Just sharing.

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How the Heck Do We Know?

. . . show me a sign that it is you who speak with me—Judges 6:17
“That was God . . .”

“I felt God nudging me . . .”

“I got the sense that God wants me to . . .”

We hear words like these. Sometimes we say them ourselves. But, how do we know it’s God? Well, rarely can we ever know conclusively; there’s mystery with God. There are times when we intuitively just know, down deep somewhere. And, often, this “just knowing” is enough. Other times, though, things are less clear and we must ask: Was that you, God? Or was that just me? In those situations, we need to be able to recognize his voice—to identify it.

Fortunately, his voice is unique—whether it comes through his still, small voice or through the words of others. It’s something we can come to recognize. So, what we need to learn is to identify the unique characteristics. We do that by reading Scripture. Fortunately, not all methods of hearing God are equal. Scripture, the method by which we hear his voice indirectly through the Biblical authors, sits above all others in importance and authority. As such, we have something against which we can run tests.

On a practical level, therefore, when we try to hear God by any other method, we simply need ask ourselves whether what we think we’ve heard fits within the principles set forth in Scripture. Indeed, that’s exactly what we are listening for when we listen for his voice—thoughts and words that fit within the principles of the Bible—not thoughts, nor words, by contrast, that contradict or add to Scripture.

Are you spending enough time reading Scripture, brother? Do you have a reading plan? If not, get one going, today. Do it with friends. For if you come to know him in Scripture, you’ll begin to identify God’s voice in other places too.

 

[beensetfree]

Six Little Christians


Six little Christians tucked in little beds

Heard the church bell ringing and raised their little heads.

One little Christian shut his eyes once more;

“I’m sleeping in,” he said, “That’s what Sunday’s for.”

Five little Christians raised their little heads,

Stretched and sat up straight in their little beds.

One little Christian laid his head back on his pillow;

“It’s Sunday, my day off,” he said, “I’m a lucky fellow.”

Four little Christians sat up in their beds

And scrambled right out as Mother always said.

One little Christian turned on the TV;

“Oh look,” he said, “Something’s on I want to see!”

Three little Christians did what mother said,

Hurried up and dressed when they got out of bed.

One little Christian dressed in his old jeans,

Ready to go out and hit the golf course greens.

Two little Christians donned their fine apparel

And went to the kitchen to eat some bowls of cereal.

One little Christian was headed toward the door

When he decided to stay home and eat a little more.

One little Christian walked out his front door

And hurried off to church ’cause that’s what Sunday’s for!

 

[beensetfree]

Where is God’s perfection?


In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning-disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be main-streamed into conventional schools.

At a Chush fund-raising dinner, the father of a Chush child 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 Shaya? 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 Shaya:

One afternoon Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, “Do you think they will let me play?” Shaya’s father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya’s father understood that if his son was chosen to play it would give him a comfortable sense of belonging.

Shaya’s father approached one of the boys in the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his team-mates.

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.”

Shaya’s father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play short center field.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya’s team scored again and now with two outs and the bases loaded with the potential winning run on base, Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly,let alone hit with it. However, as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya should at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came in and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya’s team-mates came up to Shaya 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 Shaya.

As the pitch came in, Shaya and his team-mate swung the bat 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. Shaya 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, “Shaya, run to first. Run to first!” Never in his life had Shaya 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 Shaya, 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.” Shaya ran towards second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases towards home. As Shaya reached second base, the opposing short stop ran to him, turned him in the direction of third base and shouted, “Run to third.” As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming,”Shaya run home!” Shaya 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, “those 18 boys reached their level of God’s perfection.”

 

[beensetfree]

God loves us:

He loves us though unworthy

And even if our faith is slim:

Life is always better

If we, in turn, love Him

 

[beensetfree]

Two Seas


There are two seas in Palestine. One is fresh, and fish are in it. Splashes of green adorn its banks. Trees spread their branches over it and stretch out their thirsty roots to sip of its healing waters. Along its shores the children play, as children played when He was there. He loved it. He could look across its silver surface when He spoke His parables. And on a rolling plain not far away He fed five thousand people.

