Faith is Hard
22 Jan 2006
Faith is hard. No matter how much we try to profess that we have an abundance of this quality,—which really belongs to the realm of the metaphysical,—this is really a grace of God. Of all the things we ask for in prayer, this one thing, that is faith, is what we should ask for first. For as we have faith, then all other good things materialize in the earthly realm; moreover, neither death, nor trials, nor tribulations, nor any other negative experience which impinges on our existence can have any effect on us other than that of simple manifestation. Though we become aware of such negative experience, though we may well feel and sense it, yet it does nothing to alter or change our relationship with God; neither does it move us farther away from our one precious resource.
Faith is made strong through trials. For untested faith, does little for our spiritual development, and how could it? After all, the virtuoso violinist produces his flawless musical pieces only after much practice and much diligence. Similarly, faith must be implemented regularly, practiced often, and even rehearsed repeatedly. Through such work, our faith becomes like the hardened, resistant, multilayered shell of the sea conch, which has built up its fortified abode only after years of layering mineral deposits within and about.
Yet trials are not what the human being relishes. Trials are not something I have enjoyed, nor something that I anticipate with alacrity. After all, I am human and so are you. In this, we must understand that therein lies one of the mysteries of God. Only He knows the purpose of our trials. Only He fully understands the reason of our suffering. And here is where the grace of faith comes in, as it is only through faith that we can bear patiently our trials. For without this grace, trials and tribulations, mishaps and misfortunes, are only things that reside in the earthly sphere of luck, chance, or coincidence, and not things which lie within the realm of the Almighty, and which constitute necessary ingredients to our spiritual well-being. Though we be assaulted by those of the world who believe they know better in that mishaps and trials are purely coincidental, we must hold tenaciously to our faith as it is this grace—and this grace only—that will bear us through the dark tunnels of life.
Therefore, let us pray not for our temporal welfare nor our protection from harm, but for faith, which once established and fortified within our beings, will be able to catapult us into the realm of God and produce all the good fruit of His providential wisdom.
Joe Pagano
Monday, May 4, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Chance
Chance
By Kathleene S. Baker
http://txyellowrose.com
Lainie's career flourished after her move to California. She loved her job, the mild weather, and the circle of close friends she acquired. At 35 years of age, Lainie was content with everything in her life, except the deafening tick of her biological clock!
Lainie's last few birthdays had been dreaded reminders that she was still single and childless. Being the product of a large family, five siblings to be exact, she yearned to have a child of her own. She worried, she stewed, and studied her financial situation. Once sure she could handle all aspects of being a single mother, she discussed the situation with close friends, as well as her mother. After a bit more deliberation, she opted to “go for it.” As if by design, her first attempt at invitro fertilization was successful. Lainie was thrilled!
The first 27 weeks of Lainie's pregnancy were perfect and each day her excitement soared. At 28 weeks things changed in a heartbeat; the situation became critical and she was terrified. When preeclampsia reared its ugly head, an emergency C-section was the only option. Moreover, it came with no promise of survival for Mother or child. Lainie had already named her unborn son, Chance, and she prayed to God for just that—a chance of survival for her child.
Weighing in at 1 pound and 15 ounces, the premature baby boy had been aptly named, for he was given a 50-50 chance of making it through his first night. Should he survive, he faced the probability of numerous health problems: mental retardation, cerebral palsy, blindness, and cystic fibrosis, to name only a few. The doctors were straightforward and not encouraging.
Lainie remained in intensive care for 10 anxiety-ridden days while her tiny son struggled to live. She held him for the first time when he was one week old. After three months in Neonatal Intensive Care, an overjoyed, yet fearful Mother took her still-fragile infant home. Lainie's mother traveled from Kansas to aid her youngest daughter and brand new grandson.
Due to chronic lung disease in premature babies, Chance would not be a daycare candidate for 2 years and Lainie was forced to make several major decisions. She left California and moved into her mother's roomy home in Kansas. Mom was more than willing to provide the emotional support Lainie needed and to help care for her young grandson.
Lainie was unable to continue her established career path in Kansas. Instead, her employment took the route of temporary jobs. Chance's therapy sessions and endless doctor appointments required her schedule to be flexible.
At 18 months of age Chance lags behind developmentally for a child his age, but he makes progress daily. It appears he has avoided all of the possible maladies that once loomed in his future. Furthermore, Chance dodged two additional obstacles that were thrown in his path—those being, kidney and heart surgery. Both issues resolved themselves with no logical or scientific explanation! Since birth, it seems Chance has been cradled in God's loving hands.
When I last visited Chance, his bright eyes danced and he giggled while giving grandma “high fives” one after the other. In addition, the smile that graced grandma's proud face was priceless.
Despite all adjustments and challenges encountered, Chance fills Lainie's life with love, light, and joy daily. With mountains of love, a multitude of prayers, and the grace of God, “chances are” that Chance will lead a completely normal life...
