To Choose

A new year is upon us in a few days, and for time's sake, let's keep it simple.

We choose different. In 2015, at the crossroads, we'll choose different.

1. At the fork of apathy or action, we choose action.

2. At despair and hope, we choose hope.

3. At confusion and small steps, we choose to take baby steps.

4. At downputting relationship and uplifting ones, we choose the ones that build us up.

5. At fine-tuning what we really want to do or simply going through the motions, we choose our life's work.

6. At drowsiness and energy, we choose to keep moving.

7. At wholesome words and bad talk, we choose words that build us up.

Peace, and God help us all.

The Night Before Christmas

My favorite Christmas song the last 2 years---celebrating the night before my savior was born. Thank you, Jesus.

 Night Before Christmas

Empty manger, perfect stranger, about to be born
Into darkness, sadness, desperate madness, creation so torn
We were so lost on earth, no peace, no worth, no way to escape
In fear, no faith, no hope, no grace, and no light
But that was the night before Christmas

Warm hay, cold sweat, a mother, not yet, praying Godspeed the dawn
She looks to her man, holding her hand, they wonder how long
And the shepherds, wise men come to find them, and bow to a king
One star above shining on love, so bright it lit up the night before Christmas

And the world didn’t know mercy was meek and so mild
And the world didn’t know that truth was as pure as a child
The night before Christmas
The night before Christmas

And the world didn’t know, redemption was sweet and so strong
And the world didn’t know salvation was writing a song
The night before Christmas
The night before Christmas
The night before Christmas

Empty manger, perfect stranger, about to be born

Father's Love

The Father's love letter to all of us....

We Choose Different

David once said this: 

 Psalm 109:17: "As he loved cursing, let it come unto him: as he delighted not in blessing, let if be far from him."

This terrifies me, that cursing, or using swear words only heaps up curses for the user. That it also keeps blessings from far from him. 

No, no, I choose different. I choose a wholesome tongue. I choose the Word of God, Jesus. 

Life and death is in the power of the tongue, which means the tongue does have power both to kill and give life. 

No, no, I choose different.  I choose words of grace, words that heal, words that give life. 

We hear cursing all around us, as if it's nothing, but words are seeds, and whatsoever a man sows, the same shall he reap.

We hear cursing everywhere: in our neigborhoods, on TV, on YouTube, on websites, everywhere. 

In the midst of it all, is it okay, then, to join the crowd? No, the word of God is forever, and will not change, so I choose the fear of God, which is the beginning of wisdom.

I choose different, we choose different, we choose the Word of God


If you also feel the same way, and choose different, let me know your thoughts on this matter in the comments---there's power in numbers.

In the midst of unrighteousness, let's persevere to do what's right.  His grace is enough.



Peace.

Some Lines For Patience

9 months to give birth

Trees and their fruits in their season

For everything a season

A time for everything on earth

The heart of the wise shall know both time and judgment.

Haste makes waste

He that is hasty with his feet sins

He that is hasty of spirit exalts folly

But he that believes shall not make haste

The faithful shall abound with blessings

He that is hasty to be rich shall not be innocent. 

In the fullness of time, the Son of God was received.

Thanks. 

Terrible

While reading the great book one day, I noticed something interesting. It bothered me a bit, this thing. But I held on to patience. Patience always seems to bring me to clean understanding without the loss of steam in anger or frustration.

It was the word terrible used to describe God. Psalm 68:35: “God you are terrible out of your holy places: The God of Israel is the one who gives power and strength to His people. Blessed be God.”


I thought of it. God, terrible? But knowing that God is holy, and there is no unrighteousness in him, I knew something was missing. I thought of the other possible senses in meaning of the word “terrible.” 
 
My mind went back to my time as a college freshman in Ghana. As part of required classes for first year students, I signed up to take philosophy classes, and had to often visit the philosophy department to talk things out with professors or buy booklets ( handouts). The motto of the department was,“The mind a terrible thing to waste.” I didn't quite understand it then, but I think I do now.


Terrible, coming out of the word, terror, which is used to refer to fear as we now know it---as in the war on terror, or it's connection to Al qaeda. But it does also have a positive, and good sense in meaning. This sense means immense power. The immeasurable power of the mind, and how that it should not be wasted. With the mind, men have built airplanes, submarines, gone to the moon, and done some amazing things. That is a terrible thing we all have, and not to be wasted.

In God's case, it means his awesome might, power, and holiness, which sets him apart as God. The Almighty God! 

This is the terrible sense which invokes our fear of Him.
And on this fear, it's not the one that cripples you, like what the devil uses against people, but a clean one, that gives life. In one place in the Bible, it's said, “In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence.” And in Psalm 19, it's described as “The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever.” 

Yet in another place, “The fear of the Lord tends to life, and he that hath it shall abide satisfied, he shall not be visited with evil.” 
 