The River Jordan makes this sea with sparkling water from the hills. So it laughs in the sunshine. And men build their houses near to it, and birds their nests; and every kind of life is happier because it is there.

The River Jordan flows on south into another sea. Here is no splash of fish, no fluttering leaf, no song of birds, no children’s laughter. Travelers choose another route, unless on urgent business. The air hangs heavy above its water, and neither man nor beast nor fowl will drink.

What makes this mighty difference in these neighbor seas? Not the river Jordan. It empties the same good water into both. Not the soil in which they lie not the country about.

This is the difference. The Sea of Galilee receives but does not keep the Jordan. For every drop that flows into it another drop flows out. The giving and receiving go on in equal measure.

The other sea is shrewder, hoarding its income jealously. It will not be tempted into any generous impulse. Every drop it gets, it keeps.

The Sea of Galilee gives and lives. This other sea gives nothing. It is named The Dead. There are two kinds of people in the world. There are two seas in Palestine.

 

[beensetfree]

Life, Death, God and Fear

The subject of fear is an interesting thing when we consider both life and God. You see, I don’t believe I’m afraid of dying and yet I know that as long as I am alive, I will resist death; and perhaps even in my final moments I will not be able to reconcile myself to the inevitability of dying in any time that I call NOW.

Instead, I suspect I will believe that it is imminent and yet still in the future—always in the future. I think that is the optimistic frame of mind that God gives to all humans and that death, coming as it does after years of declining health, still “sneaks up” on us most of the time.

That brings me to Fear. You see I am afraid of a lot of things—some of them involving a fear of a method of death but the main one just a fear of fear itself. For instance, I enjoy the process of flying and viewing all the earth below me, but even though I deeply doubt that the exact plane I’m on will plummet to earth, I am afraid all the time I’m flying, because I am afraid of the fear I would feel on the way down if that terrible thing were to happen.

While actually the abrupt jolting of my soul from my human body would be easier than the pain of a long, lingering illness, I just don’t want to face that particular fear—that knowing that the time for death is NOW.

I’m also afraid of roller coasters. I think if I took a ride on one it is likely that I would come back to the starting place all in one piece as thousands of people do every year, but I would be so afraid. So I don’t ride roller coasters.

The same goes for driving too fast. Who wants to risk life and limb to get there faster? I don’t want to see another car unexpectedly appear in front of me and know I am going to suffer the impact. That scares me.

What does not scare me is going home to be with God. I just want to go there by his gentle invitation; I don’t want to go crashing in heaven’s gate unexpectedly.

I don’t think God minds that I’m afraid of things that hold more elements of danger than day-to-day life usually engenders. I think he wants me to hold my life dear and submit my soul to him only when he gives me that quiet call.

I’m not ashamed of being afraid of taking chances with my life; I would be ashamed if I wasn’t. I would be ashamed to not hold the wonderful life God gave me in the esteem this great gift deserves.

 

[beensetfree]

Awesome Possibilities

Read James 1:2-8
My friends, consider yourselves fortunate when all kinds of trials come your way, for you know that when your faith succeeds in facing such trials, the result is the ability to endure.
-James 1:2-3 (TEV)

WITH two days remaining, I was frantically trying to finish an art project for an upcoming show. I was near completing it when a slip of my hand ruined the whole thing beyond repair. I was devastated, and I felt like a failure. I quit and said I wasn’t going to start again; it was too late.

The next morning when my husband said, “Try again,” I took that as a nudge from God. Reluctantly, I did. The results were remarkable, even better than the original!
I learned about failure through that event and others in my life since then. Failure when viewed with negative eyes is nothing more than failure. But when we trust and listen to God, failure can become an opportunity for a change filled with awesome possibilities.

Dear God, give us eyes to see possibilities even in our failures. Amen.

Every day is a new opportunity to create something worthwhile, with God’s help.

