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Saturday, August 18, 2007

Woman

By the time the Lord made woman, He was
into his sixth day of working overtime.

An angel appeared and said, "Why are
you spending so much time on this one?"
And the Lord answered, "Have you seen
my spec sheet on her? She has to be
completely washable, but not plastic,
have over 200 movable parts, all
replaceable and able to run on diet
coke and leftovers, have a lap that can
hold four children at one time, have
a kiss that can cure anything from a
scraped knee to a broken heart -and
she will do everything with only two
hands."

The angel was astounded at the
requirements. "Only two hands!?
No way! And that's just on the standard
model? That's too much work for one
day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."

But I won't," the Lord protested. "I am
so close to finishing this creation that
is so close to my own heart.

She already heals herself when she is
sick AND can work 18 hour days."

The angel moved closer and touched
the woman. "But you have made her so
soft, Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I
have also made her tough. You have
no idea what she can endure or
accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?", asked
the angel.

The Lord replied, "Not only will she
be able to think, she will be able to
reason and negotiate."

The angel then noticed something, and
reaching out, touched the woman's
cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a
leak in this model. I told you that you
were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected,
"that's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way
of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her
pain, her disappointment, her love,
her loneliness, her grief and her pride."

The angel was impressed. "You are a
genius, Lord. You thought of everything!
Woman is truly amazing."

And she is! Women have strengths
that amaze men.

They bear hardships and they carry
burdens, but they hold happiness, love
and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.
They sing when they want to cry. They
cry when they are happy and laugh
when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in.
They stand up to injustice. They don't
take "no" for an answer when they
believe there is a better solution.

They go without so their family can have.

They go to the doctor with a frightened
friend.

They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel
and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about a
birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.

They grieve at the loss of a family
member, yet they are strong when
they think there is no strength left.

They know that a hug and a kiss can
heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and
colors. They'll drive, fly, walk, run or
e-mail you to show how much they care
about you. The heart of a woman is
what makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love. They
have compassion and ideals. They give
moral support to their family and
friends. Women have vital things to
say and everything to give.

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE
FLAW IN WOMEN, IT IS THAT
THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.

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Monday, August 13, 2007

God Lives Under the Bed

I envy Kevin. My brother Kevin
thinks God lives under his bed.
At least that's what I heard him
say one night.

He was praying out loud in his

dark bedroom, and I stopped to
listen, 'Are you there, God?' he
said. 'Where are you? Oh, I see.
Under the bed...'

I giggled softly and tiptoed off
to my own room. Kevin's unique
perspectives are often a source of
amusement. But that night
something else lingered long after
the humor.

I realized for the first time the

very different world Kevin lives in.

He was born 30 years ago,

mentally disabled as a result of
difficulties during labor. Apart from
his size (he's 6-foot-2), there are
few ways in which he is an adult.

He reasons and communicates with
the capabilities of a 7-year-old,
and he always will. He will probably
always believe that God lives under
his bed, that Santa Claus is the one
who fills the space under our tree every
Christmas and that airplanes stay up
in the sky because angels carry them.

I remember wondering if Kevin

realizes he is different. Is he ever
dissatisfied with his monotonous
life?

Up before dawn each day, off to

work at a workshop for the disabled,
home to walk our cocker spaniel,
return to eat his favorite
macaroni-and-cheese for dinner,
and later to bed.

The only variation in the entire

scheme is laundry, when he hovers
excitedly over the washing machine
like a mother with her newborn child.

He does not seem dissatisfied.

He lopes out to the bus every
morning at 7:05, eager for a day
of simple work.

He wrings his hands excitedly
while the water boils on the stove
before dinner, and he stays up late
twice a week to gather our dirty
laundry for his next day's laundry
chores.

And Saturdays-oh, the bliss of

Saturdays! That's the day my Dad
takes Kevin to the airport to have
a soft drink, watch the planes land,
and speculate loudly on the destination
of each passenger inside. 'That one's
goin' to Chi-car-go!' Kevin shouts as
he claps his hands.

