tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-257208712024-03-07T19:57:56.809-07:00May's DayA collection of random thoughts and images from the life of a busy retired educator who is working at finding peace and restoration while trying to make the most of every day. R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.comBlogger708125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-87213492507820646202021-08-09T13:53:00.000-07:002021-08-09T13:53:05.453-07:00Around the Bend<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><i> "I don’t know what lies around the bend, but I’m going to believe that the best does. It has a fascination of its own, that bend... I wonder how the road beyond it goes—what there is of green glory and soft, checkered light and shadows—what new landscapes—what new beauties—what curves and hills and valleys further on.” ~ Anne of Green Gables ~ L. M. Montgomery</i></b></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqeuOxZq60kH0yf6LEJS2m_3t9QBwh-Ly7PPDUevdxkG_JkB1GZCeheHVKhFAXCTzrxqZ1ALnjKPmg3wglNBsrM2SFiglAa8DWnqzAiBzYL2X4OGbnWPaNZR5FJUyEeVoulfg/s2048/IMG_7686.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqeuOxZq60kH0yf6LEJS2m_3t9QBwh-Ly7PPDUevdxkG_JkB1GZCeheHVKhFAXCTzrxqZ1ALnjKPmg3wglNBsrM2SFiglAa8DWnqzAiBzYL2X4OGbnWPaNZR5FJUyEeVoulfg/s320/IMG_7686.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">I've spent much of the past few months saying "I don't know" about so many things. Not knowing things is not only frustrating, it can also keep you from moving ahead. Most of the time when I've had to say "I don't know" it's just been about a specific, limited thing--which is bad enough. But sometimes--this summer, for example--I've felt like I was in a boat on the Colorado River at Horseshoe Bend without a motor or oar. Getting nowhere and having no idea what lies around the bend.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Anne's quote put a different spin on the bend for me this morning. If you know Anne-with-an E, you know she is a glass half-full kind of person, someone who always looks at the positives in life. Reading these words--Lucy Maude Montgomery's really--I promised myself to make a better effort about going with the flow, not fighting the current, letting it take me where it will. This is not easy for me. I am a need-to-know kind of person. And yet I also love wandering--getting in the car and just going, following the many rabbit trails that cross our paths if they look like they might lead to something interesting. I guess it depends on what I need to know! Sometimes there is more delight in the surprise discovery around the bend than staying put, but in the know.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">There's a song that parallel's Anne's thoughts, although I don't think she was speaking about spiritual things necessarily. It fits, though:</span></p><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don't know what the future holds, but<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I know who holds the future.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Through it all God has made a way.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Days go by and how time flies,<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">seasons always changing.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Through it all God has made a way<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">to find eternity inside today.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don't know what the future holds </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">but I know who holds the future.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don't know what tomorrow brings </span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">but He brings it all together.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">All I know, this is love<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">and I can't get enough of Your love.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don't know, can't understand where it is all going.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">All my tears he's already cried.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">Because he lives, eternity is<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">another way of thinking.<br /></span><span style="font-family: georgia;">All I need He's already supplied.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></i></span></p>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-58219336170750325612021-08-04T07:28:00.003-07:002022-03-04T08:41:08.467-07:00They That Wait<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;">"But they that wait upon the </span><span class="small-caps" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; text-align: start;">Lord</span><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;"> shall renew their strength; </span></i></b></span><b style="font-family: georgia;"><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: start;">they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint." ~ Isaiah 40:31</span></i></b></p><p style="text-align: left;">I'm not very good at waiting. I always feel as if there was something better I could be doing with my time. And yet, I seem to have spent a lot of my life waiting. Growing up, I waited for my father. A lot. He was a school principal of each school I attended from 2nd to 12th grade. As such, he was my ride to and from school, and so I waited for him almost every day to finish his work (often a meeting) so he could take my sisters and me home. I knew he was doing something important, so I tried to wait patiently, but even though I got a lot of practice over the years, I never really got good at it. I always thought I could be doing something better, something more fun. We didn't have iPhones or tablets in those days, with games to amuse us, so unless I had a good book with me, there was nothing to be done but to wait.</p><p style="text-align: left;">During the summers after my academy graduation, I worked at our local hospital as a ward secretary where my main job was waiting. Waiting for the phone to ring, waiting for a visitor to ask for the room number of their friend or family member, waiting for a patient call light to come on, waiting for someone to need me to do something. It was during one of those summers that I read a John Milton sonnet where he said "They also serve who only stand and wait," and suddenly my job of waiting took on much more meaning, gathered around it a sense of importance. Waiting, being ready, was a service in and of itself!</p><p style="text-align: left;">Several years into my teaching career, I took a break. I quit my job and spent a year doing post-graduate work at the University of New Hampshire and then another year serving as <i>Au Pair</i> for my sister's two children while she and her husband were at work--teaching, as it happens. The two were ages 4 months and 3 years. I remember thinking more than once that I ought to be <i>doing</i> something instead of playing with the kids, reading to the kids, <i>waiting</i> for them to wake up from their naps, etc. It wasn't until I realized that merely being there for these two precious family members was what I was <i>supposed</i> to be doing. There truly was nothing better to be doing with my time than playing, reading, and waiting.</p><p style="text-align: left;">It took a long time--some might say an eternity--to find and marry my soul mate. He says the same thing. We were decades old by the time we got married. Our announcement on Facebook merely said "Finally." The post went viral--among our friends and students (present and former) at least! We both said it was worth the wait and that learning to be content while waiting was one of the best things we had learned in our lives before marriage. It wasn't always easy, to be sure, but it was worth it.</p><p style="text-align: left;">This summer has been one of waiting. Waiting on so. many. things. Waiting to find the right house. Waiting (and hoping) for the seller(s) to accept our offer(s). Waiting for the inspection to come through. Waiting for the appraisal to be done. Waiting for the buyer(s)'s response to our "Repair or Replace" request. Waiting for yet another "right" house to come up for sale. Not once, but 12 times more!!!!! They do say that the thirteenth time's a charm, right?! We've also had to wait for a job to come through for my husband. Waiting to find the right opportunity. Waiting for the call back after the first, second, and third interview. Waiting for paperwork to be read and signed. Waiting in line for so many things, I must surely be an expert on waiting by now!!!</p><p style="text-align: left;">Our realtor is a strong, positive Christian who went through this waiting time with us. He often had "bad news" to give us, but he also sent us positive, encouraging messages. Late one Friday afternoon in what turned out to be midway through the house hunting process, he simply wrote the above text from Isaiah. "They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength . . ." It seems as if we were always putting in offers about that time on a Friday. He'd send a text about sending off our offer and then we'd have to wait all through the Sabbath hours and sometimes until late Sunday or even mid-morning on Monday. We became quite practiced at waiting. It wasn't easy, but that Biblical reminder of the value--even the blessing--of waiting on God was key in helping us survive this long summer of waiting.</p><p style="text-align: left;">Today, the final pieces are falling into place for what will be our new home come August 25. My husband has an excellent job that he likes and the long summer of waiting is coming to a close. There were many times when I thought that my strength would fail me, my energy would run out, my mental exhaustion would overwhelm me, and that yes, I might even faint under the weight of the wait. But everything changes when you put it all in God's hands and wait on <i>Him</i> instead of everyone and everything else. It may not feel like it is going your way. But remember, God has His own timeline. He knows when the timing is right. We just have to be patient and wait to see how it all plays out. That is when you can look back and see how your strength and your faith had been renewed at every disappointment. They that wait will not regret it if they wait upon the Lord.</p>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-28378580914030733682021-01-04T18:07:00.005-07:002021-08-04T08:05:05.675-07:00And Is It True?<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?fbclid=IwAR0k6tlvwz89yKAgjW2kGRc6EZ7_aTUazREq5ePeLd0IToLj8I1bfqNakHI&v=AyZL9_To0_A&feature=youtu.be">And is it True?</a><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>The other night as my husband Tom and I were watching the “Cri de Comer” episode of The Crown season 3, we heard British Poet Laureate John Betjeman reading his “Jubilee Hymn” which was written to celebrate the Silver Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II, commemorating the 25th anniversary of her ascension to the throne in June 1977.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span>The above attached YouTube lets you hear him read it himself. </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span>Listening, I immediately thought of my favorite poem of Betjeman’s:</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span>his “Christmas.”</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span>I love the last three stanzas, and most especially the last two lines.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And is it true,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">This most tremendous tale of all,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Seen in a stained-glass window's hue,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">A Baby in an ox's stall ?</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The Maker of the stars and sea</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Become a Child on earth for me ?</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And is it true ? For if it is,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">No loving fingers tying strings</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Around those tissued fripperies,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">The sweet and silly Christmas things,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Bath salts and inexpensive scent</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And hideous tie so kindly meant,</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">No love that in a family dwells,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">No carolling in frosty air,</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Nor all the steeple-shaking bells</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Can with this single Truth compare -</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">That God was man in Palestine</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">And lives today in Bread and Wine.</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Those questions that start the 4th and 5th stanza hit home as I saw the numerous weekend church services that included Communion . I realized anew how appropriate it is that we consider not just the birth and the death of Christ at this season, but also the important third act of this Salvation Trilogy: His resurrection. Is it true that He became a Child and lived and died and lived again . . . for me? It is. He came for me. And you.</span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></p>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-83538301275981005562020-11-21T12:17:00.004-07:002020-11-21T12:17:46.392-07:00Perpetual Thanksgiving<p><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, .SFNSText-Regular, sans-serif" style="color: #050505;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>"I am grateful for what I am and have. My Thanksgiving is perpetual." ~ Henry David Thoreau</b></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijq3dJmoWOLwrIxfe4vqfpxwZUEtzuLWXKphuBmm9ZI7JdGcwXnnIBWuR4S-bWKQbslPARVQIuIsBkNZEppYHjoet2ue9Sl1HriZ1tNc80ueDd_Zype3eCXRVpswLOJ_jqlCc/s640/126851387_2776066315979288_2609330231723537133_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijq3dJmoWOLwrIxfe4vqfpxwZUEtzuLWXKphuBmm9ZI7JdGcwXnnIBWuR4S-bWKQbslPARVQIuIsBkNZEppYHjoet2ue9Sl1HriZ1tNc80ueDd_Zype3eCXRVpswLOJ_jqlCc/s320/126851387_2776066315979288_2609330231723537133_n.jpg" /></a></span></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">We stayed home from church today. The Virus and all. We're already on our second church service, this one my home church. The pastor is doing an activity with the children asking them to say what they are thankful for based off of the acronym GRACE. I'm playing along here:</span></span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>G</b> = God, grace, goodness, graciousness</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>R</b> = rest, road trips, root beer, Reynolds family, Rittenhouse family</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>A</b> = Aastrup family, apples, America, apple pie, abilities,</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>C</b> = cats, compassion, company, contentment, cookies, courage, Christmas, church</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #050505; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>E</b> = education, energy, encouragement, everlasting life, eternity, </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">One of the things I'm thankful about getting older is that I am more and more content with less and less. I am less critical of, and more patient with, myself and others. I am less demanding and more understanding of myself and others as well. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: georgia; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I am definitely grateful for all those who have journeyed with me, whether for a few steps, for the long haul, and for any amount of time in between.</span></p>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-90374110587953301732020-05-17T18:57:00.003-07:002020-05-17T18:57:52.956-07:00Because I'm Free<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaoL91tDCgHSVgy0hI4xtWPd3T2fcTjnAuP1i7QRzSXD0g9kkP4RjW8oLUzcuxFnRoJfrh4fEXDLjwYyl-C6iWTPn1nmP5gmcuufPp1xwHfAGpO-hEyxIE5WafqGFjXPOyH0/s1600/IMG_6031.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIaoL91tDCgHSVgy0hI4xtWPd3T2fcTjnAuP1i7QRzSXD0g9kkP4RjW8oLUzcuxFnRoJfrh4fEXDLjwYyl-C6iWTPn1nmP5gmcuufPp1xwHfAGpO-hEyxIE5WafqGFjXPOyH0/s320/IMG_6031.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Western Bluebird * South Rim * Grand Canyon</i></td></tr>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I sing because I'm happy, I sing because I'm free,<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">for His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">One of the songs on continuous loop in my head last week is truly an oldie but goody. Written more than 100 years ago, "His Eye is on the Sparrow" has been a source of encouragement to me during the stresses and strains of life many times over, but especially recently. Inspiration for the hymn came when Civilla Martin and her doctor husband visited Elmira, NY in the spring of 1905. There, they met and developed a friendship with a couple, Mr. and Mrs. Doolittle. The husband was a cripple who took himself to work in a wheel chair. The wife had been bedridden for nearly 20 years. And yet despite these trials and tribulations, they were supremely happy Christians who were an inspiration to their friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">One day while the Martins were visiting, Dr. Martin asked what was the secret to their hopeful optimism. Mrs. Doolittle's response revealed her great dependence on God and the comfort she and her husband drew from Him: "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me." "The beauty of this simple expression of boundless faith gripped the hearts and fired the imagination of Dr. Martin and me," says Mrs. Martin. The hymn was born out of this experience. The next day she mailed the poem to Charles Gabriel, who supplied the music. Singer Ethel Waters so loved this song that she used its name as the title for her autobiography. The Biblical passages the verses draw on come from Matthew 6 and Matthew 10:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Matthew Chapter 6:26<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Chapter 10:29-31:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">29 Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 30 But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">As I read about this song's history, I was even more inspired. My troubles may seem huge to me in the moment, but when I step back and put them in perspective, never mind put them in God's hands, they become very manageable:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Why should I feel discouraged?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Why should the shadows come?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Why should my heart be lonely<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and long for heaven and home?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">When Jesus is my portion?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">My constant friend is he:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">His eye is on the sparrow,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and I know he watches me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Refrain:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I sing because I'm happy,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I sing because I'm free,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">for his eye is on the sparrow,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and I know he watches me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">"Let not your heart be troubled,"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">his tender word I hear,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and resting on his goodness,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I lose my doubts and fears;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">though by the path he leadeth<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">but one step I may see:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">His eye is on the sparrow,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and I know he watches me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Whenever I am tempted,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">whenever clouds arise,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">when song gives place to sighing,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">when hope within me dies;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I draw the closer to him,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">from care he sets me free:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">His eye is on the sparrow,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">and I know he watches me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The part of the refrain that is most wonderful to me is the line that says "I sing because I'm free." I read a devotional last week about knowing the Truth and "the Truth shall set you free." That's the wonder of it all, that our God—the Truth—loves us so much, that He truly will set us free from all that worries or troubles us. Knowing this, w</span>hy<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> don't we sing more often? Knowing this, why don't we shout it from the rooftop? Knowing this, why are we ever discouraged? His eye is on the sparrow. And I know He watches me. What do you know?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-51484634603119558222020-05-14T20:27:00.002-07:002020-05-14T20:27:52.859-07:00Multi-tasking a Catastrophe?!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABQx105Ww86cQpXDIgv57M-ETR5sjSuZ1aTTjmGQSueXWAM9lBIeMpNTRCc8Bkj-iFdwrBzyiH5Qfsid3tibtQ1MSsIUPsW_35gHgwyHhbQbnZhik4XIqvGhyJZv1S4dZ-A8/s1600/IMG_7357.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgABQx105Ww86cQpXDIgv57M-ETR5sjSuZ1aTTjmGQSueXWAM9lBIeMpNTRCc8Bkj-iFdwrBzyiH5Qfsid3tibtQ1MSsIUPsW_35gHgwyHhbQbnZhik4XIqvGhyJZv1S4dZ-A8/s320/IMG_7357.jpeg" width="320" /></a>It seems our cat Sophie is concerned that we are trying to do too many things at once. Today, she apparently thought I shouldn't be trying to record scores in Jupiter at the same time I'm watching not one, but two webinars! Here's her solution, at least in part (at left). Of course she didn't realize that she was only adding to my distractions instead of decreasing them :) So it goes in my Life in the Time of Corona!<br />
<br />R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-25293931544387858242020-05-13T20:18:00.000-07:002020-05-13T20:18:57.013-07:00So Live, That . . .<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">“Every year the two most important days of your life go by.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">One is your birth day. The other is your death day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The one you know, and celebrate.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The other passes unbeknownst to you or anyone else.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">~ Mark Twain<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Ten years ago, I attended a memorial service for a friend I'd known for some two dozen years. She was a major figure in the international classical music world, a member of the Boston Symphony Orchestra for 30 years, a highly respected violin teacher, and a much beloved wife, mother, mentor, and friend. She passed away after a seven-year battle with cancer. A life-long Christian Scientist, she had a profound relationship with God that eclipsed that of many a professed Christian. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The memorial service was held in Jordan Hall at the New England Conservatory of Music. Dozens of musicians from all facets of her life presented a nearly three-hour long concert in tribute to their mentor, teacher, colleague, and friend. In between the musical pieces, friends, fellow musicians, and former teachers shared their memories of this amazing woman. As I sat there listening, I heard over and over mention of a life lived with passion and joy. All talked about her calling as a teacher, about the profound influence she had on their and others' lives, both musical and personal. I can't say I was jealous of all that was being said, but I certainly was inspired. My friend lived her life in the moment, and for the moment. She knew that each moment mattered, and she made certain it mattered for all she spent time with. She knew, in the end, that God's love made all the difference in the world, and she made sure to let everyone else know that too. It was amazing, in that mostly secular setting, to hear person after person talk about God's love as it shone through their friend and teacher's life. The final speaker, my friend's husband (a friend of even longer standing), talked about her peace and contentment, right up to the end of her life. She died, he said, without regret.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">On the 10<sup>th</sup> anniversary of this memorial service, my friend’s husband posted a follow-up on Facebook that received over 500 responses of comments and emojis. Reading those comments last week reminded me all over again of the wonder, the power, the necessity of a well-lived life and how the light of my friend’s influence has not dimmed one iota over the past ten years. The love for her was just as strong, the loss just as poignant. What a privilege to have known someone like that, and what an important reminder of the importance of how we live our lives!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Every year I like to share William Cullen Bryant's poem "Thanatopsis" with the juniors. Bryant was an American poet, Massachusetts born and raised, who first made his mark on the literary world in the early 1800s at the age of 17 with the publication of this meditation on death. A fairly long poem, it addresses the natural cycles of life, the importance of living that life so that when death comes along, there is no fear, no worry, only peace and contentment. I had to memorize the last nine lines of the poem when I was a junior in academy. I’ve never forgotten them. The words made an impact on me then, but I didn't realize at that age what they really meant until later. The words have been haunting me again since I read the Facebook post about that Sunday night ten years ago. It is no coincidence that Bryant and his poem are usually in my lesson plans towards the end of the school year. I need his reminder of the importance of living our life so well that when our time comes to leave this life, we can go peacefully, and with no regrets. And I like for that to be one of the last things I share with students before we separate for the summer—and with some, maybe, forever. Bryant put into words what my friend put into reality. Both challenge me to reexamine my own approach to life and live it to the fullest, and with confidence and joy. Here are those last nine lines of a profound poem written by a teenager two hundred and nine years ago (an amazing thing in and of itself):<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">So live, that when thy summons comes to join<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">The innumerable caravan which moves<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">To that mysterious realm, where each shall take<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">His chamber in the silent halls of death,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Another American writer, humorist Mark Twain, wrote a somber observation once that I quoted at the beginning of this devotional. Once you get over the cleverness of his statement, you have to admit its truth: we don't know the hour of our death. But according to Bryant, we should know the necessity of living our lives so that our day of death is not an issue of concern. We should be attentive to the way we live our life is and the quality of our relationship with God. It is always a timely message for me to be reminded of that. This time, the reminder was complimented with the reminder of that decades-ago experience in memory of my friend. She was able to show us all the way to so live our lives. She stood tall as an example of Paul meant when he wrote in 1 Corinthians 16: 13-14, “Keep your eyes open, hold tight to your convictions, give it all you’ve got, be resolute, and love without stopping (The Message).” My prayer is that we each so live our lives that if our time comes before Jesus does, we can go to our rest, ready for that great getting-up day when He returns to awaken those who rest in Him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-82520783417613453612020-05-12T20:16:00.006-07:002020-07-26T12:38:12.892-07:00Your Destiny, God's Plans<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">“Leave to thy God, to order and provide; in every change, He faithful will remain.