Think of it. A fear that makes you satisfied, is clean, tends to life, and keeps you from evil is in no way bad, nor evil. We stand in awe of Him, the God who is past finding out, and dwells in unapproachable light. That state and place of being evokes terror, terrible.

Hence the scripture says He is terrible out of His Holy places.

Oh, give us understanding, that we may know You more, o God! 
 
Peace.

Hold On

Often the going gets tough, and the way unclear. You wonder if what you are doing is worth it, at all. Fears show up at every turn. You question it all.

But let's wait a minute. In the end, after all, is not God the judge, the end of all things? Do we not have access to him in prayer? He hears the cry of the honest, and all those who call upon him in truth.

The Lord is merciful, willing to pardon, and to restore. He is not willing that any should perish. He is our God, our love. In times of trouble, let's trust in God. The prayer of the righteous is his delight.

He is a father, and his joy is to help his children. There's nothing too hard for God. The way may seem hard, and fearful, but God is greater than all that.

Yet, what if we fail. Does that diminish God? I don't think so. God is still God, and forever he is. There none beside him, and there never will be. But if we fail, yet is God merciful, and will pick us up.

Some will say, "In failure, we then should give up on God." But give up and turn to what? There's no hope anywhere else. In God alone is hope, and mercy. He will not always chide. Let's turn to him in prayer, for he hears us, and will help.

Oh God! Hear us, and make our confession true, for in You we have put our trust. Though we fall, yet will you lift us up. You'll have mercy upon us.

And what if we have sinned? The blood of Jesus is our mercy, and in him we live. You are our God, and that forever. Be strong for us, and show us the way in which we should walk, and lead us to good.

We are your praise on the earth, and in You through us is your name magnified. Thank you.

Let's hold on.
  

Ingredients On Fire

Unless the ingredients are on fire, they will not cook. 

Doesn't it cry—wisdom, that is---when we are cooking? That it is only by putting the ingredients into one one single pot, mixing them, turning the fire on, and then stirring it that we prepare food?

This is the same thing with our life's work. A few talents, put into one single kind of focus, combined, and then applied diligently in work, leads to food, bread.

Let's cook. 

One of us passed

In memory of the passing of one of our own, Dr. Myles Munroe and wife, Ms. Ruth Ann Munroe, and their flight company.

I was shocked to hear this yesterday. This was a man of God of no little stature. But the Lord knows.

A huge loss to us all in the Kingdom. But the Kingdom marches on, for we all are in his place to keep the fire that is Jesus Christ burning to the ends of the earth. 

As in him we live, move, and have our being, also in him we die, rest. May our folks rest in Him. Amen.

Write, And The Pencil

Write it down. You got something you want to do? Write it down. What is the topic? It doesn't have to be perfect. Just write it down. Do you want to start a small group ? Write down everything that comes to your mind about it. You can delete the bad stuff later. But when your mind's hot, ideas flow and come to you. Catch them all. Strike the hammer while the iron is hot, the old saying goes.


Why? Because there will come a time when your motivation wanes, and then you'll not feel as fired up, and ideas don't come to you as readily. This is not the time to try remembering what came to you when you were feeling good. A short pencil is better than a long memory, and strike the hammer while the iron is hot.


I Use A Pencil: The Experimenter's tool


Yeah, a pencil gives me freedom to experiment. A pencil is great for what's at it's butt---the eraser. We are not at the commitment stage yet, so let's feel free to try things out---check if a sentence is good or not, and use the eraser if not. A pen puts an indelible mark on the work, and makes changes messy---not time for that yet. On the bus, at the gas station, on the flight, I can quickly pull out a pencil and be off to writing.

Let's write.

Why Some Fruits Hang Low

What's the easiest thing that you are naturally good at that you can do right now? 

Get to it. Is it writing? Write. Don't have a laptop? Get a paper and pen---turn the pen downward and let your thoughts flow out. Is it speaking? Take the next opportunity you get to speak, whether to two people or three. Whatever it is, start doing it.

I once read a comment somewhere that each of us can at least create a product worth a buck, one dollar ($1.00), and that got me thinking. Yeah, I could. There's probably worth more in me than that. Okay, now I've got to sit and plan. What do I have that I could put together to help someone, in a real way?

Same way, we've got to pluck the lowest hanging fruit, not the one high up in the trees. Let's put our hands to work, starting at the bottom first. Let's do what we can.

Out Of The Rock

 Today's a short one on God's voice in an unlikely place---out of the rock.

On my way back to the apartment a few mornings back, I stopped for a few minutes, to simply take in the morning some more. I stopped by a rock. I had sat on this rock a few times in the past on my usual morning walks, and didn't so much pay attention to it. I usually take these walks---around 7:30 to 8:30am, sometimes later if I happen to rise late---to sort of wake me up and think a bit.

Today, I found myself standing in front of the rock. I was about to sit on it, like I normally do. But before I did, I stopped for a minute, and it caught my eye.

