Can you tell me who made you?” the pastor asked the small boy. The Youngster thought a moment. Then he looked up at the pastor and said, “God made part of me.” “What do you mean, part of you?” asked the pastor. “Well,” answered the boy, “God made me little. I grew the rest myself.” Growing the rest is a lifetime job for everyone.
A young lady named Sally, relates an experience she had in a Seminary Class, given by her teacher, Dr. Smith. She says Dr. Smith was known for his elaborate object lessons. One particular day, Sally walked into the seminary and knew they were in for a fun day. On the wall was a big target and on a nearby table were many darts. Dr. Smith told the students to draw a picture of someone that they disliked or someone who had made them angry, and he would allow them to throw darts at the person’s picture. Sally’s girlfriend drew a...
A wise and understanding heart does not repay a hurt with a hurt. In doing so, the heart is diminished. Fissures form. Love leaks out. Every pain given in return for one received, changes the contents of the heart. It is no longer defined by love, wisdom and understanding. It is redefined by the bearers of hurt and hate, pain and prejudice, meanness and madness, sorrow and sadness. You give away control of your very own heart. The despair of being hurt is healed by overcoming it, not clinging to the hurt and inflicting more of it on the world....
It was the day before Thanksgiving the first one my three children and I would be spending without their father, who had left several months before. Now the two older children were very sick with the flu, and the eldest had just been prescribed bed rest for a week. It was a cool, gray day outside, and a light rain was falling. I grew wearier as I scurried around, trying to care for each child: thermometers, juice, diapers. And I was fast running out of liquids for the children. But when I checked my purse, all I found was...
Sometimes I ask the question, “My Lord, is this your will?” It’s then I hear you answer me, “My Precious Child… be still.” Sometimes I feel frustrated, cause I think I know what’s best. It’s then I hear you say to me, “My Busy Child… just rest!” Sometimes I feel so lonely and I think I’d like a mate. Your still small voice gets oh so clear and says, “My Child… please wait!” “I know the plans I have for you, the wondrous things you’ll see; If you can just be patient, Child, and put your trust in me. I’ve...
