Just five more minutes, all I ask is five more minutes of a life that is forever lost

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.

“That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red sweater who was gliding down the slide.

“He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “What do you say we go, Melissa?”

Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.”

The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.”

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Life and how we respond to it is part of God's unique plan for our lives

An  FB friend, Gail Hansmeyer, shared the following, poignant ideas:

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"I was driving to an important appointment, but had a physio appointment that went on till after 08h00. Knowing it would take two hours to get to my next appointment at 10h00, I prayed that God would open the road ahead and give me favour to get there on time. The road I had to use had one lane in each direction, which opened up to two lanes at times. Heavy vehicles reduced traffic to a crawl, but every time I came up behind a truck the road split into two. I did not even have to slow down, and I arrived at my destination on time. It was just like the Red Sea crossing miracle!"

"My colleague had to do the same trip on the same road a few days later. She prayed the same prayer I had prayed, sayng, "Lord you did for Gail; please do so for me too. Unfortunately, her experience was quite different. Every time she got behind a truck, the road was in the single-lane phase, offering no double-lane relief. Needless to say she was upset - it seemed so unfair!"

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Win the battle in the air and you will experience victory on the ground

The battlefields of the heart and mind need a strategic perspective just as human battlefields do.

US military doctrine largely hinges on airpower. Ground wars are dangerous and technology can be countered by sheer numbers, as Napoleon and Hitler learnt in their wars against Russia. Technology can also breed over-dependence on a vulnerable resource.

So, as happened in most post World War II US theatres of war, airpower has become the key to tilting the balance in favor of US ground forces. The plan has been well honed. During Desert Storm, General Norman Schwarzkopf used air-cover in the first waves, to neutralize missiles and other fixed artillery points.

Most military forces have focused on building significant strike capabilities using manned and, more recently, unmanned aircraft. Stealth bombers like the B2 have enabled previously dangerous aerial targets to be engaged with relative impunity, whilst longer-range standoff weapons have enabled remote engagement from ships or aircraft operating outside the radius of fire.

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Costly, priceless, precious beyond measure ... is the church of the Living God

In a previous post I described a picture of a rich man's son. What to all others was valueless, because it was the amateur workmanship of a friend, was priceless to the father. So priceless was the son, that the gardener who successfully bid for the auctioned picture, secured the rich man's vast estate. In a nutshell, the rich man's will had said, "whoever takes the son, gets everything else."

My friend Jerry Hobbs, triggered a deeper set of thoughts about this illustration, when he argued that to many believers, value or pricelessness relates to the financial cost of the Christian institution, its buildings and other assets. No I am not having a go at Catholicism, because materialism is widespread in Christendom. It blurs all perspective for unbelievers, but many believers have been equally beguiled by its power.

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The simple sketch of a priceless life, became the priceless heirloom of a simple soul

My friend Arnold de Wet, a gifted musician, launched his latest CD last night. It was a great moment, but one of the highlights for me was the poignant story that Arnold shared.

He told of a very wealthy art collector, who first lost his wife and then subsequently lost his only son to war. As he tried to reassemble his broken world, he received a visitor. Before him stood a young man who had known the rich man's son and had also done a pencilled sketch of the boy before he died. He showed the drawing to the father, who saw beyond the amateur drawing to the heart behind it. It moved him enough to take the picture and frame it as a personal and moving tribute to his beloved son.

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Old and young 10: We will have to go a long way to have such fun

Old:

Sally, a difficult independent 75 year old, liked sitting by the park feeding the pigeons. One day she brought with her a whole bun of fresh bread just to feed her daily company. Little by little, pinch-by-pinch, she fed each pigeon with joy. She sat there without being noticed by anyone in our rich suburban neighborhood.

Then suddenly a man in his early 40's rained on my mom's parade by telling her that she shouldn't throw away good food on a bunch of pigeons that can find food anywhere... when there are a lot of people starving in Africa, says the stranger.

Then my mother said in crazed anger and without hesitation, "Well, sorry for you but I can't throw that far!"

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Old and young 9: We quote what we learn in school and we live what we learn from life

Old (some quotes):

- Age is a pretty high price to pay for maturity

- Ageing seems to be the only available way to live a long life

- At my age, I'm entitled to be grumpy!