 

[beensetfree]

Moments


There are moments in life when you miss someone so much that you
just want to pick them from your dreams and hug them for real!

When the door of happiness closes, another opens; but often times we look
so long at the closed door that we don’t see the one which has been
opened for us.

Don’t go for looks; they can deceive. Don’t go for wealth; even that fades
away. Go for someone who makes you smile, because it takes only
a smile to make a dark day seem bright. Find the one that makes your
heart smile

Dream what you want to dream; go where you want to go; be what you
want to be, because you have only one life and one chance to do all the
things you want to do.

May you have enough happiness to make you sweet, enough trials to
make you strong, enough sorrow to keep you human, enough hope to
make you happy. The happiest of people don’t necessarily have the best
of everything; they just make the most of everything that comes along
their way.

The brightest future will always be based on a forgotten past; you can’t go
onward in life until you let go of your past failures and heartaches.


When you were born, you were crying and everyone around you was smiling. Live
your life so at the end, you’re the one who is smiling and everyone around
you is crying.

-Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that
take our breath away!

 

[beensetfree]

Have You Missed It?

. . . he rewards those who seek him—Hebrews 11:6

If God chose to speak to us using methods unmistakable, undeniable—a clearly audible voice or a conversation with an angel, perhaps—identifying his voice would be simple. Such encounters would be impossible to ignore, even for the distracted or dissenting among us. He employs methods like these, however, only but very rarely. Much more often, he uses methods any of us can mistake, or even deny—methods like his still, small voice and human agency.

Identifying his voice when it comes through these latter methods is—by intentional design—more difficult. Note the story of Elijah on Mount Horeb, when God uses his still, small voice (1 Kings 19:9-18). He makes it clear the nature of this voice is not dramatic, nor the volume loud; it’s a gentle whisper. Unobtrusive.

It’s not forced upon Elijah, nor upon us. The same is true of human agency. When he speaks through family, friends, acquaintances, his voice is likewise easy to mistake, easy to deny. Such people talk with us every day and the few words that are inspired can get lost among the many that are not. Again, unobtrusive.

But, though unobtrusive, Elijah still heard God’s voice. And so can we. We can hear it—but we must listen determinedly. Otherwise it’ll fade into noise. Why? Why does God allow us to find him when we seek him earnestly and hide himself from us when we do not? To do differently would be coercion, or close to it. And that’s not how he works.


Get rid of distraction. Drop the skepticism. Drop the defiance, brother. He wants a two-way relationship with you, one in which you speak and are spoken to . . . by God Almighty. That’s an astounding offer. All he wants is for you to choose him, freely. Choose him.

 

[beensetfree]

God’s Days


There are two days in the week upon which and about which I never worry — two carefree days kept sacredly free from fear and apprehension. One of these days is Yesterday. Yesterday, with its cares and fret and pains and aches, all its faults, its mistakes and blunders, has passed forever beyond my recall. It was mine; it is God’s.

The other day that I do not worry about is Tomorrow. Tomorrow, with all its possible adversities, its burdens, its perils, its large promise and performance, its failures and mistakes, is as far beyond my mastery as its dead sister, Yesterday. Tomorrow is God’s day; it will be mine.

There is left, then, for myself but one day in the week – Today. Any man can fight the battles of today. Any woman can carry the burdens of just one day; any man can resist the temptation of today. It is only when we willfully add the burden of these two awful eternities – Yesterday and Tomorrow – such burdens as only the Mighty God can sustain – that we break down.

It isn’t the experience of Today that drives men mad. It is the remorse of what happened Yesterday and fear of what Tomorrow might bring. These are God’s Days … Leave them to Him.

 

[beensetfree]

Peace In Life’s Storms


Some days we look around us
and all we can do is sigh
It’s hard to find a glimpse of hope
peeking out from questions of why

We see friends whose hearts are aching..
People are hurting everywhere
Many asking”Where is God-
Is it possible He doesn’t care?”

