My music teacher was over 70, kind, old-fashioned, and somewhat fastidious. But he had a way of making you feel special. He would always take you seriously and express interest in your plans and desires for the future. If he asked “How are you?” I came to realize he genuinely wanted an answer beyond “Fine” and would be totally okay with getting a day-by-day layout of your week and what you had done.
Even though I was brash and energetic, he smiled at my reckless statements and over abundance of excitement. He said it showed I was a leader and going places. He taught me many things, but one of the greatest things I learned from him was how to give a compliment. Here are some of the points that I observed from him:
His secret was that he was simply interested in people and humble enough to take time to notice them. And in doing this, he created a network of people—both peers and pupils—that loved him. He never actually talked about much that wasn’t related to music; he certainly didn’t teach or lecture on anything else—but whether his students became musicians, teachers, doctors, sports players, pastors, or engineers, we all became kinder because of his compliments.-- Amy Joy Mizrany
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By Peter and Lily
This year deadly Cyclone Yaas hit the area of Sunderban in India. It was terrible, as the cyclone came during high tide and water rose to five feet above the ground! Even after a week the fields were still immersed in water.Needless to say, we were motivated to try to help the people who were affected. We were able to help two villages this year. In Gosaba, we helped 400 families. We also went to the village of Goramara twice. On the first trip, we helped 450 families; and on the second trip, we helped 300 families. Each family received a gift packet that contained rice, potatoes, dal, oil, soap, cookies, chana, clothes, bed sheets, and towels. We pray they felt loved and cared for even in a small way. These people had to hang on to the trees above water for three days, with no food or drinking water. People were so discouraged as this is a second year in a row they have lost everything. On the last trip, just a week after my mom’s passing, an older woman came to see us. She asked if she could have a simple blouse, as all she had was a sari and some food. The packets we had prepared had all been given out, so I gave her a little money I had with me. She kept hugging us and crying, telling us how much she appreciated our help. The day dawned fine as I set out to walk up the Great Orme, a limestone headland on the north coast of Wales. I walked along cheerfully in glorious sunshine, map in hand. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged.
The road upon which I walked led me around the edge of the headland. The gentle sea breeze was invigorating at first, but soon a wind blew up over the sea and storm clouds gathered overhead. In minutes my coat was becoming heavy with rain. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged. A little less cheerful now but hopeful that the weather would improve, I continued my walk. Optimism was rewarded; the sun came out, and soon I was carrying my coat over my arm, basking once more in warm sunshine. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged. The map directed me off the road and onto a narrow track that wended through fields and bushes. I made my way up stony stretches, my legs beginning to ache as the climb grew steeper. Sheep grazed on stubbly grass. Seagulls gathered on the rocks below before soaring high on gentle updrafts. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged. The time passed pleasantly until at last I reached the summit. The view was magnificent—the mountains of Wales to one side, the open sea to the other. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged. My return route was by a different path. Despite studying the map, after some time I was dismayed to realize that I was going around in circles rather than descending. I was also getting weary and starting to worry whether I was going to make it back to my hotel before the sun set. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged. I crossed paths with an experienced walker—a local man out with his dogs. He showed me a short, direct route. I was still tired, but invigorated by the expectation of arriving back before dark. The Great Orme stood firm, unchanged. The highs and lows of the walk of faith are much like my day on the Great Orme. Our faith may reach high ground or descend into valleys, and sometimes we are buffeted by the storms of life or wearied by the journey, but no matter how we feel, God’s Word, the foundation upon which our faith is built, stands firm, unchanged.—Marge Banks When I was very new in the faith life, I spent some time in Nova Friburgo, in the mountains of Rio de Janeiro, along with two other missionaries. It’s a beautiful city with German and Swiss architecture, nestled between some of the highest mountains in the state.
We used to go to the main square to talk with the storekeepers. One young woman named Sara caught my attention. She had just been liberated from drug addiction and had her Bible on the counter beside her colorful bracelets and necklaces. She said: “This is my sword now.” Her faith was so sincere that it kindled my own. One day, Sara asked if we could come to her home to pray for her son. “He has a stubborn fever and bronchitis,” she said, “but I know that if you pray for him, he will be healed!” Later that afternoon, we walked with her for two blocks to the simple house where she lived with her parents and one-year-old son, who was lying quietly in a small crib. She lifted him in her arms and brought him to us. I noticed that my friends weren’t sure what to do, but I didn’t want to hurt Sara’s faith, so I started to pray for the child. I had prayed for healing a couple of times before, but only for myself. As I laid my hands on that fever stricken little body, I knew a miracle was needed. I started asking for God’s mercy, and claimed a few Bible verses on healing I had memorized. When we opened our eyes, Sara’s little boy was pushing his way out of her arms and promptly began running around the house like a normal one-year-old in perfect health. His fever was gone and Sara started to praise God. The place where we were staying was a half-hour walk up the hill, away from any city lights, and it was one of the starriest nights I’ve ever seen. As I walked, I talked to my dear God and thanked Him for the miracle He had performed, and He seemed to smile back at me from the thousands of little lights above us. There and then, I understood the woman who touched the hem of His garment. When she received her healing, Jesus said to her: “Daughter, be of good comfort: your faith has made you whole!” By Rosane Pereira When Lazarus became ill, his sisters sent word to Jesus, hoping that He would visit and heal Lazarus before his health got any worse. Instead, the opposite happens. Jesus stays where He is. Lazarus dies.
