’t really translate to Father but Daddy or Papa. It was what a little baby would call his father.

But as I played with my boys yesterday, I began to think of all the other children who don’t experience what they experience. And I believe that one of the reasons why we don’t know God as Father is because of the wrong fatherhood we’ve experienced.

Specifically, I thought of four of my friends: Emmanuel, Grace, Dulce, and Fides. I’ve changed their names to protect their privacy.

But unfortunately, their stories are true.

Invisible Fathers

My friend Emmanuel’s father was a lawyer. Later on, he became a judge and was promoted all the way to the Supreme Court.

Emmanuel was proud of his father. But when our conversations became intimate, he’d tear up, and tell me that he rarely saw his father. When he woke up, his father was rushing out for his breakfast meetings. In the evenings, his father wasn’t home yet.

Emmanuel grew up knowing his father was an important man doing very important things. But as he grew up, he realized he wasn’t one of these important things his father did.

Years later, Emmanuel came to know God in a personal way. Yet for years, he wondered how important he really was in God’s heart.

Autistic Fathers

Some fathers are physically present at home.

But they don’t engage their kids.

Instead, they’re wrapped up in their own world. Either watching TV or surfing the web. That’s why I call them autistic fathers.

Many years ago, I met Grace. She told me that as a child, her goal in life was to make her father smile at her. Because he never did.

Oh, she would find him laughing with his barkada.

But never to her.

One day, she came home with very high grades on her report card. In her heart, she hoped that perhaps today, he would smile at her.

But when she gave him the report card, all her father did was look at it for two seconds, grunt, tossed it back, and went back watching TV.

Not one word of affirmation or appreciation.

Her little heart was crushed.

For years, Grace had a hard time imagining that God was pleased with her. She always imagined God having a perpetual frown on his face.

Cruel Fathers

Dulce’s father is the most barbaric father I’ve ever heard of in my life.

When she was 3 years old, he raped her.

Years later, she always had this nightmare of her head being pushed into a toilet bowl. She realized why. Because her father warned her not to tell anyone of the rape or he’d drown her in the toilet.

For the next ten years, for the slightest mistakes (such as a spilled glass of milk), her father would whip her with his belt until blood flowed. When he was lashing her, her mother would tell him, “Don’t hit her below the knees!” So that the wounds would be covered by her skirt.

He would then grab her ankles, hang her upside down, and bang her head on the floor. He would do this for thirty minutes until she stopped crying and was a lifeless rag in his hands. He would do this each week for ten long years.

Here’s the absurd fact of this story: Until the day he died, her father was an elder and deacon in church. To everyone else, he was an angel. Upon arriving home, he was the devil incarnate—and no one knew.

Dulce is now an adult but suffers massive physical, emotional, and spiritual torments. She has gone through 9 surgeries in various parts of her body. Her doctors discovered micro-strokes in her brain, caused by the head banging she suffered as a child. But her emotional pain was even more severe than her physical pain.

I’m happy to say that Dulce enjoys an intimate relationship with God. God has healed and continues to heal her. But it took years of healing and learning to trust a tender loving Father.

Unfaithful Father

Fides was still a small child when she saw her father walk out of their house carrying his suitcase. At that time, she didn’t know that he was abandoning her, her mother, and her two brothers for another woman.

Unlike her brothers who rebelled and got into drugs, Fides became even more obedient. She became even more responsible. Her school grades shot to the moon. Everyone praised her for being such a good girl.

Later on, Fides realized she blamed herself for the separation of her parents. Inexplicably, she believed that if she were only a better girl, her father would have never left. And for years, she secretly hoped that if she became that better girl, perhaps her father would come back.

For years, Fides’ relationship with God was also about buying His love. She would always try to be good to try to please Him—so He would love her. She had this constant fear that if she made one mistake, God would abandon her too.

May The Real God The Father Please Stand Up?

For many Christians, it’s so much easier to pray to Jesus. After all, He died for our sins. He’s the sweet one. The Father was the mean guy who sent Jesus to die on the cross.

And for many Catholics, it’s so much easier to pray to Mother Mary than to God the Father. Because they believe Mary is more merciful than God. If you can’t go through the front door, go to the back door—Mary has the key.

Which is utterly preposterous.

We have these difficulties because we don’t know who the Father really is.