© Kathleene S. Baker 2007
http://txyellowrose.com
About the Author: Kathy resides in Texas with her husband, Jerry. She is a freelance writer and has contributed to ezines, newspapers, anthologies, and magazines. She also writes a weekly column for Frank Talk Magazine entitled Heart of Texas.
By Kathleene S. Baker
http://txyellowrose.com
Lainie's career flourished after her move to California. She loved her job, the mild weather, and the circle of close friends she acquired. At 35 years of age, Lainie was content with everything in her life, except the deafening tick of her biological clock!
Lainie's last few birthdays had been dreaded reminders that she was still single and childless. Being the product of a large family, five siblings to be exact, she yearned to have a child of her own. She worried, she stewed, and studied her financial situation. Once sure she could handle all aspects of being a single mother, she discussed the situation with close friends, as well as her mother. After a bit more deliberation, she opted to “go for it.” As if by design, her first attempt at invitro fertilization was successful. Lainie was thrilled!
The first 27 weeks of Lainie's pregnancy were perfect and each day her excitement soared. At 28 weeks things changed in a heartbeat; the situation became critical and she was terrified. When preeclampsia reared its ugly head, an emergency C-section was the only option. Moreover, it came with no promise of survival for Mother or child. Lainie had already named her unborn son, Chance, and she prayed to God for just that—a chance of survival for her child.
Weighing in at 1 pound and 15 ounces, the premature baby boy had been aptly named, for he was given a 50-50 chance of making it through his first night. Should he survive, he faced the probability of numerous health problems: mental retardation, cerebral palsy, blindness, and cystic fibrosis, to name only a few. The doctors were straightforward and not encouraging.
Lainie remained in intensive care for 10 anxiety-ridden days while her tiny son struggled to live. She held him for the first time when he was one week old. After three months in Neonatal Intensive Care, an overjoyed, yet fearful Mother took her still-fragile infant home. Lainie's mother traveled from Kansas to aid her youngest daughter and brand new grandson.
Due to chronic lung disease in premature babies, Chance would not be a daycare candidate for 2 years and Lainie was forced to make several major decisions. She left California and moved into her mother's roomy home in Kansas. Mom was more than willing to provide the emotional support Lainie needed and to help care for her young grandson.
Lainie was unable to continue her established career path in Kansas. Instead, her employment took the route of temporary jobs. Chance's therapy sessions and endless doctor appointments required her schedule to be flexible.
At 18 months of age Chance lags behind developmentally for a child his age, but he makes progress daily. It appears he has avoided all of the possible maladies that once loomed in his future. Furthermore, Chance dodged two additional obstacles that were thrown in his path—those being, kidney and heart surgery. Both issues resolved themselves with no logical or scientific explanation! Since birth, it seems Chance has been cradled in God's loving hands.
When I last visited Chance, his bright eyes danced and he giggled while giving grandma “high fives” one after the other. In addition, the smile that graced grandma's proud face was priceless.
Despite all adjustments and challenges encountered, Chance fills Lainie's life with love, light, and joy daily. With mountains of love, a multitude of prayers, and the grace of God, “chances are” that Chance will lead a completely normal life...
© Kathleene S. Baker 2007
http://txyellowrose.com
About the Author: Kathy resides in Texas with her husband, Jerry. She is a freelance writer and has contributed to ezines, newspapers, anthologies, and magazines. She also writes a weekly column for Frank Talk Magazine entitled Heart of Texas.
Saturday, May 2, 2009
Why Can't I Touch The Sky?
Why Can't I Touch The Sky?
By Robert Hunt
http://myselfdevelopment.net
My six-year-old daughter Sophie and I were playing a rhyming game the other day and out of the blue she asked me, "Why can't I touch the sky?" I laughed inside and thought for a few moments. I tried to explain it from the Jack and the Beanstalk story, but she just looked at me funny. Then I tried the old earth space thing, but that was too technical. The more I tried, the clumsier it got when finally I realized I wasn't getting through.
Then I had a realization. What if my daughter had asked the same question to another six year old? What would the other child have said? Some six year olds think they know the answer to everything and its fun to listen to what they have to say. Something tells me her friend wouldn't have the slightest difficulty in explaining the answer. Chances are, they would have argued and discussed it until finally reaching agreement. I wished I could have turned the question over to an imaginary friend and then sit back and listen to the conversation.
That night while lying in bed, I kept thinking about her question and why I couldn't come up with a really cool answer. Was it because I had "grown up" and now used my imagination like an "adult"? As I grew, the maturation process obviously had boxed me in. And worse yet... I knew that someday, my little girl just might lose her pure and trusting imagination to adulthood and maybe stop asking these wonderfully creative questions.
