Left to right...My mom, my grandma, my aunt - it almost makes me feel like doing Christmas all over again. So cute...very shabby chic.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
An Aging Woman's Prayer
Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older, and will some day be old.Keep me from getting talkative, and particularly from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and every occasion. Release me from craving to try to straighten out everybody's affairs. Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details - give me wings to get to the point. I ask for grace enough to listen to the tales of others' pain. Help me endure them with patience; but seal my lips on my own aches and pains - they are increasing, and my love of rehearsing them becomes sweeter as the years go by. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally it is possible that I may be mistaken. Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint - some of them are so hard to live with - but a sour old woman is one of the crowning works of the devil. Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
IRISH PROVERBS
*A change of work is as good as a rest.
*Trouble hates nothing as much as a smile.
*May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.
*A good retreat is better than a bad stand.
*Time is a great story teller.
*The work praises the man.
*There is light at the end of the tunnel.
*Continual cheerfulness is a sign of wisdom.
*You will never plough a field if you only turn it over in your mind.
*A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor's book.
*Better be safe than sorry.
*What the child sees, the child does. What the child does, the child is.
*There is no fireside like your own fireside.
*There is no luck except where there is discipline.
*Don't postpone a good deed.
*Making the beginning is one third of the work.
*Castles were built a stone at a time.
*A cabin with plenty of food is better than a hungry castle.
*A quiet tongue shows a wise head.
*Trouble hates nothing as much as a smile.
*May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live.
*A good retreat is better than a bad stand.
*Time is a great story teller.
*The work praises the man.
*There is light at the end of the tunnel.
*Continual cheerfulness is a sign of wisdom.
*You will never plough a field if you only turn it over in your mind.
*A good laugh and a long sleep are the best cures in the doctor's book.
*Better be safe than sorry.
*What the child sees, the child does. What the child does, the child is.
*There is no fireside like your own fireside.
*There is no luck except where there is discipline.
*Don't postpone a good deed.
*Making the beginning is one third of the work.
*Castles were built a stone at a time.
*A cabin with plenty of food is better than a hungry castle.
*A quiet tongue shows a wise head.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
These lines from Longfellow suggest some self-searching:
For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year’s nest!
Often we regret and brood about past decisions – what we should or shouldn’t have done. Or we think of what we should now be doing and are not doing, of what we would like to learn, and it makes us uneasy.
We regret misunderstandings – words we wish we hadn’t said, words we wish we had said, mistakes we have made, people we have offended, opportunities gone by, errors and carelessness that could have been avoided, places we might have gone, things we might have been.
The past has its place and is valuable for lessons learned. The present also has its place, and what we cannot change should not now needlessly keep us from looking and moving forward. Nothing lost or left behind should keep us from now becoming what we can become, from learning what we now can learn.
There are new decisions every day, every hour, and reasons to improve and to repent. Whatever we are, wherever we’ve been, each day we have some opportunity to determine direction.
Each day we need to win, or keep – and certainly to deserve – the love of loved ones; each day to be more patient, more pleasant, more understanding. If there have been loved ones neglected, unreconciled differences, unspoken gratitude, unacknowledged debts, we ought to do now what we should do. If there has been within something that has soured us, we well would turn now to sweetening ourselves, for we hurt ourselves as well as others when we live below the level of our possibilities.
Whatever the past or its meaning, or its length, or its losses, or its lessons learned or left unlearned, we go on from where we are – wherever we are – and become what we can become; with work, repentance, improvement; with faith in the future.
“For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year’s nest!”
For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year’s nest!
Often we regret and brood about past decisions – what we should or shouldn’t have done. Or we think of what we should now be doing and are not doing, of what we would like to learn, and it makes us uneasy.
We regret misunderstandings – words we wish we hadn’t said, words we wish we had said, mistakes we have made, people we have offended, opportunities gone by, errors and carelessness that could have been avoided, places we might have gone, things we might have been.
The past has its place and is valuable for lessons learned. The present also has its place, and what we cannot change should not now needlessly keep us from looking and moving forward. Nothing lost or left behind should keep us from now becoming what we can become, from learning what we now can learn.
There are new decisions every day, every hour, and reasons to improve and to repent. Whatever we are, wherever we’ve been, each day we have some opportunity to determine direction.
Each day we need to win, or keep – and certainly to deserve – the love of loved ones; each day to be more patient, more pleasant, more understanding. If there have been loved ones neglected, unreconciled differences, unspoken gratitude, unacknowledged debts, we ought to do now what we should do. If there has been within something that has soured us, we well would turn now to sweetening ourselves, for we hurt ourselves as well as others when we live below the level of our possibilities.
