Page 2 of 66 FirstFirst 12341252 ... LastLast
Results 16 to 30 of 978

Thread: Our Daily Inspirations

  1. #16
    Join Date
    Apr 2003
    Location
    USA
    Posts
    118
    I like this thread...so...here is mine!

    Daddy's Day at School

    Her hair was up in a ponytail
    Her favorite dress tied with a bow.
    Today was Daddy's Day at school,
    And she couldn't wait to go.

    But her mommy tried to tell her,
    That she probably should stay home.
    Why the kids might not understand,
    If she went to school alone.

    But she was not afraid;
    She knew just what to say.
    What to tell her classmates
    Of why he wasn't there today.

    But still her mother worried,
    For her to face this day alone.
    And that was why once again,
    She tried to keep her daughter home.

    But the little girl went to school,
    Eager to tell them all.
    About a dad she never sees
    A dad who never calls.

    There were daddies along the wall in the back,
    For everyone to meet.
    Children squirming impatiently,
    Anxious in their seats.

    One by one the teacher called,
    A student from the class.
    To introduce their daddy,
    As seconds slowly passed.

    At last the teacher called her name,
    Every child turned to stare.
    Each of them was searching,
    For a man who wasn't there.

    "Where's her daddy at?"
    She heard a boy call out.
    "She probably doesn't have one,"
    Another student dared to shout.

    And from somewhere near the back,
    She heard a daddy say,
    "Looks like another deadbeat dad,
    Too busy to waste his day."

    The words did not offend her,
    As she smiled up at her Mom.
    And looked back at her teacher,
    Who told her to go on.

    And with hands behind her back,
    Slowly she began to speak.
    And out from the mouth of a child,
    Came words incredibly unique.

    "My Daddy couldn't be here,
    Because he lives so far away.
    But I know he wishes he could be,
    Since this is such a special day.

    And though you cannot meet him,
    I wanted you to know.
    All about my daddy,
    And how much he loves me so.

    He loved to tell me stories
    He taught me to ride my bike.
    He surprised me with pink roses,
    And taught me to fly a kite.

    We used to share fudge sundaes,
    And ice cream in a cone.
    And though you cannot see him,
    I'm not standing here alone.

    Cause my daddy's always with me,
    Even though we are apart
    I know because he told me,
    He'll forever be in my heart"

    With that, her little hand reached up,
    And lay across her chest.
    Feeling her own heartbeat,
    Beneath her favorite dress.

    And from somewhere in the crowd of dads,
    Her mother stood in tears.
    Proudly watching her daughter,
    Who was wise beyond her years.

    For she stood up for the love
    Of a man not in her life.
    Doing what was best for her,
    Doing what was right.

    And when she dropped her hand back down,
    Staring straight into the crowd.
    She finished with a voice so soft,
    But its message clear and loud.

    "I love my daddy very much,
    He's my shining star.
    And if he could, he'd be here,
    But heaven's just too far.

    You see he was a fireman
    And died just this past year
    When airplanes hit the towers
    And taught Americans to fear.

    But sometimes when I close my eyes,
    It's like he never went away."
    And then she closed her eyes,
    And saw him there that day.

    And to her mother's amazement,
    She witnessed with surprise.
    A room full of daddies and children,
    All starting to close their eyes.

    Who knows what they saw before them,
    Who knows what they felt inside.
    Perhaps for merely a second,
    They saw him at her side.

    "I know you're with me Daddy,"
    To the silence she called out.
    And what happened next made believers,
    Of those once filled with doubt.

    Not one in that room could explain it,
    For each of their eyes had been closed.
    But there on the desk beside her,
    Was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.

    And a child was blessed, if only for a moment,
    By the love of her shining bright star.
    And given the gift of believing,
    That heaven is never too far.

    They say it takes a minute to find a special person,
    an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them,
    but then an entire life to forget them.


    Take the time...to live and love. Until eternity.

    I hope all of us will learn to appreciate everyone around us...especially our love ones...! We can easily take them for granted! Hmmm... maybe b4 we go to bed each night, we should ask ourselves "did i take anyone for granted today?"

    God bless.
    Last edited by sky; 11-10-2003 at 09:36 PM.

