Hello my friends! Today was full of God's blessings for me! Went shopping with Lori - had a Mother/Daughter day - got some new clothes at Penny's. Then out to eat, pedicures and back home. It was really special! This doesn't happen very often so I treasure these times. It felt good getting out of the apartment even if it was somewhat rainy, not all the time, though. This was my blessing for the day - what is yours?
Do not be upset by events of the past, rather be upset by the time
and energy you are devoting to them. Lord, help me to enjoy each
moment by completely letting go of the past.
S C R I P T U R E F O R T H E D A Y
"Lord, send out your spirit, and renew the face of the earth!" Psalm
response for Pentecost
M E D I T A T I O N F O R T H E D A Y
It is good for me to help others all I can. Every troubled soul that
God puts in my path is the one for me to help. As I sincerely try to
help, a supply of strength will flow into me from God. My circle of
helpfulness can widen more and more. God hands out the spiritual food
to me and I pass it on to others. I need never say that I have only
enough strength for my own need. The more I give away, the more I
will keep. That which I keep to myself, I will lose in the end.
P R A Y E R F O R T H E D A Y
I pray that I may have a sincere willingness to give. I pray that I
may not hold back the strength I have received for myself alone.
The last cab ride
Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. One time I arrived in the middle of the night for a pick up at a building that was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window.
Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself. So I walked to the door and knocked.
“Just a minute,” answered a frail, elderly voice.
I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie. By her side was a small nylon suitcase.
The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.
“Would you carry my bag out to the car?” she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness.
“It’s nothing,” I told her. “I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated.”
“Oh, you’re such a good boy,” she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, “Could you drive through downtown?”
“It’s not the shortest way,” I answered quickly.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said. “I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.”
I looked in the rear view mirror. Her eyes were glistening.
“I don’t have any family left,” she continued. “The doctor says I don’t have very long.”
I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. “What route would you like me to take?” I asked.
For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.
Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.
As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, “I’m tired. Let’s go now.”
We drove in silence to the address she had given me.
It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her. I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.
“How much do I owe you?” she asked, reaching into her purse.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You have to make a living,” she answered.
“There are other passengers.”
Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly.
“You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,” she said. “Thank you.”
I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light. Behind me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.
I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly, lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away? On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life. We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware—beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.
A true story by Kent Nerburn
Through Me
Through me let there be kind words, a warm smile,
and a caring heart.
Through me let there be a willingness to listen
and a readiness to understand.
Through me let there be dependability, steadfastness,
trust and loyalty.
Through me let there be compassion, forgiveness,
mercy and love.
Through me let there be every quality I find,
O Lord, in Thee.
Prayer to St. Francis for Life
Gentle St. Francis, you were so devoted to the humanity of Christ. Your
heart burst with appreciation toward God for taking on human life. You saw
beauty and goodness in all living things - in birds that sing, the fish that
fill our waters, and all that lives in nature.
Help us to imitate your reverence for life wherever it may be. Especially,
humble Francis of Assisi, help us to help others to see the worth of each
living, unborn baby sheltered in its mother's womb.
May all people have the grace to understand that these tiny, budding lives
have the right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
The Star Fish
Based on the story by Loren Eisley...
I awoke early, as I often did, just before sunrise to walk by the ocean's edge and greet the new day. As I moved through the misty dawn, I focused on a faint, far away motion. I saw a youth, bending and reaching and flailing arms, dancing on the beach, no doubt in celebration of the perfect day soon to begin.
As I approached, I sadly realized that the youth was not dancing to the bay, but rather bending to sift through the debris left by the night's tide, stopping now and then to pick up a starfish and then standing, to heave it back into the sea. I asked the youth the purpose of the effort. "The tide has washed the starfish onto the beach and they cannot return to the sea by themselves," the youth replied. "When the sun rises, they will die, unless I throw them back to the sea."
As the youth explained, I surveyed the vast expanse of beach, strectching in both directions beyond my sight. Starfish littered the shore in numbers beyond calculation. The hopelessness of the youth's plan became clear to me and I countered, "But there are more starfish on this beach than you can ever save before the sun is up. Surely you cannot expect to make a difference."
The youth paused briefly to consider my words, bent to pick up a starfish and threw it as far as possible. Turning to me he simply said, "I made a difference to that one."
I left the boy and went home, deep in thought of what the boy had said. I returned to the beach and spent the rest of the day helping the boy throw starfish in to the sea.
Mother Teresa said:
“The greatest disease in the West today is not TB or leprosy; it is being unwanted, unloved, and uncared for. We can cure physical diseases with medicine, but the only cure for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness is love. There are many in the world who are dying for a piece of bread but there are many more dying for a little love. The poverty in the West is a different kind of poverty -- it is not only a poverty of loneliness but also of spirituality. There's a hunger for love, as there is a hunger for God.”
― Mother Teresa, A Simple Path: Mother Teresa
May 28 - Jesus Calling
Let Me anoint you with My Presence. I am King of kings and Lord of lords, dwelling in unapproachable Light. When you draw near to Me, I respond by coming closer to you. As My Presence envelops you, you may feel overwhelmed by My Power and Glory. This is a form of worship: sensing your smallness in comparison to My Greatness.
Man has tended to make himself the measure of all things. But man’s measure is too tiny to comprehend My majestic vastness. That is why most people do not see Me at all, even though they live and move and have their being in Me.
Enjoy the radiant beauty of My Presence. Declare My glorious Being to the world!
… which God will bring about in his own time—God, the blessed and only Ruler, the King of kings and Lord of lords, who alone is immortal and who lives in unapproachable light, whom no one has seen or can see. To him be honor and might forever. Amen.
—1 Timothy 6:15–16
Come near to God and he will come near to you. Wash your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded.
—James 4:8
“‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’”
—Acts 17:28
Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; his greatness no one can fathom. One generation will commend your works to another; they will tell of your mighty acts. They will speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty, and I will meditate on your wonderful works. They will tell of the power of your awesome works, and I will proclaim your great deeds.
—Psalm 145:3–6
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