The Father and the Son are one. And Mother Mary is a beautiful reflection of God’s love for us.

May the real God The Father please stand up?

I changed the names of our four real-life characters. I chose each name deliberately to show you who God the Father is: He is Emmanuel, Grace, Dulce, and Fides.

Daddy Is Emmanuel

A tribe in Africa had a very scary manhood ritual.

When a boy turned 12, the entire community gathered around him for this once-in-a-life-time chanting and dancing ceremony. The elderly women painted red die on his face. His mother gave him a beaded necklace. And the tribal chieftain handed him a long knife with a carved wooden handle.

By nightfall, he was blindfolded and led by six men into the middle of the forest. Once deep inside, the men left him. Alone. In total pitch darkness.

The instruction was simple. Survive until dawn, and he gets accepted as a real man in the tribe.

But the young boy knew very well that the forest was an incredibly dangerous place. It was the home of tigers. Snakes. Bears. Hyenas.

And so for the entire night, this scrawny little 12-year-old boy was now all alone in the forest. The entire night, he held his knife trembling in his hand. Not for one moment could he rest. Try as he might, his eyes could see nothing but shadows around him. In his imagination, every little sound—even a leaf swaying in the wind—was a wild animal ready to pounce on him at any moment.

The whole night, he could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

When his terror overwhelmed him, tears ran down his cheeks. He wanted to shout, “I’m just a little boy! I’m not ready yet to be a man!” But who could hear him now? He was all alone.

But after many hours of fighting his fear and exhaustion, his eyes could see more clearly. Dawn was approaching. The first shafts of sunlight pierced through the thick canopy of leaves above him.

That was when the little boy felt something move behind him.

In terror, he turned around.

And there, standing tall on a rock behind him, was the towering figure of a fierce-looking man holding a long spear.

The boy shouted, “Daddy!”

The father smiled.

“When did you arrive?” the boy asked, “Are you here to pick me up?”

The father said, “Before you arrived last night, I was already here. I stood guard, protecting you the whole time. I never left you for one moment, my son.”

Daddy is Emmanuel—which means God with us.

Friend, I don’t know what darkness you’re going through right now. Perhaps you’re praying for your child who is on drugs. Or your husband is having an affair. Or you’re having financial problems right now. Remember that in your darkness, God is with you. He will never leave or abandon you.

When you’re in pain, God embraces you and feels your pain. He weeps with you. Because Daddy is Emmanuel.

Daddy is Grace

When I think of Grace giving her very high report card to her father—and all he did was grunt—I remember my own experience with my report card.

When I was in grade school, my report card had red marks. (At least, it was colored. Yours was just black and white.) Because I failed in Math and Pilipino.

That day, I went up to Mom and showed her my report card.

All she said was, “Show it to your father.”

Gulp. Oh boy. I walked up to Dad and gave it to him.

He read it, nodded his head, and handed it back to me, and said, “Son, just study some more.”

No spanking. No scolding. No disapproval.

He then said, “Let’s eat.”

That’s why for the rest of my academic life, I kept failing. (Hehe.)

I guess Dad knew that my brilliance wasn’t in academics. It would bloom elsewhere. (Ahem.)

I thank God for having parents who loved me whether I performed in school or not. They just loved me, period. Unconditionally.

Daddy means Grace. Grace means gift.

Two weeks ago, my son Bene came up to me and showed me his Math exam. He was sad because out of 100 points, he got 92. I couldn’t help but laugh. Because if I got 92, my mother would have fainted. Because when I was a kid, out of 100 points, I would get 36. One time, I got 28. I would show those test papers to Dad. And all he’d say was, “Just do better next time.”

Grace means “free gift”.

Here’s my point: You don’t have to please God so that He loves you. He loves you as you are. He accepts you totally.

I don’t care what sin you committed. I don’t care how many times you’ve done it. God loves you and will forgive you of your sins. It will be this love that will bring you to repentance and a new life.

Because Daddy is grace.

Daddy Is Dulce

Dulce means sweet.

I believe God is the sweetest Daddy in the world.

A few years ago, I was in a preaching tour in the US.

I remember one big event. After the last song, I was signing my books. There was an unusually long line of people who wanted my autograph. In front of me were four ushers telling people to wait for their turn.