- Don't let aging get you down - it's too hard to get back up!
- Don't worry about age - it's ugly you have to watch out for
- Don't worry about avoiding temptation - as you age it avoids you
- Don't worry about wrinkles, they're just antique smiles
- Few women admit their age. Few men act theirs
- Fortunately I'm too poor to have a mid-life crises
- Funny, I don't remember being absent minded
- For all the advances in modern medicine, there is still no cure for the common birthday.

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Old and young 8: Move closer and tell me your name

Old:

Sometimes a picture simply does account for a thousand words.

In the continuing  series of old and young we have read some rather humorous stories about old people and some weird answers from kids who say the craziest things in their exams. At both ends of life, there is enough reality and down-to-earthness to bring every aspect of life down with a bump and so restore perspective.

Yet it is never about laughing at people. Rather its about being real and learning to laugh at ourselves through whatever reality faces us. This is a tough life, made the more bearable by the humorous realities that cross our paths everyday, for which I so thank God. Without humor I am sure I would have crumbled years ago, but the funny things we say at home, overhear in our children or see in everyday life, keep us in touch with the ground and remind us of how small we are and how little we know. Thank you Lord for that.

Young (Exam answers):

Sources of exam answers: Unknown

Old and young 7: By day or night, their love ne'er grew cold

Old:

An elderly couple, still living in the same home after more than fifty years of marriage, were at the breakfast table one morning when she remarked, "My dear, do you remember the time when as newly weds we naughtily stripped off and ate our breakfast with no clothes on." She giggled delightfully at the memory, but he, the drier of the two, just softly chuckled and carried on eating his food. "Can't we do it again?" Reluctantly he agreed and so the two old, wrinkled souls sat in the morning sun enjoying sweet nothingness.

He was content to humor her, whilst enjoying his breakfast. She had other ideas. In a moment of passion she said, "My breasts are still hot for you my love".

At that, the old man finished a mouth full of coffee, slowly lowered his cup and then looked her in the eye to say, "Maybe my dear its because one of them is in the porridge and the other is in your coffee."

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Old and young 6: Xcuse me sir, can you tell me where I am?

Old:

Two elderly women were out driving in a large car - both could barely see over the dashboard. As they were cruising along, they came to an intersection. The stoplight was red, but they just went on through.

The woman in the passenger seat thought to herself "I must be losing it. I could have sworn we just went through a red light." After a few more minutes, they came to another intersection and the light was red again. Again, they went right through. The woman in the passenger seat was almost sure that the light had been red but was really concerned that she was losing it. She was getting nervous. At the next intersection, sure enough, the light was red and they went on through. So, she turned to the other woman and said, "Mildred, did you know that we just ran through three red lights in a row? You could have killed us both!"

Mildred turned to her and said, "Oh! Am I driving?"

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Old and young 5: Put your name on ice

Old:

Two elderly ladies had been friends for many decades. Over the years, they had shared all kinds of activities and adventures. Lately, their activities had been limited to meeting a few times a week to play cards.

One day, they were playing cards when one looked at the other and said, "Now don't get mad at me. I know we've been friends for a long time but I just can't think of your name. I've thought and thought, but I can't remember it. Please tell me what your name is."

Her friend glared at her. For at least three minutes she just stared and glared at her as her face and her glare became more intense.

Finally she said, "How soon do you need to Know?"

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A walk on the blind side

Sandra Bullock gave her career a major fillip in her role as Lee Ann Tuohy, the star role of the movie, "The Blind Side". I was never quite able to enjoy Ms Bullock, maybe because her career was spoilt by earlier silly roles. But she really does put that right in this great movie.

Her co-star, Quinton Aaron, plays the role of Michael Oher, a giant black boy who is given an outside chance in an upmarket Christian School. But he has no chance really, not as long as his core needs are left unresolved. Those needs include having no place to live, no bed to lie on, no regular supply of food, no ability to read or learn, no surname, no identity and a sadly diminished sense of self.

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So how does your garden grow?

Come to the garden alone, while the dew is still on the roses....

