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.

A Wonderful Analogy


The following is a Face Book post sent to me by one of my granddaughters. It is attributed to Utmutato A Leleknek and is definitely worth sharing as others who have read it have pointed out. One of the Face Book posts shows the photo copied at the bottom of this page.  Enjoy the read.

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 has 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 you really listen, you can perceive Her presence, and you can hear Her loving voice, calling down from above.” – Útmutató a Léleknek

“I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)

On The Sidewalk of Life


On Monday of this week, I had the sad opportunity to attend the funeral of a fifty-two-year-old young man who was a long-time member of my church. Andrew was the epitome of good nature, good deeds, and good looks. He was also the recipient of ominous cardiovascular genetics. His father and brother both died of this deadly disease at a very early age. Although his mother also had the gene, she did live a longer life, and Andrew became her solitary caregiver after she suffered a stroke in her early seventies.

This young man took care of his mother in the same way she cared for him as a child. He was always by her side, taking her to movies, out to dinner, to church functions, and to church every Sunday. When Andrew smiled, it lit up a room; when he laughed, it could be heard clear across Scarborough, and if Andrew cried, nobody heard it.

And his good works didn’t stop with his mother. On one occasion, I met Andrew when he was shopping at a Superstore where I had just purchased a patio set of table, four chairs and an umbrella. Seeing me trying to cram this whole set into my little Kia Magentis, totally without success, Andrew promptly pulled his van up behind me and loaded my patio furniture into it. “Where to, Patricia?” he asked with his famous brilliant smile. He followed me to my house, unloaded my set, and offered to put it all together for me. But I declined that extra service and sent him on his way, with a huge hug of thanks, to get his mother’s groceries. Not long after that, Andrew’s mother suffered a major stroke which ended her life, and saw him handle the final act of seeing to his mom’s last wishes.

That’s how Andrew walked the sidewalk of life. Everything he did was from the goodness of his heart; one that never functioned physically the way it was meant to.

After his mother’s death, Andrew began admitting to having problems with his heart. In spite of that, he picked up the pieces of life without his mom, and carried on living with a new sense of freedom, when he wasn’t in hospital for one procedure or another.

And then Andrew was gone. A massive heart attack took him in his sleep. I’m told he knew his days were numbered, but not for one moment do I believe that he gave in to self pity. I’m told that on his final day on earth, he mentioned to a neighbour that he wasn’t feeling well but went about filling the bird bath and feeder so that his feathered friends were looked after. That’s the kind of guy he was.

As the clergyman who did his funeral service told us, this good natured young man got off the sidewalk of life and onto the stairway to Heaven.  And he only did so after a final act of kindness.

Can you imagine how many angels were waiting for Andrew at the top of that stairway?

 

 

 

 

On Being a Mother


I’ve recently met a young mom in “Bloggersville” who has three special gifts from God: boy/girl seventeen-year-old twins, and a fifteen-year-old daughter. She tells us that they keep her on her toes and on her knees. I can relate to that, having raised three daughters and two sons, all eighteen months to two years apart except for the youngest who came along seven years later. It was not an easy task, but would I trade it for anything else in the world? Not on your life…or mine! In 1977 after a particularly trying time coping with four teenagers and a ten-year-old (yes, Family to the 5 Power, I know where you’re coming from!) the words of one of my most popular poems came to me. Here then, is On Being a Mother.

Nobody warned you

How great was the task

Of being a mother

How long it would last

It’s no nine to five job

You don’t punch a clock

It isn’t routine

You have to take stock

There isn’t a pension

Or retirement plan

It’s all overtime

You supply on demand

But you know you’ve been paid

When your daughter or son

Softly kisses your cheek

Saying, “I love you, Mom.”

©1977

In my opinion, motherhood is the most important job in the world. Someone may argue that point and say, “Well, I happen to think rocket science or brain surgery is the most important job in the world.” Please be reminded that without a mother there would be no rocket scientist or brain surgeon. So Moms, keep on keeping on. Even though nobody warned you how great was the task, it is a great task.

 

A Dying Love


This is not what you might think it is when you read the title. It is not about love dying between two people; it is about the one who is the object of love dying. In this case it is about babies and their mothers. Here are two photos of mothers holding their sick infants, knowing that the end is near. Both babies died of unknown diseases, were the firstborn to both mothers and were baby boys. Notice the eye contact in each photo. When the pictures came my way, I immediately felt the poignancy and knew that some day I would have to write about them. Both mothers went on to give birth again; one had three more sons and two daughters and the other, three daughters. Neither mother ever forgot their experience of a dying love…and their love never died.