His anticipation is so great he

can hardly sleep on Friday nights.
And so goes his world of daily
rituals and weekend field trips.
He doesn't know what it means to
be discontent. His life is simple.

He will never know the entanglements
of wealth of power, and he does
not care what brand of clothing he
wears or what kind of food he eats.

His needs have always been met, and
he never worries that one day they
may not be.

His hands are diligent. Kevin is
never so happy as when he is working.
When he unloads the dishwasher or
vacuums the carpet, his heart is
completely in it.


He does not shrink from a job when

it is begun, and he does not leave a
job until it is finished. But when
his tasks are done, Kevin knows
how to relax.

He is not obsessed with his work

or the work of others.

His heart is pure.

He still believes everyone tells

the truth, promises must be kept,
and when you are wrong, you
apologize instead of argue.

Free from pride and unconcerned
with appearances, Kevin is not
afraid to cry when he is hurt, angry
or sorry. He is always transparent,
always sincere.

And he trusts God.

Not confined by intellectual

reasoning, when he comes to
Christ, he comes as a child.
Kevin seems to know God - to
really be friends with Him in a way
that is difficult for an 'educated'
person to grasp. God seems like
his closest companion.

In my moments of doubt and

frustrations with my Christianity
I envy the security Kevin has in
his simple faith. It is then that I
am most willing to admit that he
has some divine knowledge that rises
above my mortal questions.

It is then I realize that perhaps

he is not the one with the handicap .

I am.

My obligations, my fear, my pride,
my circumstances - they all become
disabilities when I do not trust
them to God's care .

Who knows if Kevin comprehends
things I can never learn? After all,
he has spent his whole life in that
kind of innocence, praying after dark
and soaking up the goodness and love
of God.

And one day, when the mysteries of

heaven are opened, and we are all
amazed at how close God really is to our
hearts, I'll realize that God heard the
simple prayers of a boy who
believed that God lived under his bed.

Kevin won't be surprised at all!

When you receive this, say a prayer.

That's all you have to do. This is powerful.

FRIENDS ARE ANGELS WHO LIFT US

TO OUR FEET WHEN OUR WINGS
HAVE TROUBLE REMEMBERING HOW
TO FLY

~Author Unknown~

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The Smell of Rain

A cold March wind danced around
the dead of night in Dallas as
the doctor walked into the hospital
room of Diana Blessing.

Still groggy from surgery, her
husband David held her hand.
That afternoon, complications
had forced Diana, only 24-weeks
pregnant, to undergo an emergency
cesarean to deliver the couple's
new daughter, Danae Lu Blessing.

At 12 inches long and weighing

only one pound and nine ounces,
they knew she was perilously
premature. Still, the doctor's
soft words dropped like bombs.
"I don't think she's going tomake
it," he said. "There's only a
10-percent chance she will live
through the night, and even then,
her future could be avery cruel one."

Numb with disbelief, David and

Diana listened as the doctor
described the devastating problems
Danae would likely face if she
survived. She would never walk;
she would never talk; she would
probably be blind; she would
certainly be prone to other
catastrophic conditions from
cerebral palsy to complete mental
retardation; and on and on.

"No! No!" was all Diana could say.

She and David with their 5 year-old
son Dustin, had dreamed of the day
they would become a family of four.

Now, in a matter of hours, that

dream was slipping away. "David
said that we needed to talk about
making funeral arrangements,"
Diana remembers, "I felt so bad for
him because he was doing everything,
trying to include me, but I just
couldn't listen." I said, "No, that
is not going to happen, no way!
I don't care what the doctors say.
Danae is not going to die! One day she
will be just fine, and she will be
coming home with us!"

Danae clung to life with the help of

every medical machine and marvel
her miniature body could endure
but as those first days passed, a new
agony set in for David and Diana.
Because Danae's underdeveloped
nervous system was essentially "raw,"
the lightest kiss or caress only
intensified her discomfort - so they
couldn't even cradle their tiny baby
girl against their chests. All they
could do was to pray that God would
stay close to their precious little girl.