Yet it’s those same enquiring minds
Who claim He isn’t real…..
If they don’t believe that He exists,
How can they expect Him to feel?

If only these people realised
They’re wrong on two accounts-
Christ is real, and He DOES care
He loves them despite their doubts

Over time I’ve come to realise
That although we now don’t understand
We don’t have to question when things go wrong
It’s somehow all part of God’s plan

If you learn to trust our Saviour
Without expecting it all to be clear
He will give you peace until that day
When He’ll take you to the place of no tears

 

[beensetfree]

Does someone you know think in a different way?


Some people have a harder path in life than others. Some are born with a mode of thinking that interferes with their ability to relate to others. We who have brains that work in a more conventional manner can say the fault is all their own; but we’re not—in the words of a psychologist I once met— “trying to dig a ditch with a teaspoon”. It can be done, but the effort is tremendous.

One person I know, when confronted with a problem, cannot relate the problem to past situations. He suffers from a certain way of thinking that makes it impossible for him to generalize or draw conclusions from assorted information. He faces every new problem in life with the same lack of preparation with which he faced the first. No matter how often you try to fill in the whole picture for him, all he sees is individual incidents, sequenced and seen with precision but never joined together as a whole.

What a burden he faces in this world where drawing conclusions is part of everyone else’s coping mechanism.

Maybe you know someone who “can’t get their act together” and you feel they deserve condemnation for making the same mistakes over and over. Why not try praying for them instead of condemning them. They may be trying as hard as they can, digging away with their teaspoon at hard situations they can’t really understand.

 

[beensetfree]

Hope is all…


How do I face another day
Only to suffer another way,
Perhaps to have things get even worse,
Eerily resembling a vicious curse.

I cannot say how I endure
Sorrowfully without a cure;

All I can say is, “God is with me,
Lovingly guiding me through the dark sea.”
Losing is common but hope still remains;
(There’s always hope for what God fore-ordains).

 

[beensetfree]

Evil still Exists

Today we don’t give much credence to the concept of evil. Even the cruelty of brutal murderers may be explained away as some mental or personality disorder. We often hear commendations for acts of extraordinary kindness; but when have you heard of anyone stepping up and saying that someone is just plain evil? And yet evil does exist.

The bible even indicates to us that evil may actually invade a person and may likewise be cast out of them, as in the bible in the case where Jesus cast the unclean spirits out of a man and allowed the spirits to enter into a herd of swine.

Many of us are staunch Christians and believe that Jesus really did do this and other miracles. Why then, do so many of us not accept that evil is still present today?

Personally, just as I believe in God and the warm goodness of Christian people, I believe in wicked, evil depravity; but I also believe that God can reach into a person’s heart and replace evil with His own good presence. That’s why we should be diligent in spreading His word. A world full of people who love and worship God and live according to His will would be a far better place than a world full of men with evil hearts.

 

[beensetfree]

The Jackie Robinson Story – Baseball’s Great Experiment


At New York’s Shea Stadium, two years ago, baseball commissioner Bud Selig announced that number 42 would be retired by the major leagues forever. It was a mark of honor for the man who had worn that number-the man who broke baseball’s color barrier in 1947: Jackie Robinson.

February is Black History Month, and our kids have been hearing a lot about Robinson’s quiet dignity in the face of racial bigotry on the ball field. But what many of them are not hearing is the source of Robinson’s ability to turn the other cheek: It was his faith in Jesus Christ.

Robinson was born in 1919 into a culture steeped in racism. And from early childhood it drove Robinson mad. Historian Jackson Lears, writing in the New Republic, says Robinson had “a reputation as a mad brawler, always ready to smash in the teeth of any white man who insulted him.” Later, at UCLA, he gained a reputation as a thug.

But it was also at UCLA that Robinson began to encounter the forces that would free him from some of his rage. One was a nursing student named Rachel Isum, whom he later married. The other was a black minister named Karl Downs, whose hard-hitting sermons taught Robinson that Christianity was not a synonym for racial submission.

