Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Inspirational 12/01/10 The Dime

The Dime
Author: Unknown

Bobby was getting cold sitting out in his back yard in the snow. Bobby didn't wear boots; he didn't like them and anyway he didn't own any. The thin sneakers he wore had a few holes in them and they did a poor job of keeping out the cold. Bobby had been in his backyard for about an hour already.  And, try as he might, he could not come up with an idea for his mother's Christmas gift. He shook his head as he thought,

"This is useless, even if I do come up with an idea, I don't have any money to spend."

Ever since his father had passed away three years ago, the family of five had struggled. It wasn't because his mother didn't care, or try, there just never seemed to be enough. She worked nights at the hospital, but the small wage that she was earning could only be stretched so far.

What the family lacked in money and material things, they more than made up for in love and family unity. Bobby had two older and one younger sister, who ran the house hold in their mother's absence. All three of his sisters had already made beautiful gifts for their mother.  Somehow it just wasn't fair. Here it was Christmas Eve already, and he had nothing.

Wiping a tear from his eye, Bobby kicked the snow and started to walk down to the street where the shops and stores were. It wasn't easy being six without a father, especially when he needed a man to talk to.  Bobby walked from shop to shop, looking into each decorated window. Everything seemed so beautiful and so out of reach.

It was starting to get dark and Bobby reluctantly turned to walk home when suddenly his eyes caught the glimmer of the setting sun's rays reflecting off of something along the curb. He reached down and discovered a shiny dime. Never before has anyone felt so wealthy as Bobby felt at that moment.  As he held his new found treasure, warmth spread throughout his entire body and he walked into the first store he saw.  His excitement quickly turned cold when the salesperson told him that he couldn't buy anything with only a dime.

He saw a flower shop and went inside to wait in line. When the shop owner asked if he could help him, Bobby presented the dime and asked if he could buy one flower for his mother's Christmas gift. The shop owner looked at Bobby and his ten cent offering.  Then he put his hand on Bobby's shoulder and said to him, "You just wait here and I'll see what I can do for you."  As Bobby waited he looked at the beautiful flowers and even though he was a boy, he could see why mothers and girls liked flowers.  The sound of the door closing as the last customer left jolted Bobby back to reality. All alone in the shop, Bobby began to feel alone and afraid.

Suddenly the shop owner came out and moved to the counter.  There, before Bobby's eyes, lay twelve long stem, red roses, with leaves of green and tiny white flowers all tied together with a big silver bow. Bobby's heart sank as the owner picked them up and placed them gently into a long white box.  "That will be ten cents young man." the shop owner said reaching out his hand for the dime.

Slowly, Bobby moved his hand to give the man his dime. Could this be true?  No one else would give him a thing for his dime!  Sensing the boy's reluctance, the shop owner added, "I just happened to have some roses on sale for ten cents a dozen. Would you like them?"  This time Bobby did not hesitate, and when the man placed the long box into his hands, he knew it was true. Walking out the door that the owner was holding for Bobby, he heard the shop keeper say, "Merry Christmas, son."

As he returned inside, the shop keeper's wife walked out. "Who were you talking to back there and where are the roses you were fixing?"

Staring out the window, and blinking the tears from his own eyes, he replied, "A strange thing happened to me this morning. While I was setting up things to open the shop, I thought I heard a voice telling me to set aside a dozen of my best roses for a special gift. I wasn't sure at the time whether I had lost my mind or what, but I set them aside anyway.  Then just a few minutes ago, a little boy came into the shop and wanted to buy a flower for his mother with one small dime. When I looked at him, I saw myself, many years ago. I too, was a poor boy with nothing to buy my mother a Christmas gift. A bearded man, whom I never knew, stopped me on the street and told me that he wanted to give me ten dollars.  When I saw that little boy tonight, I knew who that voice was, and I put together a dozen of my very best roses."

The shop owner and his wife hugged each other tightly, and as they stepped out into the bitter cold air, they somehow didn't feel cold at all.

May this story instill the spirit of Christmas in you enough to pass this act along.

“Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this, To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world.” - James 1:27 

“Reine en onbesmette godsdiens voor God en die Vader is dít: om wese en weduwees in hulle verdrukking te besoek en jouself vlekkeloos te bewaar van die wêreld.” - James 1:27 

*****************************************
In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard


When forwarding / copying, please include the entire message.