That was when someone ran past the long line of people, squeezed himself in between the ushers, and ducked underneath the table. He then climbed on my lap, handed me a bottle of water, and said, “Please open, Daddy. I’m thirsty.”

Bene was four years old at that time.

Obviously, I stopped signing books and opened his bottle.

How could Bene do that? Because he was my son and I was his Daddy.

He was confident that I wouldn’t reject him. He knew that I loved him more than the entire world.

This is what Jesus meant when he taught us the “Our Father”.

Like Bene, we too can run to God, climb on his lap, and ask for what we need.

Because Daddy is dulce.

Daddy Is Fides

I like to believe I’m a good father.

But I’m nothing compared to Dick Hoyt and his love for his son Rick.

In 1962, while baby Rick was in the womb of his mother, he was strangled by the umbilical cord—causing a lack of oxygen in his brain. He suffered cerebral palsy and couldn’t speak or control his arms or legs.

As an eight month old baby, doctors told Dick and his wife Judy to place the child in an institution. “Because he was going to be a vegetable all his life,” they said. But the parents refused and brought him home. Dick promised that he would try to give his son as normal a life as possible.

Fast forward today: Dick learned that Rick loved sports. After a lot of pain and exercise (Dick wasn’t athletic), he pushed Rick in a wheelchair in a 5 kilometer run. After the Run, Rick said that while he was in the race, he didn’t feel an invalid.

That was the start of a great adventure. Today, this father-and-son team has participated in 66 marathons and 229 triathlons.

While running, Dick would push his son in a wheelchair.

While swimming, Dick would pull him in a rubber boat.

While biking, Dick would carry him at the front of his bike.

When I watched the life of Dick and Rick Hoyt, I saw a glimpse of God’s love. This is the Father’s love for you.

I don’t know about you, but I must admit that I’m handicapped in many areas of my life. I’ve got weaknesses I still battle to this day.

But in this adventure called life, I’ve experienced my God pushing me, pulling me, and carrying me in his arms.

I know God does the same to you.

Fides means faith. The root word for faithfulness.

God has faith in you. He believes in you.

Daddy is fides.

Next week, I’ll talk about God as Leader.

May your dreams come true,

Bo Sanchez

Without Seeing You (lyrics by David Haas)

I can’t help but be moved by the message of this song. Perhaps, this is what faith in an ‘unseen’ God really is all about.

From the website where I got the lyrics:

This poignant prayer reminds us to have faith even when it is easier to doubt. As the risen Jesus uttered to Thomas: “Blessed are they who have not seen, and yet believe.”

Without Seeing You

music and lyrics by David Haas

Without seeing You we love You.
Without touching You we embrace.
Without knowing You we follow.
Without seeing You we believe.

Verse 1:
We return to You deep within, leave the past to the dust.
Turn to you with tears and fasting, You are ready to forgive. (Refrain)

Verse 2:
The sparrow will find a home near to You oh God.
How happy we who dwell with You, forever in Your house. (Refrain)

Verse 3:
For You are our shepherd there is nothing that we need.
In green pastures we will find our way, in waters of peace. (Refrain)

Source: http://www.hangad.org/pages/ministry/recordings/songs.php?action=viewsong&song_id=00062

Cast-Down Sheep

Here’s an article I’ve read from my daily devotional – Our Daily Journey. I find it very inspiring so please allow me to share it with you. As you go through it, you may ask yourselves two questions:

First, what has caused me to be in a cast-down position? Is it pride, thinking I could do things on my own? That I do not need a Shepherd at all? That my strength is sufficient for me to survive the dangers and struggles of life? Is it groundless fear or useless anxiety? Resorting to nonsense panic at the smallest thought of discomfort, pain or hardship?

And second, how will I trust the Shepherd to restore my soul? It is hard to lay down and entrust myself to a God whom I cannot see. But this is the very same God who has breathed life into my very being. The One who knew me and cared for me when I was still in the darkness of my mother’s womb. The One who had plans of greatness for me even before I was born.

At a certain point in our lives, we all have to admit that we are cast-down and acquaint ourselves with the pains of falling before we discover the real Source of our strength. Yes, falling down isn’t the end of it all. The Shepherd is there to lovingly help us get back on our feet. We just have to let go of our pride, fears and anxieties and allow Him to soothe our pains and rejuvenate our souls.

