Click on the link below and then type in your first name . .
http://www.cse.unsw.edu.au/~geoffo/humour/flattery.html
Friday, June 29, 2007
The Courage To Continue
Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.
Winston Churchill
If like me you have got to the end of a week that seemed like it would never end, and are looking back and thinking how little you did, how many things you left undone and how many things you didn't have time to accomplish, then take a deep breath. God knows, God understands and God is there.
Next week is another week. A new week. If you have a good week full of success, it doesn't guarantee good weeks ever after. If you have a hard week full of failure, it doesn't mean you won't ever have a good week again. What matters is pressing on, doing your best and facing the next week with courage and the determination to try again.
Winston Churchill
If like me you have got to the end of a week that seemed like it would never end, and are looking back and thinking how little you did, how many things you left undone and how many things you didn't have time to accomplish, then take a deep breath. God knows, God understands and God is there.
Next week is another week. A new week. If you have a good week full of success, it doesn't guarantee good weeks ever after. If you have a hard week full of failure, it doesn't mean you won't ever have a good week again. What matters is pressing on, doing your best and facing the next week with courage and the determination to try again.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
A Sweeter Day
Beep, beep, beep. You reach up a wandering hand, groping for the switch on your alarm. After you've fumbled around for a few seconds you manage to stop that annoying little beeping noise that shatters your fanciful delusions that maybe you won't have to get up for another couple of hours.
You lie on your back in bed, blinking groggily up at the ceiling. As your bleary eyes begin to clear and the world comes into focus you wander why people always put wood-chip paper on the ceiling, right where it will confuse you first thing in the morning. After deciding that you can't stay in bed contemplating the wood-chips all day, you manage to drag yourself out of bed and open the curtains. The sun floods into your room and another day has begun.
Your quiet time has set you straight for the day ahead and you are now free enough of sleep to run downstairs quite briskly. On the other hand, maybe it isn't a wakeful state that is causing your swift progress downstairs, but the thought of a reviving cup of tea. As you sleepily sip your tea at the kitchen table, you decide it must be the tea, not a wakeful state.
Tea was a definite improvement and you begin to sing as you get ready for your shower. The shower produces all you hoped it would - a feeling of being clean and - at last - a feeling of being awake. It has also made you aware of how hungry you are. Breakfast beckons.
You make out your to-do list for the day. Then you decide that it might be a better idea if you went back to bed for a long lie-down. You need it after that. However, there is work to do and you decide that showing some fight and grit might get you farther through your list then crawling back under the covers. Oh well, the bed will still be there at the end of the day - you hope.
As the morning starts to draw to a close, you have an aching wrist after hours of typing 'j, shift-6, period' over and over again. Then over and over again some more. You wouldn't call converting HTML files an interesting task, but at least it gives you time to think. Pressing the same three keys multiple times one after another is not what you would call mentally demanding.
You are starting to feel out of breath as you run around trying to get all your jobs done. Another cup of tea and a brief walk outside help to bring some energy back into your very tired limbs and lift a little of the weight from behind your eyes. You ask yourself why you are quite so tired today.
While wondering how many hours you have left to go you let out two simultaneous groans - one because bed with all its attractions of a cozy read and a good sleep is still a long way off and two because you know you'll never be able to get all you have to get done finished in that time.
As you sit still for a few minutes, thinking how hard it sometimes is to get through a long day using a very tired body, you realize that it isn't just you against the day. God has given you the day as a precious gift and He is walking through it with you. This day holds as many opportunities to make a difference in life as you care to use.
You sit feeling discouraged. All you've been able to do is feel tired, drag your body from one place to another, press computer keys for a couple of hours and stare dizzily at an over-optimistic to-do list.
What you don't remember is the kind word you said to your sister, the note you sent to a friend who was having a hard day, the song you were singing to God this morning, the package you sent to a friend, the time you took to make a card for a stressed-out family. Maybe none of those things were on your to-do list and maybe you can't cross them off with a feeling of accomplishment, but when you finally get to lie your tied head on your pillow, you will have left the day a better and sweeter one then when you first switched off your alarm this morning.
You lie on your back in bed, blinking groggily up at the ceiling. As your bleary eyes begin to clear and the world comes into focus you wander why people always put wood-chip paper on the ceiling, right where it will confuse you first thing in the morning. After deciding that you can't stay in bed contemplating the wood-chips all day, you manage to drag yourself out of bed and open the curtains. The sun floods into your room and another day has begun.
Your quiet time has set you straight for the day ahead and you are now free enough of sleep to run downstairs quite briskly. On the other hand, maybe it isn't a wakeful state that is causing your swift progress downstairs, but the thought of a reviving cup of tea. As you sleepily sip your tea at the kitchen table, you decide it must be the tea, not a wakeful state.
Tea was a definite improvement and you begin to sing as you get ready for your shower. The shower produces all you hoped it would - a feeling of being clean and - at last - a feeling of being awake. It has also made you aware of how hungry you are. Breakfast beckons.