My brother sent these thoughts, just after I published a post about apple trees and what makes them bear fruit. It is timeous and relevant.

A garden needs thyme: Thyme for each other, thyme for family and thyme for friends

Plant three rows of peas: peas of mind, peas of heart and peas of soul

Add four rows of squash: Squash gossip, squash indifference, squash grumbling and squash selfishness

Plant some lettuce: Lettuce be faithful, lettuce be kind, lettuce be patient, lettuce really love one another

No garden can be wthout turnips: Turnip for meetings, turnip for service and turnip to help one another

Water with patience, cultivate with love. There will be much fruit because you will reap what you sow.

Source: Chris Missing

Old and young 4: Get your teeth into a Bond book or someone else

4Old:

An older couple were lying in bed one night. The husband was falling asleep but the wife was in a romantic mood and wanted to talk. She said: "You used to hold my hand when we were courting." Wearily he reached across, held her hand for a second and tried to get back to sleep. A few moments later she said: "Then you used to kiss me." Mildly irritated, he reached across, gave her a peck on the cheek and settled down to sleep..

Thirty seconds later she said: "Then you used to bite my Neck." Angrily, he threw back the bed clothes and got out of bed. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"To get my teeth!"

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Old and young 3: I said "expand", not stretch

Old:

Three retirees, each with a hearing loss, were playing golf one fine March day. One remarked to the other, "Windy, isn't it?" "No," the second man replied, "it's Thursday..." And the third man chimed in, "So am I. Let's have a beer."

So much for hearing ... what about listening. If only learners would listen and do what thair examiners ask them to do ... but then again, there is always an individual with a twisted sense of humour and they are always good for a laugh. Enough to make any teacher's day.

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Old and young 2: A happy wet boy and a not so happy back seat driver

Old

An elderly Floridian called 911 on her cell phone to report that her car has been broken into. She is hysterical as she explains her situation to the dispatcher: "They've stolen the stereo, the steering wheel, the brake pedal and even the accelerator!" she cried.

The dispatcher said, "Stay calm. An officer is on the way." A few minutes later, the officer radios in. "Disregard." He says, "She got in the back-seat by mistake."

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Old and young 1: Up and downstairs is how God made it

Because family and people are so vital to me I thought I would depart from my normal pattern and share some accumulated stuff that is so worth a good laugh. Problem is half of what I have relates to senior souls the other half to kids, so why not just play it safe and go down the middle. My collection includes some very funny little snippets about old people or by old people, plus some great extracts of kids answers to exam or test questions, the kind of answers that either drive teachers batty or make their careers so worthwhile -  enjoy:

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To the victor, the victory spoils

It weighs almost 7kg (13.6lb), is made of 18 carat, hollowed gold and is 26.5 centimeters (14.4 inches) tall. Although its real value is probably less than $100,000 its intrinsic value far exceeds that. It may be regarded as priceless.

The former Jules Rimet trophy was stolen in 1983 and never recovered, although it had already passed into the perpetual possession of Brazil after they won the world cup three times. In 1997, a Jules Rimet trophy was auctioned and bought by FIFA for about $250,000, almost ten times the reserve price, but it was later found to be a replica of the original, which remains lost.

In 2038 it may be due for replacement when all the available name plates provided on the current trophy will have been used up.

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Waving Flag

K'naan's iconic hit, which fully eclipsed Shakiras confusing, unmelodic attempt at a world cup song, not only captured the spirit of the FIFA world cup, it also pulled the rug from under the organisers feet. Its not the only such case either. Dutch fans were coopted by a Dutch firm in a very cheeky ambush marketing campaign.

The upstaging of the official world cup song, goes to the essence of Waving Flags lyrics. It is a song about great struggles against injustice and poverty, which yields to a freedom just like a waving flag. The great image of Liberty leading the people, by Delacroix, conveys the same theme. So did Verdi's slave chorus, which captured the yearnings of the Hebrews when they were exiled to Babylon. There are so many similar themes all speaking of the greatest cries of humanity.

