1. God won't ask what kind of car you drove, but will ask how
many people you drove who didn't have transportation.
2. God won't ask the square footage of your house, but will ask
how many people you welcomed into your home.
3. God won't ask about the fancy clothes you had in your closet,
but will ask how many of those clothes helped the needy.
4. God won't ask about your social status, but will ask what
kind of class you displayed.
5. God won't ask how many material possessions you had, but will
ask if they dictated your life.
6. God won't ask what your highest salary was, but will ask if
you compromised your character to obtain that salary.
7. God won't ask how much overtime you worked, but will ask if
you worked overtime for your family and loved ones.
8. God won't ask how many promotions you received, but will ask
how you promoted others.
9. God won't ask what your job title was, but will ask if you
performed your job to the best of your ability.
10. God won't ask what you did to help yourself, but will ask
what you did to help others.
11. God won't ask how many friends you had, but will ask how
many people to whom you were a true friend.
12. God won't ask what you did to protect your rights, but will
ask what you did to protect the rights of others.
13. God won't ask in what neighborhood you lived, but will ask
how you treated your neighbors.
14. God won't ask about the color of your skin, but will ask
about the content of your character.
15. God won't ask how many times your deeds matched your words,
but will ask how many times they didn't.
~Author Unknown~
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Whisper or Brick?
A young and successful executive was traveling down a
neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar.
He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars
and slowed down when he thought he saw something.
As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick
smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and
spun the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.
He jumped out of the car, grabbed the kid who was standing there
and pushed him against a parked car shouting,
"What do you think you are doing, boy?"
Building up a head of steam he went on, "That's a new car and
that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money.
Why did you do it?"
"Please sir, please. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do,"
pleaded the youngster.
"I threw the brick because no one else would stop..."
Tears were dripping down the boy's chin as he pointed around the
parked car.
"It's my brother, sir," he said. "He rolled off the curb and
fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."
Sobbing, the boy asked the executive, "Would you please help
me get him back into his wheelchair, sir? He's hurt and he's
too heavy for me."
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly
swelling lump in his throat. He lifted the young man back
into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped
the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was
going to be okay.
"Thank you and may God bless you, sir," the grateful child
said to him. The man then watched the little boy push his
brother toward their home.
It was a long walk back to his Jaguar...a long slow walk.
He never did repair the side door.
He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast
that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.
God whispers in your soul and speaks to your heart.
Sometimes when you don't have time to listen,
He has to throw a brick at you.
It's your choice:
Listen to the whisper...
or wait for the brick.
~Author Unknown~
neighborhood street, going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar.
He was watching for kids darting out from between parked cars
and slowed down when he thought he saw something.
As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick
smashed into the Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and
spun the Jag back to the spot where the brick had been thrown.
He jumped out of the car, grabbed the kid who was standing there
and pushed him against a parked car shouting,
"What do you think you are doing, boy?"
Building up a head of steam he went on, "That's a new car and
that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money.
Why did you do it?"
"Please sir, please. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do,"
pleaded the youngster.
"I threw the brick because no one else would stop..."
Tears were dripping down the boy's chin as he pointed around the
parked car.
"It's my brother, sir," he said. "He rolled off the curb and
fell out of his wheelchair and I can't lift him up."
Sobbing, the boy asked the executive, "Would you please help
me get him back into his wheelchair, sir? He's hurt and he's
too heavy for me."
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly
swelling lump in his throat. He lifted the young man back
into the wheelchair and took out his handkerchief and wiped
the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that everything was
going to be okay.
"Thank you and may God bless you, sir," the grateful child
said to him. The man then watched the little boy push his
brother toward their home.
It was a long walk back to his Jaguar...a long slow walk.
He never did repair the side door.
He kept the dent to remind him not to go through life so fast
that someone has to throw a brick at you to get your attention.
God whispers in your soul and speaks to your heart.
Sometimes when you don't have time to listen,
He has to throw a brick at you.
It's your choice:
Listen to the whisper...
or wait for the brick.
~Author Unknown~
Monday, July 12, 2010
The Weaver
My life is just a weaving
Between my Lord and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaves so skillfully.
Sometimes He weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And explain the reasons why-
The dark threads are as needful,
In The Weaver's skillful hands
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
~B.M. Franklin~
Between my Lord and me.
I cannot choose the colors
He weaves so skillfully.
Sometimes He weaveth sorrow
And I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper
And I the underside.
Not 'til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly
Will God unroll the canvas
And explain the reasons why-
The dark threads are as needful,
In The Weaver's skillful hands
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.
~B.M. Franklin~
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