And then Jesus goes to Bethany, Lazarus’ hometown. When Jesus told the disciples that Lazarus was dead, He said:
As Jesus approached Bethany, Martha went out to meet Him. When she reaches Jesus, she says:
These statements show that Martha was a woman of strong faith. She must have been in awful anguish about the death of her brother, not to mention probably bewildered as to why Jesus didn’t come to Bethany when they first asked. Also, consider that Jesus doesn’t straight out tell her, “I’m going to raise your brother from the dead today!” He doesn’t explain to her what He meant when He said “Everyone who lives and believes in Me shall never die.” In spite of not knowing all the details or what Jesus is going to ask His Father for, she trusts that Jesus will act in a way that’s for their good. She says, “I know that whatever you ask from God, God will give you. … I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God.” Sure enough, Lazarus (who had been dead for four days) gets up and walks out of his tomb! It’s an incredible miracle and results in many more people believing in Jesus. There’s a lot in these two chapters to ponder and reflect on. But in relation to the comparisons between Mary and Martha specifically, I find myself thinking along the following lines: Everyone has strengths, and everyone has flaws. We all have things we’re proud of and like about ourselves; things we feel are “just the way we are”; and things that frustrate us, or that we’re trying to change. But nobody wants to be characterized by one of their blunders, or to be permanently labeled based on some “flaw” or “that time” they messed up. It’s unfair. Instead of remembering Martha as the sister who “didn’t choose the best part” and “was busy with serving,” why not give our frame of reference a makeover and also remember Martha as the woman who believed and trusted in Jesus in the face of enormous personal loss. I think it would be great to be a mixture of both Mary and Martha: hardworking, industrious, trusting, building my faith, sticking to my convictions, and doing my best to choose the “one thing that is needful” and to make decisions that will truly count in the long term. -- Olivia Bauer Walking along a narrow path in the tropical forest we often visit for a Sunday walk, under the radiant early morning African sun, I notice a magnificent cactus and stop to take a closer look. The dark-green rubbery leaves are fat and oval and interspersed with large pointed thorns. In contrast to the feisty exterior, tender blooms emerge from the tips of some leaves. Shades of yellow and an intricate design make these lovely flowers dazzle. How like Jesus’ presence after a thorny stretch of life’s journey. Just like a flower appearing in the most unexpected circumstances, He reassures me of His love and care.
Rounding the bend, we saw a flame tree stretching its leafy arms high above. Each branch is crowned with a flaming orange-red flower, and the backdrop of the sky’s cooling azure blue softens their flaming red. When the fierceness of danger, sickness, or strife shoots flaming arrows my way, God, like the eternal cool blue sky, calms each fear. Feelings of distress disappear as His presence shields me. Then my favorite stretch of the trail passes under the shadow of regal bamboo plants. Their broad stalks reach far above, forming a green arch over the trail, which provides shelter from sun and rain. Jesus is my protector and shield, and when I find myself in a tunnel, He is the light at the end of it. The winding path now leads down a slope toward a brook. Since there is no bridge, local farmers have placed two logs over the stream. As we balance along the trunks, I am reminded that Jesus has provided stepping stones in His Word. A steep incline leads to the road. Breathless and sweaty, we reach the top. To help me over the last boulder, my friend reaches down, grabs hold of my hand, and pulls me up. Jesus is at the other end of each prayer and lends a helping hand through a friend, a spouse, or even a stranger. At the top of the hill, a refreshing cool breeze fans our sweaty brows, which energizes us instantly. A breathtaking view unfolds in front of us, with a range of blue mountains in the distance. Jesus is a cool breeze that brings respite after each challenge, giving new hope and strength to carry on. -- Iris Richard
I live in a high and holy place, but also with the one who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.--Isaiah 57:15 NIV
My oldest sister Sheila had a big influence on my life when I was young. She taught me to play the guitar and she used to write sweet melodies of love and hope. She showed me through her example that the wounds of the soul are like the wounds of the skin—they heal naturally. Eventually, though, I realized that some people heal faster than others. Sometimes, people hold on to their sorrow until it becomes bitterness. They let sad memories dampen their minds and drain them of their joy of living. It’s like they keep bumping that bruise, which prevents it from ever healing. That also happened to me. Once I had a grudge against someone for a few weeks, until a friend advised me to let it go and start praying for that person. He said: “If you pray for him, you’ll soon feel the resentment has gone.” I followed that advice, and it really happened! I don’t even remember who that person was, or what he did to me, but I remember the advice and have followed it many times since. My sister was right about the healing of the wounds, but there’s a condition: we have to do the forgiving and the forgetting, the “letting go.” No matter what bad things happen, God can work them for our good as we love, trust, and follow Him. The story of Joseph in the Bible is a good illustration of all this. He forgave his brothers after they sold him into slavery for 13 years. In Genesis 50:20, he says to them: “You planned something bad for me, but God produced something good from it, in order to save the lives of many people, just as he’s doing today.” Note that God Himself forgives and forgets! Hebrew 8:12 says: “I will forgive their wickedness, and I will never again remember their sins.” This principle is at the heart of the Christian message. It’s what God did for us when He sent Jesus to die for our sins. If we want to be followers of Jesus, we must receive His love and forgiveness, and then learn to forgive and forget—not only for the good of others, for our own as well! -- Rosane Pereira By Sneider, Columbia