Please do share your valuable thoughts. God bless you!

From “Our Daily Bread”

Phillip Keller, in his classic book A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23, gives a striking picture of the care and gentleness of the shepherd. When David said, “He restores my soul”, he chose language that every shepherd would understand. A sheep is built in such a way, that if it falls over on its side and onto its back, it is very difficult for it to get up again. In this position, it flails its legs in the air, bleats, and cries. After a few hours on its back, gas begins to collect on its stomach, the stomach hardens, and the sheep suffocates. This position is called a cast-down position. A cast-down sheep needs a loving shepherd to restore it.

To restore a cast-down sheep takes time. The first thing a shepherd does is massage its four legs to restore circulation. Then while calmly reassuring the sheep with his voice [yep…a sheep recognizes his shepherd’s voice], he gently turns its over, puts his hand under the sheep’s belly, lifts it up, and holds it so it can gain equilibrium. When the shepherd feels that the sheep can stand on its own, he lets the animal go and watches it take a few faltering steps. He has restored a cast-down sheep.

What a picture of what God does for us! When we are on our back, flailing because of guilt, grief, and grudges, our loving Shepherd reassures us with His words. With His tender hands, He lifts us and carries us until we’ve gained spiritual equilibrium.

Jesus wants to restore your soul. Let Him remove your guilt, relieve your grief, and replace your grudges. If you’ve been “cast down” for any reason, He’s the only one who can help you get on your feet again. He is your confidence, joy, peace, and strength.

Blogger’s note: Apologies for the insufficient citation especially as to the author of this article. As of this reposting, I do not have the copy of the devotional.

The Paradox of Our Time

This article was written by Dr. Moorehead in 1990. He is a minister, author, and former pastor of Overlake Christian Church in Redmond, Washington. This was later published in 1995 in his book “Words Aptly Spoken”.

The Paradox of Our Time

The paradox of our time in history is that we have taller buildings but shorter tempers, wider freeways, but narrower viewpoints. We spend more, but have less, we buy more, but enjoy less. We have bigger houses and smaller families, more conveniences, but less time. We have more degrees but less sense, more knowledge, but less judgment, more experts, yet more problems, more medicine, but less wellness.

We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little, drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom.

We have multiplied our possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and hate too often.

We’ve learned how to make a living, but not a life. We’ve added years to life not life to years. We’ve been all the way to the moon and back, but have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer space but not inner space. We’ve done larger things, but not better things.

We’ve cleaned up the air, but polluted the soul. We’ve conquered the atom, but not our prejudice… We write more, but learn less. We plan more, but accomplish less. We’ve learned to rush, but not to wait. We build more computers to hold more information, to produce more copies than ever, but we communicate less and less.

These are the times of fast foods and slow digestion, big men and small character, steep profits and shallow relationships. These are the days of two incomes but more divorce, fancier houses, but broken homes. These are days of quick trips, disposable diapers, throwaway morality, one night stands, overweight bodies, and pills that do everything from cheer, to quiet, to kill. It is a time when there is much in the showroom window and nothing in the stockroom. A time when technology can bring this letter to you, and a time when you can choose either to share this insight, or to just hit delete…

Remember, spend some time with your loved ones, because they are not going to be around forever.

Remember, say a kind word to someone who looks up to you in awe, because that little person soon will grow up and leave your side.

Remember, to give a warm hug to the one next to you, because that is the only treasure you can give with your heart and it doesn’t cost a cent.

Remember, to say, ‘I love you’ to your partner and your loved ones, but most of all mean it. A kiss and an embrace will mend hurt when it comes from deep inside of you.

Remember to hold hands and cherish the moment for someday that person will not be there again.

Give time to love, give time to speak! And give time to share the precious thoughts in your mind.

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”

Faith

An atheist professor of philosophy speaks to his class on the problem science has with God, The Almighty. He asks one of his new Christian students to stand and…..

Prof: You are a Christian, aren’t you, son?

Student: Yes, sir.

Prof: So you believe in God?

Student: Absolutely, sir.

Prof: Is God good?

Student: Sure.

Prof: Is God all-powerful?

Student : Yes.

Prof: My brother died of cancer even though he prayed to God to heal him. Most of us would attempt to help others who are ill. But God didn’t. How is this God good then? Hmm?

(Student is silent.)

