No Name Bashing


To avoid name bashing let me just say this about that.

A few years ago a well known journalist and TV personality called the new appointment of a politician “A disaster wrapped in a calamity!”

Can anyone relate…without name bashing? Happy Saturday.

Is God Great or What?!?


I hope you are not tired of hearing my God stories because He is one of my favourite topics. This came my way yesterday and is too good not to share:

  • When God Sends You Help, Don’t Ask Questions
     She hurried to the pharmacy to get medication, got back to her car and found that she had locked her keys inside.  The woman found an old rusty coat hanger left on the ground.  She looked at it and said, “I don’t know how to use this.” She bowed her head and asked God to send her some help. Within 5 minutes a beat-up old motorcycle pulled up, driven by a bearded man who was wearing an old biker skull rag.  He got off of his cycle and asked if he could help.  She said:  “Yes, my daughter is sick. but I’ve locked my keys in my car.  I must get home.  Please, can you use this hanger to unlock my car?”He said, “Sure.”  He walked over to the car, and in less than a minute, the car door was open.  She hugged the man and through tears, softly said, “Thank you, God, for sending me such a very nice man.” The man heard her little prayer and replied, “Lady, I am not a nice man.  I just got out of prison yesterday; I was in prison for car theft.”  The woman hugged the man again, sobbing, “Oh, thank you, God!  You even sent me a professional.” Is God great or what!?!                  

When God Wants Your Attention


The following short story is another excerpt from My Precious Life, the book.

A banner heralding the message ‘I’ve found it! You can find it too!’ had been hanging in my teenage son’s room for several weeks. Whenever I looked at it I wondered what it meant. I asked my son but he didn’t know. Someone had given it to him and posters are posters so up on the wall it went. It nibbled at my mind every time I looked at it. One evening my youngest son, then ten, asked “Mom, what does that sign mean?” “I don’t know,” I admitted, “but I’ll find out.”

At that precise moment the phone rang. It was a soft-spoken woman who asked, “Have you seen a sign around with the message ‘I’ve found it, you can find it too’?” The hair stood up on my arms and they began to tingle. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Yes” I timidly replied, “I have.” “Do you know what it means?” was her next question. “No,” I admitted, feeling the tingling sensation overwhelming my body. She went on to explain that it was a message from several inter-denominational churches attempting to lead people to, or back to God and the church.

As the conversation progressed my caller asked permission to pray with me. How could I say no? It was a simple prayer, then she thanked me for listening, saying mine was the first positive response she had received after many calls. When I told her why, she was silent for a moment before quietly stating, “God does work in mysterious ways.” It was to be a life changing moment for me but I didn’t know it then.

Not long after that one of my youngest son’s friends asked him to go to church with him and his mother. He enjoyed going to Sunday school with his friend. One Sunday as he was getting ready to leave he said, “Mom, if you come to church with me today you will get a rose. All the moms who come will get one.” “Not today, dear,” I replied, “I have a lot to do. You run along.” I turned back to reading the newspaper. Suddenly, I found myself racing up the stairs. “Wait for me,” I called, “I’ll go with you!” Slipping into something suitable I was ready in no time. It was the strangest feeling; almost like invisible hands were gently nudging me along.

After the service my son introduced me to his teacher. She told me he had shared the banner story with the class. “When he got to the part about the phone call,” she said, “my senses came alive. It was I who called you, Mrs. Boyes. I made many, many calls that night and yours was the only positive response.” “What a blessing to have you and your son with us this morning.”

That was the beginning of my real spiritual journey. I learned how to listen for the still, small voice of God. I learned how to pray effectively. I learned how to look for the miracles in everyday life. But most of all I learned that when God wants to get your attention he starts with a little nibble, patiently waits until you take the bait then reels you in hook, line and sinker.

My son now works in an environment where helping people is the main criteria. His friend became a full time minister. As for me, I don’t just go to church, I am involved in many ways. I still love listening for the still, small voice and when He says, “You go, girl,” He’s got my attention.

Dealing With a Mouse in the House


Here’s a sample of a short chapter from my book, My Precious Life, published in 2014. It’s about a pesky mouse who wouldn’t be caught dead in a mouse trap.

A MOUSE IN THE HOUSE

We have a mouse in the house.

I call him Mercury because he is as elusive as the substance in a pre-digital thermometer. Have you ever broken a mercury thermometer and tried to clean up the spill? It’s tricky.

And I truly believe the little beastie has been to mouse school. He knows every trap in the book and every food in the trap.

At breakfast I put a bit of peanut butter in the trap. It’s still there at lunch time. I replace it with a piece of cheddar cheese.

Meat loaf is his choice for dinner. None of these foods whets his appetite and I wonder what he is living on. When I’m engrossed in writing my “best seller” I catch a blur of movement out of the corner of my eye. Merc runs down the hall, stops at my door, gives me the beady eye and keeps on going.

My chair hits the floor with a mighty thud as I clumsily jump up in pursuit. But he has disappeared from sight.

Watching the late night news in bed I hear a scratching sound coming from one of the drawers in my dresser. I turn down the T.V. volume to make sure the noise isn’t part of the program.

Nope, it’s coming from the top left drawer. I slowly pull it open and there’s Mercury sitting among my tee shirts. I swear he winked at me. I have to think of a way to catch him.

I grab a beach towel from the linen closet, throw it over clothes and mouse, scoop everything up and run for the door. Mercury jumps out of the bundle, scurries across the floor and disappears once more.