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Katharina von Schlegal<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">It never fails. Or s</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">hould I say He never fails. Every time I think I have nowhere to turn, nowhere to go, that there is no one there for me, He comes to my rescue. Every time. Without fail. Every time, that is, that I remember to ask for His help. That’s the wonderful thing to me about God: that He never fails me. It’s also the curi</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">ous thing about me: that I often fail to ask Him to help me. You would think I’d learn. You would think I’d remember how good it is when I let Him lead. You would think I’d think!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">I suspect I’m not the only one living this paradox. In fact, I suspect that every one of us has been guilty of living it at one time or another. Maybe far too often, right?! Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m only human. A human still trying to find my way in a puzzling and frustrating world. A human too stubborn and proud to give myself over</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">to anyone or anything else, too jaded to trust completely, too wary to place myself entirely in anyone’s hand except—maybe— His. A human who does not want to worry about anything, but who isn’t quite ready to give up the luxury of worrying if it means giving up control of my life in the process. A human just like you, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">When I was getting ready to graduate from college, my mother gave me the most important advice she’s ever given me—and she’s given me a lot over the years. My mother is a wonderfully wise person, though, and I respect her enormously. When she tells me things, I pay attention, because she, too, has never failed me. Her advice has ranged from ways to deal with friends (when I was younger) to colleagues (now that I am older), from religion (when I was younger) to spirituality (now that I am older), from cooperation (when I was younger), to independence (now that I am older). She is the one who helped me make peace with myself as a t</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif; font-size: 12pt;">eenager, and she helped me make peace with God as a young adult. “Place your destiny in God’s hands,” she told me” and you will always be safe, you will always be secure. You will never have to worry.”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">She was right, you know. He has never failed me whenever I have consciously asked Him to take charge of my life, and even when I haven’t. He has always taken care of me whenever I’ve had the courage to place my life, my destiny, in His hands. And yet—for some reason, I don’t always immediately give my problems over to Him. I know from experience that all I have to do is ask. So, why is that so hard for me? I don’t even like to click he “help” button on my computer! And why am I not alone in this hesitance to trust? Don’t some of you have that same struggle? Perhaps it’s because we don’t always want to go where God takes us if we give ourselves over to Him. Or perhaps it’s not that we don’t want to go, but that we’re afraid to go, or afraid we won’t be able to do what He requires if we give Him our lives. Or perhaps we want what He wants, but are afraid others will make fun of us or won’t understand us for following His will instead of ours. Or perhaps we are less sure of Him than we are of ourselves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Let me tell you something—something I know for a certainty. You will never regret giving yourself over to God’s charge. Never. I never have, although I have often wondered just how things were going to work out. But without fail, when I’ve looked back, I’ve been able to see that whatever has happened, when I’ve placed my trust and my destiny in God’s hands unconditionally, it has been the right thing. Without fail. That’s an incredible statement, don’t you think? Even more incredible is to know it is not hyperbole. It’s true, I think, because God loves us unconditionally. And He has plans for us. Plans He hopes to put to use if only we ask and allow Him—to. He tells us in Jeremiah 29:11 “For I know the plans I have for you…plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">But how do we get to that place? How do we keep from worrying about our destiny and let it rest easily in His hand? Jesus suggests some very specific things to do with the time we might otherwise use up in worrying, and I’d like to recommend them to you today. He says to seek first His kingdom. That means to focus your attention on heaven before you do anything else. If you do that, all other things will fall into place. If you do that, you will be able to embrace His second suggestion. “Do not be afraid,” He says. If you are focused on Him and your heavenly future, you have nothing to fear for your earthly present. He will take care of you. He will not forsake you. Not only in the big things—like school plans and finances—but also in the little things, no matter how trivial they might seem. Third, He tells us “Do not worry for tomorrow, for tomorrow will take care of itself.” If your attention is on today, and you are living today for the kingdom, there is no need to worry about tomorrow. In fact, the kingdom is already yours for the believing, because the Father wants to give it to you. Jesus goes on to suggest that we not anchor ourselves with earthly possessions—or worries. He tells us to give them all up for what we will have in His kingdom. “For,” He says, “where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">I love the words to that wonderful hymn “Be Still my Soul.” They have empowered me over and over since I first read them and paid attention to their meaning:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Be still my Soul, the Lord is on thy side.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Leave to thy God, to order and provide;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">In every change, He faithful will remain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Be still my Soul, thy best, thy heavenly friend<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Be still my Soul, thy God doth undertake<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">to guide the future as He has the past.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">All now mysterious shall be bright at last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Be still, my Soul: the waves and winds still know<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Be still my Soul: the hour is hastening on<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">When we shall be forever with the Lord,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Sorrow forgot, love’s purest joys restored.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Be still, my Soul: when change and tears are past,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman", serif;">Today, I encourage you to give your life over to Jesus. Place your destiny and your plans fearlessly and confidently in the hands of your Best Friend. He will never fail you. Never.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-82944890712997571552020-05-11T19:44:00.003-07:002020-05-11T19:44:41.088-07:00Instruments of God's Peace<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHSe8qzHnzezf4mixmg9L06_8ats1gTocmqLRl75-qid2TSSg413UWDH63gVP9nC3enr0E4e2zlZF9nMGkLhcvRvbQGcQ7x28fvBDk73SaEr_ryjPwdn2UItPoF4PkAekvts/s1600/Screen+Shot+2020-05-11+at+7.41.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="1044" height="317" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVHSe8qzHnzezf4mixmg9L06_8ats1gTocmqLRl75-qid2TSSg413UWDH63gVP9nC3enr0E4e2zlZF9nMGkLhcvRvbQGcQ7x28fvBDk73SaEr_ryjPwdn2UItPoF4PkAekvts/s320/Screen+Shot+2020-05-11+at+7.41.43+PM.png" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Mooselookmeguntic Lake, Rangeley, Maine</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Some time ago, I watched a movie about a man I knew almost nothing about except that </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">he had written a prayer that has been beautifully set to music I have played and sung many times. I love the words, but even though I’d been to the place where the author lived and worked many years ago— I never knew the story behind them until I saw that movie. His home is as picturesque and peaceful a place as you might imagine, nestled in the rugged mountains of Italy. But it took watching the story of Giovanni Francesco Bernardone and simultaneously finding myself in a dark enough place to crave desperately what he’d written about, for me to understand what this priest, otherwise known as Francis of Assisi, meant when he wrote this prayer:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Lord, make me an instrument of Thy peace;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Where there is hatred, let me sow love;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Where there is injury, pardon;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Where there is doubt, faith;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Where there is despair, hope;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Where there is darkness, light;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And where there is sadness, joy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">O Divine Master, Grant that I may<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">not so much seek to be consoled as to console;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">To be understood, as to understand;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">To be loved, as to love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">For it is in giving that we receive,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">It is in pardoning that we are pardoned,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">It was more than 800 years ago that Francis penned those words. No doubt they </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">were meaningful words for him in his time. But I’d like to suggest to you that they are just as important– and necessary – for today’s Christian – today’s Seventh-day Adventist – in 2020.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Now, more than ever, we need to be understanding of each other, we need to be looking out for each other – whether it be while we are all at home, or when we are back at school, at work, or at church. With all the sadness and stress of the world around us, there has never been a greater need for peace – the peace of Jesus Christ. And there has never been a better place or time than right here, right now.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Jesus tells us in Matthew 5:9 that the peacemakers will be called the sons—and daughters—of God. George Herbert, a 17th century English poet and pastor, says that “Where there is peace, God is.” The question is, then, how do we become peacemakers, and thus bring God to the world? The answer lies, pretty plainly, in the words of St. Francis. At first glance, you might notice that St. Francis works in opposites; in lights and darks; in contrasts. He talks about hatred, injury, doubt, despair, darkness, and sadness. This is what we find in the world—a world without the love of Jesus. He then asks that God make him an instrument of peace—and through that instrument, allow Him to sow love, pardon, faith, hope, light, and joy—just the opposite of what exists in the world. This is what we are able to produce when God works together with us in the lives of others.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The second half of the poem centers on us – on our innermost selves – our needs and desires. God understands how easy it is for us as humans to get carried away with our own </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">turning of the good into bad. St. Francis felt that, too, and so he asked for personal help in humility, in directing his focus away</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">from himself and back to others. He asked for help in giving, with no thought for receiving. But the wonderful thing about</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">this is that when we give, the opposite occurs: we end up receiving more than we give. He reminds us that forgiveness is a</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">two-way street, a two-part process. When we forgive others, genuinely forgive them, it comes back on us as well. A forgiving</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">spirit earns forgiveness as well.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Then St. Francis shows us one more paradox, perhaps the most exciting and important one of all. He says, “it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.” Not only does the death of Christ on the Cross give us a way to Eternal Life, but when we die to self – not just through baptism, but in our daily lives as Christians – we are given new life, and we begin walking the pathway to Eternal Life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">As Christians, then, according to St. Francis, we need to negate the negative opposites in the world through cultivating the positive opposites in our lives. Easier said than done, but not impossible. The Bible gives us several examples of unlikely candidates for being His instruments of peace: Zacchaeus, Naaman, Esther, Saul among them. The fact is, only Jesus and His love can take a person filled with hatred and injury and use him or her as an instrument of His love and healing. Jesus did that with those we read about in the Bible. He can do it for each one of us today. Instead of bringing darkness to those </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">around us with criticism and unkind words, we can – as instruments of God’s peace – bring light – sowing loving words of encouragement and understanding. We can show faith in each other, act kindly towards one another at all times, and, yes, bring joy to each other.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">I encourage you to think of ways you can personally be an instrument of God’s peace right here, this very day. It is my prayer that you will take St. Francis’ prayer and make it your own. Then God can and will make you an instrument of His peace. And the world, this church community, will be a better place.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-80107294435629260222020-05-10T22:00:00.003-07:002020-11-21T12:20:26.429-07:00Clothed with Strength and Dignity<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-VChyQjwjj_FZsWQBPTqkR6lJd0LeYTTOm9EkgiA_Hg7lzYurwilVoP7MGuLGi4n2uPTcvJvsUzr6EIqB9asQiTZf2v9iVEMNqTMzPKjk5FNURDaX4reeqnid5k1BjZn9Rs/s1600/96668822_10218383580115618_6939305911991140352_n.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="929" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-VChyQjwjj_FZsWQBPTqkR6lJd0LeYTTOm9EkgiA_Hg7lzYurwilVoP7MGuLGi4n2uPTcvJvsUzr6EIqB9asQiTZf2v9iVEMNqTMzPKjk5FNURDaX4reeqnid5k1BjZn9Rs/s320/96668822_10218383580115618_6939305911991140352_n.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