"How interesting, this," I thought.  

Out of the rock, a plant had grown. How can this be, and why am I noticing it now? Lately, I have had to deal with some challenging things, and often wondered what the way forward is. But here is a plant, seemingly weak---it's a small plants without strong roots like big trees have---finding it's way through the rock---through the situation, through the odds, through the improbable. 

It's far removed from the ground below, where soil is, yet it rises. Someway, somehow, it finds soil, its roots fight the rock and take a hold, and it grows!

What I hear it saying? Simply this: I am a particular plant, my seed is in me, and what I am I will be! 

Of course the plant didn't create itself. It's Maker we all know, and what power He has put inside us to do well! What's on our side is greater than what's against us, and in the fight, we get stronger. We must be!

A good morning this was, and surely I did wake and think.

Hug Adversity

I remember the night, and it was something. I was living in a one bedroom apartment, had left my job for medical reasons, and went out to my favorite place in Austin, the Barnes and Noble Bookstore at the Arboretum, for a quiet time and for inspiration. 

I was in the middle of a difficult time, and needed to be somewhere that inspired me. I had a somewhat good night there, just reading online stuff and working on a free blog I had started. The night was winding down, and I knew I had to leave---I didn't own a car--- I relied on the public bus to get me around, wherever I went (God bless the public bus and their drivers).

As I made my way around the book shelves on the second floor toward the escalator that would carry me to the ground floor, I saw the book look at me. I turned in its direction and got a better look. “The Gift of Adversity,” the title read. I had seen the same title as the caption for a video of one of my favorite athletes, Tom Brady of the NFL's New England Patriots. I took the book and hugged it. 
 

I didn't so much need to read the contents, for the title said it all. Adversity is a refiner, and for those who understand it, it's a blessing. I was in the midst of mine, and though it was hard, I was thankful.

Adversity either indicates that something is wrong, and needs to be fixed; or change is happening.

I didn't know which one I was in, but it gave me a chance to learn so much about myself, and life. It also led me to this writing I am doing now. After I left the job, I realized I needed to do something that I was really passionate about, something that used the best in me. But this was not easy to figure out.

As I sat on a bus one evening---headed where I don't now remember---I felt a strong urge in my spirit to share what I have with the world. It was so strong this urge, and I knew  I need to find a way to do it. In my post last week, I talked about my reasons for starting the blog, and what it's for, but this urge got me to write the first sentence.  Looking back, I know it was God's prompting.

Working on this blog has been one of the most joyful things I have done in the last year, and I am still learning of the potential for good that it could have on other people's lives and mine. 

And knowing I started my blog during the same season I hugged the book the "gift of adversity,"at the bookstore, in the midst of my difficulty, it's clear that even in the darkest of times, His voice is still present.

What This Blog Is About.

Come October 12, 2014, It will be a year since I started blogging. It was simply something I started to explore my interests and to kind of see what I could share with the world. Here's a sum of the story:

After moving to Austin, Texas, in the summer of 2011, I rented a one bedroom apartment to give myself time to collect my thoughts and kind of find my way through life. I wanted to do this on my own, alone. That way I will not have anything or anyone to lean on—-like family and friends. I wanted the answers I come up with to be untouched by human opinion, to be true.

One day while sitting on the edge of my bed, I read a line in the Bible---I think it was on a Saturday afternoon---I noticed a scripture in the bible in the book of Proverbs. This was during a searching time for me---I wanted to understand how things work on earth---Why somethings work out, and why others fail. 

Chapter 8:1 read: Doesn't wisdom cry? And understanding put out its voice?

This struck me. I thought of the meaning but still could not get it. So, as I usually do, I went about my day, and simply pondered it. While walking home one evening after work, it hit me. This line in the Bible is a rhetorical question, which means the answer is already obvious.

The scripture meant that all that I see created by God is the voice of wisdom, to teach me. A cry is loud, and should be heard---as a child cries for it's mother; and a voice put out is to get someone's attention---like when an announcement is made for all to hear over a PA system. So this voice is loud and it's everywhere.

Really? I questioned. And from that day, I started paying attention. And truly, upon careful thought, I realized it all to be true. The trees say something. The clouds and rain contain instruction. The ants teach. Even the door hinge has nuggets to share. And so on.

This opened my eyes to so many other things. To back it up, I more so knew this to be true, because in another place in the book, He tells me of how He created the earth. Proverbs 3:19: The Lord by wisdom found the earth...So in essence, He is saying that the very fabric of the earth was made by wisdom, which is why wisdom's voice is everywhere on everyday for everyone to hear, if we will listen.

So, when it came time for me to make my contribution to the earth, to decide what my focus will be---during the month of September, 2013---I sought to build it on something that will last---His cry. 

I chose to share how we can all pay attention to this cry, and how they are pointers to everyone of us for everything we want to be and do, everyday.

