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There was a man who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn
not to judge things too quickly. So he sent them each on a quest,
in turn, to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance
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The first son went in the winter, the second in the spring, the
third in summer, and the youngest son in the fall. When they
had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe
what they had seen.
The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted.
The second son said no-it was covered with green buds and full
The third son disagreed, he said it was laden with blossoms that
smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful, it was the most graceful
thing he had ever seen.
The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and
drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfillment.
The man then explained to his sons that they were all right, because
they had each seen but ONLY one season in the tree’s life. He told
them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season,
and that the essence of who they are – and the pleasure, joy, and
love that come from that life – can only be measured at the end,
when all the seasons are up.
If you give up when it’ s winter, you will miss the promise
of your spring, the beauty of your summer, fulfillment of
Don’t let the pain of one season destroy the joy of all the rest.
Don’t judge life by one difficult season.
Persevere through the difficult patches and better times are
sure to come some time or later.
It all depends on how we look at things, and not on how things are in themselves.
The least of things with a meaning is worth more in life than the greatest of things without it.
~ Carl Jung ~
Flowers often grow more beautifully on dung-hills than in gardens that look beautifully kept.
~ Saint Francis de Sales ~
♠ ♣ ♥ ♦ 12 Things to Remember ♠ ♣ ♥ ♦
- The value of time.
- The success of perseverance
- The pleasure of working.
- The dignity of simplicity.
- The worth of character
- The power of kindness.
- The influence of example.
- The obligation of duty.
- The wisdom of economy.
- The virtue of patience.
- The improvement of talent.
- The joy of origination
Each of these is worth considering with
regards to how we live our lives.
How can we grow in all of these attributes?
By associating with the wise and by
respecting the Word of God.
Proverbs 16:16 puts it this way:
“How much better to get wisdom than gold!
And to get understanding is to be chosen
rather than silver.”
Only through attaining godly wisdom can
we improve how we live our lives now and
ultimately find eternal happiness in God’s
*source : gnmagazine*
It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for, and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.
It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow; if you have been opened by life’s betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain! I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it, or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic; to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy. I want to know if you can see beauty even when it’s not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence. I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, “Yes!”
It doesn’t interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me who you know or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.
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I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and
if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.
by OriahMountainDreamer copyright © 1999 by Oriah Mountain Dreamer
And upon a day, while walking among the flowers of
his teacher’s garden, did the child speak unto the Mystic:
“Some men claim that this life
is the darkness of a curse,
and a punishment to be endured
for all our wicked ways.
Oh Mystic, what say you of life?”
And the Mystic answered:
“I say that life is neither a curse nor a punishment,
But a rose filled with the beauty of desire.
The stem of the rose is your life upon this earth,
The thorns, painful lessons you bring unto
yourself, that you might learn.
The leaves are those joys that enter
your life with the tenderness of an unseen Love.
Curse not the sorrow of your thorns,
for the deeper they cut unto the heart of
your being, the greener the leaves of joy shall be.
The tiny bud is your soul, waiting to
bloom with the truth of God among its petals.
Slowly will your flower unfold,
that you might not become lost
within the fragrance of its secret.
And when the rose is at the height of its beauty,
Shall you not see the pureness of God
smiling from the very center of your Being ?”
∞ ∞ ∞
*** The Battle Within ***
An old Cherokee describes an experience going on inside himself….
“It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves.
One is evil – he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity,
guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.
The other is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness,
benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith.
This same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”
The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather:
“Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”
Sorrow was beautiful, but his beauty was the beauty of the moonlight shining through the leafy branches of the trees in the woods. His gentle light made little pools of silver here and there on the soft green moss of the forest floor. And when he sang, his song was like the low, sweet calls of the nightingale, and in his eyes was the unexpectant gaze of someone who has ceased to look for coming gladness. He could weep in tender sympathy with those who weep, but to rejoice with those who rejoice was unknown to him.
Joy was beautiful, too, but hers was the radiant beauty of a summer morning. Her eyes still held the happy laughter of childhood, and her hair glistened with the sunshine’s kiss. When she sang, her voice soared upward like a skylark’s, and her steps were the march of a conqueror who has never known defeat. She could rejoice with anyone who rejoices, but to weep with those who weep was unknown to her.
Sorrow longingly said, “We can never be united as one.” “No, never,” responded Joy, with eyes misting as she spoke, “for my path lies through the sunlit meadows, the sweetest roses bloom when I arrive, and songbirds await my coming to sing their most joyous melodies.”
“Yes, and my path,” said Sorrow, turning slowly away, “leads through the dark forest, and moonflowers, which open only at night, will fill my hands. Yet, the sweetest of all earthly songs — the love song of the night — will be mine. So farewell, dear Joy, farewell.”
Yet even as Sorrow spoke, he and Joy became aware of someone standing beside them. In spite of the dim light, they sensed a Kingly Presence, and suddenly a great and holy awe overwhelmed them. They then sank to their knees before Him.
“I see Him as the King of Joy,” whispered Sorrow, ” for on His head are many crowns, and the nailprints in His hands and feet are the scars of great victory. And before Him all my sorrow is melting away into deathless love and gladness. I now give myself to Him forever.”
“No, Sorrow,” said Joy softly, “for I see Him as the King of Sorrow, and the crown on His head is a crown of thorns, and the nailprints in His hands and feet are the scars of terrible agony. I also give myself to Him forever, for sorrow with Him must be sweeter than any joy I have ever known.”
Sorrowful, yet always rejoicing – 2 Corinthians : 6 : 10
“Then we are one in Him,” they cried in gladness, “for no one but He could unite Joy and Sorrow.” Therefore they walked hand in hand into the world, to follow Him through storms and sunshine, through winter’s severe cold and warmth of summer’s gladness, and to be “sorrowful, yet always rejoicing.”
Does Sorrow lay his hand upon your shoulders,
And walk with you in silence on life’s way,
While Joy, your bright companion once, grown colder,
Becomes to you more distant day by day?
Run not from the companionship of Sorrow,
He is the messenger of God to thee;
And you will thank Him in His great tomorrow —
For what you do not know now, you will then see;
He is God’s angel, clothed in veils of night,
With whom “we walk by faith” and “not by sight”
2 Corinthians : 5 : 7