This text perfectly describes my mother who has given me strength, shown dignity in all situations, laughed with my thousands of times over all kinds of situations and experiences. She has no fear for the future because she has place her hand firmly in God's. She is always wise and is still giving me instruction and showing me kindness. She is the epitome of motherhood. But she has also shown me how to be the quintessential professional. I had the privilege of working with her at New England Memorial Hospital/Boston Regional Hospital in my teens and early twenties. I learned so much from her about how to behave in the work place. What a blessing she's been in my life!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZgOcPJ_ndNdBdkAChlDjvuuOTZB8Sn0QXhAtPaV56e7NMo-t7goq8nnA1CWWffc9OrVeoxLqfn09p41nM294pp5ohaPloc4ShkiFDdU-J20hSkc1PNSjbfrDVdjbOyYr_BQ/s1600/IMG_6461.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbZgOcPJ_ndNdBdkAChlDjvuuOTZB8Sn0QXhAtPaV56e7NMo-t7goq8nnA1CWWffc9OrVeoxLqfn09p41nM294pp5ohaPloc4ShkiFDdU-J20hSkc1PNSjbfrDVdjbOyYr_BQ/s320/IMG_6461.jpeg" width="320" /></a>We took the picture together when she was here with us in January. We have the best time together! We have many of the same interests--in reading, in music, in gardening, in exploring and adventuring. There are no dull moments when she is around, that is for sure!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPNd3KcRjxc1hwGmt_N5qvsJcxbMbwMYqyJ4NnySreEdW5CgPVsGRtx8tSBIOil04_gTygn-Mtb4jJvF6f1fujqMpnKmqpUmYRfMpDy_hCx_S7rSoJV58ea6Z1qerqBU1wSo/s1600/96639669_10156791861971780_7421447043580690432_o.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOPNd3KcRjxc1hwGmt_N5qvsJcxbMbwMYqyJ4NnySreEdW5CgPVsGRtx8tSBIOil04_gTygn-Mtb4jJvF6f1fujqMpnKmqpUmYRfMpDy_hCx_S7rSoJV58ea6Z1qerqBU1wSo/s320/96639669_10156791861971780_7421447043580690432_o.jpg" width="320" /></a>I've never had kids of my own, but have spent decades of my life working with teenagers. They are lucky I had my mom's example of loving kindness and patience. I wouldn't be half the person I am without her good example.<br />
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She's 91 one now, will be 92 at the end of the summer. My sisters, brothers-in-law, nieces, and nephews have been so fortunate to enjoy life with her part of ours!<br />
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I've also enjoyed observing mothers out in nature. This Gambol's quail is one. When we lived on campus, we had a family of Gambol's Quails who would bring their tiny babies to our backyard to fee off the quail block we kept under the pomegranate tree there. We miss seeing her now that we've moved off campus.<br />
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R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-83391868460044414632020-05-07T15:44:00.006-07:002020-11-21T12:32:36.662-07:00For the Birds<div class="separator"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EpO1Ho0D2GQVid_3PV02jdbtBIrwYpLZFyHKLRPRXZkKqi7_RMQAOxol9wANc-8N0Dhsl4aJxD4YXcnoAjvAEEJTaMSJwfYU-tVIKv-0X3waa44CIbxcDlV0Vj-Z2EhqqtU/s1600/95370878_2595947030657885_2861232209581309952_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7EpO1Ho0D2GQVid_3PV02jdbtBIrwYpLZFyHKLRPRXZkKqi7_RMQAOxol9wANc-8N0Dhsl4aJxD4YXcnoAjvAEEJTaMSJwfYU-tVIKv-0X3waa44CIbxcDlV0Vj-Z2EhqqtU/s320/95370878_2595947030657885_2861232209581309952_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div>This week, life has been for the birds...in a good way. Sunday we discovered this mama dove building a nest right on top of my 10 year old spider plant. </div></span>
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<span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><br /></span><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yesterday, when she flew off for a brief break, we saw these two beautiful eggs. I wonder if she is the same dove who built her nest in another hanging flower pot last year. She fledged two pairs of babies, although one of them flew into the pool and drowned. <br /></span><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
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<span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><br /><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="color: #050505;">Meanwhile, we have been inundated by all kinds of finches at our bird feeders, much to Sophie's consternation. Here, she's intently watching about 8 finches (you can't see all of them; they are just out of range of the camera) and chattering madly at them through the window all the while. There is one who likes to taunt her by flying close to the window. Every now and again, she makes a lunge at it, unsuccessfully of course . . .</span></div><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="color: #050505;"><br /></span></div><div><span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="color: #050505;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPo6ZenwDwE8aKgW9zfCk0v35aMgc6GhNs-hdQy5Z9D3Jt1UQTxpudb4FgM5qq0mXXLmteBwjLM-HBp9vmKvfd9qzdH3vlmNo6FRjvigW3DxXc-wF8JQa1wgTpETjIWBG6aQU/" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPo6ZenwDwE8aKgW9zfCk0v35aMgc6GhNs-hdQy5Z9D3Jt1UQTxpudb4FgM5qq0mXXLmteBwjLM-HBp9vmKvfd9qzdH3vlmNo6FRjvigW3DxXc-wF8JQa1wgTpETjIWBG6aQU/" width="180" /></a></div><br /><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></span>
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<span face="system-ui, -apple-system, system-ui, ".SFNSText-Regular", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-76637608112202673762020-05-06T19:57:00.002-07:002020-11-21T12:35:47.999-07:00Hope for the Flowers<br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px;"><b>We have much to hope from the flowers.</b></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;"><b>~ Sir Arthur Conan Doyle</b></span></div>
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">"Tell me, sir, what is a butterfly?"</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">"It's what you are meant to become. It flies with beautiful wings and joins the earth to heaven. It drinks only nectar from the flowers and carries the seeds of love from one flower to another. Without butterflies the world would soon have few flowers."</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">"How can I believe there's a butterfly inside you or me when all I see is a fuzzy worm? How does one become a butterfly?"</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">"You must want to fly so much you are willing to give up being a caterpillar."</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">"You mean to die?"</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">"Yes and No. What looks like you will die but what's really you will still live. Life is changed, not taken away. Isn't that different from those who die without ever becoming butterflies?"</span><br />
<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">--Hope For the Flowers by Trina Paulus</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">How does one become a butterfly? How does one get the courage to go from caterpillar to butterfly? What gives one the faith needed to take the risk to enter the cocoon in order to become a butterfly? More prosaically, how does one become a committed Christian? How does one get the courage to go from carefree to completely devoted? What gives one the faith to take the risk to become a Christian? How does one know the decision will pay off, that it will be worth it, that there will be no regrets? What makes one risk the only life they know for the mere possibility of eternal happiness? What does one have to go on, except what others say about their experience, and the peculiar hope that leaps within them at the promise of salvation?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">Augustine once said “the soul is restless until it rests in God.” And C. S. Lewis explained in his book Mere Christianity that it is not possible for man to live apart from Christ because "God made us: invented us as a man invents an engine. A car is made to run on gasoline, and it would not run properly on anything else. Now God designed the human machine to run on Himself. He Himself is the fuel our spirits were designed to feed on. There is no other. That is why it is just no good asking God to make us happy in our own way without bothering about religion. God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing."</span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">So, there is in us a need for God. And it is natural for us to seek for a way to fill that need, just as it is natural for a caterpillar to eventually perform the task necessary to become a butterfly. A caterpillar, though, has no choice. A caterpillar cannot not become a butterfly. It must become one, because that is what a caterpillar does. Similarly, we cannot escape the urge to enter into a relationship with God. The difference, though, is that we have a choice, where a caterpillar does not. We can choose to ignore that natural drive towards a connection with God. We can choose to deny our need for a Higher Power directing our lives. We can choose to ignore our hunger for spiritual nourishment. But if we choose any one of these options, we will not be choosing happiness, too. And that, very simply, is it in a nutshell--or, rather, a cocoon.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHis3PO4M0RD0FGzBlSzc65y4E-dzFdYSHYFuosANqRMyPrV0iOmphJiZpagcuM_o972LVZ7_jZdbidUR6xkQerYgBP4HZsiPxhVVxo7pF192ieHwDewxyYbbcgILZFJdF8vU/s1600/IMG_3683.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHis3PO4M0RD0FGzBlSzc65y4E-dzFdYSHYFuosANqRMyPrV0iOmphJiZpagcuM_o972LVZ7_jZdbidUR6xkQerYgBP4HZsiPxhVVxo7pF192ieHwDewxyYbbcgILZFJdF8vU/s320/IMG_3683.jpeg" width="320" /></a><span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">There are risks, of course. Risks which are not so simple as entering into a cocoon one day and coming out a butterfly the next. And it is those risks which get in the way of so many, keeping them from experiencing the greatest love and satisfaction ever imagined possible. No one is born a spiritual butterfly. All of us come into the world as caterpillars. And all of us have to deal with metamorphosis, eventually. How we do so is what keeps us caterpillars or frees us into butterflies. Sooner rather than later, there must come a time when we need to decide to continue the caterpillar lifestyle or go through the process of becoming one of the most beautiful of all fliers.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">I like the way <i>The Message</i> describes the metamorphosis experience in 2 Corinthians 5:16-20: “Because of this decision we don’t evaluate people by what they have or how they look. We looked at the Messiah that way once and got it all wrong, as you know. We certainly don’t look at him that way anymore. Now we look inside, and what we see is that anyone united with the Messiah gets a fresh start, is created new. The old life is gone; a new life burgeons! Look at it! All this comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other. God put the world square with himself through the Messiah, giving the world a fresh start by offering forgiveness of sins. God has given us the task of telling everyone what he is doing. We’re Christ’s representatives. God uses us to persuade men and women to drop their differences and enter into God’s work of making things right between them. We’re speaking for Christ himself now: Become friends with God; he’s already a friend with you.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="caret-color: rgb(0, 0, 0); font-size: 14px; text-size-adjust: auto;">It is at that point there is hope for the flowers.</span>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-72522238348806840542020-05-05T20:10:00.004-07:002020-07-26T12:39:29.914-07:00Life in the Time of Corona--Week 7<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We are now in the 8th week of Arizona's Stay at Home order in response to the Coronavirus--7th week of school-at-home. During these weeks of sitting (quite a lot) in front of a computer for hours at a time, it's been hard to find time to get my steps in. And yet we occasionally get out for a saunter around the neighborhood. Here's one of the more interesting plants we've seen. Looks kind of like the virus!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-1622898061860903012020-05-04T21:12:00.002-07:002020-11-21T12:36:55.230-07:00Dress Yourselves in Christ<p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I remember when I was younger (much), my mother and father would read Bible Stories to my sisters and me. I remember looking at the pictures of Jesus in the clouds and all the happy people coming out of their graves to meet Him—and I remember a strange sort of wonder and awe rushing through me. What a neat thing it would be to see Jesus when He comes! I remember not even thinking twice about leaving all I had on this earth and going home with Jesus. To be with Him would be the most exciting thing possible—and I couldn’t wait for Him to come. I look back on those little-girl dream-days and I have to smile. It’s a sad sort of smile, though, because so much simple joy has gone out of me since then. I hate to even say how long it has been—and He still hasn’t come. And instead of keeping that precious child-like eagerness, my heart is filled with a sad and hurting longing. True, it’s still a longing for Jesus to come back, but it’s also a longing for something else to come back—maybe that simplicity, that innocence I had as a child.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">There have been times in my life when I’ve felt like I was closer to it than I’d been before, but instead of exciting me, somehow, it’s always kind of unnerved me. I remember especially one night. It was August 1 and I was in Interlaken, Switzerland watching the town’s spectacular celebration of the Swiss Independence Day. There had been a great parade and yodeling contests in the afternoon and a concert in the evening, followed by an hour-long display of fireworks such as you’ve never seen before. Imagine the scene—a crystal clear night in the Alps of Switzerland. Hundreds of people are gathered around the edges of the town’s open common, all eyes centered on a few men in the middle. Suddenly, there is a sharp hiss and then a loud explosion of color in the sky above that does not stop for the next hour. It just keeps coming, burst after burst of magnificence. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">As I stood there watching, something very strange happened. Even though I was in the midst of a crowd of loud and excited people, I suddenly felt as if I were alone. Instead of fireworks in the sky, I was seeing Jesus and His angels in all their glory. It only lasted a moment, but in that moment, a change came over me. When the moment passed and I discovered that I was still on earth watching a display of earthly fireworks, I felt relief that there was still time to get my life together and yet at the same time, regret that Christ’s return wasn’t so imminent after all. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">That was more than 40 summers ago and He hasn’t come yet. The other day I found myself wondering why—and when—and if. Why hasn’t He come yet? When will we finally figure out what we have to do to get Him back here? And if I would be here to see it. There was another if, too. If the people in my life would be ready when He came. Most Christians will say that we’re living in the last days, that we don’t have much time left here. If that’s true, it seems to me that it’s incumbent on each of us to make sure everyone we care about knows it too. And that they are as ready as we hope we are…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">This week the North American Division has provided an opportunity for all Adventist young people, whether attending Adventist schools or not, to “attend” a Week of Prayer hosted at the Oakwood Adventist Church and featuring Carlton Byrd as the speaker. The theme is “Finish Strong.” As I write this, we have only heard the first installment but Bryd was very specific about what it means to “finish” and to “finish strong” and I am looking forward to hearing the rest of his message throughout this week and seeing how it translates into a response to his call to “finish strong.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In this most unusual time of uncertainty, it seems important, even necessary, that each of us gets our priorities straight, not just our young people. We all need to “finish strong” with Jesus. I love the fact that each of us has that opportunity every single day, all day long. I love the fact that we have each day to make what we know about God’s love abundantly clear to anyone within the sphere of our influence—and that there is the distinct possibility that more than one of them will be ready to hear and understand it on any given day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Romans 13:11 is a good reminder of why this matters so much. <i>The Message</i> interpretation of the texts says this: “But make sure that you don’t get so absorbed and exhausted in taking care of all your day-by-day obligations that you lose track of the time and doze off, oblivious to God. The night is about over, dawn is about to break. Be up and awake to what God is doing! God is putting the finishing touches on the salvation work he began when we first believed. We can’t afford to waste a minute, must not squander these precious daylight hours in frivolity and indulgence, in sleeping around and dissipation, in bickering and grabbing everything in sight. Get out of bed and get dressed! Don’t loiter and linger, waiting until the very last minute. Dress yourselves in Christ, and be up and about!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">That is my prayer, then. That none will escape each day without making a decision about the place Jesus has in their life . . . that they will not be afraid to make the decision that their heart longs to make . . . that they will live a strong and happy life here on earth as a result . . . but more importantly find their place in heaven sooner than later.<o:p></o:p></span></p>R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-12568452966435930222020-05-03T20:01:00.004-07:002020-07-26T12:40:05.524-07:00What We Can Become<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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This is really the question for each of us as individuals as well as those of us who are involved with institutions. Sooner or later, we will be able to go back to work, back to school. If we can't go back as better people, though, and with the intention to be better in every way, we will have wasted our time away from each other.<br />
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There are just two weeks of classes and a week for finals left in the school year. I am hoping for the best possible outcome and that we will finish strong.R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-25825059816117972222020-04-29T18:58:00.000-07:002020-04-29T18:58:10.522-07:00There is a Balm<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"And their father Israel said unto them, if it must be so now, do this; take of the best fruits in the land in your vessels, and carry down the man a present, a balm, and a little honey, spices, and myrrh, nuts, and almonds." Genesis 43:11<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Ten years ago last week, I spent the better part of the week in North Conway, NH, for the annual spring Atlantic Union Conference Office of Education Administrators' Council. It was a productive time; it also was a restful time. Each spring, one the six conferences in the Atlantic Union take turns hosting these meetings and the conference educational personnel go out of their way to make them worth the trip and the time. The spring of 2010, Northern New England Conference hosted and we met at a hotel nestled in the shadow of the Presidential mountain range of the White Mountains. The views from the conference room where we met, while foggy and rainy, and even snowy, were still breath-taking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">One of the traditions of these spring meetings is that the host conference provides each team member with a gift bag full of items representative of the host conference and, more specifically, state. That year's bag was full of comfort items—including kettle corn, maple taffy, and a tin of soothing balm for either sleep, muscle soreness, or healing. In addition, the superintendent of education and her secretary made beautiful welcome cards with a lovely fringed gentian along with the above text (Genesis 43:11) on the cover and the wonderful negro spiritual "There is a Balm in Gilead" on the inside. Trudy (the superintendent) read the lyrics out loud to us as part of her welcome, expressing her hope that our time together would be a balm in the midst of our Gileads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">As I listened to the words of that hymn, I felt overwhelmed with the power and comfort of its message:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There is a balm in Gilead<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">To make the wounded whole.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There is a balm in Gilead<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">To heal the sin-sick soul.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Sometimes I feel discouraged<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And I feel my work's in vain.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But then the Holy Spirit<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Revives my soul again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There is a balm in Gilead...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">My friends attending and facilitating the week’s meetings little realized how much I needed that reminder, and I didn’t enlighten them at the time. It was enough that something (a few things, actually) broke the tension that had been threatening to break me if I didn’t catch my breath somehow. The kind words, the thoughtful, soothing gifts, and the healing words of an old hymn sufficed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Sometimes that’s all it takes to bring healing to a hurting heart. Sometimes we don’t even need all that. Maybe it just takes a note, a text letting someone know we are thinking of them, that we are there for them if they need us. At the end of each of my online classes, I always tell the students to reach out to me if they need anything. “I’m here all day long,” I tell them. I’ve been on the receiving end of a few notes thanking me for that, commenting that even if they don’t need help with school, it helps knowing someone is there, ready to sooth and comfort if needed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There is another in our lives who is a balm in the Gilead of our trials and tribulations. That other, Jesus Christ, is always there for us, and not just in the daylight hours. There are no limits to His time or His presence. Isaiah 43:2-3 New Century Version describes it this way:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><sup><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">2 </span></sup></b><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">When you pass through the waters, I will be with you.<br /> When you cross rivers, you will not drown.<br />When you walk through fire, you will not be burned,<br /> nor will the flames hurt you.<br /><b><sup>3 </sup></b>This is because I, the Lord, am your God,<br /> the Holy One of Israel, your Savior.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">We are all in need of the soothing balm that can only come through a relationship with Jesus. May I recommend Him to you? He will revive your soul today.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-45843508611689300402020-04-28T19:13:00.001-07:002020-04-28T19:13:42.572-07:00No God, Only Chaos<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">"All this talk about God was just a childish evasion—desperate lies from a frightened, lonely mortal to himself out in a cold, dark, eternal night."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">I read a book several years ago about the Impressionist artist Vincent Van Gogh. It was a fascinating study about an artist who had interested me for nearly thirty years, ever since I’d read Irving Stone's riveting biography, <i>Lust for Life</i>. Stone's book tells the story of the great Dutch artist who went as an evangelist to the miners of the Borinage in </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">Belgium when he was in his early twenties. Vincent was enthusiastic and energetic as he began his ministry, eager to bring Christ to the miners who were as ignorant and illiterate as heathens. The mining conditions were deplorable, the wage/hour ratio outrageous, and what's more, there was no hope of any sort of improvement—ever. The owners turned deaf ears to all pleas. "It is the unsatisfactory lay of the couches," they said. "And that condition we will have to blame on God!" It was a hopeless vicious circle.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">When Vincent went to the manager, all he would do was shake his head and say "that is<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">what turned me from a firm, faithful Catholic to a better atheist. I cannot understand how a God in Heaven would purposely create such a condition and enslave a whole race of people in abject misery for century after century without one hour of providential mercy!" Stunned Vincent left without a word. But he persisted in his attempts to bring God's comfort to the miners. Someway, he felt he could help them by giving them the peace of mind that comes in knowing God--in having Him as Friend and Protector. And he succeeded—for awhile. The miners were starved for something like this and they listened with all their hearts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Then one day a terrible accident occurred in the mines, killing 30 men--among them the foreman, the only man, besides Vincent, the miners trusted. They asked Vincent if he would go again to the owners and beg, on their behalf, for some sort of assistance and improvement in the working conditions. He did, but there was nothing he could say to persuade them to change. The owners refused to make any improvements, and if the miners didn't work they said, the mines would be shut down. "Then God only know what will happen to them."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Vincent was defeated. "God only knows," the owners had said. But—did He really know? And if He did, why didn't He help them? Why didn't He make the owners change their minds? Vincent had tried to bring God to the miners as a hope, a protection from the hideous conditions in the mines. He had tried to give them an opiate of religion, if you please. And he had failed. What could he say when the enemy was not the owners after all, but God Himself—the very opposite concept from what he had been preaching? Suddenly Vincent realized that "all this talk about God was just a childish evasion—desperate lies from a frightened, lonely mortal to himself out in a cold, dark, eternal night. There was no God only chaos; miserable, suffering, cruel, tortuous, blind, endless chaos."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Vincent never preached another sermon again. From that moment on, he, too, was an atheist. God had failed him as well as the miners. Or had He? This story disturbed me as I read it. I recognized a lot of my own thinking when I have been severely disappointed or let down in something I had believed in—maybe even prayed about. Too often I am so sure I am right, that I am doing what God wants me to—and to suddenly discover that I am wrong, or for something terrible to happen seemingly out of the blue, can be a shattering experience. If I am not truly and firmly grounded in my Christian experience, I am apt to lose my perspective, my faith in God. I begin to believe He doesn't care; if He did, He wouldn't have let me down, He wouldn't have let "this" happen. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">It is in times like these that it is hardest for me to remember that God does know best, that He does care for me and is doing all He can for me. When it seems like there is nowhere left to turn, no answers, no hope, it is almost impossible to remember that I am not to live eternally here. But there is an end to the misery, and a chance for a new beginning—one with no dead ends. As a Christian, I know this. I have heard it countless times. But as a human being, I don't always feel this. It is so easy to forget—to blame God for not helping me--instead of realizing that it is the sinful way of the world that makes it seem as if God's hands are tied—for the moment. It is this tendency that disturbs—even frightens—me. At the same time, it is the realization of this tendency that strengthens me. Ellen White tells us in ˆ, volume 9, p. 286 that "All that has perplexed us in the providences of God will in the world to come be made plain. The things hard to understand will then find explanation. The mysteries of grace will unfold before us. Where our finite minds discover only confusion and broken promises, we shall see the most perfect and beautiful harmony. We shall know that infinite love ordered the experiences that seemed most trying. As we realize the tender care of Him who makes all things work together for our good, we shall rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There are many things that we don't understand here on earth. Sometimes it seems as if nothing is going right. And we ask God to help us—expecting Him to answer the way we want. Sometimes He does, but sometimes He can't. In those times—when we feel like throwing our faith away because it isn't giving the desired opiate effect—we need most to hold on. Maybe if Vincent had been able to hang on to his faith, he might not have lost his mind. After he left the mining community, Vincent turned to painting. He spent years trying to find recognition and success as an artist, but mostly met with disappointment and rejection. Eventually, he suffered a breakdown, cutting off his own ear in his desperation. He was in and out of asylums, trying to find peace, but never finding it. Maybe he might not have had to spend his life searching for something to fill the gap that was left when he abandoned God. If he had held on, especially in the dark moments, he would have known that without Him, there is nothing. Only chaos; miserable, suffering, cruel, tortuous, blind, chaos.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-20776338652745284782020-04-27T19:26:00.000-07:002020-04-27T19:26:28.288-07:00Know Thyself<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“The only good is knowledge and the only evil is ignorance.” This, from the same man who said the most important thing was to “Know thyself.” Socrates was the man, and knowledge was not just his profession and hobby, it was his life. I’ve been thinking about Socrates’ words lately. I guess it’s been triggered by a few things, some direct, some more indirect. A dozen years ago this past summer, I spent time in Athens, Greece, home to Socrates. I walked the streets he walked, stood on the steps of the buildings he haunted, gazed out across the Mediterranean the way I’m sure he must have. I was reminded of the way he had of encouraging his followers to think, to dig deeply inside, to think for themselves. I’ve never forgotten how it felt to walk in his footsteps—literally and figuratively. I felt like I knew myself a little better, just for walking those streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The other night I stumbled across an episode of Rick Steves’ Europe about Athens.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Seeing again the places Socrates had walked and talked put me in mind of a get acquainted exercise I like to play with my students at the beginning of the school year, an exercise I learned at an interdenominational prayer service while visiting Wake Forest University when I was in college. You pair off with someone you don’t know and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">ask each other three questions, alternating with each other: Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? The exercise isn’t as simple as it might seem. With each successive question, you have to dig deeper to give an answer. You start off with your name and where you are from. But the next time you have to say something less superficial. You have to say something about who you really are, something about what is meaningful to you. By the time you get to the third question, you are reaching into your inner core,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">looking for something strong and positive to say about yourself, looking for something<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">that says something about you that will make an impression, a good one. By now, you know yourself a little better, and so does your partner.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">My last brush with Socrates came from an Oprah interview with the author of a book entitled <i>What are You Doing with the Rest of Your Life</i>? The title caught my attention, as did the list of questions and activities Oprah, the author, and the audience were going to focus on for the next hour. “What is your life’s mission?” Oprah asked. “If you were to die today, what would you have given to those left here on earth?” “If you had only one month to live, how would you put your life in order? What would you have to do? What would you want to do?” Sobering questions. Deep questions. Difficult questions. But questions which must be addressed if we are to know ourselves, and if we are to be happy and satisfied with the life we have. And questions that seem especially apropos to us today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Paula Harden, the author of the book, suggested that we need to recognize that life has a pattern, and that it is important for us to examine our lives, see where we are amidst that general pattern, and then determine what we have to do in order to be happy. She said that we need to get serious about life, that we need to live every moment intentionally—with purpose and power. Recognizing that such knowledge, such recognition doesn’t come easily, she had the audience do several activities to assist them in their assessment. First, she had them fill four sheets of paper, each with a different heading: “What I want to do,” “What I want to be,” “What I want to have,” and “What I want to give.” Money, time, or ability were not to be objects. The sheets were to be filled with every possibility and dream, bar none. Ms. Harden then had the audience write their own obituary. That’s right. Their own obituary. The important thing was not when or how they had died, of course. But how they had lived. What had they accomplished with their life up to that point? What good had they done—for the people around them, for themselves? Had they realized their potential? Were they even close? What direction were they traveling in at the moment of their passing? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Morbid as this activity seems, I’d like to recommend it to you all the same. In reality, it’s not looking at the end of your life. It’s looking at your life’s progress to this point (in much the same way a child’s academic progress report looks at their academic progress). It’s an objective examination of the things you’ve accomplished in the time you’ve been given thus far. The value in this research should be obvious. By so knowing your past self, you are better able to approach and discipline your present self, so you can make plans for your future self. By so knowing yourself, you are better able to find your way to a happier life. By being honest with yourself in this exploration, you are more likely to find the success you are hoping for in your future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There is another who walked the streets of Athens who also had a lot to say about knowing ourselves, and about the legacy we leave behind us when our time on earth is done. Paul the Apostle famous compared our life’s journey to a race. In his second letter to Timothy, he encouraged him to leave a strong and positive legacy behind when his race is finished. He encouraged him to live so that at the end, he would say, like Paul, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now, a crown is being held for me—a crown for being right with God. The Lord, the judge who judges rightly, will give the crown to me on that day—not only to me but to all those who have waited with love for Him to come again”(II Timothy 4:7-8).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Know thyself.” How well do you really know yourself? Who are you anyway? Are you something more than a father, mother, sister, brother, aunt, uncle, grandparent, child, friend, church member? Are you something more than a supporter of Christian Education? Are you something more than the sum of your friends, than the product of your parents? Are you something more than the shape you have been given at home, at work, at church? “Know thyself.” Socrates was right. We cannot live until we know who we are, where we have been, and where we are going. Do you know?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-47429566468501327222020-04-26T21:29:00.000-07:002020-04-26T21:29:36.095-07:00I'd Rather Have Jesus<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">One day when, as a young man, George Beverly Shea was struggling to find his way in the world. At a loss for direction, he sat down at the piano. There, he found a poem that touched his heart. Shea’s mother, knowing he was searching, had left the poem on the family piano, hoping he would find it and be touched by its words. He did. He was. Within minutes, he was singing it to a tune he composed on the spot. As he read the poem over and over, he was moved to put his emotions to melody. His mother overheard him singing and asked him to sing it for church the next Sunday. At the time, he was intending a career in popular music, but he sang the hymn for his mother, which led, eventually, to an opportunity to work with Billy Graham’s evangelistic team. </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">For the next seven plus decades, Shea lifted his voice, and that hymn, in praise to millions the world over.</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">I’ve been thinking about what it takes to find your passion, your calling. The key, I think is listening. And letting go. Listening for God to reveal His plan to you and letting go of your own plans and expectations. A number of years ago, we had a Week of Prayer speaker at the academy I worked at (not TAA). The young man, a former student of mine who was now CEO of a luxury yacht-making company, had a passion for making a difference and encouraging others to do the same. A graduate of the first school I ever taught at, he proved to be a humble and wonderful ambassador for Jesus. In fact, he shook our thinking up about “finding your calling” when he told the students the second morning that they didn’t need to wait until sometime in the future to serve God. “God needs you now,” he said. “He can use you right now, where you are. There are so many opportunities for you to serve if you will ask Him to show you what they are.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">I thought of it again when I heard George Beverly Shea recount (on a YouTube documentary) the story of how his career as a gospel singer got started. He simply let the Spirit move him, and let God use him right then and there. The Week of Prayer speaker talked about how we, as Christians, are all called to lead. “But,” he said, “in order for God to use you, you have to be open in your heart. He puts you eye-to-eye with a need, but you must be ready, willing, and able to serve when the time comes.” That’s exactly what Shea did when read that poem on the piano.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">In 2005, my friend was called on to put his boat-building skills to use for God in an unusual way when he was asked to design a floating church for the Adventist community that lives on the floating islands of Lake Titicaca high in the Andes Mountains of Peru. He and his company craftsmen and women volunteered their time to design and then build a floating church that was also a boat that could navigate the lake waters from island to island to serve the natives living there. Several of workers, including my friend and his family, put their lives and careers on hold to travel to Peru to see the project through to the end, a project that took more weeks than they’d planned on (it turned out to be quite an engineering feat). “God can do the extra-ordinary with the ordinary,” he told us, “but we must be willing, more willing to make a difference than to be indifferent.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">How about you? Are you ready to serve God where you are? Are you willing to do what He needs you to do? Are you able to walk away from the material things in front of you and say...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;"><br />I'd rather have Jesus than silver or gold;<br />I'd rather be His than have riches untold;<br />I'd rather have Jesus than houses or lands.<br />I'd rather be led by His nail pierced hand <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Chorus:<br />Than to be the king of a vast domain<br />Or be held in sin's dread sway.<br />I'd rather have Jesus than anything<br />This world affords today.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">I'd rather have Jesus than men's applause;<br />I'd rather be faithful to His dear cause;<br />I'd rather have Jesus than worldwide fame.<br />I'd rather be true to His holy name [Chorus]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">He's fairer than lilies of rarest bloom;<br />He's sweeter than honey from out the comb;<br />He's all that my hungering spirit needs.<br />I'd rather have Jesus and let Him lead [Chorus]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-53123682777346164232020-04-22T19:42:00.000-07:002020-04-22T19:45:29.324-07:00Practicing the Presence of God<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">My King is full of mercy and goodness. Far from chastising me, He embraces me with love. He makes me eat at His table. He serves me with His own hands and gives me the key to His treasures. He converses and delights Himself with me incessantly, in a thousand and a thousand ways. And He treats me in all respects as His favorite. In this way I consider myself continually in His holy presence.