You make out your to-do list for the day. Then you decide that it might be a better idea if you went back to bed for a long lie-down. You need it after that. However, there is work to do and you decide that showing some fight and grit might get you farther through your list then crawling back under the covers. Oh well, the bed will still be there at the end of the day - you hope.
As the morning starts to draw to a close, you have an aching wrist after hours of typing 'j, shift-6, period' over and over again. Then over and over again some more. You wouldn't call converting HTML files an interesting task, but at least it gives you time to think. Pressing the same three keys multiple times one after another is not what you would call mentally demanding.
You are starting to feel out of breath as you run around trying to get all your jobs done. Another cup of tea and a brief walk outside help to bring some energy back into your very tired limbs and lift a little of the weight from behind your eyes. You ask yourself why you are quite so tired today.
While wondering how many hours you have left to go you let out two simultaneous groans - one because bed with all its attractions of a cozy read and a good sleep is still a long way off and two because you know you'll never be able to get all you have to get done finished in that time.
As you sit still for a few minutes, thinking how hard it sometimes is to get through a long day using a very tired body, you realize that it isn't just you against the day. God has given you the day as a precious gift and He is walking through it with you. This day holds as many opportunities to make a difference in life as you care to use.
You sit feeling discouraged. All you've been able to do is feel tired, drag your body from one place to another, press computer keys for a couple of hours and stare dizzily at an over-optimistic to-do list.
What you don't remember is the kind word you said to your sister, the note you sent to a friend who was having a hard day, the song you were singing to God this morning, the package you sent to a friend, the time you took to make a card for a stressed-out family. Maybe none of those things were on your to-do list and maybe you can't cross them off with a feeling of accomplishment, but when you finally get to lie your tied head on your pillow, you will have left the day a better and sweeter one then when you first switched off your alarm this morning.
Wednesday, June 27, 2007
A Glow Worm
"We are all worms, but I intend to be a glowworm."
Winston Churchill
I don't believe I'm a worm - but I do intend to glow!!
Winston Churchill
I don't believe I'm a worm - but I do intend to glow!!
Changing The World - A Word At A Time
Today my sister left me a note to let me know that she thinks I'm amazing.
My day had not been going too well, but after I had read her note, a smile spread over my face, I could feel the new light coming into my eyes and I wouldn't have been surprised if people could have seen the warm glow around my heart. That note changed my day and I know that I will be carrying the special feeling around inside me for the rest of my life.
I still remember nice things that someone said about me, something I had done or the way I looked from fifteen plus years ago. Someone said how pretty I looked in a little green dress with a smocked front, a white scalloped collar with little flowers around the edge and a big sash that tied up behind. My Mother said that a drawing I had done of a bird was really good. A friend said how sweet she thought I was. My sister said what a good job I had done on a piece of writing. A friend said how much she appreciated me and what I did for her.
When somebody says nice or encouraging things to me, it makes my day happier, but it also makes me happy every time I think about it in the following days, months or years.
Everyone of those people who have ever said a good word to or about me, have helped to change my life - for the better.
Think how many people's lives we could change for the better by simply taking the time to say a nice or encouraging word to someone we know.
The first couple of times it may feel a little staged, it may be a little awkward and the person may look surprised, incredulous or sceptical, but I would rather feel a little awkward and have someone look surprised and know that what I said might help that person feel better about themselves and bring a little happiness into their day and maybe any number of days in the future.
When you think someones dress is nice - tell them how well it suits them.
When someone gives you a present - make sure you thank them for thinking of you.
If someone does a good job - tell them how well they did.
In the morning - say a cheerful hello.
In the store at the checkout - say a smiling thank you.
If someone asks you how you are - don't forget to ask them too.
If your friend is looking nice - tell her how pretty she is.
When you know someone has been having a tough day or week - tell them you've been praying for them.
Who knows - maybe after you have said something nice to them, they will be encouraged to say something nice to someone else, who will be encouraged to say something nice to someone else ...
Just say nice things to people - each and every day in every small or big way.
That is what I am going to do - changing the world every word along the way.
My day had not been going too well, but after I had read her note, a smile spread over my face, I could feel the new light coming into my eyes and I wouldn't have been surprised if people could have seen the warm glow around my heart. That note changed my day and I know that I will be carrying the special feeling around inside me for the rest of my life.
I still remember nice things that someone said about me, something I had done or the way I looked from fifteen plus years ago. Someone said how pretty I looked in a little green dress with a smocked front, a white scalloped collar with little flowers around the edge and a big sash that tied up behind. My Mother said that a drawing I had done of a bird was really good. A friend said how sweet she thought I was. My sister said what a good job I had done on a piece of writing. A friend said how much she appreciated me and what I did for her.
When somebody says nice or encouraging things to me, it makes my day happier, but it also makes me happy every time I think about it in the following days, months or years.
Everyone of those people who have ever said a good word to or about me, have helped to change my life - for the better.
