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When I saw 'G': I thought of God, followed by 'U and 'I. Once again, I became willing to let God lead. This prayer is powerful and there is nothing attached. And I Hope You Dance! What in the world is going on down there on the planet? What happened to the dandelions, violets, milkweeds and stuff I started eons ago? I had a perfect no-maintenance garden plan.
Those plants grow in any type of soil, withstand drought and multiply with abandon. The nectar from the long-lasting blossoms attracts butterflies, honey bees and flocks of songbirds. I expected to see a vast garden of colors by now. But, all I see are these green rectangles.. It's the tribes that settled there, Lord. They started calling your flowers 'weeds' and went to great lengths to kill them and replace them with grass.
But, it's so boring. It doesn't attract butterflies, birds and bees; only grubs and sod worms. It's sensitive to temperatures.. Do these Suburbanites really want all that grass growing there? They go to great pains to grow it and keep it green. They begin each spring by fertilizing grass and poisoning any other plant that crops up in the lawn. The spring rains and warm weather probably make grass grow really fast. That must make the Suburbanites happy. As soon as it grows a little, they cut it-sometimes twice a week.
Do they then bale it like hay? Most of them rake it up and put it in bags. Is it a cash crop? Do they sell it? No, Sir, just the opposite. They pay to throw it away. Now, let me get this straight. They fertilize grass so it will grow. And, when it does grow, they cut it off and pay to throw it away? These Suburbanites must be relieved in the summer when we cut back on the rain and turn up the heat. That surely slows the growth and saves them a lot of work. You aren't going to believe this, Lord. When the grass stops growing so fast, they drag out hoses and pay more money to water it, so they can continue to mow it and pay to get rid of it.
At least they kept some of the trees. That was a sheer stroke of genius, if I do say so myself. The trees grow leaves in the spring to provide beauty and shade in the summer. In the autumn, they fall to the ground and form a natural blanket to keep moisture in the soil and protect the trees and bushes. It's a natural cycle of life.
You better sit down, Lord. The Suburbanites have drawn a new circle. As soon as the leaves fall, they rake them into great piles and pay to have them hauled away. What do they do to protect the shrub and tree roots in the winter to keep the soil moist and loose? After throwing away the leaves, they go out and buy something which they call mulch.
They haul it home and spread it around in place of the leaves.. And where do they get this mulch? They cut down trees and grind them up to make the mulch. I don't want to think about this anymore. Catherine, you're in charge of the arts. What movie have you scheduled for us tonight? It's a story about Never mind, I think I just heard the whole story from St.
Fast from judging others; feast on the Christ indwelling in them. Fast from emphasis on differences; feast on the unity of all life. Fast from apparent darkness; feast on the reality of light. Fast from words that pollute; feast on phrases that purify. Fast from discontent; feast on gratitude. Fast from anger; feast on patience. Fast from pessimism; feast on optimism. Fast from worry; feast on trust.
Fast from complaining; feast on appreciation. Fast from negatives; feast on affirmatives. Fast from unrelenting pressures; feast on unceasing prayer. Fast from hostility; feast on nonviolence. Fast from bitterness; feast on forgiveness. Fast from self-concern; feast on compassion for others. Fast from personal anxiety; feast on eternal truth. Fast from discouragement; feast on hope. Fast from facts that depress; feast on truths that uplift. Fast from lethargy; feast on enthusiasm.
Fast from suspicion; feast on truth. Fast from thoughts that weaken; feast on promises that inspire. Fast from idle gossip; feast on purposeful silence.
Gentle God, during this season of fasting and feasting, gift us with your presence so we can be a gift to others in carrying out your work. That just because two people argue, It doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, It doesn't mean they do love each other. That we don't have to change friends if We understand that friends change. That no matter how good a friend is, They're going to hurt you every once in a while And you must forgive them for that. That true friendship continues to grow, Even over the longest distance.