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Its more than life and death

With four more matches to play, the world cup is all but over. Nations came and went. Some just came to play, some came for much more. Someone once said of cricket, “It’s not a matter of life and death, its more than that”. The same could be said of some of the teams and nations represented in this competition.

The Dutch team somehow managed to assemble an entourage of 100,000 people who joined their cavalcade through the streets of Cape Town. The Argentineans played their drums. The South Africans trumpeted their Vuvuzelas. Others sported their national colors on their faces and in their waved banners.

The picture of a Mohican warrior supporting his own team, captures the spirit of the occasion well enough. Not far below the smile, joy and innocence of the moment is a warrior mentality. Maybe the advancement of the human race has tamed much of that feistiness that set nation against nation and kingdom against kingdom in past eras.

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Your treasure is where your heart is

I posed a question to a group of learners today - if money was no consideration, would they choose a small, reliable car over a jewel encrusted, precious watch. After some debate they agreed that the car probably would then have to take priority, given its supassing utility value.

A bushman was taken into a big city and shown all the marvels of the modern world, but before returning to his arid wild place they asked him, "of all the things you have seen, what would you most like to take home with you?"

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Times and seasons

The beach vendor caught in a news lens, somewhat tells his own story. With only 4 games remaining in the FIFA world cup, the bonanza for vendors is fading, as is this season of football. Soon life for all will plod along again as we return to the grind of real life.

As I write, the sun is lighting the sky and the tinging the heavens with hope for a new day. However, the inexorable course of the sun across our skies dictates that for me to have a sunrise, others must be heading towards a sunset or some other phase in their life cycles.

The sunrise is just a subset of the greater dawns that herald the start of seasons. We all have our seasons. It starts with our birth: that most wonderful of all moments when life starts. Beyond that we face other seasons, some exciting, some not so. The start of school is a big milestone for many children, but later they enter the season of puberty or high school or college or marriage or parenting.

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Independence day

In 1776, the Second Continental Congress, chaired by Thomas Jefferson, issued the declaration of independence, by which the US was formally separated from Great Britain. The exact date is disputed, but not the fact. The day earlier, John Adams claimed the day as the most memorable epoch in US history.

The original document is now archived in the Smithsonian Institute, but it is sealed from exposure to light and air, so precious is the document to the people of America. Indeed, the birthing of that nation has resulted in arguably the most patriotic culture of earth. On this day, all Americans hold their heads high and strut their stuff in proud display of their priceless independence. Its a time of festivities, family meals and fireworks.

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Unfurl your colors

The idea of wearing battle colours or war paint extends far back into history. The red Indians dubbed stripes on their faces when they went into battle, to embolden each other, intimidate the enemy and display their commitment to victory. The Vikings also wore battle paint, as did the Normans. Both of those invasive forces influenced warriors like the Scots, whom Mel Gibson so ably depicted in Braveheart. Mediaeval battlefields also used war paint until the idea of uniformed forces was popularised.

Uniforms and flags enabled fighting forces to carry their colours and allegiances in a more formal way. Discipline and pride rejected the relatively untidy look of face paint, but time would expose such visible uniforms to real disadvantages. Perhaps it was the Anglo-Boer war at the turn of the last century that convinced England to move towards mufti, the kind of battle dress that now dominates all battlefields.

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Its almost over ... scarcely before it began

There is such sweet innocence in a child’s face. They are like a blank page, an unpainted canvas – pregnant with possibility and potential. In the hands of an artist, each canvas will be transformed to become a thing of unique beauty and wonder.

As life progresses that canvas then tells its own story – a weather-beaten, wrinkled and tired face speaks of years of sorrow or ill-living, but for every one of those faces I have seen many other older faces that reflect contentment, peace, fulfillment and dignity.

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And the trumpets shall sound ...

That annoying instrument is still on my mind. How do I get it off my mind? How can anyone ignore such a persistent and loud noise?

The picture attached shows a Vuvuzela trumpet being blown by light of moon. It is reminiscent of the howling of wolves or dogs, but if there's is an instinctive cry, a mating call or some other instrument of survival, what would we say of the Vuvuzela? It is not likely to attach a mate, unless she is deaf. It is not instinctive, its downright dangerous to one's health and if God wanted us to make such a noise He would have tuned our noses to B-Flat, made them larger and enhanced our lung capacity to support the kind of noise a cow makes when its giving birth. As for our ears, well maybe by now they would have evolved into muffs.  