Prof: You can’t answer, can you? Let’s start again, young fella. Is God good?

Student :Yes.

Prof: Is Satan good?

Student : No.

Prof: Where does Satan come from?

Student : From…God…

Prof: That’s right. Tell me son, is there evil in this world?

Student : Yes.

Prof: Evil is everywhere, isn’t it? And God did make everything. Correct?

Student : Yes.

Prof: So who created evil?

(Student does not answer.)

Prof: Is there sickness? Immorality? Hatred? Ugliness? All these terrible things exist in the world, don’t they?

Student :Yes, sir.

Prof: So, who created them?

(Student has no answer.)

Prof: Science says you have 5 senses you use to identify and observe the world around you. Tell me, son…Have you ever seen God?

Student : No, sir.

Prof: Tell us if you have ever heard your God?

Student : No, sir.

Prof: Have you ever felt your God, tasted your God, smelled your God? Have you ever had any sensory perception of God for that matter?

Student : No, sir. I’m afraid I haven’t.

Prof: Yet you still believe in Him?

Student : Yes.

Prof: According to empirical, testable, demonstrable protocol, science says your GOD doesn’t exist. What do you say to that, son?

Student : Nothing. I only have my faith.

Prof: Yes. Faith. And that is the problem science has.

Student : Professor, is there such a thing as heat?

Prof: Yes.

Student : And is there such a thing as cold?

Prof: Yes.

Student : No sir. There isn’t.

(The lecture theatre becomes very quiet with this turn of events.)

Student : Sir, you can have lots of heat, even more heat, superheat, mega heat, white heat, a little heat or no heat. But we don’t have anything called cold. We can hit 458 degrees below zero which is no heat, but we can’t go any further after that. There is no such thing as cold. Cold is only a word we use to describe the absence of heat. We cannot measure cold. Heat is energy. Cold is not the opposite of heat, sir, just the absence of it.

(There is pin-drop silence in the lecture theatre.)

Student : What about darkness, Professor? Is there such a thing as darkness?

Prof: Yes. What is night if there isn’t darkness?

Student : You’re wrong again, sir. Darkness is the absence of something. You can have low light, normal light, bright light, flashing light….But if you have no light constantly, you have nothing and it’s called darkness, isn’t it? In reality, darkness isn’t. If it were, you would be able to make darkness darker, wouldn’t you?

Prof: So what is the point you are making, young man?

Student : Sir, my point is your philosophical premise is flawed.

Prof: Flawed? Can you explain how?

Student : Sir, you are working on the premise of duality. You argue there is life and then there is death, a good God and a bad God. You are viewing the concept of God as something finite, something we can measure. Sir, science can’t even explain a thought. It uses electricity and magnetism, but has never seen, much less fully understood either one. To view death as the opposite of life is to be ignorant of the fact that death cannot exist as asubstantive thing. Death is not the opposite of life: just the absence of it. Now tell me, Professor. Do you teach your students that they evolved from a monkey?

Prof: If you are referring to the natural evolutionary process, yes, of course, I do.

Student : Have you ever observed evolution with your own eyes, sir?

(The Professor shakes his head with a smile, beginning to realize where the argument is going.)

Student : Since no one has ever observed the process of evolution at work and cannot even prove that this process is an on-going endeavour, are you not teaching your opinion, sir? Are you not a scientist but a preacher?

(The class is in uproar.)

Student : Is there anyone in the class who has ever seen the Professor’s brain?

(The class breaks out into laughter.)

Student : Is there anyone here who has ever heard the Professor’s brain, felt it, touched or smelled it?…..No one appears to have done so. So, according to the established rules of empirical, stable, demonstrable protocol, science says that you have no brain, sir. With all due respect, sir, how do we then trust your lectures, sir?

(The room is silent. The professor stares at the student, his face unfathomable.)

Prof: I guess you’ll have to take them on faith, son.

Student : That is it, sir.. The link between man & God is FAITH. That is all that keeps things moving & alive.

Proverbs 3:5-6 (New International Version)

5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart
and lean not on your own understanding;

6 in all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make your paths straight.

In God's Eyes

This is quite a long read. But it should be worth it. I need not say much. Yet I have to admit that this has brought tears to my eyes.