By 1945 Robinson had developed a firm conviction that God had an important purpose for his life. That purpose became clear when Robinson was summoned to the office of Branch Rickey, general manager for the Brooklyn Dodgers. Rickey was determined to make history by putting the first black player on a major league team. But first Rickey made certain Robinson understood what he would face: everything from racial epithets to physical assaults to hotel clerks refusing him accommodations.

Rickey challenged Robinson, telling him he was “looking for a ballplayer with guts enough not to fight back”-a phrase that has since become legendary.

What is less well known is that Rickey also handed Robinson a copy of a book by Giovanni Papini called The Life of Christ. And he reminded Robinson of the words of Jesus: “Resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

By quoting Scripture, Lears writes, Rickey “was hitting Robinson in the heart, invoking the Methodist Christianity that they shared.”

Robinson’s struggle began as soon as he walked out onto the ball field wearing a Dodgers uniform. During his ten years with the Dodgers, he endured racist remarks, death threats, and unfair calls by umpires. But Robinson’s faith helped him keep his anger in check. Every night, he got on his knees and prayed for self-control.

“Through all the frustrations,” writes Lears, “his Christianity sustained him.”

Robinson left baseball in 1956 and spent the rest of his life working in the civil-rights movement. Despite personal tragedies and setbacks, Robinson’s faith in Christ never wavered.

As Black History Month ends, make sure your own children learn about Jackie Robinson. But beware: Some biographies of Robinson written for children don’t even mention his Christian faith. Our kids deserve to know the full story of the hero who broke baseball’s color barrier.

The man whose faith helped him overcome racial prejudice to make baseball history and become a great national legend.

 

[beensetfree]

The Bishop’s Gift


Once a church had fallen upon hard times. Only five members were left: the pastor and four others, all over 60 years old.

In the mountains near the church there lived a retired Bishop. It occurred to the pastor to ask the Bishop if he could offer any advice that might save the church. The pastor and the Bishop spoke at length, but when asked for advice, the Bishop simply responded by saying, “I have no advice to give. The only thing I can tell you is that the Messiah is one of you.”

The pastor, returning to the church, told the church members what the Bishop had said. In the months that followed, the old church members pondered the words of the Bishop. “The Messiah is one of us?” they each asked themselves. As they thought about this possibility, they all began to treat each other with extraordinary respect on the off chance that that one among them might be the Messiah. And on the off, off chance that each member himself might be the Messiah, they also began to treat themselves with extraordinary care.

As time went by, people visiting the church noticed the aura of respect and gentle kindness that surrounded the five old members of the small church. Hardly knowing why, more people began to come back to the church. They began to bring their friends, and their friends brought more friends. Within a few years, the small church had once again become a thriving church, thanks to the Bishop’s gift.

 

[beensetfree]

Never too old…


As I grow older, occasionally some person even older than I will tell me I remind them of my mother. On the other hand my sisters are convinced that I look exactly like our paternal aunt whose very name had a jolly sound. For purposes of anonymity I will refer to her by another name that has a similar quality. I will call her Aunt Emilina Cheer, the “Cheer” being her happy-sounding last name.

When I look in the mirror, I can sometimes see why people think I look like my mother but I am far happier on the days I can more easily see why my sisters think I look like Aunt Emilina. That’s because my mother, while very beautiful in her youth, was dogged by health problems all her life. She passed away at only 59 with severely gnarled joins from arthritis, hair loss and obesity (probably due to thyroid disorder) and almost no teeth in her head.

Aunt Emilina on the other hand won a beauty contest for senior citizens when she was in her late seventies. Of course Aunt Emilina was not really a beauty; she was just so pleasant looking that everyone found her beautiful in spite of her rotund figure, graying hair, stout practical shoes and clicking false teeth.

As for character—I could not find fault if mine resembled that of either of these two forebears. My mother was honest to a fault, practical, pragmatic, sensible, decent and God fearing. Aunt Emalina was honest to a fault, generous, charismatic, decent and God fearing and also was a highly reactive emotional woman.