Think how many people's lives we could change for the better by simply taking the time to say a nice or encouraging word to someone we know.
The first couple of times it may feel a little staged, it may be a little awkward and the person may look surprised, incredulous or sceptical, but I would rather feel a little awkward and have someone look surprised and know that what I said might help that person feel better about themselves and bring a little happiness into their day and maybe any number of days in the future.
When you think someones dress is nice - tell them how well it suits them.
When someone gives you a present - make sure you thank them for thinking of you.
If someone does a good job - tell them how well they did.
In the morning - say a cheerful hello.
In the store at the checkout - say a smiling thank you.
If someone asks you how you are - don't forget to ask them too.
If your friend is looking nice - tell her how pretty she is.
When you know someone has been having a tough day or week - tell them you've been praying for them.
Who knows - maybe after you have said something nice to them, they will be encouraged to say something nice to someone else, who will be encouraged to say something nice to someone else ...
Just say nice things to people - each and every day in every small or big way.
That is what I am going to do - changing the world every word along the way.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Laughing In The Rain
Last night my sister and I opened the door to find that while we had been inside having a nice, dry and fun time with our friends, the heavens had opened - and hadn't yet closed themselves.
We had to get all the way across two parking lots and a road to find the car and I had not brought an umbrella with with me. I was going to get very, very wet.
Oh well. Let's go!
We dashed out the door and down the steps and started running, rain pouring out of the sky and pelting against our faces as we jumped across puddles (or into them, depending on how agile we happened to be), leaped from the sidewalk to the road and back again and sang an old rhyme about rain at the very tops of our voices.
We arrived at the car breathless and yes - very wet.
I don't think that anyone witnessed our wild, vocal dash in the rain, but you know, I really don't care if they did.
My sister and I were having fun, being silly and just having a laugh together. We weren't doing it for anyone else, but if someone else saw and it made them smile or laugh, then a wet sweater and dripping hair was worth it.
We had to get all the way across two parking lots and a road to find the car and I had not brought an umbrella with with me. I was going to get very, very wet.
Oh well. Let's go!
We dashed out the door and down the steps and started running, rain pouring out of the sky and pelting against our faces as we jumped across puddles (or into them, depending on how agile we happened to be), leaped from the sidewalk to the road and back again and sang an old rhyme about rain at the very tops of our voices.
We arrived at the car breathless and yes - very wet.
I don't think that anyone witnessed our wild, vocal dash in the rain, but you know, I really don't care if they did.
My sister and I were having fun, being silly and just having a laugh together. We weren't doing it for anyone else, but if someone else saw and it made them smile or laugh, then a wet sweater and dripping hair was worth it.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
If You Have Ever Wondered What Tiredness Was ...
Tiredness.
A heavy feeling that descends over your eyes.
A feeling of sluggishness about the arms and legs.
Lead weights that settle behind your forehead and make your head heavy.
A lack of eagerness to be up and doing.
A hate for all forms of any movement even closely resembling exercise.
A state which reduces your brain power to a quarter of it's normal output.
A condition that leaves you feeling like you are wondering around separated from everybody and everything by an invisible glass wall that you just can't quite summon up enough energy to overcome.
A feeling that usually results in saying entirely the wrong thing at the wrong time not because you meant to, but because you're too confused to say anything in a straight line.
A state that leaves your brain disconnected from your mouth so that you ramble on for half an hour saying everything and anything that comes into your head without having the faintest idea what you are saying, where the words are coming from or how to stop yourself and without knowing what relevance what you are saying has to do with the conversation - if any.
Rather like this post.
A heavy feeling that descends over your eyes.
A feeling of sluggishness about the arms and legs.
Lead weights that settle behind your forehead and make your head heavy.
A lack of eagerness to be up and doing.
A hate for all forms of any movement even closely resembling exercise.
A state which reduces your brain power to a quarter of it's normal output.
A condition that leaves you feeling like you are wondering around separated from everybody and everything by an invisible glass wall that you just can't quite summon up enough energy to overcome.
A feeling that usually results in saying entirely the wrong thing at the wrong time not because you meant to, but because you're too confused to say anything in a straight line.
A state that leaves your brain disconnected from your mouth so that you ramble on for half an hour saying everything and anything that comes into your head without having the faintest idea what you are saying, where the words are coming from or how to stop yourself and without knowing what relevance what you are saying has to do with the conversation - if any.
Rather like this post.
Friday, June 22, 2007
Just A Moment
Last Sunday I was making lunch for my Dad and sister while the rest of the family was out. I decided to do something a little special and was bustling around the kitchen, when a box of apples caught my eye. By accident we had ended up with about 24 apples - rather a lot. I paused mid-stride and contemplated the apples. Yes - I'd do it! With just twenty minutes to go until the lunch was cooked I made an apple pie. I do crazy things like that, but it payed off this time. The pie cooked while we were eating lunch and we enjoyed it hot out of the oven with cream.
