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Posted on 12/31/2010 11:42:24 PM PST by JustAmy
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Thank you for your kind words!
Yep, that me on the front of the sled!
Good night, Megs! Thanks for all your beautiful graphics
and inspiring words for Sunday chapel. :) ((((hugs))))
We love all the beautiful bouquets
you shared with us all
And, the kind, thoughtful words
You offered to everyone!
Sleep well, Meg,
And may angel dust
sprinkle you softly,
Giving you sweet dreams!
(((((((Thank you for the Blessing)))))))!
(((((((Many Hugs)))))))!
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Dear Beloved Friend, Thank You so much for your prayers for me and Mr. Kabong! I have the morning off due to a cancellation, so I was able to read your lovely prayers for us on yesterday’s thread.
Ooops, Somebody just called and wants me to repair one guitar and purchase another for the two little boys. There goes my morning off! LOLOLOLOL
(((HUGS HUGS HUGS))))
You sure stay busy! LOL!
God bless you and Mr. Kabong!
Good Morning Amy’s Place
IN GOD WE TRUST
This is too beautiful not to share
Turn on your sound. The video will advance on it’s own.
http://www.openmyeyeslord.net/theseasonsoflife.htm
Angel Flight
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GgkxiqKj0nU
God Bless our American Heros
It was VERY beautiful, and thank you!
(((HUGS)))
Thank you for your Blessing and for your FRiendship!
In the hectic downtown of one of Asia’s great cities, I marveled at the busy sidewalks filled with people. There seemed to be no room to move in the crush of humanity, yet it also seemed that everyone was moving at top speed.
My attention was drawn to the soft, almost mournful sound of a single trumpeter playing “Amazing Grace.” The crowds appeared oblivious to both the musician and the music. Still, he played—sending a musical message of the love of God out to whoever knew the song and would think about the words as he played.
I thought of this experience as a parable. The music seemed to be an invitation to the masses to follow Christ. As with the gospel message, some believe in God’s amazing grace and choose the narrow way. Others ignore His grace, which is the broad way that leads to everlasting destruction. Jesus said, “Enter by the narrow gate; for wide is the gate and broad is the way that leads to destruction, and there are many who go in by it. Because narrow is the gate and difficult is the way which leads to life, and there are few who find it” (Matt. 7:13-14).
Jesus died so that “whoever calls” on His name (Rom. 10:13) can find forgiveness in His grace.
The Gift of Your Time
“This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards
of the mysteries of God.” 1 Corinthians 4:9
It has been said, “Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take
but by the moments that take our breath away.”
A young man learns what’s most important in life from the guy next door.
It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls,
career, and life itself got in the way. In fact, Jack moved clear across
the country in pursuit of his dreams. There, in the rush of his busy life,
Jack had little time to think about the past and often no time to spend
with his wife and son. He was working on his future, and nothing could
stop him.
Over the phone, his mother told him, “Mr. Belser died last night. The
funeral is Wednesday.” Memories flashed through his mind like an old
newsreel, as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
“Jack, did you hear me?”
“Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It’s been so long since I thought of
him. I’m sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago,” Jack said.
“Well, he didn’t forget you. Every time I saw him he’d ask how you were
doing. He’d reminisce about the many days you spent over ‘his side of the
fence’ as he put it,” Mom told him.
“I loved that old house he lived in,” Jack said.
“You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make
sure you had a man’s influence in your life,” she said.
“He’s the one who taught me carpentry,” he said. “I wouldn’t be in this
business if it weren’t for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things
he thought were important. Mom, I’ll be there for the funeral,” Jack
said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his
hometown.
Mr. Belser’s funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his
own, and most of his relatives had passed away. The night before he had to
return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door,
one more time.
Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing
over into another dimension, a leap through space and time.
The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every
picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.
“What’s wrong, Jack?” his Mom asked.
“The box is gone,” he said.
“What box?” Mom asked.
“There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must
have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he’d ever tell me was
‘the thing I value most,’” Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered
it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had
taken it.
“Now I’ll never know what was so valuable to him,” Jack said. “I better
get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom.”
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from
work one day, Jack discovered a note in his mailbox.
“Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main
post office within the next three days,” the note read.
Early the next day, Jack retrieved the package.
The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years
ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught
his attention.
“Mr. Harold Belser” it read.
Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There,
inside, was the gold box and an envelope.
Jack’s hands shook as he read the note inside.
“Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett.
It’s the thing I valued most in my life.” A small key was taped to the
letter.
His heart racing, as tears filled his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the
box. There, inside, he found a beautiful gold pocket watch. Running his
fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these words engraved: “Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold
Belser.”
“The thing he valued most...was...my time.”
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared
his appointments for the next two days.
“Why?” Janet, his assistant asked.
“I need some time to spend with my son,” he said.
“Oh, by the way, Janet...thanks for your time!”
PRAYER:
Dear God, help me never to be so busy that I forget the value of giving my time to another. Amen
Sunny, thank you so much! You started of my day so perfectly - and I have forwarded this to many dear friends!
Have a wonderful Monday!
Good Morning, Johnn! Yummmmm - breakfast in Italy today!
You know, after a night of dancing (many, many years ago), my friends and I would go to a little all-night restaurant, and order steak, eggs and fries. But, the best part, was having a small bowl of the best brown gravy on the side - to dip our fries in.
I still do that to this day, occasionally - french fries, steak and eggs for breakfast, with a little bowl of brown gravy - just waiting for some tater-dippin’!
So, if your chef could muster up some brown gravy (best if made with au jus and thickened with corn starch), I would be delighted!
Have a wonderful Monday, JOHNN, and thank you!
“Good Brown Gravy” on the side coming your way!
Thank you. (Wish I could say I just had a night ‘out on the town’ - but those days are LONG gone!) LOL!
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