Whatever the past or its meaning, or its length, or its losses, or its lessons learned or left unlearned, we go on from where we are – wherever we are – and become what we can become; with work, repentance, improvement; with faith in the future.
“For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year’s nest!”
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
ON PERSISTANCE...
"That which we persist in doing becomes easier for us to do; not that the nature of the thing itself is changed, but that our power to do is increased."
-Heber J. Grant
-Heber J. Grant
Monday, February 28, 2005
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Friday, February 25, 2005
I wish I wrote this, but I didn't.....
To most of us, life is a series of mirrors wherein every situation, every person, is perceived in terms of self-interest: “How will that affect me?” “What can he do for me?”
The Master’s life was a series of windows. He was totally “extra-centered” or “other-centered” instead of being self-centered. He came to teach us, to help us, to cure us, to love us, to save us. And he lost himself in those tasks. It was Emerson who said, “See how the masses of men worry themselves into nameless graves, while here and there a great, unselfish soul forgets himself into immortality.” Certainly the Savior is the ultimate, literal example.
Jesus Christ not only died for us, he lived for us. Wanting only to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man, he had not the slightest personal ambition. He was uninterested in praise or publicity; except for the reward of our eternal happiness, he didn’t care about reward.
Because of this, and because of who he was, the Savior saw into people – into their fears, their sins, their feelings, their potential. He saw behind the impetuousness into the strength of a Peter. He saw past the hated occupation into the loyalty of Matthew. He saw through the sins and weaknesses of all mankind into their eternal potential and into their sonship with God and their brotherhood with himself.
Knowing that Christ was perfect implies knowing that he was totally free from the sin of selfishness, a sin that holds or has held (at least partially) every other resident this earth has ever had. Selfishness is the dimming, darkening blanket flung softly and silently across our minds by Satan. Its forces of dark win many battles against the light brigades of charity and love. But though those forces win many battles they will lose the ultimate war because (in eternal time) “charity never faileth”; and the “extra-centeredness,” the love, the windows shown us by Christ, will someday (a thousand-year day) transform this earth to a paradise, cresting on Christ’s charity and submerging Satan’s selfishness.
Not only did our Lord love all mankind, he loved each of mankind. He spoke in different ways and with different analogies, depending on the nature and understanding of his listeners. He viewed and judged and taught each man according to that person’s unique situation. He praised the man who doubled two talents to four, and held him equal with the man who turned five into ten. He was as aware of the momentary opportunities to teach individuals as he was of his chances to speak to masses.
Men walk about in the world, their minds filled with “island thoughts” of themselves, of their territory. By comparison, Christ’s thoughts were more like the sea – they surrounded and included the needs of all men, touching each, caring for each.
Never were the Savior’s “windows” so powerfully obvious as when, in the very midst of Gethsemane’s agony, he recognized as teaching moment with a disciple and gave what was needed – a lesson about willing spirit and weak flesh (see Mark 14:37-38). How could a man, bent under the assumption of mankind’s sins, still think at that moment of an individual’s needs? How, indeed! How could any man?
The final-line message of the Master’s extra-centeredness is the sure feeling that if there had been only one person to save on this earth, only me or only you, Jesus Christ would still have made his great sacrifice for me or for you.
The Master’s life was a series of windows. He was totally “extra-centered” or “other-centered” instead of being self-centered. He came to teach us, to help us, to cure us, to love us, to save us. And he lost himself in those tasks. It was Emerson who said, “See how the masses of men worry themselves into nameless graves, while here and there a great, unselfish soul forgets himself into immortality.” Certainly the Savior is the ultimate, literal example.
Jesus Christ not only died for us, he lived for us. Wanting only to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man, he had not the slightest personal ambition. He was uninterested in praise or publicity; except for the reward of our eternal happiness, he didn’t care about reward.
Because of this, and because of who he was, the Savior saw into people – into their fears, their sins, their feelings, their potential. He saw behind the impetuousness into the strength of a Peter. He saw past the hated occupation into the loyalty of Matthew. He saw through the sins and weaknesses of all mankind into their eternal potential and into their sonship with God and their brotherhood with himself.
Knowing that Christ was perfect implies knowing that he was totally free from the sin of selfishness, a sin that holds or has held (at least partially) every other resident this earth has ever had. Selfishness is the dimming, darkening blanket flung softly and silently across our minds by Satan. Its forces of dark win many battles against the light brigades of charity and love. But though those forces win many battles they will lose the ultimate war because (in eternal time) “charity never faileth”; and the “extra-centeredness,” the love, the windows shown us by Christ, will someday (a thousand-year day) transform this earth to a paradise, cresting on Christ’s charity and submerging Satan’s selfishness.