That's why I started this blog, to show just that---the cry of God's Word all around us. Where they are, how to look for it, and how to use it to make our way through life. They are the basics, and when they are in place, everything's a whole lot better. 

Join me on this journey, you'll not regret it. Come along.

Foundation

A conversation on a local bus
 ........................................................................
 
Eddie: I really don't believe in God.

Jack : Really? Why?

Eddie: I mean I have read the Bible, and everything, but I don't believe that something that old could still be the same.

Jack: How do you mean?

Eddie: I mean the Bible is still the same, it hasn't changed, and I find it hard to believe in something like that.

Jack: Well, what about a building---the building itself could still get improvements, and may look different, but the foundation is still the same. That's how the Bible is---it's the foundation for life, it never changes.

Eddie: Yeah, I see what you mean. You are like an older man I know---he always kind of takes me aside when I have questions like that, and makes it clear.

…..........................................................................................................

You'll Live

Do I choose the strawberry Banana, or pick up Odwalla's? I pondered, wondering which one was a better buy in nutritional value. My night at Starbucks should be be nice, and the last thing to make it sour will be choosing the wrong fruit juice for company---let me take a closer look. So I thought, and thought, and read the labels over and over again. 

“Mommy!” came the murmuring voice of a child next to the fruit juice section. “Mommy!” the voice came again, and followed by a plaintive, buzzing plea. “You'll live,' I heard a certain adult female voice say in response.  

How fitting these words are for what I was internally contemplating throughout the week. I turned to see a pretty mother with her son clutching onto her right leg. Her son seemed about 5 years old, and was all up in complaint for the cold temps in HEB's fruit juice and vegetables section.

“Mom, it's cold!” He went on. His mom without looking downward at him, but purposefully looking to pick out her vegetables, assuredly repeated: “You'll live.” I turned a quick glance again, and saw the certainty of her words on her face: She knew beyond all doubt that the cold would do her son no harm.

I got engaged with this scene. I repeated her words to draw her attention, which she gave, and looked down at her son with a smile, who also realizing my presence looked up at me. I sent a hello his way, which he hid from, holding onto mommy's right leg much more firmly. “Why don't you say hello back?” His mom urged. 

We got into a quick chat, the lady and I. I asked of her family, and she readily told me of her four children, three of whom were also in the store with her, but were with their dad, an isle way, towards the bread section. Her fourth, a baby girl, she pointed at to show me---she was strapped into her carriage and placed safely within the front part of her dad's shopping cart, his eyes close-by for guard. A nice family, I thought to myself, and I enjoyed the exchange.  

Small talk all this was, so soon it was time to part ways. She walked farther down the fruit juice section. 

I walked away thinking it all over, after I choose both Odwalla's smoothie and Bolthouse Farm's Strawberry Banana---why not try them both.

You'll live? I questioned. How fitting, these words, and perfect dose for most of life's ails. The odds may be stacked against us, the circumstances (to us) may not bode well, the job is in a little way fulfilling, and the relationship is locked in stalemate, or headed for the rocks and often the search long. 

Yet the parallels of those and the scene in the store are not stretched---the settings are not very different from the cold temps in the store that day, for the little boy. But his older and wiser mom, loving nonetheless, knowing well what the end is, and the benefit of the moment for years to come, in perseverance, assuredly says: You will live. 

And in a similar fashion, the the great One above, of greater love, and understanding, and purpose, often in response to our ceaseless cries for relief from cold or hot temperatures, says: "You'll live." And in living, hope. 

..............................................................................

It cries in the supermarket too.

..............................................................................

Terms And Conditions

“By signing up, you agree to our terms and conditions.” 

 

Many websites have this requirement, and I know its a bore for many folks to sit down and read it. But could the time we do not want to take at the outset be taken back from us later, and stressfully so?

I bring this up because of the greater amount of business we do online these days. I believe its good sense, If you will have a lot to do with a particular website, to read their terms and conditions before doing business with them. I usually invest a day at the outset, to save me many days worth of trouble later.

Jack Dorsey's company at squareup.com, for example, has a very thorough and comprehensive user agreement that I really enjoyed reading. I enjoyed it for its thoroughness, and I got a good sense of what my transactions with them will mean, now and in the long term. With every transaction, I know what the consequence for good and bad could mean. What liberties are taken away from me, and why. What you don't know could hurt you.

Also on a personal level, I also took the opportunity to learn how they structured it, and that could come in handy, and as an idea guide for how to put together my own later, as my legal underpinning for my transactions with the world.

I believe knowing the terms of trade is crucial to any good business deal. So for starters who are looking to build your own thing, take time to master the basics of good business deals---and the legal part of it is crucial. It will come in handy later when issues come up, and they do come up, and will save you a lot of worry then.

Also, when it comes time for you to teach others who will like to learn the ropes from you, you will be able to give them a sound foundation for their own business. Trust me, they'll thank you later.