I didn't feel like it was right that I progressed up the ladder of maturity only to lose what I feel is a very important concept: the ability to retain and possess a childlike quality to explore other possibilities. Where did my childlike imagination go? Why did it go? I thought I would ask Sophie this question to help me understand why some adults tend to lose sight of this magical way of thinking and why others make a living by it.
She looked at me with a puzzle on her face and then I knew. It never occurs to her that there's any other way. Why on earth would a six-year-old little girl dream she couldn't touch the sky unless somebody told her she couldn't?
I watch my little girl as she plays. She conducts an imaginary reading class and makes sure each doll pronounces the words correctly. She dresses her babies and gets them ready for they're day. Her imagination takes wing each and every day to places I'm not aware. Sometimes I can catch a glimpse of her inner world when we sit and talk about her day or what her plans are for tomorrow.
Remember when we were younger, when we used to talk about and imagine what we would become when we grew up? I wanted to be a policeman and my friends wanted to be fireman and race car drivers. We believed anything was possible and we could become whatever we wanted, never doubting the possibilities. As children, we dreamed big.
Children are visionaries, and it seems a little sad to think our childlike imagination seems to disappear as we grow older. As we age, the ever-increasing intrusions of the world on our minds seem to frighten that childlike imagination into full-blown retreat.
As we grew up, we learned why the sky really is blue, and why grass is green. Why flowers need sunlight and how birds really fly. We lose a little bit of the wonder of life around us as we schedule the next meeting or plan tomorrow's agenda.
I have my daughter to thank for asking her question. It connected me, once again, with my priorities. She made me think about my own potentiality and how I may be limiting myself. Maybe I need to reconnect with my childlike imagination and think more outside the box of adult creativity. If I do that, maybe I can explain in my own six-year-old way, why she can... touch the sky.
About the Author: Robert Hunt is the creator of MySelfDevelopment.net - Click here to download your free copy of the timeless classic - As A Man Thinketh.
By Robert Hunt
http://myselfdevelopment.net
My six-year-old daughter Sophie and I were playing a rhyming game the other day and out of the blue she asked me, "Why can't I touch the sky?" I laughed inside and thought for a few moments. I tried to explain it from the Jack and the Beanstalk story, but she just looked at me funny. Then I tried the old earth space thing, but that was too technical. The more I tried, the clumsier it got when finally I realized I wasn't getting through.
Then I had a realization. What if my daughter had asked the same question to another six year old? What would the other child have said? Some six year olds think they know the answer to everything and its fun to listen to what they have to say. Something tells me her friend wouldn't have the slightest difficulty in explaining the answer. Chances are, they would have argued and discussed it until finally reaching agreement. I wished I could have turned the question over to an imaginary friend and then sit back and listen to the conversation.
That night while lying in bed, I kept thinking about her question and why I couldn't come up with a really cool answer. Was it because I had "grown up" and now used my imagination like an "adult"? As I grew, the maturation process obviously had boxed me in. And worse yet... I knew that someday, my little girl just might lose her pure and trusting imagination to adulthood and maybe stop asking these wonderfully creative questions.
I didn't feel like it was right that I progressed up the ladder of maturity only to lose what I feel is a very important concept: the ability to retain and possess a childlike quality to explore other possibilities. Where did my childlike imagination go? Why did it go? I thought I would ask Sophie this question to help me understand why some adults tend to lose sight of this magical way of thinking and why others make a living by it.
She looked at me with a puzzle on her face and then I knew. It never occurs to her that there's any other way. Why on earth would a six-year-old little girl dream she couldn't touch the sky unless somebody told her she couldn't?
I watch my little girl as she plays. She conducts an imaginary reading class and makes sure each doll pronounces the words correctly. She dresses her babies and gets them ready for they're day. Her imagination takes wing each and every day to places I'm not aware. Sometimes I can catch a glimpse of her inner world when we sit and talk about her day or what her plans are for tomorrow.
Remember when we were younger, when we used to talk about and imagine what we would become when we grew up? I wanted to be a policeman and my friends wanted to be fireman and race car drivers. We believed anything was possible and we could become whatever we wanted, never doubting the possibilities. As children, we dreamed big.
Children are visionaries, and it seems a little sad to think our childlike imagination seems to disappear as we grow older. As we age, the ever-increasing intrusions of the world on our minds seem to frighten that childlike imagination into full-blown retreat.
As we grew up, we learned why the sky really is blue, and why grass is green. Why flowers need sunlight and how birds really fly. We lose a little bit of the wonder of life around us as we schedule the next meeting or plan tomorrow's agenda.
I have my daughter to thank for asking her question. It connected me, once again, with my priorities. She made me think about my own potentiality and how I may be limiting myself. Maybe I need to reconnect with my childlike imagination and think more outside the box of adult creativity. If I do that, maybe I can explain in my own six-year-old way, why she can... touch the sky.
About the Author: Robert Hunt is the creator of MySelfDevelopment.net - Click here to download your free copy of the timeless classic - As A Man Thinketh.
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