I too am emotional so I already landed that questionable quality but all the other tributes of my aunt and my mother are laudable ones I can’t claim to have a lock on. What I do have is a good memory of some remarkable people; and though I am now an old woman myself, I am still trying to pattern myself after the best in both of them.

 

[beensetfree]

No Character


To me, integrity is closely linked to kindness. This article is about Louella to whom I am kind even though my kindness is not returned.

Louella is someone to whom I consider myself a very good friend. I can’t say however that she is a good friend to me. She is someone whom I’ve always said is “all southern charm and no character”.

Louella was briefly married to one of my cousins. When she met him she was married to someone else. After a while, she talked her husband into giving her a quickie Caribbean divorce and married her new lover within a day of returning from the islands.

They went away for a wonderful, long honeymoon. Afterward, her new “husband” moved to her hometown to be with her but she never moved into the house he rented. She never even told anyone in that part of the world that she had gotten the a divorce, let alone remarried.

Eventually she decided to go back to the first husband; and that’s what she did, remaining with him a number of years before finally getting a belated divorce from her “lover” so they could legally re-marry. Shortly after that she was divorced from him once more.

If that were all I knew about Louella, I would by now have her in the far background of my mind. The trouble is, she never stays in the background. Every five to ten years one of her marriages breaks up and she contacts me once more. Her purpose—a constant quest to re-open the romance with the man she married so briefly and deserted, a man who no longer wants anything to do with her.

One day a call will come from her and there she is, calling and e-mailing for a while until another man catches her fancy and she forgets about that old ex-“husband.”

As I said before, this woman is full of southern charm but I don’t know why I accept her calls or worry about her when they don’t come. Her entire focus is herself. Why can’t I shun this person who clearly uses me—a person I don’t really miss but still worry about—a person I find unlovable but unaccountably still love?

Everyone needs someone they can always call in their blackest hours; so although I find her behavior abhorrent, her morals negligible and her sense of propriety entirely lacking, I know that the little girl inside her, who apparently never grew up, needs someone to turn to; and I can’t bear to hurt that child by being unavailable to the fading belle she has become.

Louella has no character, but I do; and that’s why I care even though I see her clearly for what she is.

 

[beensetfree]

Mortality


Our mortality is something

We mostly just ignore,

Even though the time that’s left

Is shrinking ever more.

I think this is a special way

That people’s minds are blessed;

Though we know someday we’ll die,

We keep thinking, “Not just yet.”

Humans are aware

Life’s a temporary condition,

But thinking of death over much

Would make our life perdition;

So God in all His wisdom

Keeps death forever at bay,

But belying all our optimism…

It takes us anyway.

 

[beensetfree]

Big m&d Puddles and Sunny Yellow Dandelions


When I look at a patch of dandelions, I see a bunch of weeds that are going to take over my yard.
My kids see flowers for Mom and blowing white fluff you can wish on.

When I look at an old drunk and he smiles at me, I see a smelly, dirty person who probably wants money and I look away.
My kids see someone smiling at them and they smile back.

When I hear music I love, I know I can’t carry a tune and don’t have much rhythm so I sit self-consciously and listen.
My kids feel the beat and move to it. They sing out the words. If they don’t know them, they make up their own.

When I feel wind on my face, I brace myself against it. I feel it messing up my hair and pulling me back when I walk.
My kids close their eyes, spread their arms and fly with it, until they fall to the ground laughing.

When I pray, I say thee and thou and grant me this, give me that.
My kids say, “Hi God! Thanks for my toys and my friends. Please keep the bad dreams away tonight. Sorry, I don’t want to go to Heaven yet. I would miss my Mommy and Daddy.”

When I see a m&d puddle I step around it. I see muddy shoes and dirty carpets.
My kids sit in it. They see dams to build, rivers to cross, and worms to play with.

I wonder if we are given kids to teach or to learn from? No wonder God loves the little children!
Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things.

I wish you Big m&d Puddles and Sunny Yellow Dandelions!!!