We had visitors for the week and we went out and sat by a river and ate ice-creams. The wind was blowing our hair, the sun was shining and the ice-creams were delicious. We sat there watching the water, laughing over some funny stories and just enjoying a perfect few minutes.
Driving pack from a trip with some friends along we decided to do something to make the journey fun. Singing seemed to be the order of the day, so why not sing through The Sound of Music? We spent half an hours singing all the songs we could remember from not only The Sound of Music, but My Fair Lady, Slipper and The Rose, Seven Brides For Seven Brothers and some other favourites. It was so much fun!
Three moments in a busy week. Three little brakes from a busy time. They were just taken and enjoyed for what they were right then.
We had visitors for the week and we went out and sat by a river and ate ice-creams. The wind was blowing our hair, the sun was shining and the ice-creams were delicious. We sat there watching the water, laughing over some funny stories and just enjoying a perfect few minutes.
Driving pack from a trip with some friends along we decided to do something to make the journey fun. Singing seemed to be the order of the day, so why not sing through The Sound of Music? We spent half an hours singing all the songs we could remember from not only The Sound of Music, but My Fair Lady, Slipper and The Rose, Seven Brides For Seven Brothers and some other favourites. It was so much fun!
Three moments in a busy week. Three little brakes from a busy time. They were just taken and enjoyed for what they were right then.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Living Life
I could not, at any age, be content to take my place in a corner by the fireside and simply look on. Life was meant to be lived. Curiosity must be kept alive. One must never, for whatever reason, turn his back on life. Eleanor Roosevelt
Thursday, June 14, 2007
People In The Park
I'm sitting on the grass in a park. It's a warm, cloudy day. It's around 1pm and there is that lunch-time lull in the air.
A young man in gray pants and a stripped t-shirt is lying on one elbow, eating a banana and reading something. What is he reading? Is he a college student getting a head-start on his summer reading or is he an office worker who's enjoying a new book in his lunch break?
A little boy in purple shorts and a red sweater is swinging on the iron railings. His straight brown hair is hanging down over his eyes and he has an adorable smile. He's out with his parents and baby brother on a picnic and he is having so much fun.
There are two people lying on their fronts in the grass, close to three huge trees on the far side of the park. Maybe they are two girls telling best-friend secrets and giggling over the movie they watched last night. Maybe they are a newly-engaged couple who are looking at each other and seeing a future of happiness ahead as they plan their wedding.
There is an old lady with white hair and wearing a checked shirt, who is walking her dog. She has her purse in one hand and the dog's lead in the other hand and is walking purposefully across the grass. Is she making sure she gets the best exercise possible, or is she headed somewhere special? Maybe she's going to go and see her newest grandchild at the hospital, or perhaps her husband is waiting at home for his lunch.
Everywhere there are people walking. Where are they going and what are they doing? What are their dreams in life? Are they happy or sad, regretting the past or anticipating the future? Are they lost in a world with no meaning or are they looking forward with hope to an eternity with God?
A young man in gray pants and a stripped t-shirt is lying on one elbow, eating a banana and reading something. What is he reading? Is he a college student getting a head-start on his summer reading or is he an office worker who's enjoying a new book in his lunch break?
A little boy in purple shorts and a red sweater is swinging on the iron railings. His straight brown hair is hanging down over his eyes and he has an adorable smile. He's out with his parents and baby brother on a picnic and he is having so much fun.
There are two people lying on their fronts in the grass, close to three huge trees on the far side of the park. Maybe they are two girls telling best-friend secrets and giggling over the movie they watched last night. Maybe they are a newly-engaged couple who are looking at each other and seeing a future of happiness ahead as they plan their wedding.
There is an old lady with white hair and wearing a checked shirt, who is walking her dog. She has her purse in one hand and the dog's lead in the other hand and is walking purposefully across the grass. Is she making sure she gets the best exercise possible, or is she headed somewhere special? Maybe she's going to go and see her newest grandchild at the hospital, or perhaps her husband is waiting at home for his lunch.
Everywhere there are people walking. Where are they going and what are they doing? What are their dreams in life? Are they happy or sad, regretting the past or anticipating the future? Are they lost in a world with no meaning or are they looking forward with hope to an eternity with God?
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Monday, June 11, 2007
The Adventure Of The Birthday Card
Yesterday afternoon I put a birthday card in someone's mail-box. I have no idea who the mail-box belonged to, but I did it anyway.
I didn't just decide on the spare of the moment to stop in the middle of the street and dump a card in some totally unknown person's mail-box. No, this was pre-meditated. This was a deliberate and previously thought out act. It wasn't, however, a practical joke. This was an act of desperation.
A group of us at church had signed this ill-fated birthday card for a friend. We had it ready in plenty of time the week before his birthday and I was charged with making sure the card reached it's intended destination. He wasn't in church that Sunday, but no problem - I could get his house number from someone during the week. Sadly, no one knew his house number.