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">~ Brother Lawrence, 1895<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Sometimes, when I'm looking for a book to read, I wander the aisles at Barnes &<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Noble looking at covers (I've been known to choose a book for its cover) and titles (I especially love clever titles). Sometimes, though, I go to my own crowded bookshelves and look for old friends. There is a particular joy in reacquainting yourself with words that have made their mark on you in the past. You are, after all, a different person each time, even if the words are the same. You have new experiences, new insight to bring to the reading, and you'll see and understand more each time to you read. I</span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">'ve been re-reading Brother Lawrence's </span><i style="font-family: "book antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">The Practice of the Presence of God</i><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;"> this week. It's been a part of my personal library since I was in college, at least. It's a small book, with an unassuming cover. But the words and ideas inside are life-changing. Published after his death in 1691, the little book is a collection of conversations and letters shared between Brother Lawrence and several friends towards the end of his life. In fact, he died a few days after the last letter was written. They chronicle how this legendary French monk found peace as he walked and talked with God for more than 40 years. And they have inspired me on more than one occasion to slow down, take stock, be still and know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">Born Nicholas Herman in 1610, he fought in the Thirty Years War where he received an injury that left him crippled and in severe pain for the rest of his life. He took on the name of Lawrence after the parish priest who encouraged him as a young boy in his spiritual walk. In between his life as a soldier and the time he became a monk, he spent </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">some time living in the wilderness and was in service as well. He described himself as a "footman who was clumsy and broke everything." Finally, he entered a monastery in Paris where he served as cook for 15 years before moving to the sandal repair shop. During all this time, Brother Lawrence was learning about God through his daily walk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">The introduction to the Light Heart edition of the book says that "In times as troubled a today, Brother Lawrence, discovered, then followed, a pure and uncomplicated way to walk continually in God's presence. For some forty years, he lived and walked with Our Father at his side." While this sounds interesting and inspiring, what is most interesting and inspiring to me is reading about Lawrence's evolution in his understanding of the character of God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">In the early years of his intense effort to get to know God he spent many hours dwelling everything that was flawed in his own character. In his second letter, he writes "For </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">the first years, I commonly employed myself during the time set apart for devotion with </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif; font-size: 12pt;">thoughts of death, judgment, hell, heaven, and my sins. I continued, for some years, applying my mind carefully the rest of the day, and even in the midst of my work, to the presence of God, whom I considered always as with me, often as in my heart." He goes on to say, though, that this kind of meditation caused him a great deal mental anguish. "It seemed to me that all creatures, reason, and God, Himself, were against me and faith alone for me."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">After 10 years, he figured out that all the negative dwelling he'd been doing didn't give him the truest picture of God. So he shifted his approach. "Finally," he writes. "I considered the prospect of spending the rest of my days in these troubles. I discovered this did not diminish the trust I had in God. In fact, it only served to increase my faith. It then seemed that, all at once, I found myself changed. My soul, which, until that time was in trouble, felt a profound inward peace, as if she was in her center and place of rest. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">“Ever since that time I walk before God simply, in faith, with humility, and with love. I apply myself diligently to do nothing and think nothing which may displease Him. I hope that when I have done what I can, He will do with me what He pleases." Notice the subtle shift of attention from the negatives of his life to the positives of God in his life. Instead of feeling weighed down by his sins and transgressions, he is buoyed up by God's love. "My King is full of mercy and goodness. Far from chastising me, He embraces me with love. . . . He treats me in all respects as His favorite. In this way I consider myself continually in His holy presence."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "book antiqua" , serif;">As I re-read this slim volume this week, I was inspired to aspire anew to practicing the </span><span style="font-family: "book antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">presence of God. May that be the experience of us all.</span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-84836572400334482932020-04-21T21:03:00.001-07:002020-04-21T21:03:14.702-07:00An Attitude Adjustment<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">I’ve been talking with students this week about attitude. This distance learning isn’t as easy as you might think. Teachers are spending scores of hours online working with their students either individually or in groups. Students are having to discipline themselves to stay focused without the aid of a teacher by their side. And, parents are stressed in trying to get their children focused so the schoolwork is accomplished. With the older students, they don’t get as much parental attention, so for some of them this experience is overwhelming. The problem for so many of them, though, is that they limit themselves before they start, simply with their attitude.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">One of the most common things I heard this week (and it’s only been two days so far) is “I can’t.” I can’t do this, I can’t do that.” “I can’t find the assignment.” “I can’t get my Chromebook to work.” “I can’t take the test today.” “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t!” Whenever I heard a “can’t” statement, I challenged the speaker to add two letters to it and say “I can try” instead. Those two letters, if acted on, can change up everything. If someone says “I can’t,” there is nowhere to go from there. If a person says “I can try,” all kinds of possibilities open up, most of them good.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">While it was dozens of times in two days that I heard that phrase from my students, the truth is that it’s not just students who use that phrase. We all do at one time or another. At least I know <i>I </i>do. Not only that, but the phrase has been around longer than any of us have been. I remember as a child hearing the “Uncle Arthur” story about a boy who always said “I can’t.” I don’t remember all the details, but I remember the part where Uncle Arthur said all he had to do was “knock out the T” and say “I can!” Made sense then, and it makes sense now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Charles Swindoll—a Christian author, educator, pastor, and radio preacher who founded Insight for Living, a radio show that airs on more than 2,000 stations world-wide in more than 15 languages—says this about attitude: "The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company, a church, a home, [ a school]. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day. We cannot change our past and we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. . . . I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you. We are in charge of our Attitude."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">How right he is! Our attitude towards the things we need or have to do makes all the difference in the world. If we think we can’t do something, then we won’t. But if we think we can at least try, then all manner of doors open to us. If a student is struggling with an assignment, and gives up, there’s really nothing a teacher can do to help the situation. But if a student struggles and tries, actually puts something on paper, then there’s something to work with. If there is effort, there is possibility.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The same goes for any of us. My conversations with students this week have made me take a look at my own life and the struggles I face personally and professionally. Over and over, I’ve challenged my students to eliminate the word “can’t” from their vocabulary. As I’ve heard myself say that out loud, though, I’ve thought about the times I, too, say that word, and I’ve vowed to make an effort to eradicate it from my vocabulary as well. It’s not easy. But it can be devastating to allow that attitude to prevail. So, as I’ve encouraged my students, I encourage you, alongside myself, to make an effort to say “I can try” instead of “I can’t.” I also urge you to claim the promise, one that is a favorite here on the Thunderbird campus: “I can do all things through Christ, who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:13. We are in charge of our attitude, but it is only through His strength that we can make the attitude adjustments we need to enjoy a happy and successful life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-25671335611650234622020-04-20T20:39:00.003-07:002020-04-20T20:39:43.530-07:00God's Great Poet<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">At 17 years old, John Milton knew what he wanted to do with his life. Brought up in a home where his prosperous father was a church musician, among other things, John was well-educated. By the time he was twelve, he was already studying several languages, both modern and classical. By the time he entered Christ’s College, John knew that he would be a poet. But not just any poet. He wanted to be a “great” poet. Even more, he wanted to be “God’s” great poet. Today, more than 400 years after his birth, we are still reading and studying John Milton’s poetry. His long poem about the fall of man, Paradise Lost, is considered the greatest epic poem written in the English language. God’s great poet indeed!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Milton’s decision as a teenager to be the best he could be for God is an amazing one to me. Every time I share his story with the seniors, I am inspired to rededicate my own life, re-explore my own determination and purpose for life. What interests me even more is the lengths Milton went to prepare himself to accomplish the goal he set for himself as a young man. After obtaining his M.A., he returned to his father’s house and spent the next six years continuing his studies, reading everything then known in ancient and modern languages (imagine!). He then embarked on a two-year Grand Tour of Europe that was, unfortunately, cut short by political turbulence back in England. Still, by the time he began his work as a writer, he was very well prepared, quite able to fulfill his life’s purpose.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">I love that Milton’s plan was to not only be great, but great for God. I love that the plan, while seemingly ambitious, was doable, and that education, both formal and personal, was integral to the success of the plan. And I love that the plan blossomed into fruition. No doubt that prayer and meditation went hand in hand with study. No doubt there were days when John questioned himself. Certainly, he questioned God when, at age 44, he went blind. He even wrote a sonnet lamenting the fact that he would no longer be able to serve God the way he was used to. The turning point of the poem, though, is where he realizes that God didn’t really need him, He just needed him to be willing and ready to serve if need be. “They also serve who only stand and wait,” John concludes. And yet, he found a way to keep creating, keep serving. It was after that devastating loss of sight, that he wrote what became his greatest work. 11,000 lines of poetry, composed in his head at night and dictated to his daughter and other helpers in the morning, <i>Paradise Lost</i> was an instant success. Critics were amazed; even John Dryden, a contemporary and sometime literary rival, is reported to have said, "This man cuts us all out, and the ancients too."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Even more interesting, especially for today as we are dealing with the Coronavirus pandemic, is that the year was 1665, in the midst of London's Great Plague. Milton fled the city with his wife and daughters and it was during this time of exile from home that the great English epic was born. Not only that, but its sequel <i>Paradise Regain’d</i> was also inspired during this Plague quarantine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">John Milton realized that being at the ready for God is the greatest possible service to Him. He got ready by getting the best possible education. He got ready by determining to accept nothing but the best from himself. He got ready by saying out loud that he was going to be God’s best poet, and then finding a way to make that happen. What about you? What are you doing today? Are you the best at your job? </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Are you the best at </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">your job? Are you God’s best at your job? My prayer for each of us today is that </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif; font-size: 12pt;">this may be so.</span></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-60732400902963825282020-04-19T19:08:00.002-07:002020-04-19T19:19:24.958-07:00No God, No Peace. Know God, Know Peace.<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Arrus BT", serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
People from the beginning of time have been looking for peace. Remember how, in Bible days, they always greeted one another with "Peace be unto you and your house?” You and I are no different. You and I are looking for peace, too. Peace of mind. Peace of heart. Peace of God.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We're looking, because whether or not we want to admit it, we need this peace—especially this peace of God. It's hard to acknowledge this need sometimes, particularly when we<sup>’</sup>re young (and I'm not sure I mean this just in age. Experience and vision have a lot to do with it too). Too often we fail to listen to the inner longings of our soul. Many times, it’s because we're so busy dealing with all our surface needs and demands. Other times it's because we do not want to be dependent on anyone or anything—even God. Whatever the reason, we neglect that inner calling much too many times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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When I was younger, we used to sing a song, "I've got the Peace that passeth understanding down in my heart." Remember it? Have you ever thought about the words? Do you know what they mean, that peace that passeth understanding? For the longest time I didn't. All I knew was that it was a tongue-twister line and we usually ended up laughing through the verse. How could something so good be beyond understanding? For the implication <u>is</u> that this peace is good, is it not? Well, I didn't really know. And at the moment, I didn't want to bother trying to figure it all out.<o:p></o:p></div>