IN GOD’S EYES
by Candace Carteen, Portland, Oregon

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

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

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

I hated to be seen with him. Everyone stared. They seemed to pity me. I knew he must have done something really bad to have God hate him that much.

By the time I was seventeen, I was blaming all my problems on my father. I didn’t have the right boyfriends because of him. I didn’t drive the right car because of him. I wasn’t pretty enough because of him. I didn’t have the right jobs because of him. I wasn’t happy because of him.

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

The night of my senior prom came, and Father had to place one more nail in my coffin; he had volunteered to be one of the chaperones at the dance. My heart just sank when he told me. I stormed into my room, slammed the door, threw myself on the bed, and cried. “Three more weeks and I’ll be out of here!” I screamed into my pillow. “Three more weeks and I will have graduated and be moving away to college.” I sat up and took a deep breath. “God, please make my father go away and leave me alone. He keeps sticking his big nose in everything I do. Just make him disappear, so that I can have a good time at the dance.”

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

Midway through the dance, Father came out from behind the drapes and decided to embarrass me again. He started dancing with my girlfriends. One by one, he took their hand and led them to the dance floor. He then clumsily moved them in circles as the band played. Now I tried to vanish into the drapes. After Jane had danced with him, she headed my way. Oh, no! I thought. She’s going to tell me he stomped on her foot or something.

“Grace,” she called, “you have the greatest father.”

My face fell. “What?”

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

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

“What do you mean?” I asked her.

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

Then, Jane ran off to dance with her boyfriend.

I stood there in silence.

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

“He’s sure having a lot of fun.”

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

“Your father. He’s having a ball.”

“Yeah. I guess.” I didn’t know what else to say.

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

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

My boyfriend came back with two glasses of punch and handed me one.

“Well, what do you think of my father?” I asked out of the blue.

Terry looked surprised. “I like him. I always have.”

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

“I don’t know. Because he was different, and I was a dumb kid.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Loving Father, help us to stop judging people by this fleeting world’s harsh standards. Rather, give us the grace to see everybody, starting with our loved ones, with Your own loving eyes. Amen.

The Day Shay Got to Play (by EJ Nolan)

Perhaps most of you have already read this story being circulated around through emails. Nevertheless, let me once again share this story of unselfish love and unconditional friendship. No wonder the Lord said, “I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3, NIV).

The Day Shay Got To Play

by EJ Nolan

Chush is a school in Brooklyn, New York that caters to learning disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career.

At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of one student delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, “Where is the perfection in my son, Shay? Everything God does is done with perfection, but my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God’s perfection?”

The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father’s anguish and stilled by the piercing query. “I believe,” the father answered, “that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child.”

He then told the following story about his son Shay:

One afternoon, Shay and his father walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, “Do you think they will let me play?”

Shay’s father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shay’s father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging. Shay’s father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shay could play.The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said “We are losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him up to bat in the ninth inning.”

Shay’s father was ecstatic as Shay smiled broadly. Shay was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base. Shay was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shay bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, let alone hit with it. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay should at least be able to make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. One of Shay’s teammates came up to Shay and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay and his teammate swung at the ball and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shay would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field, far beyond reach of the first baseman.

Everyone started yelling, “Shay, run to first. Run to first.” Never in his life had Shay run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shay, who was still running. But the right fielder understood what the pitcher’s intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman’s head.

Everyone yelled, “Run to second, run to second.” Shay ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home.

As Shay reached second base, the opposing shortstop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, “Run to third.” As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, “Shay run home.”

Shay ran home, stepped on home plate and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a “grand slam” and won the game for his team.

“That day,” said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, “the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of the Divine Plan into this world.”

Shay didn’t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy, and coming home and seeing his mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

Some random thoughts on this story…

We all have thousands of opportunities every single day to help realize the ‘natural order of things.’

So many seemingly trivial interactions between two people present us with a choice:

Do we pass along a little spark of love and humanity or do we pass up those opportunities and leave the world a little bit colder in the process?

A wise man once said that every society is judged by how it treats the least fortunate among them.

May your day be a Shay Day!

Source: http://www.baseball-almanac.com/poetry/po_shay.shtml

...a thousand paper cranes...

Let me share with you this painful, yet truly wonderful, love story.