  2. #17
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    "Don't walk behind me, I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me, I may
    not follow. Just walk beside me and be my friend."

    ~ Albert Camus

    *******************************************

    "Kind words can be short and easy to speak, but their echoes are truly endless."

    ~ Mother Teresa
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  3. #18
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    A True Story.

    During the waning years of the depression in a small southeastern Idaho community, I used to stop by Mr. Miller's roadside stand for farm-fresh produce as the season made it available. Food and money were still extremely scarce and bartering was used, extensively. One particular day Mr. Miller was bagging some early potatoes for me. I noticed a small boy, delicate of bone and feature, ragged but clean, hungrily appraising a basket of freshly picked green peas. I paid for my potatoes but was also drawn to the display of fresh green peas. I am a pushover for creamed peas and new potatoes. Pondering the peas, I couldn't help overhearing the conversation between Mr. Miller and the ragged boy next to me.

    "Hello Barry, how are you today?"

    "H'lo, Mr. Miller. Fine, thank ya. Jus' admirin' them peas ...sure look good."

    "They are good, Barry. How's your Ma?"

    "Fine. Gittin' stronger alla' time."

    "Good. Anything I can help you with?" "No, Sir. Jus' admirin' them peas."

    "Would you like to take some home?"

    "No, Sir. Got nuthin' to pay for 'em with."

    "Well, what have you to trade me for some of those peas?"

    "All I got's my prize marble here."

    Is that right? Let me see it."

    "Here 'tis. She's a dandy."

    "I can see that. Hmmmm, only thing is this one is blue and I sort of go for red. Do you have a red one like this at home?"

    "Not 'zackley .....but, almost."

    "Tell you what. Take this sack of peas home with you and next trip this way let me look at that red marble."

    "Sure will. Thanks, Mr. Miller."

    Mrs. Miller, who had been standing nearby, came over to help me. With a smile she said: "There are two other boys like him in our community, all three are in very poor circumstances. Jim just loves to bargain with them for peas, apples, tomatoes or whatever. When they come back with their red marbles, and they always do, he decides he doesn't like red after all and he sends them home with a bag of produce for a green marble or an orange one, perhaps."

    I left the stand, smiling to myself, impressed with this man. A short time later I moved to Colorado but I never forgot the story of this man, the boys and their bartering. Several years went by each more rapid than the previous one. Just recently I had occasion to visit some old friends in that Idaho community and while I was there learned that Mr. Miller had died. They were having his viewing that evening and knowing my friends wanted to go, I agreed to accompany them. Upon our arrival at the mortuary we fell into line to meet the relatives of the deceased and to offer whatever words of comfort we could.

    Ahead of us in line were three young men. One was in an army uniform and the other two wore nice haircuts, dark suits and white shirts ... very professional looking. They approached Mrs. Miller, standing smiling and composed, by her husband's casket. Each of the young men hugged her, kissed her on the cheek, spoke briefly with her and moved on to the casket. Her misty light blue eyes followed them as, one by one, each young man stopped briefly and placed his own warm hand over the cold pale hand in the casket. Each left the mortuary, awkwardly, wiping his eyes.

    Our turn came to meet Mrs. Miller. I told her who I was and mentioned the story she had told me about the marbles. Eyes glistening she took my hand and led me to the casket. "Those three young men, who just left, were the boys I told you about. They just told me how they appreciated the things Jim "traded" them. Now, at last, when Jim could not change his mind about color or size... they came to pay their debt. "We've never had a great deal of the wealth of this world," she confided, "but, right now, Jim would consider himself the richest man in Idaho."

    With loving gentleness she lifted the lifeless fingers of her deceased husband. Resting underneath were three, magnificently shiny, red marbles.

    Moral: We will not be remembered by our words, but by our kind deeds. Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.



    ~ Author Unknown ~
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  4. #19
    Join Date
    Mar 2003
    Location
    usj2, ex usj6, now: not in m'sia
    Posts
    428
    i am always touched by this type of stories *sob* and i'm typing this reply with tears in my eyes... wonderful, ain't it.... if only all of us can contribute somehow, someway to others...
    oł est l'amour?
    An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind

  5. #20
    Join Date
    Sep 2003
    Location
    two feet beside my self.
    Posts
    91
    this isn't particularly poetic or inspiring, but something about how pure and true it is has always struck a cord with me.