Past civilisations have certainly regarded the trumpet as an instrument of survival - it warned of impending danger, sounded alarms or heralded the coming of an important event.

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The sound of trumpets

The FIFA world cup has had its highs - the opening ceremony, the arrival of teams, the national spirit of a land that has opened its heart to all, the celebrations and the general atmosphere of the occasion. The lowest moments have been where teams have been forced to leave the stage and head back home. It is already almost over, yet has scarcely begun. Oh and of course every team has criticised the Jabulani ball, which loves to curve and do its own thing at altitude, thanks to its superb aero-efficiency.

Then of course, there is that unbelievably annoying trumpet that has absolutely drowned out all noise at matches, the motorious vuvuzela. It plays a monotonous B-flat at such volumes that it is damaging to one's health. I have mentioned before that the name is drawn from its "Vu-Vu" sound.

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The longest day

This week two men brought the world to a standstill, as they grunted and sweated and aced their way to one of the greatest tennis matches of the modern era.

Here are the stats:

Longest match at Wimbledon

Duration: 11 hours, 5 minutes

Longest final set - 138 games

Greatest number of games: 183

The crowd was concerned that the players would collapse, but daylight had the last say and forced the game to extend to a new day. It was one of the greatest games ever and now Isner and Mahut will be linked forever. At the end, Isner collapsed and rolled on the court and then embraced his opponent.

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Thanksgiving - an appropriate prayer

Dear GOD:

I want to thank You for what you have already done.

I am not going to wait until I see results or receive rewards.

I am not going to wait until I feel better or things look better.

I'm not going to wait until people say they are sorry or until they stop talking about me.

I am not going to wait until the pain in my body disappears.
I am not going to wait until my financial situation improves.
I am not going to wait until the children are asleep and the house is quiet.
I am not going to wait until I get promoted at work or until I get the job.
I am not going to wait until I understand every experience in my life that has caused me pain or grief.
I am not going to wait until the journey gets easier or the challenges are removed.
I am thanking you right now. I am thanking you because I am alive. I am thanking you because I made it through the days of difficulties. I am thanking you because I have walked around the obstacles.
I am thanking you because I have the ability and the opportunity to do more and do better.

I'm thanking you because FATHER, YOU haven't given up on me.

Source: unknown

Have ball will play

There was a time, not so long ago, when youngsters could derive fun from the simplest of things. Washington found pleasure in unseating his squatting father and the great Sir Donald Bradman learnt to bat using a golf ball, which so attuned his eye that by the time he retired from world cricket he had established an unassailable record of 99.9 runs for every wicket he conceded. Newton also turned the simple pleasure of an apple into an idea, to which Einstein added, when an idea simply presents itself, then God speaks.

All over the world poor kids like the one in the picture, derive profound joy from flat balls, broken toys and unstringed instruments. My own boys have reshaped sticks, pipes, tubes, tables and whatever else they could lay their hands on, including the house and my face, to fulfill their insatiable quest for adventure, intrigue and fun. I once took them fishing along a river, with very basic equipment - though we caught nought, they had inexpressible fun just doing it.

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Show your colors

The news picture of a man lost inside his outrageous hat, is about as evocative of the world cup as one could ever hope to find. Apparently it weighs 25kg, over 50 pounds, so what it does to his head, neck and shoulders is anyone's guess.

There is no doubt that a world class event like the FIFA world cup, bring out the party in all kinds of souls. It is highly festive and guaranteed to bring ordinary souls to the wildest and most exaggerated forms of expression imaginable. That's great - we all need some respite from a tough life.

The wearing of headdress and garments to represent a team, is as old as the hills. The priests of old carried a mitre on their heads and a mantle over their chests, into which was pressed the 12 semi-precious stones that represented the tribes of Israel.

The priests carried their representation before God, offering up sacrifices and intercessions for the needs of their people. It was not just a garment, an external show. According to Hebrews 2, the priests had to be able to identify fully with the needs of the people - so they carried, if not individual names, then certainly the corporate identities of the tribes, before God.