This nation is a nation of laws, and no one is above the law, so know what you are signing.

Integrity

What's integrity? 

A character that's one, integrated, made one. (Into—inside---grated---melded). What's the chief container on earth? Man. What is man's chief part? His heart, and that's a container, too. And yet a man's character is only by virtue of what's in his heart. MLK said this a little differently, the contents of his character. 
 
Let's be one, for God is one. The words cry, folks.

Grammar Is Not Unimportant

Okay, this is a quick response to a recent feeling about grammar.

Grammar is understanding's aid, it helps people think clearly about things, and lends respect to the reader. There's a reason why order is needed with all things useful. Grammar is order.

Writing is an exchange, an investment. A man takes his time, which he could have used somewhere else to do something else, but chooses to spend it--invest it---in reading your work. Respect that. Think like this: Is this piece of writing worth his time? After he is done reading will he be better off as a person? Make your piece worthwhile.

Grammar helps the mind think, and a person's mind is his privacy, a very delicate part of him. So feeding this part of him with a rushed jumble--forgetting grammar---hurts the mind---and is harsh to it. Few people spend time hurting. So write, and write well.

Yet, in saying all this, there are still audiences for whom grammar may not be necessary, because it may not lead to understanding, and understanding should be the chief reason for writing. But then again, for most literate audiences grammar is crucial to helping the mind properly process what the writing is about.

Ever heard this saying by B.J Chute: "Grammar is to a writer what anatomy is to a sculptor and the scales to a musician, you may loathe it, it may bore you, but nothing will replace it, and once mastered, it will support you like a rock."

Alright, off to your slate. Write.

Paradigm Shift

In countless years past a man had a convo with God. What do you see? 

God and Jeremiah...

God: Jeremiah, What do you see?

Jeremiah: I see the rod of an almond tree

God: You have seen well...

Pen down---the Word and picture says more than I can write. Thanks.

Credits: photo from Janefriedman.com

Some Tools To Help Us

The web has quite a number of resources for learning lots of things. Let's get to know them, for knowledge is power, and our world is not in the least bit static. 

Also, please feel free to bring to the blog other tools you find online.

*Note from Scott's blog: Some of these sites and tools were found via the awesome resources at Uncollege.org.

And let us also use good judgment in accessing these tools, minding time and effort---a multitude of choices can be blinding, too.

Udemy

Courses on just about any subject you want. Create your own or take from others.

Learnable

Another spot to create your own course or take from others. Mainly technology, web development, lifestyle and business.

Khan Academy

Over 2k videos. Great for basic and advanced course in math, sciences and history. For elementary school on up.

University of the People

Free college education over the web.

Alison

Hundreds of free online multimedia training courses.

Google Code University

Is there any better place to learn how to code?

Skillshare

This is actually for live, in-person learning but very cool online platform. You can also teach your own classes to others.

Connexions

A crowd sourcing type of model for creating courses and teaching.

Credit: Created by Scott Dinsmore of www.liveyourlegend.net

LiveYourLegend.net - @_Scott_Dinsmore

Garbage Out, and Light In.

Throwing out all that's trash---doubt, hopelessness, negative thoughts, foolishness, wrong fear, mediocrity, and the like.

Into the garbage they go. Now let the Light come in!  Your Word, O God, is a light and a lifter.

Respect A Penny

If you don't respect a drop of water, you can't have the ocean. Being faithful in the little. The next time you find a penny on the floor, pick it up. I say this for 2 reasons: One, it's money---it's not worthless; two, and more important, it serves as a reminder to you, in building a better mind, to respect every little thing of value, and the mindset is more important than the amount of wealth you have. Your mind is you. 

This thinking is necessary for any creator or person in business. Understanding that things that seem small in value could be turned into very valuable products is at the heart of creativity.


This does not go for only pennies, but many other things in our lives: a glass of water ( turned into bottled water, and sold); a page of a book ( many pages make a book); a sentence, many of them put together becomes a story, and a book; and many others. It all begins with the little things.

Sweeping, And Taking Out The Trash

In a small town in Africa today, a young girl is up early in the morning. She readies to take on her duties for the morning. 

First she washes her face, and if she has a mirror she looks into it to see if all's well....she gets dressed, and picks up a broom and sweeps the entire home. She starts by sweeping the backyard and then the front. 
 
Her brother, who often rises a little later, waits for the whole family to rise, and then without being an inconvenience to them, proceeds to dust off the furniture and property inside---appliances, couches, windows, and doors.

To finish off, his sister cleans the kitchen, does the dishes, and finally takes out the trash. They both take their shower, and are ready for the day. This happens everyday.

…...................................................................................

Over here in Texas, the same thing must happen, with me, in my mind, where I live. 

Every morning calls for me to wash my face with clean water, the Word of God, to rid off sleep. I must check my face in the mirror of the truth, again God's Word---a true reflection---to see if everything is okay.