That you can do something in an instant That will give you heartache for life. That it's taking me a long time To become the person I want to be. That you should always leave loved ones with Loving words. It may be the last time you see them. That you can keep going long after you think you can't. That we are responsible for what We do, no matter how we feel. That either you control your attitude or it controls you.
That heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs To be done, regardless of the consequences. That sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down Will be the ones to help you get back up. That it isn't always enough, To be forgiven by others.
Sometimes, you have to learn to forgive yourself. That our background and circumstances May have influenced who we are, But, we are responsible for who we become. That you shouldn't be so eager to find Out a secret. It could change your life Forever. Two people can look at the exact same Thing and see something totally different. That your life can be changed in a matter of Hours by people who don't even know you. That even when you think you have no more to give, When a friend cries out to you - You will find the strength to help.
That credentials on the wall Do not make you a decent human being. That the people you care about most in life Are taken from you too soon. My brother, Kevin, thinks God lives under his bed.
At least that's what I heard him say one nigh. He was praying out loud in his dark bedroom, and I stopped to listen, 'Are you there, God? But that night something else lingered long after the humor. I realized for the first time the very different world Kevin lives in. He was born 30 years ago, mentally disabled as a result of difficulties during labor. Apart from his size he's 6-foot-2 , there are few ways in which he is an adult. He reasons and communicates with the capabilities of a 7-year-old, and he always will.
He will probably always believe that God lives under his bed, that Santa Claus is the one who fills the space under our tree every Christmas and that airplanes stay up in the sky because angels carry them. I remember wondering if Kevin realizes he is different. Is he ever dissatisfied with his monotonous life?
Up before dawn each day, off to work at a workshop for the disabled, home to walk our cocker spaniel, return to eat his favorite macaroni-and-cheese for dinner, and later to bed.
The only variation in the entire scheme is laundry, when he hovers excitedly over the washing machine like a mother with her newborn child. He does not seem dissatisfied. He lopes out to the bus every morning at 7: He wrings his hands excitedly while the water boils on the stove before dinner, and he stays up late twice a week to gather our dirty laundry for his next day's laundry chores. And Saturdays - oh, the bliss of Saturdays! That's the day my Dad takes Kevin to the airport to have a soft drink, watch the planes land, and speculate loudly on the destination of each passenger inside..
His anticipation is so great he can hardly sleep on Friday nights. And so goes his world of daily rituals and weekend field trips. He doesn't know what it means to be discontent. His life is simple. He will never know the entanglements of wealth of power, and he does not care what brand of clothing he wears or what kind of food he eats. His needs have always been met, and he never worries that one day they may not be. His hands are diligent. Kevin is never so happy as when he is working. When he unloads the dishwasher or vacuums the carpet, his heart is completely in it.
He does not shrink from a job when it is begun, and he does not leave a job until it is finished. But when his tasks are done, Kevin knows how to relax. He is not obsessed with his work or the work of others His heart is pure. He still believes everyone tells the truth, promises must be kept, and when you are wrong, you apologize instead of argue. Free from pride and unconcerned with appearances, Kevin is not afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry or sorry. He is always transparent, always sincere. And he trusts God. Not confined by intellectual reasoning, when he comes to Christ, he comes as a child.
God seems like his closest companion. In my moments of doubt and frustrations with my Christianity, I envy the security Kevin has in his simple faith. It is then that I am most willing to admit that he has some divine knowledge that rises above my mortal questions. It is then I realize that perhaps he is not the one with the handicap. My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care. Who knows if Kevin comprehends things I can never learn?
After all, he has spent his whole life in that kind of innocence, praying after dark and soaking up the goodness and love of God. And one day, when the mysteries of heaven are opened, and we are all amazed at how close God really is to our hearts, I'll realize that God heard the simple prayers of a boy who believed that God lived under his bed. Kevin won't be surprised at all! When you receive this, say a prayer. That's all you have to do There is nothing attached. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out-patients at the Clinic.
One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man.. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'till morning. My bus leaves early in the morning. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body.