    "sh*t happens."

    have a poster i made on the ceiling so its the first thing i see every morning. works great when i need to put things in perspective.

    edit: another line to add that's extremely common, but true: "it can always get worse".
    Last edited by left side hung; 15-10-2003 at 01:54 AM.

  6. #21
    Join Date
    Sep 2003
    Location
    Sunway
    Posts
    11
    sob~~ its all touching..
    Streamyx, sux.

  7. #22
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    1. "An eye for and eye makes the whole world blind."

    2. "Power is of two kinds. One is obtained by the fear of punishment and the other by acts of love. Power based on love is a thousand times more effective and permanent then the one derived from fear of punishment."

    (Our education minister should read this, I think)

    3. Gandhi was once asked what he thought about western civilization. His response was: "I think it would be a good idea."

    ~ Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  8. #23
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    "If it is not Manchester United, it is not football.
    Ha Ha Ha!! Ha Ha Ha!! He He He!! He He He!!"

    ~ ManU Fans!!
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  9. #24
    Join Date
    Apr 2003
    Location
    USJ 3
    Posts
    731
    Fool me once - shame on you!
    Fool me twice - shame on me!



    If we cannot find a way, we will make one!

    - Hannibal Barca

  10. #25
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    A Change of Heart
    by Bob Perks © 2001



    It's the world we live in that made me feel that way. Otherwise I wouldn't have thought for a moment about sitting next to that beautiful young girl.

    My recent trip to Kentucky ran smoothly except for a near two hour delay in Pittsburgh. I must admit I have never had a major problem while flying across this great country. In fact, I believe this was the first time I have ever experienced a delay that long.

    But I always tell my travel agent that if ever I need to be delayed let it be in Pittsburgh. They have the greatest shops and restaurants to keep me busy for hours.

    They finally announced boarding. Now I don't believe for a moment that I'm the only person who goes through this. From the moment I enter the plane I start scanning ahead to see my seat. "Who's sitting next to me on this flight?" I wonder. "Is there anyone in my seat already?" That's happened a few times. "Are there any screaming babies nearby?"

    Flight time is precious time for me. I sleep, write or read. So screaming babies and frequent bathroom people become a problem.

    Today I get to sit next to a beautiful young girl who appears to be about 12 years old. As I approach my seat she seems nervous, perhaps a little apprehensive and I must say very disappointed. You see walking in front of me was this handsome young male teenager. I could see that sparkle in her eye dim as he walked by and I sat down. I'll admit I was nervous and concerned. She was traveling alone and I was one of those strangers her parents told her not to talk to.

    "Hi! My name is Bob," I said.

    "Hello!" she replied without giving her name.

    Then we spent the next one hour and fifteen minutes not saying a word.

    She was a typical kid. She never sat still for longer than five minutes. Often times she reached into her carry on and pulled out what appeared to be six brushes, four packs of gum and all the empty wrappers, a bag filled with jaw breakers, a tube of rainbow colored sugar crystals and three foot long licorice. Oh, yes she also ate two bags of airplane peanuts. I gave her mine.

    It wasn't until the last 15 minutes of the flight that I heard it. That sweet sounding Voice that said "Give her one of your books!"

    "She's only 12," I argued. "She won't find my book interesting. Do they even know how to read at 12?" I thought sarcastically.

    But again and again I heard it repeat, "Give her one of your books!" And so I opened one up, signed it and said, "I am a professional speaker and author. I'd like to give you one of my books if you would permit me."

    She giggled a bit and said yes followed by "Oh, thanks!"

    I then began to explain the story.

    "It's a fictional story based on actual events. I changed the names but basically much of this is true. My oldest son, Keith had cancer and that's part of this book."

    "Oh, I'm sorry", she said. "No need to be. He's doing just fine, thank you. Where are you from?" I asked.

    Then for the next ten minutes this young lady never stopped talking. In fact, as we were leaving the plane she talked and walked backwards down the aisle.

