Devil’s Beatitudes

Devil’s Beatitudes

Devil’s Beatitudes Blessed are those who are too tired, busy or disorganized to meet with fellow Christians on Sundays each week. Their hearts are not in it. Blessed are those who enjoy noticing the mannerisms of clergy and choir. Their hearts are not in it. Blessed are those Christians who wait to be asked and expect to be thanked. I can use them. Blessed are the touchy. With a bit of luck, they may even stop going to church. They are my missionaries. Blessed are those who claim to love God and at the same time are hating other people. They are mine forever. Blessed are the troublemakers. They shall be called my children. Blessed are those who have no time to pray. They are easy prey for me. Blessed are you when you read this and think it is about other people and not about yourself. I’ve got you. — Author Unknown Meditation: Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. – Ephesians 6:11 You will succeed in Jesus Name! Also read: The Marriage Beatitudes The Most Important Question Special Beatitudes for Those Who Work with Special People

Masks

Masks

Don’t be fooled by the face I wear, for I wear a thousand masks, And none of them are me. Don’t be fooled, for goodness sake, don’t be fooled. I give you the impression that I’m secure, that confidence is my name and coolness is my game, And that I need no one. But don’t believe me. Beneath dwells the real me in confusion, in aloneness, in fear. That’s why I create a mask to hide behind, to shield me from the glance that knows, but such a glance is precisely my salvation. That is, if it’s followed by acceptance, if it’s followed by love. It’s the only thing that can liberate me from my own self-built prison walls. I’m afraid that deep down I’m nothing and that I’m just no good, And that you will reject me. And so begins the parade of masks. I idly chatter to you. I tell you everything that’s really nothing and Nothing of what’s everything, of what’s crying within me. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying. I’d really like to be genuine and spontaneous, and me. But you’ve got to help me. You’ve got to hold out your hand. Each time you’re kind and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, My

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Circles of Love

Circles of Love

It was over 20 years ago. I was holding my baby son in my arms while my two other children played under a big tree in the front yard of an old house. The house was also a local food bank and I was watching my children while my wife went in. I had been laid off work for a long time and we were out of food. I tried to laugh as my children chased each other around the tree but my heart was too heavy. Despair hung around me like a cloud. All I could feel was fear. Finally, my wife came out holding a large bag of food and we smiled at each other. Thanks to the kindness of others our children would not go hungry that night. It was yesterday. I found myself outside the doors of another food bank. Thanks to the kindness of a kindred spirit I had some extra money in my wallet and a longing to share this gift with others. I went to the local grocery store and bought what I could with what I had. Then I carried in the bags of food to help restock the food bank’s sparse shelves. The people there thanked me several times, but I felt a little embarrassed as I accepted their gratitude. I

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The Most Important Question

The Most Important Question

During my second month of nursing school, our professor gave us a pop quiz. I was a conscientious student and had breezed through the questions, until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was some kind of joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times. She was tall, dark-haired and in her 50s, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank… Before class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our quiz grade. “Absolutely,” said the professor. “In your careers you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say ‘hello’.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy. – Author Unknown Meditation: Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. – Philippians 2:3 You will succeed in Jesus Name! Also read: The People in Your Life Why You Should Pray for People in Authority  Beatitudes for Those Who Work with Special People

Information, Please

Information, Please

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it. Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person — her name was “Information, Please” and there was nothing she did not know. “Information, Please” could supply anybody’s number and the correct time. My first personal experience with this genie-in the-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I hacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there didn’t seem to be any reason in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. “Information, Please,” I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my

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A Cinderella Story

A Cinderella Story

My friend Kenny and his family had just returned from Disney World. “I saw a sight I’ll never forget,” he said. “I want you to know about it.” He and his family were inside Cinderella’s castle. It was packed with kids and parents. Suddenly all the children rushed to one side. Had it been a boat, the castle would have tipped over. Cinderella had entered. Cinderella. The pristine princess. Kenny said she was perfectly typecast. A gorgeous young girl with each hair in place, flawless skin, and a beaming smile. She stood waist-deep in a garden of kids, each wanting to touch and be touched. For some reason, Kenny turned and looked toward the other side of the castle. It was now vacant except for a boy maybe seven or eight years old. His age was hard to determine because of the disfigurement of his body. Dwarfed in height, face deformed, he stood watching quietly and wistfully, holding the hand of an older brother. Don’t you know what he wanted? He wanted to be with the children. He longed to be in the middle of the kids reaching for Cinderella, calling her name. But can’t you feel his fear, fear of yet another rejection? Fear of being taunted again, mocked again? Don’t you wish Cinderella would go to him? Guess

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