This has been going on for months. He is simply uncatchable.

We’re having a party on Saturday night.

I don’t know whether to warn everyone of the mouse in the house or just let them find out for themselves.

I’m sure Mercury will love the chocolate cake and ice cream. It won’t be set in a trap and he is such a people creature he is bound to be the life of the party.

I can just see the ladies scrambling for chairs to stand on, and the age old question, “Are you a man or a mouse?” being answered once and for all as the gents dash for the nearest exit.

Tomorrow: When God Wants Your Attention

A Concept of God?


This came my way yesterday and to my mind certainly provides food for thought. Happy Sunday.

  • In a mother’s womb were two babies. One asked the other: “Do you believe in life after delivery?” The other replied, “Why, of course. There has to be something after delivery. Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later.”

    “Nonsense,” said the first. “There is no life after delivery. What kind of life would that be?”

    The second said, “I don’t know, but there will be more light than here. Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths. Maybe we will have other senses that we can’t understand now.”

    The first replied, “That is absurd. Walking is impossible. And eating with our mouths? Ridiculous! The umbilical cord supplies nutrition and everything we need. But the umbilical cord is so short. Life after delivery is to be logically excluded.”

    The second insisted, “Well I think there is something and maybe it’s different than it is here. Maybe we won’t need this physical cord anymore.”

    The first replied, “Nonsense. And moreover, if there is life, then why has no one ever come back from there? Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery, there is nothing but darkness and silence and oblivion. It takes us nowhere.”

    “Well, I don’t know,” said the second, “but certainly we will meet Mother and she will take care of us.”

    The first replied “Mother? You actually believe in Mother? That’s laughable. If Mother exists then where is She now?”

    The second said, “She is all around us. We are surrounded by her. We are of Her. It is in Her that we live. Without Her, this world would not and could not exist.”

    Said the first: “Well I don’t see Her, so it is only logical that She doesn’t exist.”

    To which the second replied, “Sometimes, when you’re in silence and you focus and listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.”

    Maybe this was one of the best explanations of the concept of GOD.

Open to Trust


Look at this picture. How do these little ones know that what Mama Robin is holding in her beak is something they should be holding their mouths wide open for? That’s trust.

Bird Watching Can Be A Fun Hobby For People Of All Ages.

Everyone on Planet Earth could have known it at one time … may we own the opportunity to be open to trust once again. Happy Saturday.

A Touch of Profundity


Covid-19 has offered up an immense window of opportunity for abundant reading for me. Yesterday, I picked up four books at the library and delved into the smallest one first, the title of which is Inner and Outer Peace by Sri Chinmoy, a spiritual teacher who dedicated his life in service to aspiring humanity.

“World peace can be achieved, revealed, offered and manifested on earth when in each person the power of love replaces the love of power.”

Profound?

And again…”One who knows others is wise; one who knows himself is wisest. One who conquers others is strong; one who conquers himself is strongest.” Tao Teh Ching

This book looks like a good, short read with more than a touch of profundity.

The Farmer’s Grace


The story belonging to today’s title is laid out below. It came to me from a friend via email, and like most things that inspire me, I’d like to share…

THE FARMER’S GRACE

An out-of-town pastor had been invited to a men’s breakfast in the middle of a rural farming area, and found himself charmed by the company and atmosphere. Before they all dug into the hearty meal, the group’s leader asked an older farmer, decked out in bib overalls, to say grace.

“Lord, I hate buttermilk,” the fellow began. The pastor opened an eye to glance at him, wondering where this might be going.

“Lord, I hate lard!” the farmer proclaimed. Now the pastor was growing concerned.

“And Lord, you know I don’t much care for raw flour,” he went on, without missing a beat.

The pastor once again opened an eye to peer around the room, and noticed many of the other men shifting in their seats uncomfortably.

“But Lord,” the farmer added, “when you mix them all together and bake them, I do love them warm fresh biscuits.

It works out not makes sense 3.jpg

“So Lord, when things come up that we don’t like, when life gets hard, when we don’t understand what you’re saying to us, help us to just relax and wait until you are done mixing and baking. It will probably be even better than biscuits. Amen.”

How about that for great, down-to-earth wisdom worth considering when it comes to complicated situations?

While we find ourselves in a mix-up of so many things we don’t understand, like the farmer, ‘really care for’, as we pray, trust and believe surely—as surely as God is God—something good will result.

Courtesy of The Anglican Parish of Haliburton.

A Broader Range


While watching the birds go about their busyness of finding food this morning, this poem formed in my mind about how some things never change and how some things do.

A BROADER RANGE

As the birds were having breakfast

tiny bugs were being eaten,

floors were being swept

while rugs were being beaten.

The men about their business

were bringing home the pay

while women reared the children

whose job it was to play.

Birds still eat bugs for breakfast

the housework still gets done

the men still go to business

the children still have fun.

The moral of the story is

though some things do not change

the women in society

have gained a broader range.

A Must


Our sermon today is the last in a series on forgiveness and features the story of the prodigal son. It has been an eye-opening, heart-stirring, mind-opening series. Yesterday I found this picture and thought, how fitting for this Sunday’s post. To my way of thinking, to have a peaceful life, forgiveness is a must. Happy Sunday.

Fully Forgiven, Fully Free – J.S. Park: Hospital Chaplain ...