Not only did our Lord love all mankind, he loved each of mankind. He spoke in different ways and with different analogies, depending on the nature and understanding of his listeners. He viewed and judged and taught each man according to that person’s unique situation. He praised the man who doubled two talents to four, and held him equal with the man who turned five into ten. He was as aware of the momentary opportunities to teach individuals as he was of his chances to speak to masses.
Men walk about in the world, their minds filled with “island thoughts” of themselves, of their territory. By comparison, Christ’s thoughts were more like the sea – they surrounded and included the needs of all men, touching each, caring for each.
Never were the Savior’s “windows” so powerfully obvious as when, in the very midst of Gethsemane’s agony, he recognized as teaching moment with a disciple and gave what was needed – a lesson about willing spirit and weak flesh (see Mark 14:37-38). How could a man, bent under the assumption of mankind’s sins, still think at that moment of an individual’s needs? How, indeed! How could any man?
The final-line message of the Master’s extra-centeredness is the sure feeling that if there had been only one person to save on this earth, only me or only you, Jesus Christ would still have made his great sacrifice for me or for you.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
"What Manner of Man" - Meridian Magazine
I just read this tonight on www.Meridianmagazine.com and liked this about the Savior:
Picture the Master sitting by the seaside as the sun sets; in a boat a little way out, speaking to the multitude on the shore; on the side of a mountain, alone in prayer; going out of the city’s dust and clamor to the peaceful beauty of Bethany; winding his way through a golden cornfield; withdrawing to the wilderness to pray.
Now hear the imagery of his words:
“How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings” (Matthew 23:37)
“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow … even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” (Matthew 6:28-29)
“The wind bloweth where it listeth.” (John 3:8)
“Her branch is yet tender, and putteth forth leaves.” (Mark 13:28)
He spoke of putting “a new piece of cloth unto an old garment” and of “children of light” (Matthew 9:16; John 12:36).
All that the Lord did has a clarity, a beauty, a sensitivity, and harmony with nature and earth. All that he said had the poetic qualities of awareness and vividness.
How in tune the Lord was! How in touch, how in time!
I wondered for years why it was that his sensitivity and love for the earth went so far beyond that of any man. Then one day I heard the phrase, “We love what we have made.” The Lord saw beauty in all things partly because he put beauty in all things.
He loved nature – the fresh, the good, the pure, the majestic. He went alone to the mountains, to the seashore, to the deserts to regenerate, to be recharged by the calm serenity of his earth and by the peace of its spirit.
Ponder how such retreats could precede great outpourings of the Holy Spirit. (From the desert he comes, preaching with new power. From the seaside he comes, curing and healing. From the mountains he comes, walking on water.)
It has been said that poets can speak with true beauty only about the things they love. The Master loved all, and loved us all, and therefore was the most sensitive and beautiful poet of all time.
Picture the Master sitting by the seaside as the sun sets; in a boat a little way out, speaking to the multitude on the shore; on the side of a mountain, alone in prayer; going out of the city’s dust and clamor to the peaceful beauty of Bethany; winding his way through a golden cornfield; withdrawing to the wilderness to pray.
Now hear the imagery of his words:
“How often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings” (Matthew 23:37)
“Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow … even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.” (Matthew 6:28-29)
“The wind bloweth where it listeth.” (John 3:8)
“Her branch is yet tender, and putteth forth leaves.” (Mark 13:28)
He spoke of putting “a new piece of cloth unto an old garment” and of “children of light” (Matthew 9:16; John 12:36).
All that the Lord did has a clarity, a beauty, a sensitivity, and harmony with nature and earth. All that he said had the poetic qualities of awareness and vividness.
How in tune the Lord was! How in touch, how in time!
I wondered for years why it was that his sensitivity and love for the earth went so far beyond that of any man. Then one day I heard the phrase, “We love what we have made.” The Lord saw beauty in all things partly because he put beauty in all things.
He loved nature – the fresh, the good, the pure, the majestic. He went alone to the mountains, to the seashore, to the deserts to regenerate, to be recharged by the calm serenity of his earth and by the peace of its spirit.
Ponder how such retreats could precede great outpourings of the Holy Spirit. (From the desert he comes, preaching with new power. From the seaside he comes, curing and healing. From the mountains he comes, walking on water.)
It has been said that poets can speak with true beauty only about the things they love. The Master loved all, and loved us all, and therefore was the most sensitive and beautiful poet of all time.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
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