However, Hebrews 2 is not directed at the general priesthood, but the greatest of all priests, one drawn from the order of Melchizidek, who was made subject to temptation and weakness, just as we are, so He could fully identify with our needs and offer a sacrifice worthy of our atonement. Now that same priest, Jesus, actually does have our individual names written on His heart and He knows the hairs on our heads. He faithfully intercedes for us before the mercy throne of God, to give us grace and help in time of need.

Jesus may not wear priestly garments, nor the outrageous garb of rabid fans, but He most certainly shouts for us and the trumpets do indeed sound as He leads us through life's trials, until we raise the trophies of grace.

(c) Peter Eleazar @ www.4u2live.net

Perfect peace

The attached picture appeared in the news, showing a young child sleeping peacefully through what must be amongst the noisiest occasions ever. A simple plastic trumpet, called a Vuvuzela (a phonetic name for its B-flat, Vu-Vu sound), which produces a noise similar to a cow giving birth and operates in the 130 decibel range. It is a profoundly noisy instrument, but when 60-90 thousand people blow them in the confines of a stadium it is so deafening that hearing damage is possible. Add to that the recent puncturing of a throat by an over-zealous player and you have a real health threat. All that said, the Vuvuzela is still the symbol of a wildly ecstatic football fan base. 

I am more intrigued by the peace a child can know in such tumultuous times. My youngest son is also capabe of sleeping through just about anything and will lie down to sleep wherever sleep takes him. Their's is an innocent peace, a God-given ability to switch off and dream whilst the world around them goes mad. It is a metaphor for their general innocence about life and the simplicity of their faith.

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Red card, yellow card

The rules of football are really quite simple. I don't know them, but they cannot hope to compare with the rules of Rugby Union or American Football. Of course Australian Rules Football is a misnomer for it seems to be a game sans rules. The only real rule is to thug the opposition, but in the midst of such hairy chested, bararian-looking, testosteronic madness, is the contradiction of an almost effeminate line judge, who goes to such trouble to ritualise his line calls.

Soccer's rules have always been simple, for that is the nature of the game. In a nutshell its: no handballing, no foul play, score through the goal post and of course there is also an offside rule. Foul play is a subjective thing, ruled by the whim of the referee, but basically guided by the principle of playing the man, not the ball.

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Tilting the odds

Once again I lay my ignorance of the game of football on the line. Officianados could bore you to tears with technical debate abut the nuances of what is called "the beautiful game" and I have no truck with that. I respect its place in our culture and dare not ignore the sheer magnitude of the game. 

However, as an aloof observer I can't help feeling that scoring is a lottery. A team visits its opposition goal area and takes a pot shot or two, with a generally low ratio of success, then they all go and camp on the other side of the field to allow the opposition their chance to have a go. That is over-simplifying the issues a bit, but it certainly looks that way. Scoring is a lottery, a pitching of odds that tilt in the favor of the attacking team under very trying circumstances.

The trick is to minimise the odds of the opposition scoring, through solid defence and effective goal keeping. At the same time, knowing that attack is the best form of defence, a team must tilt the odds of scoring in its own favor, by retaining possession of the ball, spending more time in the goal area, whilst positioning players as favorably as possible and ensuring as many shots on goal as possible. Other aspects that tilt the odds are fitness, agility, knowledge of the rules, avoidance of penalties and referee management.

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More than life and death

The adjacent face says it all. The FIFA world cup is a big deal for any soccer fan, a massive deal for Africans and beyond measure for South Africans.

Many years ago a famous Star Trek episode showed two colonies at war with each other. However, it was a virtual war, played out in the cyber world of computer games. The games helped to ensure that innocent lives were spared and civil infrastructure was not impaired.

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Simple joys

It passes all understanding how anyone could chase after a round ball for 90 minutes, produce no score or maybe a draw and occasionally a result, whilst really just going around in circles in a recurring lottery that occasionally yields a goal. It is especially ludicrous when one could be doing so much more with what was once a pig's bladder. Simply put, Soccer costs the average spectator about $150 per point, whereas rugby costs about $5 per point, so which is really delivering the greater spectator value?