Yesterday I missed the poor boy again. By this time he had already had his birthday two days ago. I was certain of one thing - I was not going to carry the birthday card around in my bag from week to week on the off-chance of meeting him somewhere and being able to deliver the card. I might not bump into him for weeks, in which case I might as well throw the card away. It was time to take the situation firmly into my own hands.
A number of months ago the same group of us who had signed the birthday card had been going out for a meal. We went past the birthday-boy's house to collect him on our way. We knew the street, but not the house number. Even if we had known the house number, we didn't know which flat he lived in. Thankfully, it was a very small street and we had the choice of only about four houses. It was decided that ringing the bell of every flat, in all four houses until we found the right one might not be the best way to go about it. As no one thought of phoning him, another option was decided on. I am still not convinced that it was any better then ringing on all the door-bells in the street.
We all stood in a row on the sidewalk, looked up at the houses and shouted his name at the tops of our voices. Let me qualify that - everyone else shouted his name at the tops of their voices while I stood there laughing too hard to say anything. We got a lot more than we deserved. It would have served us right if everyone on the street had stuck their heads out of their windows and stared at us. Instead, the boy in question threw open his window and sticking his head out of the window shouted down: "What are you doing?!" Good question.
I didn't know all those months ago that I would shortly be needing to deliver a birthday card to the exact same location, otherwise I would most definitely have been careful to memorize both the flat and house number for future reference. I didn't know that I would ever need such a piece of information, so I didn't memorize it. We learn from our mistakes.
Yesterday afternoon I drove by the street and stood on the sidewalk, trying to envisage standing there with my friends a while back; trying to envisage the direction we were facing when we shouted; trying to envisage out of which head the window had popped. Eventually I plumped on a house and stood before the row of mail-boxes. I tilted my head to one-side and screwed up my nose, trying to work out which flat was the right flat. A couple of girls walked up the street and looked at me, obviously wondering why I was studying a couple of mail-boxes with such intensity. I decided not to explain - it might have got kind of confusing.
I really had not got much idea which flat belonged to the the boy who's already-late birthday card I was taking such pains to deliver. In the end, I decided I would have to trust to human kindness. I guessed at a mail-box, thrust the card inside and walked back to the car. I am hoping that if it ended up in the wrong mail-box, the person who found it knew the person it was intended for, and transferred it to the correct box. If there are two people with the exact same name living in side-by-side flats, then someone is going to be very confused.
That would make two of us.
I didn't just decide on the spare of the moment to stop in the middle of the street and dump a card in some totally unknown person's mail-box. No, this was pre-meditated. This was a deliberate and previously thought out act. It wasn't, however, a practical joke. This was an act of desperation.
A group of us at church had signed this ill-fated birthday card for a friend. We had it ready in plenty of time the week before his birthday and I was charged with making sure the card reached it's intended destination. He wasn't in church that Sunday, but no problem - I could get his house number from someone during the week. Sadly, no one knew his house number.
Yesterday I missed the poor boy again. By this time he had already had his birthday two days ago. I was certain of one thing - I was not going to carry the birthday card around in my bag from week to week on the off-chance of meeting him somewhere and being able to deliver the card. I might not bump into him for weeks, in which case I might as well throw the card away. It was time to take the situation firmly into my own hands.
A number of months ago the same group of us who had signed the birthday card had been going out for a meal. We went past the birthday-boy's house to collect him on our way. We knew the street, but not the house number. Even if we had known the house number, we didn't know which flat he lived in. Thankfully, it was a very small street and we had the choice of only about four houses. It was decided that ringing the bell of every flat, in all four houses until we found the right one might not be the best way to go about it. As no one thought of phoning him, another option was decided on. I am still not convinced that it was any better then ringing on all the door-bells in the street.
We all stood in a row on the sidewalk, looked up at the houses and shouted his name at the tops of our voices. Let me qualify that - everyone else shouted his name at the tops of their voices while I stood there laughing too hard to say anything. We got a lot more than we deserved. It would have served us right if everyone on the street had stuck their heads out of their windows and stared at us. Instead, the boy in question threw open his window and sticking his head out of the window shouted down: "What are you doing?!" Good question.
I didn't know all those months ago that I would shortly be needing to deliver a birthday card to the exact same location, otherwise I would most definitely have been careful to memorize both the flat and house number for future reference. I didn't know that I would ever need such a piece of information, so I didn't memorize it. We learn from our mistakes.
Yesterday afternoon I drove by the street and stood on the sidewalk, trying to envisage standing there with my friends a while back; trying to envisage the direction we were facing when we shouted; trying to envisage out of which head the window had popped. Eventually I plumped on a house and stood before the row of mail-boxes. I tilted my head to one-side and screwed up my nose, trying to work out which flat was the right flat. A couple of girls walked up the street and looked at me, obviously wondering why I was studying a couple of mail-boxes with such intensity. I decided not to explain - it might have got kind of confusing.