After I must take a broom, and sweep up and clean off all the dust and dirt that has collected on me, my body, my mind, and my heart---like the little girl and her brother, I need to sweep the yards outside and the rooms inside and dust off the couches, windows, and doors. And finally take out the trash.
 
Yeah, let's take the mornings to clean up and take out the trash---negativity, doubt, hopelessness, ....and all the garbage. It's only a matter of time before it begins to stink, if left inside, and a dirty outside is no good, either. Let's sweep, for mind is home.

No Greater Love

Whatever their planned target, the mortar rounds landed in an orphanage run by a missionary group in the small vietnamese village. The missionaries and one or two children were killed outright, and several more children were wounded, including one young girl about eight years old.

People from the village requested medical help from a neigboring town that had radio contact with the American forces. Finally, an American navy doctor and nurse arrived in a jeep with only their medical kits. 

They established that the girl was the most critically injured. Without quick action, she would die of shock and loss of blood.

A transfusion was imperative, and a donor with a matching blood type was required. A quick test showed that neither American had the correct type, but several of the uninjured orphans did.

The doctor spoke some pidgin Vietnamese, and the nurse a smattering of high school French. Using that combination, together with much impromptu sign language, they tried to explain to their young, frightened audience that unless they could replace some of the girl's lost blood, she would certainly die. 

Then they asked if anyone would be willing to give blood to help.

Their request was met with wide-eyed silence. After several long moments, a small hand slowly and waveringly went up, dropped back down and then went up again.

“Oh, thank you,” the nurse said in French. “What is your name?”

“Heng,”came the reply.

Heng was quickly laid on a pallet, his arm swabbed with alcohol, and a needle inserted in his vein. Through this ordeal Heng lay stiff and silent.

After a moment, he let out a shuddering sob, quickly covering his face with his free hand.

“Is it hurting, Heng?” the doctor asked. Heng shook his head, but after a few moments another sob escaped, and once more he tried to cover up crying. 

Again the doctor asked him if the needle hurt, and again Heng shook his head.

But now his occasional sob gave way to a steady, silent crying, his eyes screwed tightly shut, his fist in his mouth to stifle his sobs.

The medical team was concerned. Something was obviously very wrong. At this point, a Vietnamese nurse arrived to help. Seeing the little one's distress, she spoke to him rapidly in Vietnamese, listened to his reply and answered him in a soothing voice.

After a moment, the patient stopped crying and looked questioningly at the Vietnamese nurse. When she nodded, a look of great relief spread over his face. 

 

Glancing up, the nurse said quietly to the Americans, “He thought he was dying. He misunderstood you. He thought you had asked him to give all his blood so the little girl could live.”

“But why would he be willing to do that?” asked the navy nurse.

The vietnamese nurse repeated the question to the little boy, who answered simply,

 “She's my friend.”

Col. John W. Mansur

Excerpted from The Missileer

Fragile

As the fragile sapling, so are ideas in their infancy...

 

Credit: photo from http://brokenbelievers.com/ 

Wrestle?

I can't wrestle with the truth---it's a battle worse than preventing the fall of night.

We Are Trusting In The Simple

Sharing One Of Our Guiding Thoughts:

Grandma can handle simple....12 year old John will figure out simple....and for Middle-aged Martha, simple is a breeze.

There will always be a customer for the simple...and we don't want the whole world's business.

Ezekiel 4:9

I recently went out with a friend to check out the new Whole Foods Market in our neighborhood in Austin, Texas.

We had always seen the building on our drives back to the apartment, and always thought of one day checking it out. So after shopping at our regular supermarket ( HEB) one day we decided to head over to Whole Foods. We liked it. My friend seemed to be in a hurry, but I seized the opportunity to check out why this store was so liked by many, and I knew I would take whole foods, healthy foods, any day over processed foods. My body deserves it.

A cereal lover, I checked the cereal section, and I heard my buddy laugh. I turned to see why he was, and he pointed to a cereal box on the top shelf. The cereal box read: Ezekiel 4:9.

I wondered what that meant. I picked it up, and read the label: “take thou also unto thee wheat, and and barley and beans and lentils and millet, and fitches, and put them in one vessel, and make bread of it...”

I am a lover of creativity, and a believer in the fact that our Maker, the Lord, has not put the things that are useful to us, the things that will solve our problems, far from us. We must only be willing to look. “Open your eyes, and you shall have a lot of bread ” He once said. 

I bought the cereal, and I liked it. I will not say it's particularly great in taste, but it's good in nutrients, and will advise the makers to make it a little bit of an easy chew. But the point is made: out of the unlikeliest places---the Bible---a business sprouted.

(The makers of that cereal surely have spent a lot of time with the Bible. How do I know this? That particular scripture is hidden in an old, old testament book, not a favorite for most readers of the Bible. Dig deep.)

What else is around is in the book, or close to us that's hiding a viable idea?

To Patience

Oh patience...