There was once this guy who is very much in love with his girl. This romantic guy folded 1,000 pieces of paper cranes as a gift to his girl. Although at that time, he was just a small fry in his company and his future didn’t seem too bright, they were very happy together. Until one day, his girl told him she was going to Paris and will never come back. She also told him that she cannot visualize any future for the both of them, so they went their own ways there and then…

The guy agreed with a broken heart. But when he regained his confidence, he worked hard day and night, slogging his body and mind just to make something out of himself… Finally, with all the hard work and the help of friends, this guy was able to set up his own company…

You never fail until you stop trying.

One rainy day, while this guy was driving, he saw an elderly couple sharing an umbrella in the rain walking to some destination. Even with the umbrella, they were still drenched. It didn’t take him long to realize they were his girl’s parents. With a heart in getting back at them, he drove slowly beside the couple, wanting them to spot him in his luxury sedan. He wanted them to know that he wasn’t the same any more; he had his own company, car, condo, etc . He made it!

What he saw next confused him. The couple was walking towards a cemetery, and so he got out of his car and followed…

And he saw his girl, a photograph of her smiling sweetly as ever at him from her tombstone and he saw his paper cranes right beside her.

Her parents saw him. He asked them why this had happened. They explained that she did not leave for France at all. She was ill with cancer. She had believed that he will make it someday, but she did not want to be his obstacle. Therefore, she had chosen to leave him.

Just because someone doesn’t love you the way you want them to, doesn’t mean they don’t love you with all they have.

She had wanted her parents to put his paper cranes beside her, because, if the day comes when fate brings him to her again, he can take some of those back with him.

Once you have loved, you will always love . For what’s in your mind may escape but what’s in your heart will remain forever.

The guy just wept…

The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside her knowing you can’t have her, see her or be with her ever again.

And finally…

Find time to realize that there is one person who means so much to you, for you might wake up one morning losing that person whom you thought meant nothing at all.

…So Jesus and Satan sat down at the keyboards and typed away…

This is one of the clean jokes I’ve read being passed around through emails. My prayer is that this simple story would strengthen your faith in a God Who loves you and Who is ever faithful to His promise to you… it’s in His Name

Jesus and Satan were having an on-going argument about who was better on the computer. They had been going at it for days, and frankly, the Father was tired of hearing all the bickering.

Finally fed up, the Father said, “THAT’S IT! I have had enough. I am going to set up a test that will run for two hours, and from those results, I will judge who does the better job.”

So Jesus and Satan sat down at the keyboards and typed away.

They moused.

They faxed.

They e-mailed.

They e-mailed with attachments.

They downloaded.

They did spreadsheets!

They wrote reports.

They created labels and cards.

They created charts and graphs.

They did some genealogy reports.

They did every job known to man.

Jesus worked with heavenly efficiency and Satan was faster than hell.

Then, ten minutes before their time was up, lightning suddenly flashed across the sky, thunder rolled, rain poured, and, of course, the power went off.

Satan stared at his blank screen and screamed every curse word known in the underworld.

Jesus just sighed.

Finally, the electricity came back on, and each of them restarted their computers.

Satan started searching frantically, screaming:

“It’s gone! It’s all GONE! “I lost everything when the power went out!”

Meanwhile, Jesus quietly started printing out all of his files from the past two hours of work.

Satan observed this and became irate.

“Wait!” he screamed. “That’s not fair! He cheated! How come he has all his work and I don’t have any?”

The Father just shrugged and said,

"JESUS SAVES"

Dearest Lord, teach me to trust in You. Give me the grace to believe in the saving power that comes from You alone. Let not the temptations of the evil one bring me to damnation. Instead, let your Holy Spirit work within me and empower me to do the good works that would reflect Your glory and make people see that You, oh dear Jesus, really saves. Amen.

This is Me... Just Checking In Today

Sharing with you this cute story that comes in a poem. It’s all about a genuine friendship that has been made available to us all! Be inspired and be very blessed! :)

This is Me… Just Checking In Today

A priest passing through his church
in the middle of the day,

Decided to pause by the altar
and see who had come to pray.

Just then the back door opened,
a man came down the aisle,

The minister frowned as he saw
the man hadn’t shaved in a while.

His shirt was kind a shabby
and his coat was worn and frayed,

The man knelt, he bowed his head,
then rose and walked away.

In the days that followed,
each noon time came this chap,

Each time he knelt just for a moment,
a lunch pail in his lap.