I really had not got much idea which flat belonged to the the boy who's already-late birthday card I was taking such pains to deliver. In the end, I decided I would have to trust to human kindness. I guessed at a mail-box, thrust the card inside and walked back to the car. I am hoping that if it ended up in the wrong mail-box, the person who found it knew the person it was intended for, and transferred it to the correct box. If there are two people with the exact same name living in side-by-side flats, then someone is going to be very confused.
That would make two of us.
Friday, June 8, 2007
Such A Big God!
Yesterday I was at the beach. I stood at the edge of the beach, the wet sand oozing in between my toes, the waves rushing up and swirling about my legs, then sweeping back down to join the next wave as it rushed up the beach. Looking straight out to sea it felt like the expanse of water was taller then me and that if I walked out on the same level, I would end up standing chin-deep in the water. I stood beside the sea feeling very small before a very big ocean. I stood beside the sea feeling very small before a very big God.
This week I was at a Sunday School planning meeting. Someone suggested that we prayed before we began the meeting, so we all sat round waiting for someone else to pray. One girl asked two other girls if they would pray and they shyly shook their heads no, so she raised her eyes and hands heavenwards and said, "Why is everyone afraid to pray out loud? We're just praying to God after all!" One of the boys spoke out, "That's right, just the Creator of the world."
The other morning I read this verse in Job: "Whether for correction, or for His world, or for lovingkindness, He causes it to happen." (Job 37v13) It reminded me that this is His world - He created it and He rules over it.
God is so powerful, so immense, so big! Yet He loves us so much He sent His only Son to die on the cross for our sins! He is so big and so mighty, holding the whole world in His hands, yet He wants a personal and living relationship with each and every one of us!
Only such an immense and big God could have so much love for each and every one of us!
This week I was at a Sunday School planning meeting. Someone suggested that we prayed before we began the meeting, so we all sat round waiting for someone else to pray. One girl asked two other girls if they would pray and they shyly shook their heads no, so she raised her eyes and hands heavenwards and said, "Why is everyone afraid to pray out loud? We're just praying to God after all!" One of the boys spoke out, "That's right, just the Creator of the world."
The other morning I read this verse in Job: "Whether for correction, or for His world, or for lovingkindness, He causes it to happen." (Job 37v13) It reminded me that this is His world - He created it and He rules over it.
God is so powerful, so immense, so big! Yet He loves us so much He sent His only Son to die on the cross for our sins! He is so big and so mighty, holding the whole world in His hands, yet He wants a personal and living relationship with each and every one of us!
Only such an immense and big God could have so much love for each and every one of us!
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Think About This
I got this in an e-mail this afternoon. Go away and think about it.
Remember ... Just going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more then standing in your garage makes you a car.
Remember ... Just going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more then standing in your garage makes you a car.
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Just Me
Whenever I open a book written for girls, or a women's book which talks about what you were like when you were little, I always feel slightly like a second-class girl.
The presumption is made, by just about all books and repeated in just about all conversations, that all girls want to be a princess, can't wait to wear make-up for the first time, giggle over boys, think of nothing but fashion and shoes, will read and watch only those stories that are romantic and end happily-ever-after and above all - think that all things pink and fluffy are the best.
As a girl who loved nothing better then running around outside in a pair of jeans getting hot and dirty, preferred boys' adventure to girls' romantic, hated those fussy fluffy things, would rather have been an astronaut then a princess and would get fussed to pieces if she had to wear make-up, I find that according to most people, I am not really a girl.
So as I am a girl, but don't fit into most people's idea of what a girl should be, what exactly am I? Should I let my identity be shaped or threatened by people's expectations? Do I have to fit into someone else's box to be who I am?
I believe that I am unique. I believe that I am someone who nobody else has ever been or ever will be. No one else has ever had my combination of likes and dislikes, of strong-points and weak-points, of characteristics, of features and behaviour. How can the writer of a book tell me that I either am or am not truly a girl?
The only thing that we can truly be is ourselves. No one else has ever, or will ever, have the opportunity to be us! God made us as we are because that is how He wants us to be! It is not a list in a book that should be defining us - it is God. It is not other people's expectations that should be telling us who we are - God has made us who we are. It is not other people's character traits that should be prescribing what our own should be - it is God.
When God created us He gave us one of the best gifts in this world - He gave us ourselves. Ourselves is exactly what we should be - no one more, no one less.
The presumption is made, by just about all books and repeated in just about all conversations, that all girls want to be a princess, can't wait to wear make-up for the first time, giggle over boys, think of nothing but fashion and shoes, will read and watch only those stories that are romantic and end happily-ever-after and above all - think that all things pink and fluffy are the best.
As a girl who loved nothing better then running around outside in a pair of jeans getting hot and dirty, preferred boys' adventure to girls' romantic, hated those fussy fluffy things, would rather have been an astronaut then a princess and would get fussed to pieces if she had to wear make-up, I find that according to most people, I am not really a girl.