You are a perfecter of things
We ignore you, and pay for it
I am yet to see the man prosper who bypasses you

Oh patience, you are awesome
You bring all things into perfect harmony
You bring the baby to birth
You bring the tree to full bloom, and the fruit, too

Oh patience, no man great has done without you
You are needed for all things wise
You are needed for all loves perfect
You are needed for all things built to last

Oh patience, you are from the First
The great King had you in the beginning
And after He calls time, you will remain
Yet how strong is your friendship with time!

And He tells me to get you
In adversity, you are unmoving
In haste, you laugh at men
In trickery, you shake your head

You are to be desired
And for you, I pine

Quien Ha Tocado Mis Vestidos?

Porque Decia: Si tocare tan solamente su manto, sere salva.

Y en seguida la fuente de su sangre se seco; y sintio en el cuerpo que estaba sana de  aquel azote.

Luego Jesus, conociendo en si mismo el poder que habia salido de el, volviendose a la multitud, dijo: Quien ha tocado mis vestidos?

Sus discipulos le dijeron: Ves que la multitud te aprieta, y dices: Quien me ha tocado?

Pero el miraba alrededor para ver quien habia hecho esto.

Entonces la mujer, temiendo y temblando, sabiendo lo que en ella habia sido hecho, vino y se postro delante de el, y le dijo toda la verdad.

Y el le dijo: Hija, tu fe te ha hecho salva; ve en paz, y queda sana de tu azote.

Who touched my clothes?

For she said, If I may but touch his clothes, I will be whole.

And straight away the fountain of her blood was dried up; and she felt in her body that she was healed of her disease.

And Jesus immediately knowing in himself that virtue had gone out of him, turned around in the crowd, and said, "who touched my clothes?

And his disciples said, You see the multitude thronging you, and you say, "Who touched me?"

And he looked round about and saw the woman who touched him.

But the woman was afraid and trembling, knowing what had happened inside her, came and fell down before him, and told him all the truth.

And he told her, Daughter, your faith has made you whole; go in peace, and be whole of your disease.

..............................................

Peace to all.

One Voice

One voice
I have to find it

One voice for truth
I am praying

One voice for sense
I am seeking

One voice for yay
I am saying

One voice for nay
I am standing

One voice for love
Will not fold my arms

Lines

I looked at my palms today

I saw lines

Lines for what?

I lift a cup, and I can raise it up to my lips
I pick up a spoon, and it does not slip
I dig my hands into food, and feed myself
After ward, I rub my palms to wash

I shake a man's hand, and his lines and mine register
I grab a tree limb to climb, and it does not hurt
What if I used my palm's back?

I dip my hand into lotion, and I smear my body
I hold a traveling bag's hand, and it's secure
I turn a door knob, and it's with ease
 
I grab a pen, and it stays held  
I flip the pages of a book, and something picks the page 
I turn the cap of a bottle, and my strength is nothing without the lines.

The fool has said in his heart, “There is no God.”

I am Human

I am human
I am a creature
I have hands and feet

I am human
I am a creature
I have eyes and ears

I am human
I am a creature
I have a nose and mouth

I am human
I am a creature
I have a head of hair

I am human
I can't fly
I was created.

Who Am I Writing For?

People who have a respect for words

Folks who love the art of writing

Guys who love the art of the simple, and believe in the minimal

People who see value everywhere

Folks who believe that a single phrase in the right place in the right moment has few equals in power

Guys who want to create something useful and trade with the world

And people who love peace---the Word Of God---and live in and by it.

Vanity

My days are numbered
Rid me of vanity, O God.

Money

Money

“You've got to read his book---Gifted Hands,” the pastor said. “His story amazes me, how a young black mother here in America was able to raise two black boys into fine citizens, one of them in particular...." I sat in church and listened. I wondered a bit---why this man's story was a major fixture of the sermon today.

The day was a sunday, at Salvation Center, and the Preacher was Pastor Doyin Oke. He'd recently read the book by renowned neurosurgeon Dr. Ben Carson.

I thought of the story a while, trying to measure it's weight. I spent a few minutes, and simply left it to lie. 

And then I found myself wandering the isles of the Barnes and Noble bookstore at the Arboretum here in Austin, and the book showed up, and it beckoned: Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story. Is this not the very book the pastor talked about? I thought. Yeah, it is. Well, let's see what's in here.

I read it a bit---not bad, I thought, after a few pages. But I kept reading, and reading, and the clock struck 10pm, closing time for the bookstore. I had to leave. I could not put the book down. Either buy it or put it back on the rack---I had to decide. I bought it, and left.

Here is an excerpt from his days at the University of Yale...in his own words.

Money

Lack of money constantly troubled me during my college years. But two experiences during my studies at Yale reminded me that God cared and would always provide for my needs.

First, during my sophomore year I had very little money. And then all of a sudden, I had absolutely no money---not even enough to ride the bus back and forth to church. No matter how I viewed the situation, I had no prospects of anything coming in for at least a couple of weeks.