One weekend when I was thinking to rest a little bit, the Lord had different plans. A torrential downpour flooded the homes of 30 families. Some lost everything. I was there from the first moment helping to remove mud and debris. My son was also there helping to clean up. I was very proud to see him in action doing his best to help. We were there until dawn. And all weekend we were receiving donations of food, clothing, shoes, etc. We made food for the victims and coordinated the delivery of the donations. Thank God that people were generous, and we were able to give some provisions to the families and show them the most important thing—His love and mercy! Due to Covid-19, many people lost their jobs and the means to support their families. Many children would go several days without eating. Early in 2021 I decided to open a community kitchen to feed children from the community. We started with 45 children, and that has now grown to almost 120. Six days a week we provide food for these sweet kids, whose ages range from 6 months to 13 years. In December we were able to give all of them toys and do a Christmas performance for them. A friend from the U.S. donated funds to repair the kitchen and the electricity around the house where we receive the kids, which will help us improve the service. Also our school project in the impoverished neighborhood of Santo Domingo Savio had good results. We were able to follow up with the kids’ school attendance and reinforce their schoolwork. The children were able to attend school in person once a week, and they had virtual classes the rest of the week, due to Covid-19 restrictions. The majority of the children advanced to a higher grade. Our volunteers—from the US, Italy, France, England, Argentina, and Colombia—dedicated their time to help the children and teens through tutoring and mentoring. Recently, I was reviewing my past, thinking about choices I made, and I began to blame others for how some things had turned out. I blamed my parents for the decisions they made that affected my childhood. I blamed my school for the insecurities I felt, and how I never felt I was perfect enough to succeed in various areas. I blamed my church for attitudes I had about God that affected my relationship with Him.
But as I lay in bed thinking deeply about my life, I began to see my parents with understanding and realized that they’d done the best they had known how. I remembered all the ways they had encouraged me and helped me become the person I am today. Likewise, I looked back at my time in school and realized that a lot of what I had experienced was on me. I was shy and afraid to try new things. I was fearful of stepping out and taking risks. It was mostly my own insecurities that got in the way of my academic and social success. When I relived the years I spent going to my family’s small independent church, sure, I remembered gossip and some hurts that had stuck with me; but with the benefit of a much longer life, I realized how easy it’d been to blame the situation or the institution, when in reality I’d received a wonderful foundation of faith, and so often the members of the congregation there had helped me and been examples of genuine Christianity. It’s important not to get stuck blaming situations. My life hasn’t been perfect. I have made some decisions that have hurt myself, and at times others have hurt me. But it wasn’t my home life or my school or my church that was responsible. It was individuals. And when I remembered the individuals, I saw a woman struggling with grief because her oldest child had died; an unhappy middle-aged woman who had spent her time caring for an elderly mother and aunt who had numerous infirmities; a fresh-out-of-college youth leader who thought he was an expert on teenagers but simply needed a bit more life experience; and an exhausted and stressed math teacher whose wife’s pregnancy had landed her in the hospital for months. These people made mistakes, just like I’ve made mistakes along the way in my life. It’s too easy to draw conclusions and make generalizations about our experiences and the people we feel justified in casting blame on. But some serious introspection can give insight into why things happened. At the time, we might not understand why someone reacted the way they did, but looking back with understanding helps us have a clearer picture and find freedom in forgiveness. |
AuthorThe goal of the blog is to provide interesting, motivational, soul feeding material. All to help remind us that God loves us all and wants a personal relationship with each of us and will take care of us in times of trouble. I aspire to be a force for good by providing you with positive input. I encourage you to share the blog with others. Archives
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