So as I am a girl, but don't fit into most people's idea of what a girl should be, what exactly am I? Should I let my identity be shaped or threatened by people's expectations? Do I have to fit into someone else's box to be who I am?
I believe that I am unique. I believe that I am someone who nobody else has ever been or ever will be. No one else has ever had my combination of likes and dislikes, of strong-points and weak-points, of characteristics, of features and behaviour. How can the writer of a book tell me that I either am or am not truly a girl?
The only thing that we can truly be is ourselves. No one else has ever, or will ever, have the opportunity to be us! God made us as we are because that is how He wants us to be! It is not a list in a book that should be defining us - it is God. It is not other people's expectations that should be telling us who we are - God has made us who we are. It is not other people's character traits that should be prescribing what our own should be - it is God.
When God created us He gave us one of the best gifts in this world - He gave us ourselves. Ourselves is exactly what we should be - no one more, no one less.
Sunday, June 3, 2007
Is This Contagious?
I was yawning this afternoon. It just happened. I didn't start it. No, it was my friend on the other side of the ocean. We were talking on the 'phone and they started yawning. So I started yawning.
Do we yawn when other people yawn to keep them company? Do we think that they will be lonely if we don't yawn as well? Are we trying to start up a new craze for Yawn Symphonies? Is it because we are actually tired, so seeing someone else yawn makes our bodies more aware of it? Is it because we are a race of compulsive imitators? As soon as we see someone doing something that we aren't doing, we have to join in, we can't bear to be left behind!
For whatever reason, the fact remains that yawns are contagious. You see someone on the other side of the room cover their mouth and yawn and immediately your throat starts to tighten and lo and behold, in a few moments time, a yawn pops out of your mouth. You are talking to someone and they pause mid-sentence to yawn widely and a couple of sentences later - there you are yawning. You are talking on the 'phone and the person at the other end yawns in your ear - what a rude person - then a couple of seconds later, you yawn in their ear - another rude person.
As a yawn is caught by people talking to each other, looking at someone from across a room, driving around town, talking on a 'phone, yawns are spread from person to person, from room to room, from building to building, from house to house, from city to city and from country to country, even across an ocean.
Is it necessary to either hear or see a yawn before you can catch it? Face to face, 'phones, tapes and movies all spread yawns - but what happens if someone is talking about a yawn in a book, an e-mail, a letter or, say, a blog? Are these forms of communication just as likely to spread yawns?
I don't think that any scientific research has as yet been conducted in this highly fascinating area of the mind and body, but if you started yawning as you read this, then drop me a comment and let me know.
Maybe this will start a new craze for yawn spreading on the Internet. Maybe in a month or so you will be looking something up on the Internet and clicking on a promising looking website, a maintenance page comes up on your screen: "Warning! Highly Contagious! This website has been closed due to yawns. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible."
Maybe. Or maybe not. Excuse me, I need to yawn.
Do we yawn when other people yawn to keep them company? Do we think that they will be lonely if we don't yawn as well? Are we trying to start up a new craze for Yawn Symphonies? Is it because we are actually tired, so seeing someone else yawn makes our bodies more aware of it? Is it because we are a race of compulsive imitators? As soon as we see someone doing something that we aren't doing, we have to join in, we can't bear to be left behind!
For whatever reason, the fact remains that yawns are contagious. You see someone on the other side of the room cover their mouth and yawn and immediately your throat starts to tighten and lo and behold, in a few moments time, a yawn pops out of your mouth. You are talking to someone and they pause mid-sentence to yawn widely and a couple of sentences later - there you are yawning. You are talking on the 'phone and the person at the other end yawns in your ear - what a rude person - then a couple of seconds later, you yawn in their ear - another rude person.
As a yawn is caught by people talking to each other, looking at someone from across a room, driving around town, talking on a 'phone, yawns are spread from person to person, from room to room, from building to building, from house to house, from city to city and from country to country, even across an ocean.
Is it necessary to either hear or see a yawn before you can catch it? Face to face, 'phones, tapes and movies all spread yawns - but what happens if someone is talking about a yawn in a book, an e-mail, a letter or, say, a blog? Are these forms of communication just as likely to spread yawns?
I don't think that any scientific research has as yet been conducted in this highly fascinating area of the mind and body, but if you started yawning as you read this, then drop me a comment and let me know.
Maybe this will start a new craze for yawn spreading on the Internet. Maybe in a month or so you will be looking something up on the Internet and clicking on a promising looking website, a maintenance page comes up on your screen: "Warning! Highly Contagious! This website has been closed due to yawns. Normal service will be resumed as soon as possible."
Maybe. Or maybe not. Excuse me, I need to yawn.
Friday, June 1, 2007
An Interview - The Inside Story
You wake up in the morning and the vague stirrings in your stomach, which have been there ever since you got a date for The Interview, have overnight exploded into millions of energetic young butterflies that are performing vigorous Scottish reels right in the middle of your tummy.