As the weeks went by, she slowly

gained weight and strength. When
Danae turned two months old, her
parents were able to hold her.

Two months later, though doctors
continued to warn that her chances
of survival-much less living a normal
life-were next to zero, Danae went
home, just as her mother had predicted.

Five years later, Danae is a petite

but feisty young girl. She shows
no signs of any mental or physical
impairments. But this happy ending
is far from the end of her story.
One blistering summer afternoon,
Danae was sitting in her mother's lap
watching her brother's baseball team
practice. As always, Danae was
chattering non-stop with her mother.
Hugging her arms across her chest,
Danae asked, "Do you smell that?"

Detecting the approach of a

thunderstorm, Diana replied, "Yes, it
smells like rain." Still caught in the
moment, Danae shook her head,
patted her thin shoulders with her
small hands and loudly announced,
"No, it smells like Him. It smells like
God when you lay your head on His
chest."

Tears blurred Diana's eyes as Danae

then hopped down to play. Her
daughter's words confirmed what
the Blessing family had known all along.
During the first two months of life, when
her nerves were too sensitive for them
to touch her, God was holding Danae
on His chest, and it is His loving
scent that she remembers so well.

~A true story originally entitled

"Heaven Scent" from the book,
"Miracles In Our Midst~

Mountain Wings #7219

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Saturday, August 11, 2007

Bruised Apples

A few years ago a group of salesmen went to
a regional sales convention in Chicago.
They had assured their wives that they
would be home in plenty of time for Friday
night's dinner.

Well, as such things go, one thing led to
another.

The sales manager went longer than anticipated
and the meeting ran overtime. Their flights
were scheduled to leave out of Chicago's
O'Hare Airport, and they had to race
frantically to the airport. With tickets in
hand, they barged through the terminal
to catch their flight back home.

In their rush, with tickets and brief cases,
one of these salesmen inadvertently kicked
over a table which held a display of baskets
of apples.

Apples flew everywhere.

Without stopping or looking back, they
all managed to reach the plane in time for
their nearly-missed boarding.

All but one.

He paused, took a deep breath, got in
touch with his feelings, and experienced a
twinge of compassion for the girl whose
applestand had been overturned.

He told his buddies to go on without him,
waved goodbye, told one of them to call
his wife when they arrived at their home
destination and explain his taking a later
flight. Then here turned to the terminal
where the apples were all over the terminal
floor.

He was glad he did. The 16 year old girl
was totally blind! She was softly crying,
tears running down her cheeks in frustration,
and at the same time helplessly groping for
her spilled produce as the crowd swirled
about her; no one stopping, and no one to
care for her plight.

The salesman knelt on the floor with her,
gathered up the apples, put them into the
baskets, and helped set the display up
once more.

As he did this he noticed that many of
them had become battered and bruised;
these he set aside in another basket.

When he had finished, he pulled out his
wallet and said to the girl, "Here, please
take this $20 for the damage we did.
Are you okay?" She nodded through
her tears. He continued on with,"I
hope we didn't spoil your day too badly."

As the salesman started to walk away,
the bewildered blind girl called out to him,
"Mister...."

He paused and turned to look back into
those blind eyes.

She continued, "Are you Jesus?"

He stopped in mid-stride, and he
wondered. Then slowly he made his
way to catch the later flight with that
question burning and bouncing about
in his soul:

"Are you Jesus?"

Do people mistake you for Jesus? That's
our destiny, is it not? To be so much like
Jesus that people cannot tell the difference
as we live and interact with a world
that is blind to His love, life and grace.

If we claim to know Him, we should live,
walk and act as He would. Knowing
Him is more than simply quoting Scripture
and going to church. It's Actually living
the Word as life unfolds day to day.

You are the apple of His eye even though
we, too, have been bruised by a fall.
He stopped what He was doing and picked
you and me up on a hill called Calvary
and paid in full for our damaged fruit.

Let's start living like we are worth the price
He paid.

~Author Unknown~

from Mountain Wings
#7211 Wings Over The Mountains of Life



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