I have no idea really what I want to write. I have thoughts flowing through my head but I am really unable to put them all down in some sort or order. Today is fathers day and that leads me to be thankful for my own father. It's different for my to explain what I am thinking other than to say as I get older I think of Father's Day very different and appreciate him all the more. I know that at the heart of things my father loves me. In reflection he has done all that he can to show us the Fathers Love. I know that the little things mean the most to him, a walk in the woods, time in God's word, a game of solitaire. All I wish and prayer for my father this day and for the rest of his life here on earth is that he would continue to grow and know who he is and be the best at it as he knows how with God's help/guidance of course. I know that much blessing comes to those who have been faithful. I have been blessed by my father and I know the blessing has and will be returned.
There you have it, some of it anyway, I love you Dad
Just a quick note to my other friend who I admire who is also a father. It's been great watching you become more than just a single guy at Houghton. You have meet your match both with your wife and your daughter and son. I know that God is working in your life and its great to see you grow as you become a father. I know you have a lot to tell, your facing a lot but you can make it. I am will be here to listen and be your friend.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
Can't see it all
Judgment has come to my attention yet again, this time in a different form. It’s so easy for me to speak negative words of other people which I take from my own reflection or view of the situation. Again my preferences stand in my way of my thinking and I put myself before others. Not seeing what other are really like but isolating things down to one event, happening or dislike and making a statement about who they are and why they must be doing it, its just so simple to do. It seems that I am holding out on grace. I have been forgiven and I have been set free to love others but its still about me. I know that I need my heart renewed in how I speak to and about others.
It’s taken me a few days to process this information, its something I am still examining in my life. I end with a touching story on the subject from
J.R. Miller, On Judging Others, the full article can be viewed at http://www.gracegems.org/Miller/judging_others.htm
A tender story is told of Professor Blackie, of Edinburgh, which illustrates the same lesson. He was lecturing to a new class, and a student rose to read a paragraph, holding the booking his left hand. "Sir," thundered the professor, "hold your book in your right hand." The student attempted to speak. "No words, sir! your right hand, I say!" The lad held up his right arm, ending piteously at the wrist: "Sir, I had no right hand," he said.
Then the professor left his place, and going down to the student he had unwittingly hurt, he put his arm around the lad's shoulders and drew him close to his breast. "My boy," said Blackie—he now spoke very softly—yet not so softly but that every word was audible in the hush that had fallen on the classroom—"Please forgive me that I was so rough? I did not know—I did not know!"
It’s taken me a few days to process this information, its something I am still examining in my life. I end with a touching story on the subject from
J.R. Miller, On Judging Others, the full article can be viewed at http://www.gracegems.org/Miller/judging_others.htm
A tender story is told of Professor Blackie, of Edinburgh, which illustrates the same lesson. He was lecturing to a new class, and a student rose to read a paragraph, holding the booking his left hand. "Sir," thundered the professor, "hold your book in your right hand." The student attempted to speak. "No words, sir! your right hand, I say!" The lad held up his right arm, ending piteously at the wrist: "Sir, I had no right hand," he said.
Then the professor left his place, and going down to the student he had unwittingly hurt, he put his arm around the lad's shoulders and drew him close to his breast. "My boy," said Blackie—he now spoke very softly—yet not so softly but that every word was audible in the hush that had fallen on the classroom—"Please forgive me that I was so rough? I did not know—I did not know!"
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