Well, the minister’s suspicions grew,
with robbery a main fear,

He decided to stop the man and ask him,
‘What are you doing here?’

The old man said, he worked down the road.
Lunch was half an hour.

Lunchtime was his prayer time,
for finding strength and power.

‘I stay only moments, see,
because the factory is so far away;

As I kneel here talking to the Lord,
This is kinda what I say:

‘I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD,
HOW HAPPY I’VE BEEN,
SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHER’S FRIENDSHIP
AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN.
DON’T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY,
BUT I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY.
SO, JESUS, THIS IS JIM
CHECKING IN TODAY.’

The minister feeling foolish,
told Jim, that was fine.

He told the man he was welcome
to come and pray just anytime.

Time to go, Jim smiled, said ‘Thanks.’
He hurried to the door.

The minister knelt at the altar,
he’d never done it before.

His cold heart melted, warmed with love,
and met with Jesus there.

As the tears flowed, in his heart,
he repeated old Jim’s prayer:

‘I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, LORD,
HOW HAPPY I’VE BEEN,
SINCE WE FOUND EACH OTHER’S FRIENDSHIP
AND YOU TOOK AWAY MY SIN.
I DON’T KNOW MUCH OF HOW TO PRAY, BUT
I THINK ABOUT YOU EVERYDAY.
SO, JESUS, THIS IS ME CHECKING IN TODAY’

Past noon one day, the minister noticed
that old Jim hadn’t come.

As more days passed without Jim,
he began to worry some.

At the factory, he asked about him,
learning he was ill.

The hospital staff was worried,
but he’d given them a thrill.

The week that Jim was with them,
brought changes in the ward.

His smiles, a joy contagious.
Changed people, were his reward.

The head nurse couldn’t understand
why Jim was so glad,

When no flowers, calls or cards came,
not a visitor he had.

The minister stayed by his bed,
he voiced the nurse’s concern:

No friends came to show they cared.
he had nowhere to turn.

Looking surprised, old Jim spoke up
and with a winsome smile,
‘the nurse is wrong, she couldn’t know,
that in here all the while
everyday at noon He’s here,
a dear friend of mine, you see,
He sits right down, takes my hand,
leans over and says to me:

‘I JUST CAME AGAIN TO TELL YOU, JIM,
HOW HAPPY I HAVE BEEN,
SINCE WE FOUND THIS FRIENDSHIP,
AND I TOOK AWAY YOUR SIN.
ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR YOU PRAY,
I THINK ABOUT YOU EACH DAY,
AND SO JIM, THIS IS JESUS
CHECKING IN TODAY.’

The Duck and the Devil

Sin gives us a sense of guilt. And this guilt brings us away from the grace of God.

Nevertheless, let us not forget that the love of God is much greater than all our sin. Much as He is a God of Justice, He is also our Friend, and certainly, a God of Mercy.

May we always find comfort and strength in this unchanging Love and may we always avail of his healing and empowering grace in the Holy Sacrament of Reconciliation.

The Duck & the Devil

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was given a slingshot to play with, out in the woods. He practiced in the woods; but he could never hit the target.

Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma’s pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head and killed it. He was shocked and grieved! In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile; only to see his sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch the next day Grandma said, ‘Sally, let’s wash the dishes’. But Sally said, ‘Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in then kitchen.’ Then she whispered to him, ‘Remember the duck?’

So Johnny did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, ‘I’m sorry but I need Sally to help make supper.’

Sally just smiled and said, ‘Well that’s all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help’.

She whispered again, ‘Remember the duck?’ So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally’s; he finally couldn’t stand it any longer.

He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck.

Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, ‘Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you.’

Thought for the day and every day thereafter?

Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done, and the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc., whatever it is. You need to know that God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing.

Reflections

He has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven. He’s just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.

The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness; He not only forgives you, but He forgets.

It is by God’s grace and mercy that we are saved.

God is at the window!

When Jesus died on the cross; he was thinking of you!

Almighty Father, give me the humility to confess my sins and the courage to amend my ways. May I not be discouraged by the many times I have fallen; instead, may Your loving mercy encourage me to keep on standing up and reaching out to You so that one day, I may become the person you have designed me to become; a reflector of Your glory and perfection, and a channel of Your peace and love. Amen.