He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury. He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was prefaced with thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going. At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded, and the little man was out on the porch. He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment?
I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind. And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning. As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh.
I knew his bus left at 4 a.
In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden. Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. I turned him away!
You can lose roomers by putting up such people! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illness would have been easier to bear. As she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, 'If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had! It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden.
There's an especially beautiful one,' God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. They make you smile and encourage you to succeed. They lend an ear and they share a word of praise. Show your friends how much you care. Pass this on, and brighten someone's day. Nothing will happen if you do not decide to pass it along. A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a glass jelly jar from its hiding place in the closet. She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully.
The total had to be exactly perfect.. No chance here for mistakes. Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way 6 blocks to Rexall's Drug Store with the big red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the pharmacist to give her some attention, but he was too busy at this moment. Tess twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster.
Finally she took a quarter from her jar and banged it on the glass counter. I'm talking to my brother from Chicago whom I haven't seen in ages,' he said without waiting for a reply to his question. His name is Andrew and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost? I'm sorry but I can't help you,' the pharmacist said, softening a little. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest.
Paper Bag Prayers: Finding God in Little Things: Any Time, Any Place [ Bernadette McCarver Snyder] on bahana-line.com *FREE* shipping on qualifying offers. Paper Bag Prayers: Finding God in Little Things: Any Time, Any. Place. By Snyder, Bernadette McCarver. Liguori Publications,U.S., PAP. Condition: New.
Just tell me how muchit costs. He stooped down and asked the little girl, 'What kind of a miracle does your brother need? I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money.. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need. Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.
I wonder how much it would have cost? She knew exactly how much a miracle cost In our lives, we never know how many miracles we will need. A miracle is not the suspension of natural law, but the operation of a higher law.
Episcopal Church, regularly publishes prayer-related books. He says an important audience now is the busy multitasker, which these days is virtually everyone. With that in mind, Grace on the Go: Other prayer-on-the-go books include Paper Bag Prayers: Francis has a universal appeal beyond the Catholic tradition. Emulators can turn for inspiration to Susan Pitchford's Following Francis: The Franciscan Way for Everyone Morehouse paper, May , which Hamilton says will be sold to the liturgical and general Christian markets, including the United Methodists' Cokesbury chain.
While most prayer books this season aim to be new explorations of the old, at least one reinvents liturgy for the contemporary age. Timothy Holder, reflects the growing Christian hip-hop movement and grew out of services at an Episcopal church in the Bronx. The book "has a really good flow to it" and a "nice community feel," says Hamilton, describing the shiny cross on the imitation leather cover as "sort of that bling-bling look. With so many choices, how are booksellers deciding what to buy? PWspoke with representatives of two independent stores with different customer bases and with a Family Christian Store buyer.
My obligations, my fear, my pride, my circumstances - they all become disabilities when I do not trust them to God's care. But despite the oh-so-wise things I say in my presentations, when this new cross of mine was on the horizon, I spent some time prayer journaling, aka having a downright pity party about it. Books on prayer, the heart of most religions, make up a huge subcategory in religion publishing. When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning. It took me a while to figure that out.
Hip-hop has made few inroads into South Dakota, where a country or nature angle would be more likely to sell, says Peggy Bieber of Little Professor Book Center in Aberdeen. She has a heavily Christian demographic with a strong Catholic base, and her customers are interested in Benedict, Francis, the pope, anything on Mother Mary, and devotionals. Cobb and The Complete Rosary: Possibilities for his customers, among a raft of largely Christian books, could include The Energy of Prayer: S15 ; Blessing the Animals: Snyder and Bernadette M.
Only 3 left in stock - order soon. Only 1 left in stock - order soon. Snyder and Bernadette McCarver Snyder. Only 2 left in stock - order soon. For Kids of All Ages 1 Jun Is It Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral? Only 4 left in stock - order soon. Daffy Definitions for Seniors: With a Laugh and a Prayer 31 Dec Not in stock; order now and we'll deliver when available.