To subscribe please send an email to:

Sherrys_Inspirational-subscribe@googlegroups.com

We invite you to visit our website at:
http://groups.google.com/group/Sherrys_Inspirational

Monday, November 29, 2010

Inspirational 11/30/10 The Dog Who Ate Christmas


The Dog Who Ate Christmas
By Theresa Willingham

Our dog recently ate 7 ounces of Baker's chocolate and a half-ounce of gourmet ground coffee and swallowed a marble, to boot. None of these things is part of recommended canine diet. Chocolate is toxic to dogs - a 1-ounce square of Baker's chocolate can kill a 10-pound dog, and it's a wonder 7 ounces didn't do in our 15-pound dachshund. Coffee holds the same dangers.

The whys and wherefores of this accident are irrelevant. Everyone feels badly enough already. The upshot of the whole thing is that the vet bills totaled more than $1,200. Coming on the heels of a rough year and a recent layoff, our little dog effectively ate Christmas.

On the way home from the vet with our pooch, groggy and sore after surgery to remove the offending blue marble, we joked gently about all the things that $1,200 could buy.

"Dexter ate a 24-inch flat screen LCD TV," my husband said, laughing.

"He ate a lot of video games," my son chimed in.

"He ate a used car," one of my daughters added.

"A very old and very used one," her father started to correct her. But then we remembered we'd sold our old car for $300 and agreed that Dexter had eaten the equivalent of four old minivans.

Once home, everyone fawned over our sick little dog without reproach, glad he was home and on the mend, the $1,200 and abandoned Christmas gift ideas irrelevant.

Because, truth be told, we're still in debt to Dexter for all he's done for us in the last couple of years.

We adopted him as something of immersion therapy for our then-10-year-old son, who was suffering from an increasingly unreasonable and debilitating fear of dogs. Like many phobias, cynaphobia, the medical term for fear of dogs, doesn't require any negative experiences to exist. Our son's fears had grown to such proportions he couldn't walk down the street or ride his bike without heart-racing anxiety on just seeing a dog.

When we adopted Dexter from a breed rescue group, he was a year and a half old, weighed 13 pounds and stood a foot high at the shoulders. Our daughters were delighted. Our son wouldn't come out of his room for three days. He crawled across the tops of chairs to get to the table to eat and then crawled back across them to return to his room.

On the fourth day, he sat on a stool and observed the dog, who looked back questioningly with those irresistible dark brown eyes of his. At the end of a week, our son was carrying the dog around the house. After a few weeks, he was more comfortable with other dogs. Now, two years later, he still doesn't care for large dogs, but he's not fearful and he roams the neighborhood with a confidence that's carried over to other areas of his life. He's playing piano, riding horses, doing well in his studies and generally a happy-go-lucky kid with a dog.

And that's just what Dexter did for our son.

Each person in the family has a special and unique relationship with the dog. He plays gently and obligingly with our son. With my rambunctious, outgoing daughter, he races and wrestles. He leans against my quiet daughter like a cat, savoring her strokes. And while originally suspicious of men, Dexter adores my husband. They play wild games of chase and spend warm devoted moments snoozing.

I had never owned a dog before and was concerned about how long I could be away from home; picking up after the dog in addition to the rest of the family, who at least could flush; annual shots; tags and whatever other dog ownership issues were bound to occur.

But I found that walks took on new meaning with a little dog trotting at my side. An occasionally bizarre meaning, as we sometimes stopped every few feet so Dexter could check what the girls called his "pee mail" at every post and trunk. But I walk more briskly and more often now.

And coming home has never been so rewarding! No one else in the family greets me so ecstatically and with such genuine joy. Whether I've been gone 15 minutes or a day, Dexter is enormously and unapologetically glad to see me. He's a cuddler, shamelessly squeezing between the desk and my lap while I work, cruising from lap to lap while we watch TV at night. He won't crawl into his bed until the last family member is in his or hers, and he lies curled up beside us until morning, when he starts his equal opportunity doting all over again.

He has taught us patience, charity and the value of forgiveness. He never holds grudges, whether his tail is accidentally stepped upon, or he's ordered out of the kitchen for being underfoot. He certainly didn't like the vet's office during the chocolate Incident. But when we came to take him home, he clearly didn't associate us with his aches and pains. Through the haze of drugs after his surgery, he wagged his tail vigorously when he saw us.

Dogs aren't for the shallow and self-absorbed. They're childlike but without the rowing cognizance and independence of children. We are always their heroes; they're always our friends. Even with three children and a quarter-century marriage, I didn't fully understand unconditional love until Dexter came into our lives. The obligation to live up to such devotion and loyalty can be a daunting task and a humbling experience.