    Much of what she said was all a blur for me after she said these words: "Wow, I just saw the Hershey Medical Center mentioned in there. Is that where your son went for his cancer treatments?" she asked.

    I nodded "Yes."

    "That's where I had my heart transplant," she said with a big smile.

    Heart transplant. This child had a heart transplant. Then I took notice. Right at the top of her pink t-shirt, just below her collar bone, the beginnings of a scar peeked over her collar. This vibrant young, beautiful girl had the heart of a donor. Obviously a young donor who lived in a family who cared enough to save another child's life.

    She continued to share the details of her stay at Hershey. I continued to listen in amazement. For the story she told was a familiar one. She was the girl down the hall we all prayed for. I never knew how things turned out for her until today.

    They say some lives cross because they were meant to. This was more than a chance meeting. I discovered that this child leaving Pittsburgh to go home to Kentucky was a patient in the same hospital, on the same miraculous floor, at the same time my son was there. That little Voice inside of me kept telling me to give her a copy of my book. I argued. The Voice won...as always.

    The last words she said to me was..."My Mom always told me that God was going to call me home but then He had a "Change of Heart!" Do you get it?" Then she giggled and laughed as she walked through the last door into the arms of her loving family.

    I got it. I heard the Voice say, "Now you know why!"

    "I believe in you!"
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  11. #26
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    Ugly The Tomcat


    Everyone in the apartment complex I lived in knew who Ugly was. Ugly was the resident tomcat. Ugly loved three things in this world: fighting, eating garbage, and, shall we say, love.

    The combination of these things combined with a life spent outside had their effect on Ugly. To start with, he had only one eye and where the other should have been was a hole. He was also missing his ear on the same side, his left foot appeared to have been badly broken at one time, and had healed at an unnatural angle, making him look like he was always turning the corner.

    Ugly would have been a dark gray tabby, striped type, except for the sores covering his head, neck, and even his shoulders.

    Every time someone saw Ugly there was the same reaction. "That's one UGLY cat!!!"

    All the children were warned not to touch him, the adults threw rocks at him, hosed him down, squirted him when he tried to come in their homes, or shut his paws in the door when he would not leave. Ugly always had the same reaction.

    If you turned the hose on him, he would stand there, getting soaked until you gave up and quit. If you threw things at him, he would curl his lanky body around your feet in forgiveness.

    Whenever he spied children, he would come running, meowing frantically and bump his head against their hands, begging for their love.

    If you ever picked him up he would immediately begin suckling on your shirt, earrings, whatever he could find.

    One day Ugly shared his love with the neighbor's dogs. They did not respond kindly, and Ugly was badly mauled. I tried to rush to his aid. By the time I got to where he was laying, it was apparent Ugly's sad life was almost at an end.

    As I picked him up and tried to carry him home, I could hear him wheezing and gasping, and could feel him struggling. It must be hurting him terribly, I thought.

    Then I felt a familiar tugging, sucking sensation on my ear. Ugly, in so much pain, suffering and obviously dying, was trying to suckle my ear. I pulled him closer to me, and he bumped the palm of my hand with his head, then he turned his one golden eye towards me, and I could hear the distinct sound of purring.

    Even in the greatest pain, that ugly battled scarred cat was asking only for a little affection, perhaps some compassion.

    At that moment I thought Ugly was the most beautiful, loving creature I had ever seen. Never once did he try to bite or scratch me, try to get away from me, or struggle in any way. Ugly just looked up at me completely trusting in me to relieve his pain.

    Ugly died in my arms before I could get inside, but I sat and held him for a long time afterwards, thinking about how one scarred, deformed little stray could so alter my opinion about what it means to have true pureness of spirit, to love so totally and truly.

    Ugly taught me more about giving and compassion than a thousand books, lectures, or talk show specials ever could, and for that I will always be thankful. He had been scarred on the outside, but I was scarred on the inside, and it was time for me to move on and learn to love truly and deeply. To give my total to those I cared for.

    Many people want to be richer, more successful, well liked, beautiful, but for me...

    I will always try to be Ugly.