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About the same time I was singing that song with all my friends, my parents gave me a Bible for my birthday. Each wrote a text in the front—one they thought would offer a lifetime of comfort and strength. My mother wrote Isaiah 26:3: "Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee because he trusteth in Thee." The Living Bible puts it this way: "He will keep in peace all those who trust in Him, whose thoughts turn often to the Lord."<o:p></o:p></div>
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I've never forgotten that verse. Again, I wasn't sure then just what was so important about that promise. I was young, untouched by, and unconcerned about, the chaos and turmoil that is often life. But I learned the verse anyway. And now I know. I know what that peace can mean in a hectic and fractured life. And I know, too, why that peace—if you have it—passes all understanding. It cannot be defined. Neither the need nor the solution. It's just something that is.<o:p></o:p></div>
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No God. No peace. Know God. Know peace. It's not only that simple, it's that important. Unfortunately, it's also that easy a thing to ignore. C.S. Lewis has a chapter in his book <i>Mere Christianity</i> which he calls "The Shocking Alternative." In it, he says that there is no possibility for happiness and peace of mind, heart, and soul without God because we were designed to run on God. “It’s just no good” to try to find it without God in your life he says. I have often used that essay in writing classes as an example of not only excellent technical writing, but also persuasive writing. I like to read it out loud because without fail, when we finish hearing that essay, if we didn’t believe before, we unequivocally do then. I love seeing the recognition in people’s eyes when we get to the end of that essay and hearing them say, "Yes! That's it! There is nothing more to say! I get it now!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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Remember this. No God. No peace. Without Him in our lives, there is absolutely no possibility for peace. No possibility for openness and acceptance. No possibility for inspiration or joy from God, others, or creation. None. We were not created that way. The philosopher Aristotle wrote that "my soul is restless until it rests in God." And Hans Christian Anderson thought that "In every human life, whether poor or great, there is an invisible thread that shows we belong to God."<o:p></o:p></div>
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Unless we have personally invited Christ into our life, unless we have spent time with Him—personal time—time that is apart from the corporate worship and study provided by the institutions, we will not know that peace beyond all understanding. There are countless promises in the Bible which tell us "He will give His people strength. He will bless them with peace" (Psalm 29:11). And Jesus told His disciples—and, vicariously, us too—"I am leaving you with a gift--peace of mind and heart! And the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the world gives. So don't be troubled or afraid" (John 14:27). But it can't be ours unless we believe, and <u>make</u> it ours.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Know God. Know peace. It's that simple. And that solitary. But once the invitation goes out, once the invitation is accepted, once the house is cleaned and ready for the guest, once He appears on the doorstep to our heart, once we feel His presence, once we KNOW PEACE, there is no loneliness, no coldness, no emptiness, no need for other things to fill that void.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Know God? Know peace. A peace that passes all understanding. A peace that is for now. And for eternity. It takes time, and, the Psalmist says, it is even work. "Work hard at it," he says. But if you know relationships, you know that the time invested is not only worthwhile but necessary. And there comes a point where we cannot manage without. Then, all our activities and priorities revolve around that relationship. That's how it must be with us and God. That's when we know not only God, but peace, a peace beyond all else we have ever known.<o:p></o:p></div>
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May the God of peace give you the courage to take Him into you Heart today and keep Him. May the God of peace find rest in your soul. And you in His.<o:p></o:p></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-27973452926749314962020-04-16T20:15:00.000-07:002020-04-19T19:14:44.610-07:00Seeing God<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>Psalm 16:11 “You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”</i><o:p></o:p></div>
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When I think of God, it is often as a father—a deeply-loving, ever-caring, continually-giving, yet all-the-while-firm father. One just like my own earthly father. Our relationship was a special one, and because of him, I have a clearer picture of my Heavenly Father. My dad loved me so much, and knew me so well, he only had to hear my voice over the phone to know if I was hurting. And he only had to say "I love you, Rondi," for me to feel him put his arms around me once again as he used to do when I was a little girl at home. I think God is like my dad—knowing me, loving me, encouraging me, strengthening me, guiding me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But I think God is also like my mother. Now, she is one of my very best friends, but when I was growing up, she was feeding me, clothing me, teaching me, playing with me, and—all too often it seemed then—disciplining me. I remember her saying every time she spanked me, (which wasn't often, of course) "this hurts Mommy more than it does you." And in truth, it probably did, for I did not meekly yield myself to the paddle. By the time she was finished, we would both be crying. "Rondi, I'm doing this because I love you," she'd say. Then she would hold me on her lap and cry with me. I couldn't quite understand that kind of love when I was little. I couldn't see why, if she loved me so much, she had to make rules that didn't make sense, and then punish me for breaking them. As I look back on it now, it all makes sense. And I know God is a lot like my mother—so patient, so gentle, so tender. I know, too, that God was there for her then, doing what she was—and still is—doing for me: showing me a clearer vision and understanding of true love, a love that keeps on loving under every circumstance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But God is more to me than a parent—loving and disciplining, caring and providing. He's a creator, an artist, a musician. He's serious about what He does, but He enjoys it and wants others to enjoy it, too. I can imagine Him in the early springtime, hiding behind a newly budding tree, grinning with excitement as someone delightedly discovers the first cactus bloom or a delicate golden daffodil braving the still-cool March winds. I can imagine Him in the summer, basking in the sun at the beach, His eyelids drooping lazily, a smile playing at the corners of His mouth as He hears the shrieks of laughter from children jumping the waves. I see Him scuffling His feet through the leaves in autumn and drinking deeply of the crisp, clear fall night, gazing at the myriad of stars overhead. I see Him in winter, delighting in each perfect, tiny snowflake—perhaps even pausing to throw a few snowballs. I see Him marveling at the skill and agility of the skier flying down the slope; hear Him sighing with satisfaction at a winter sunset. And I see Him looking around and smiling upon discovering that He's not alone in admiring the beauty—<u>His</u> beauty.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I see Him in the orchestra pit, waving His arms enthusiastically alongside the conductor. I see Him in the horn section, playing for all He's worth. I hear Him in the choir, His mellow baritone blending and soaring with the rest of the voices. I see Him in the audience, standing, with tears in His eyes too, listening to the triumph of the Hallelujah Chorus.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I see Him on the ball field, running hard and fast into the end-zone, or making a flying leap to catch a would-be home run. I see Him on the basketball court making a three-point jump-shot from the outside corner. And I see Him in the crowd—watching from the edge of His seat, and cheering.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I see Him in the work place, standing beside each one and encouraging them to give their best to their task. I see Him taking His place behind the desk, taking care with every detail.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I see Him in the church sanctuary, perhaps sitting beside a discourage worshipper, or thinking about those in and out of the church. I see tears come into His eyes as He feels and understands the hurt in the hearts of so many. But I also see through those tears a love that does not quit, a love that only gives more because it receives less.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I see Him at every corner, watching, waiting, reaching out to those going by. I see the longing in His eyes to take your hand and mine and hold on—through the good times and the bad. I see Him. I feel Him nearby. Do you?<o:p></o:p></div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25720871.post-83935349532676186402020-04-14T20:20:00.000-07:002020-04-19T19:41:37.476-07:00The Person You Can Be<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Discipline.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Pressure.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Tension.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">What feelings do these words bring to you?</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Good?</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Bad?</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">Indifferent? </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">For me, they used to bring bad feelings--ones which got in the way of many things, including success and happiness sometimes.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">I haven't always dealt well with these three beasts, but over the years, I've learned the truth about a statement that now has a place of honor in the upper corner of the mirror in my room:</span></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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"You will never be the person you can be<o:p></o:p></div>
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if pressure, tension, and discipline are taken out of your life."</div>
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NEVER? NEVER be the person I can be? I learned this most vividly one summer a few years ago (well, more than a few). And, since I suspect that you are not unlike me, and that your lives are not unlike mine—rather full—I thought you might find my discovery a little helpful.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I got my Masters degree in English from Andrews University. That meant I had to spend summers there taking classes. If you've ever been in Berrien Springs in the summer, you will understand why I say this was NOT where I wanted to be in June, July, or August. But, there I was this particular summer—struggling with three-hour-long classes, two-hour-long tests, hundreds and hundreds of pages of reading—daily, 15-20 pages research papers (there were four to do in the eight-week semester). Yes, all that and much more, while trying, somehow, to maintain some sort of balance in my life. It wasn't easy. In fact, I thought it would be impossible. There was so much else I would rather have been doing—anything but reading and writing and researching . . .<o:p></o:p></div>
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It didn't help much, either, getting letters from friends who were telling me about their vacations spent at beaches, in Maine, swimming, waterskiing, sailing, hiking—having all sorts of fun—fun that I could not, would not, have that summer. Even an 8-hour a day job sounded better than spending hours and hours sitting in class during the day and hours and hours pouring over my studies at night. There were days when I just wanted to stay in bed and never get up. But there was always some deadline hanging over my head. And missing a day of summer school is like missing a week of regular school—something that just doesn't work.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Sometimes I felt angry and depressed because what I was studying had nothing to do with what I was doing with my "real" life (sound familiar?!). It bothered me that I had no real choice about what classes I was taking, or their content. I began to hate my classes, and resent my teachers for putting me through things which I thought were so unnecessary, so inconsequential to my life. And, I hated myself for hating everything that I was having to do. It became a vicious circle. And an unhealthy one.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It came to the point where I had to make a decision about how I was going to face my days. It really was no good to expend energy on hate of something that would still be there to do, regardless of my feelings and attitude. I realized, sooner rather than later, luckily, that I would have to make a change in my attitude if not my feelings. And so I started looking for the positive, for the purpose, for the one point that would make a difference for me moving forward. Some days this was harder than others. But the truth was that those days always went better if I gave them a chance. As the summer wound down, I found myself valuing my classes and my teachers more and more. Today, the lessons I learned that summer are lessons that I still use, that I have shared with students of my own now for more than 3 decades. Finding purpose in everything you do changes up everything you do. Even the act of looking for it changes your attitude and your vision. And that always makes a difference. <o:p></o:p></div>
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The Bible has some advice for us about our attitude in Philippians 4:8-9: <o:p></o:p></div>
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<b><sup>8-9 </sup></b>Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies” (<i>The Message</i>). In other words, cultivating a positive attitude about whatever you have to do gives you the opportunity to be the best person you can be.</div>
R. Aastruphttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05883779431075392296noreply@blogger.com0