That day I walked across the campus alone, bewailing my situation, tired of never having enough money to buy the everyday things I needed; the simple things like toothpaste or stamps.”Lord,” I prayed, please help me. At least give me bus fare to go to church.”

Although I'd been walking aimlessly, I looked up and realized I was just outside Battell Chapel on the old campus. As I approached the bike racks, I looked down. A ten dollar bill lay crumpled on the ground three feet in front of me.

“Thank You, God,” I said as I picked it up, hardly able to believe that I had the money in my hand.

The following I hit that same low point again---not one cent on me, and no expectations for getting any. Naturally I walked across campus all the way to the chapel, searching for a ten dollar bill. I found none.

Lack of funds wasn't my only worry that day, however. The day before I'd been informed that the final examination papers in a psychology class, Perceptions 301, “were inadvertently burned.” I'd taken the exam two days earlier but, with the other students, would have to repeat the test.

And so I, with about 150 other students, went to the designated auditorium for the repeat exam.

As soon as we received the tests, the professor walked out of the classroom. Before I had a chance to read the first question, I heard a loud groan behind me.

“Are they kidding?” someone whispered loudly.

As I stared at the questions, I couldn't believe them either. They were incredibly difficult, if not impossible. Each of them contained a thread of what we should have known from the course, but they were so intricate that I figured a brilliant psychiatrist might have trouble with some of them.

“Forget it,” I heard one girl say to another. “Let's go back and study this. We can say we didn't read the notice. Then when they repeat it, we'll be ready.” Her friend agreed, and they quietly slipped out of the auditorium.

Immediately three others packed away their paper. Others filtered out. Within ten minutes after the exam started, we were down to roughly one hundred. Soon half the class was gone, and the exodus continued. Not one person turned in the examination before leaving.

I kept working away, thinking all the time, How can they expect us to know this stuff? Pausing then to look around, I counted seven students besides me still going over the test.

Within half an hour from the time the examination began, I was the only student left in the room. Like the others, I was tempted to walk out, bu I had read the notice, and I couldn't like and say I hadn't. All the time I wrote my answers, I prayed to God to help me figure out what to put down. I paid more no more attention to departing footsteps.

Suddenly the door of the classroom opened noisily, disrupting my flow of thought. As I turned, my gaze met that of the professor. At the same time I realized no one else was still struggling over the questions. The professor toward me. With her was a photographer for the Yale Daily News who paused and snapped my picture.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“A hoax, a fake,” the teacher said. “We wanted to see who was the most honest student in the class.” She smiled again. “And that's you.”

The professor then did something even better. She handed me a ten-dollar bill.

Who's Going To Stop Me?

Six year old Angie and her four year old brother, Joel, were sitting together in church. Joel giggled, sang, and talked out loud. Finally, his big sister had had enough.

“You are not supposed to talk out loud in church.”

“Why? Who’s going to stop me?” Joel asked.

Angie pointed to the back of the church and said, “See those two men standing by the door? They are hushers.”

Richard Lederer

From: Chicken Soup For The Christian Soul.

Blessed be God

Blessed be God who causes us to endure
Who makes all grace abound unto us
Who keeps us on the path that's good

Blessed be God who does good!

The Reality

Thoughts of the reality feel my mind
It can never be changed
What's true, what works

How can I lay hold on it?

Make Me Like Joe!

Make Me Like Joe!

If you think you can't make a difference, think again       Paul J. Meyer

Joe was a drunk who was miraculously converted at a Bowery mission. Prior to his conversion, Joe had gained the reputation of being a hopeless dirty wino for whom there was no hope, only a miserable existence in the ghetto. But following his conversion to a new life with God, everything changed. Joe became the most caring person that anyone associated with the mission had ever known.

Joe spent his days and nights hanging out at the mission, doing whatever needed to be done. There was never any task that was too lowly for Joe to take on. There was never anything that he was asked to do that he considered beneath him.

Whether it was cleaning up the vomit left by some violently sick person or scrubbing the toilets after careless men left the men's room filthy. Joe did what was asked with a smile on his face and a seeming gratitude for the chance to help. He could be counted on to feed feeble men who wandered into the mission and off the street and to undress and tuck bed men who were too out of it to take care of themselves. 

One evening, when the mission director was delivering his evangelistic message to the usual crowd of still and sullen men with drooped heads, one man looked up, came down the aisle to the altar and knelt to pray, crying out for God to help him to change. 

The repentant drunk kept shouting, "Oh God! Make me like Joe! Make me like Joe! Make me like Joe! Make me like Joe!"

The director of the mission leaned over and said to the man, "Son, I think it would be better if you prayed, 'Make me like Jesus.'"

The man looked up at the director with a quizzical expression on his face and asked, "Is he like Joe?"     

                                                                                                        Tony Campolo