    ~ Author Unknown ~
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  12. #27
    Join Date
    Apr 2003
    Location
    USJ 3
    Posts
    731
    Some of the people we often take for granted are our parents. Often we cannot find time for them. Whenever they call us on the telephone, we would rush through the conversation as if they are imposing on us. It is often not till they are gone that we find that we finally missed them. We have this thing we should have said. This activity that we should have done if we have not all been too busy with our own lives. I still have both my parents and I intend to spend as much of my leisure time with them as possible.

  13. #28
    Join Date
    Nov 2000
    Location
    N03° 04' 20.00 E101° 30' 40.00
    Posts
    757
    Joe,

    The song "Living Years" by Mike & The Mechanics best described what you just said.

    Every generation blames the one before
    And all of their frustrations
    Come beating on your door
    I know that I'm a prisoner
    To all my father held so dear
    I know that I'm a hostage
    To all his hopes and fears
    I just wish I could have told him
    In the living years
    More crumpled bits of paper
    Filled with imperfect thought
    Stilted conversations
    I'm afraid that's all we've got
    You say you just don't see it
    He says it's perfect sense
    You just can't get agreement
    In this present tense
    We all talk a different language
    Talking in defence
    CHORUS
    Say it loud
    Say it clear
    You can listen as well as you hear
    It's too late when we die
    To admit we don't see eye to eye
    So we open up a quarrel
    Between the present and the past
    We only sacrifice the future
    It's the bitterness that lasts
    So don't yield to the fortunes
    You sometimes see as fate
    It may have a new perspective
    On a different day
    And if you don't give up
    And don't give in
    You may just be O.K.
    CHORUS
    I wasn't there that morning
    When my father passed away
    I didn't get to tell him
    All the things I had to say
    I think I caught his spirit
    Later that same year
    I'm sure I heard his echo
    In my baby's new born tears
    I just wish I could have told him
    In the living years
    CHORUS

  14. #29
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    The Empty Easter Egg

    Jeremy was born with a twisted body and a slow mind. At the age of 12 he was still in second grade, seemingly unable to learn. His teacher, Doris Miller, often became exasperated with him. He would squirm in his seat, drool, and make grunting noises. At other times, he spoke clearly and distinctly, as if a spot of light had penetrated the darkness of his brain. Most of the time, however, Jeremy just irritated his teacher.

    One day she called his parents and asked them to come in for a consultation. As the Forresters entered the empty classroom, Doris said to them, "Jeremy really belongs in a special school. It isn't fair to him to be with younger children who don't have learning problems. Why, there is a five year gap between his age and that of the other students."

    Mrs. Forrester cried softly into a tissue, while her husband spoke. "Miss Miller," he said, "there is no school of that kind nearby. It would be a terrible shock for Jeremy if we had to take him out of this school. We know he really likes it here."



    Doris sat for a long time after they had left, staring at the snow outside the window. Its coldness seemed to seep into her soul. She wanted to sympathize with the Forresters. After all, their only child had a terminal illness. But it wasn't fair to keep him in her class. She had 18 other youngsters to teach, and Jeremy was a distraction. Furthermore, he would never learn to read and write. Why waste any more time trying?

    As she pondered the situation, guilt washed over her. Here I am she thought. Lord, please help me to be more patient with Jeremy. From that day on, she tried hard to ignore Jeremy's noises and his blank stares.

    Then one day, he limped to her desk, dragging his bad leg behind him. "I love you, Miss Miller," he exclaimed, loud enough for the whole class to hear. The other students snickered, and Doris' face turned red.

    She stammered, "Wh--why that's very nice, Jeremy. N--now please take your seat."

    Spring came, and the children talked excitedly about the coming of Easter. Doris told them the story of Jesus, and then to emphasize the idea of new life springing forth, she gave each of the children a large plastic egg.



    "Now," she said to them, "I want you to take this home and bring it back tomorrow with something inside that shows new life. Do you understand?"

    >"Yes, Miss Miller," the children responded enthusiastically --all except for Jeremy. He listened intently; his eyes never left her face. He did not even make his usual noises. Had he understood what she had said about Jesus' death and resurrection? Did he understand the assignment?