The fact is that half the world could care less and the adjacent Netherlands world cup supporter, who was caught in a news camera, certainly cares less. Soccer is their game or football as they prefer to call it, even if that is actually a generic name for many sports.

So why is it so popular? Have you ever taken a ball to an unblooded two year old black boy. His response is written in his genes. He knows instinctively what to do with it and will not lose much time in setting up goals or coopting a few friends.

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Waka, Waka

I once stated that sport is close to the heart of God. I am not sure I would say that now, especially given the professionalisation of sport codes plus the politics, power and money involved.

I think my original idea was that sport is such a useful social integrator and nation builder. It is also team and character building. I certainly encourage my boys to participate, regardless of how well they do. I also perceive that people drawn from a sporting past, are generally more effective in leadership and teamwork. Who knows?

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Reversing the lost generation

I can Change the world and I refuse to believe I am part of a lost generation.

I realize this may be a shock but

"Happiness comes from within"

Is a lie, as is

"Money will make me happy"

So in 30 years from now I will tell my children

They are not the most important things in my life

My employer will know that

I have my priorities strait because

Work

Is more important than

Family

Once upon a time

Families stayed together

but this will not be true in my era

This is a quick fix society

Experts tell me

30 years from now I will be celebrating the 10th anniversary of divorce

I do not concede that

I will be in a country of my own making

In the future

Environmental destruction will be the norm

.

No longer will it be said

My peers and I care about the truth

It will be evident that

My generation is apathetic and lethargic

It is foolish to resume that

There is Hope

And all of this will come true unless we choose to reverse it “

Read this backwards after reading it forward.

Source: unknown; image: http://www.sherricarterart.com/

Four Magic Words

A nurse ushered me into my grandma's room. Lying in the hospital bed, she looked so small. Her eyes were closed. I sat down quietly.

I was on my way to seminary and full of self-doubt. I had just given up a full scholarship to medical school, and everyone thought I was making a mistake. I desperately wanted Grandma's advice, but the nurse had warned me that she didn't have much strength left. After half an hour, Grandma hadn't stirred, so I just started talking. Suddenly she woke up, asking, "Danny, is that you?"

She told me how her faith had guided her all her life. After a few minutes, a great peace settled around us. I kissed Grandma and turned to leave, but then I heard her whisper some parting words. I leaned over to listen. "I believe in you," she said.

Grandma died that night, but in more than 20 years of work as a Christian psychologist, I have passed on her words many times. Four simple words can make a lifetime of difference ~ Dan Montgomery

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Peace in the storm

"It takes much building and rebuilding to establish a kingdom", said my youngest son. I had just lost months and months of work on my blog site, all accidently overritten in a moment of madness. My initial reaction was a mixture of sadness and anger. Even the postings had gone and that really saddened me, for each post represented a priceless moment of reflection. It was also just another brick in the wall, another setback amongst so many in a long journey with God.

I did not understand Daniel's counsel at first, but then my 12 year old added, "Dad, Israel was given to the Jews, yet it rose and fell, sometimes to the level of a smouldering ruin. It was attacked again and again and again, especially Jerusalem. But they carried on building it anyway."

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Suspicious minds

I had to get some groceries and heard Elvis singing, "suspicious minds". I rocked and rolled down the aisles ejoying the delightful melody and the rhythm of his music, but then got to thinking about the lyrics.

We're caught in a trap, I can't walk out, because I love you too much baby
Why can't you see, what you're doing to me, when you don't believe a word I say?
We can't go on together, with suspicious minds
And we can't build our dreams, on suspicious minds

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The devil's in the duck

There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced and he practiced, but he could never hit the target. Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner. As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head, and killed it. He was shocked and grieved.

In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see his sister watching! Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing. After lunch the next day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes." But Sally said, "Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen." Then she whispered to him,

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The prayer that shocked the world

When Minister Joe Wright was asked to open the new session of the Kansas Senate, everyone was expecting the usual generalities, but this is what they heard:

"Heavenly Father, we come before you today to ask your forgiveness and to seek your direction and guidance.