Yes, our dog ate Christmas.  But the gifts he's given us are priceless and more enduring than anything we could ever put under the tree and more than we could ever repay.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Theresa Willingham is an occasional columnist for the North of Tampa regional edition of the Times. © Copyright 2002-2004, St. Petersburg Times

“For to him that is joined to all the living there is hope: for a living dog is better than a dead lion.” - Ecclesiastes 9:4 

“Want solank as iemand by al die lewendes behoort, is daar hoop; want ‘n lewendige hond is beter as ‘n dooie leeu.” - Ecclesiastes 9:4  
*****************************************
In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard

When forwarding / copying, please include the entire message.

To subscribe please send an email to:
Sherrys_Inspirational-subscribe@googlegroups.com

We invite you to visit our website at: http://groups.google.com/group/Sherrys_Inspirational

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Inspirational 11/30/10 The Christmas Envelope

The Christmas Envelope
Author: Unknown

It’s just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree for the past 10 years or so.


It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it. Overspending -- the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma -- the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else.


Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way.


Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended, and shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church, mostly black. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously could not afford. Well, we ended up walloping them, taking every weight class. As each of their boys got up from the mat, he swaggered around in his tatters with false bravado, a kind of street pride that couldn't acknowledge defeat.


Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly, I wish just one of them could have won; he said. They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them. Mike loved kids-all kids-and he knew them, having coached little league football, baseball and lacrosse.


That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes and sent them anonymously to the inner-city church. On Christmas Eve, I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years.


For each Christmas, I followed the tradition -- one year sending a group of mentally handicapped youngsters to a hockey game, another year a check to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and on and on.


The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure.


The story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to dreaded cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. But Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more.


Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation watching as their fathers take down the envelope. Mike's spirit, like the Christmas spirit, will always be with us.


May we all remember Christ, who is the reason for the season, and the true Christmas spirit this year and always.
“Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over, shall men give into your bosom. For with the same measure that ye mete withal it shall be measured to you again.” - Luke 6:38
“Gee, en aan julle sal gegee word. 'n Goeie maat wat ingedruk en geskud en oorlopend is, sal hulle in jul skoot gee, want met dieselfde maat waarmee julle meet, sal weer vir julle gemeet word.” - Luke 6:38
*****************************************
In His Service,
Sherry and Jim Heard
Sherry’s Inspirational list

MISSION STATEMENT: Our mission is to be the channel, not the source, through which we pray God’s blessings may flow to others. Our ministry is not to provide counseling, advice, or doctrinal interpretation. For this we refer you to local spiritual leaders who may know and deal with your needs more personally. It is our prayer that God may truly bless your day through the inspiration we seek to channel your way. In Him, Sherry and Jim Heard


When forwarding / copying, please include the entire message.


To subscribe please send an email to:

Sherrys_Inspirational-subscribe@googlegroups.com

We invite you to visit our website at: http://groups.google.com/group/Sherrys_Inspirational

Sunday, November 21, 2010

We are the Body

We are the Body
By: Sherry Heard
Today in service some of the things that were said sparked a conversation on the way home. If we, as Christ followers, are the body of Christ then why would one organ criticize another? Think of it this way, the Baptists are the hands, the Pentecostals are the lungs, the (insert your favorite group of Christ followers here) are the feet. Now the feet can carry the entire body around. Without the lungs there is no oxygen and the hands do the work. Each is important, each performs a function, each is necessary. If we criticize each other then we become a cancer to the whole body. Support each other, love each other, and embrace our differences. We are all created in His image, but not all created the same. Our God is a God of variety that is why there is so much variety in people and nature. If we were all the same then there would be only lungs, hands or feet. That would be useless; one without the others can not accomplish much. We need each other and we need to work together to accomplish the work that God has for us. I do not want to be a cancer. Just because something is not OK for me does not mean it is not OK for everyone. If God reveals something to me, then that is for me. That is where the personal relationship comes in. We must have that personal, daily relationship. Something that comes from the pulpit is for the people in that service on that day. Something that comes to you individually in your own quiet time with God, now that is for you. Not for everyone. There may be people you wish to share that information with, but that does not mean it is for them unless it rings true in their spirit. I am speaking of believers criticizing other believers. God is great at convicting believers in their own spirit with His still small voice.