    Perhaps she should call his parents and explain the project to them. That evening, Doris' kitchen sink stopped up. She called the landlord and waited an hour for him to come by and unclog it. After that, she still had to shop for groceries, iron a blouse, and prepare a vocabulary test for the next day. She completely forgot about phoning Jeremy's parents.

    The next morning, 19 children came to school,laughing and talking as they placed their eggs in the large wicker basket on Miss Miller's desk. After they completed their math lesson, it was time to open the eggs.



    In the first egg, Doris found a flower.

    "Oh yes, a flower is certainly a sign of new life," she said. "When plants peek through the ground, we know that spring is here."

    A small girl in the first row waved her arm. "That's my egg, Miss Miller," she called out.

    The next egg contained a plastic butterfly, which looked very real. Doris held it up.

    "We all know that a caterpillar changes and grows into a beautiful butterfly. Yes, that's new life, too."

    Little Judy smiled proudly and said, "Miss Miller, that one is mine."

    Next, Doris found a rock with moss on it. She explained that moss, too, showed life.

    Billy spoke up from the back of the classroom, "My daddy helped me," he beamed.

    Then Doris opened the fourth egg. She gasped. The egg was empty.



    Surely it must be Jeremy's she thought, and of course, he did not understand her instructions. If only she had not forgotten to phone his parents. Because she did not want to embarrass him, she quietly set the egg aside and reached for another.

    Suddenly, Jeremy spoke up. "Miss Miller, aren't you going to talk about my egg?"

    Flustered, Doris replied, "But Jeremy, your egg is empty."

    He looked into her eyes and said softly, "Yes, but Jesus' tomb was empty, too."

    Time stopped. When she could speak again, Doris asked him, "Do you know why the tomb was empty?"

    "Oh, yes," Jeremy said, "Jesus was killed and put in there. Then His Father raised Him up."

    The recess bell rang. While the children excitedly ran out to the schoolyard, Doris cried. The cold inside her melted completely away.

    Three months later, Jeremy died. Those who paid their respects at the funeral home were surprised to see 19 eggs on top of his casket, all of them empty.



    ~ Author Unknown ~
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

  15. #30
    Join Date
    Aug 2001
    Location
    USJ 12
    Posts
    1,554
    During one of the many Reformation battles, a young soldier found himself and his army being soundly defeated by the enemy.

    He and his comrades hastily retreated from the battlefield in defeat, running away in fear of their very lives.

    The enemy gave chase. The young man ran hard and fast, full of fear and desperation, and soon found himself cut off from his comrades. The soldier eventually came upon a rocky ledge containing a cave.

    Knowing the enemy was close behind, and that he was exhausted from the chase, he chose to hide there. After he crawled in, he fell to his face in the darkness, desperately crying to God to save him and protect him from his enemies. He made a bargain with God. He promised that if God saved him, he would serve Him for the remainder of his days.

    When he looked up from his despairing plea for help, he saw a spider beginning to weave its web at the entrance to the cave.

    As he watched the delicate threads being slowly drawn across the mouth of the cave, the young soldier pondered its irony. He thought, "I asked God for protection and deliverance, and He sent me a spider instead. How can a spider save me?"

    His heart was hardened, knowing the enemy would soon discover his hiding place and kill him. Soon he did hear the sound of his enemies, who were now scouring the area looking for those in hiding.

    One soldier with a gun slowly walked up to the cave's entrance. As the young man crouched in the darkness, hoping to surprise the enemy in a last-minute desperate attempt to save his own life, he felt his heart pounding wildly out of control.

    As the enemy cautiously moved forward to enter the cave, he came upon the spider's web, which by now was completely strung across the opening. He backed away and called out to a comrade, "There can't be anyone in here. They would have had to break this spider's web to enter the cave. Let's move on."

    Years later, this young man, who made good his promise by
    becoming a preacher and evangelist, wrote about that ordeal.

    What he observed has stood by me in times of trouble, especially during those times when everything seemed impossible:

    "Where God is, a spider's web is as a stone wall.
    Where God is not, a stone wall is as a spider's web."


    ~ Author Unknown ~
    To Fly Like An Eagle
    You Cannot Think Like A Turkey

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •