When the heart’s tap root hits pain, angels cry. Do you feel it? Do you feel them, something, somewhere, swirling, moving, circling the soul as the root draws up pain watering the heart making it swarthy and bruised?
Some people, some personalities cannot get away from the pain. It’s not that they don’t deal with their own. They do. It’s that some can’t get away from other’s pain.
Sometimes out of the blue it can hit you, in the store, watching TV, hearing a story, understanding what has happened. The person’s pain, both shown, and even more intense, the hidden pain, grabs hold with a dry ice-cold grip burning the very beats of one’s own heart.
It can’t be explained with words, for words don’t express it. Letters can’t convey it, and the alphabet becomes nothing more than scissors on the tongue. You can’t get out what has gone in. Continue reading No More Angel Tears
~~I was driving and a bluebird flew into my windshield today. Feathers went everywhere as the little guy toppled lifelessly in the road behind me. I feel terrible about it.
I think it went down like this:~~
Several months ago, Mr. and Mrs. Bluebird worked daylight to dusk to build a nest. Mr. Bluebird made sure the structure was strong enough for a brood of growing, rowdy chicks, while Mrs. Bluebird was sensational at finding just the right lining to keep her chicks comfortable.
Once the eggs were laid, Mrs. Bluebird took a two-week sabbatical to sit and keep the eggs warm.
When hatching day finally arrived, each egg started shaking within hours of each other. From inside the shell, each hatchling broke loose and used all of its energy to escape the hard shell. After breaking free, each hatching laid wet, exhausted and gasping for air. Continue reading Cobalt Didn’t Listen
When Jesus healed ten people, only one returned to Him to say thank you. (Luke 17:11-19) Jesus even asked where the other nine were. They were all blessed. They were all miraculously healed. They all gained life over a slow excruciating death, yet only one even bothered to come back and say thank you.
That’s horrible! It’s wrong on so many levels! But then I cringe when I realize I’m not in the 10% of people who are truly grateful. I don’t always go back and say thank you. I’m ashamed of that.
I once read it’s impossible for an ungrateful person to truly be happy. Makes sense! A lot of sense! Continue reading 10% Thankful
I, like you, feel deep compassion for the people of Santa Fe, and every other school, movie theatre, club, church and public location that has experienced a mass murder.
What to do? What do we do?
Well meaning people are now looking to, in fact, clamoring for the government to “fix” the problem and solve the dilemma. People are demanding legislation for sentences for “hate crimes”, creating programs to treat mental illness, gun control restrictions and regulating behaviors.
In my simple mind, it’s a paradox. It seems common sense that after planting plum trees, you get plums. You get the fruit of what you plant.
Stay with me.
Continue reading It’s Always Been About The Heart
We saw the toddler boy with his parents waiting to board a tour of Mayan ruins in Mexico. That’s not normally where you’d take a toddler on vacation, but he was too little to care. Besides, it was his parent’s vacation.
The toddler was clinging to his parents, no one else. The mother even told a well-meaning worker trying to help them off the bus that he never, ever went to strangers.
Two hours later, standing a distance from the Chichen Izu ruins, the toddler pitter patted away from his parents right up to my wife, Janet. He looked up at her and held up his arms to be picked up.
She simply said, “Awe”, reached down and scooped him up in her arms. The little boy looked at her closely, then laid his head on her shoulder in peaceful contentment. Continue reading A Child’s Wisdom
Over dinner my youngest daughter, Jessica, said she has the STAAR English test, a standardized, mandated test in Texas schools. She’s nervous about having to write about some randomly assigned topic in just 45 minutes of time.
Long story short, I agreed to do the same. She quickly picked out a random topic: Should you ALWAYS tell the truth?
I was thinking puppy dogs or butterflies, but she picked a hard one.
— The STAAR test begins. The teacher gives instructions, and then turns the 45-minute hour glass over. Alright class, your test starts, NOW! —
Should you ALWAYS tell the truth? Continue reading To Tell The Truth
(This is based on a true story told to me by a Chief Juvenile Probation Officer.)
~~He knelt down on his knees, looked up at Jesus on the cross, and shook his fist. “I hate you”, he said loudly, “I hate you.” He said it over and over. Soon he was screaming with every fiber of his being. Louder and louder, with more and more pent-up emotions streaming out of his voice. “I hate you! I HATE you! I HATE YOU!”~~
The boy had suffered emotional and verbal abuse from his mother since his birth. When his father was around, which wasn’t a lot, it was always the same song, second verse. He could count on one hand the times a physical beating for some slight or imagined offense hadn’t followed a visit with his father. Continue reading I Hate You, But Not Really
My doctor told me during the exam it was time.
I took a deep breath. I knew this day was coming. I resolved then and there to cowboy up and get it done.
I’ve been flying under the radar for several years. No problems. No issues. No medicine. Just the way it should be!
But this year, instead of the vampire nurse just draining a week’s worth of bone marrow work from my arm, the doctor tells me he wants to check out several other things.
First, a sleep apnea study — No problem. Sleep is my one of my natural talents! Passed with flying colors!
Second, a stress test — Continue reading The Ire of Staying Healthy
The lady blurted out to the Walmart Customer Service worker, “I’m the one you called a few minutes ago about the purse!”
I was waiting in line and glanced at her. The worker asked her to describe the purse. She did, and was told to wait just a minute while the worker went to the back office.
She was casually dressed in blue jeans, flip flops and a bright, pink Fight Breast Cancer t-shirt. Her hair was about half an inch long over her entire head. In fact, I wasn’t sure if she was being treated for cancer, or just wearing her hair short. She waited with an anxious, lip chewing expression on her face. A minute later, the Walmart worker came out holding a small red change purse.
Continue reading Little or Lot Faithful
He whizzed by in the gas station heading to the drive through car wash around back. If I hadn’t stopped, he would’ve hit me. He didn’t even notice. His mind was on his cell phone call, not driving. I ended up waiting in line right behind him.
He got out of his truck while in line to unscrew his radio antennae. On his back window was a bumper sticker with “Coach” and his first name after that. He was still talking on his phone with great animation. Continue reading Is It Really Worth That?