After swallowing down something that on any other morning would have been called breakfast, you try - emphasis on TRY - to do a morning's work. This procedure is somewhat hampered by frequent checkings of your e-mail just to reassure yourself that The Interview hasn't been cancelled. Checking your watch every two seconds once you only have two and a half hours to go further impedes your productivity for the morning.
At one and a half hours before The Time, you get worried that you won't have enough time to eat lunch, clean your teeth and get to The Interview on time.
Lunch is eaten, teeth are brushed, shoes are on, coat is on, handbag is collected, keys are picked up. You get in the car and your hands fumble clumsily with the seat belt and gear stick. You listen to your favourite music as loud as you dare, the hope that this will drown out the butterflies in your stomach and the jittering in your head floating vaguely in the background. This doesn't seem to work very well, but two Police cars and an Ambulance , all with flashing lights and wailing sirens do help to break up the noise of the blood vessels pounding in your head.
By this time you are wondering why women give up staying safely at home and actually choose by their own free will to enter into the World Of Interviews.
Walking up the road from the car, you are positive that everyone else in the radius of five miles can hear your heart beating. Someone stops to talk to you just as you reach The Destination and you mutter something that they kindly let pass for a reply, while you fight hard to keep your eyes from straying to your watch. You're on time, but you're sure you must be late.
You don't have enough confidence to look The Interviewer in the eye, when offered a chair you perch apprehensively on the edge of it, clasping your hands nervously and when a joke is presented to you, you look at it with glazed eyes and try laughing. The laugh comes out something between a choke and a yap. Thankfully, no one seems to have noticed.
Nervousness has now just started to ease off and the relief this causes sends a rush of blood to the brain. When asked why you applied for The Job you find yourself thinking that that is a very good question - Why DID you apply for The Job? Next you start mixing your words up and your sentences come out the wrong way. You hope fervently that the sudden return of your childhood lisp is not permanent. The crowning moment comes when you knock two years off your actual age.
And some people claim that rushes of blood to the brain are when they come up with their brightest ideas.
The Interviewers are satisfied. The weak and wobbly feeling you get after a rush of adrenaline is slowly taking control of limb after limb. You just about manage to make it from The Destination to your car without walking into a lampost.
The combined effect of loss of nervousness and the inevitable knowledge of waiting an indefinable length of time for the outcome of The Interview hasn't yet been given a scientific name.
The feeling half way between depression and extreme tiredness which takes control of you the evening after The Interview is generally called A Mood.
After swallowing down something that on any other morning would have been called breakfast, you try - emphasis on TRY - to do a morning's work. This procedure is somewhat hampered by frequent checkings of your e-mail just to reassure yourself that The Interview hasn't been cancelled. Checking your watch every two seconds once you only have two and a half hours to go further impedes your productivity for the morning.
At one and a half hours before The Time, you get worried that you won't have enough time to eat lunch, clean your teeth and get to The Interview on time.
Lunch is eaten, teeth are brushed, shoes are on, coat is on, handbag is collected, keys are picked up. You get in the car and your hands fumble clumsily with the seat belt and gear stick. You listen to your favourite music as loud as you dare, the hope that this will drown out the butterflies in your stomach and the jittering in your head floating vaguely in the background. This doesn't seem to work very well, but two Police cars and an Ambulance , all with flashing lights and wailing sirens do help to break up the noise of the blood vessels pounding in your head.
By this time you are wondering why women give up staying safely at home and actually choose by their own free will to enter into the World Of Interviews.
Walking up the road from the car, you are positive that everyone else in the radius of five miles can hear your heart beating. Someone stops to talk to you just as you reach The Destination and you mutter something that they kindly let pass for a reply, while you fight hard to keep your eyes from straying to your watch. You're on time, but you're sure you must be late.
You don't have enough confidence to look The Interviewer in the eye, when offered a chair you perch apprehensively on the edge of it, clasping your hands nervously and when a joke is presented to you, you look at it with glazed eyes and try laughing. The laugh comes out something between a choke and a yap. Thankfully, no one seems to have noticed.
Nervousness has now just started to ease off and the relief this causes sends a rush of blood to the brain. When asked why you applied for The Job you find yourself thinking that that is a very good question - Why DID you apply for The Job? Next you start mixing your words up and your sentences come out the wrong way. You hope fervently that the sudden return of your childhood lisp is not permanent. The crowning moment comes when you knock two years off your actual age.
And some people claim that rushes of blood to the brain are when they come up with their brightest ideas.
The Interviewers are satisfied. The weak and wobbly feeling you get after a rush of adrenaline is slowly taking control of limb after limb. You just about manage to make it from The Destination to your car without walking into a lampost.
The combined effect of loss of nervousness and the inevitable knowledge of waiting an indefinable length of time for the outcome of The Interview hasn't yet been given a scientific name.
The feeling half way between depression and extreme tiredness which takes control of you the evening after The Interview is generally called A Mood.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)