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Waking up in Vegas

Katy Perry popularised the catchy song, but until recently that's all it was. Then I saw the video version and realised that it carried a powerful message. Her Vegas setting is an allegory for our dreamscapes and illusions, the utopian places where all our dreams can be fulfilled and where we all live happily ever after.

Our beautiful young singer goes to Vegas with an actor who is renowned for his dodgy roles - he is far from good looking, unkempt and beneath her. Yet in her illusionary state all is forgiven and they enjoy abandoned love as they soak up all the allures of Vegas.

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Fallen

One of my favorite singers is Sarah McClachlin, who must have one of the purest voices I have heard. She sings a haunting ballad, called Fallen, which has such powerful lyrics. For those in great crisis, she sings words of hope ....

Heaven bent to take my hand - and lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer - To a long and painful fight

She also reflects such honesty in her crisis ...

Truth be told I've tried my best - but somewhere along the way ...
I got caught up in all there was to offer - and the cost was so much more than I could bear

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A miracle reunion

A couple set out to reopen a church in suburban Brooklyn, but the building was very run down. They set a goal to repair it in time for their first service on Christmas Eve and worked hard to repair pews, walls and the floors. They were ahead of schedule and almost done, when a two-day storm caused the roof to leak, causing a large area of plaster to fall off the front wall of the sanctuary just behind the pulpit.

The pastor cleaned up the mess and headed home. On the way he saw a local business was having a sale, so he stopped in and found a beautiful, crocheted tablecloth with exquisite workmanship, fine colors and a Cross embroidered right in the center. It was just the right size to cover the hole in the front wall.

He bought it and headed back to the church, but on the way he bumped into an older woman who was trying to catch a bus. She missed the bus, so the pastor invited her to wait in the warm church for the next bus 45 minutes later.

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Every move you make

In 1983 Gordon Sumner aka Sting, released "Every move you make" with the Police. There is an ironic twist to the song, given that it was by the Police, for indeed they do watch, like big brother, ready to pounce if we err. However, it was a love song, not a policeman's rap.

The words speak of watching over every breath and move as we break our bonds:
Every breath you take and every move you make
Every bond you break, every step you take, I'll be watching you
Every single day and every word you say
Every game you play, every night you stay, I'll be watching you

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Heaven and Hell

A huge, rough samurai once went to see a little monk, hoping to acquire the secrets of the universe.

"Monk," he said, in a voice accustomed to instant obedience. "teach me about heaven and hell."

The little monk looked up at the mighty warrior in silence. Then, after a moment, he said to the samurai with utter disdain, "Teach YOU about heaven and hell? I couldn't teach you about anything. You're dirty. You smell. Your blade is rusty. you're a disgrace, an embarrassment to the samurai class. Get out of my sight at once. I can't stand you!"

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Was it a morning like this

We attended an Easter Sunday surnrise service this morning, but it was held in a graveyard. Did we seek the living amongst the dead?

The only reason we used the graveyard was that it afforded the best view of the village below, the mountains beyond and the watery sun that struggled to rise over an uncertain world.

It occured to me that the dead in this village had the best view of all, the best location of any other citizen. There is a metaphor in that, for in this life we see through a glass darkly, now in part, but then face to face. The best views in the house are all are reserved for our moment of death, when we pass out of this world with its limited perspective of glory and the gloom clears to reveal the breathless wonder that awaits us all.

Maybe if we could see more clearly, we would run more surely, but maybe that in itself determines our future perspectives. After all, a runner who has endured the race and fought the last miles, has a far better perspective of the glory of finishing than any spectator can ever have. So, in spite of the removal of the veil that obscures our grasp of heaven, a veil will yet remain for those who have not fought for the prize or run the race or gained mastery or struggled to overcome.

Only the hot and sweaty, the heaving and panting will gain a true concept of glory, for they will see through their tears and the mists of many sorrows, to a rest that surpasses all this world has to offer. They will have a surpassing view that even angels will desire to look into - for they will see Jesus not just as king or the Lord of all, but as the friend that stuck closer than a brother, the friend who never forsook them in life or death.

Peter Eleazar@4u2live.net