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Thursday, March 27, 2008

Our Healing Process Helps Our Family

If you're working on your own inner healing, you will function as an inspirational role model and will relieve the burden of everyone around you, especially your family members. Children, particularly, always pick up, energetically, their parents' problems, issues, or patterns and perpetuate them in their own lives. If the parent heals on the emotional level, he or she will pass that legacy on to the children, who will not have to deal with the same issues in their own lives.
This is true whether or not your children are grown. If you as a parent begin to deal with your own issues and learn to take better care of yourself, love yourself more, and do your own healing, even your grown children who live across the country or around the world will feel it on some level and will benefit from your process.

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As I heal, my whole family is healing.
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Sunday, March 23, 2008

On Attitude

"An optimist expects his dreams to come true; a pessimist expects his nightmares to." Laurence J. Peter

Sometimes the only thing we can change is our attitude--and that is enough. Our attitude can be much more important than the objective reality of the situation. One person who's stuck in traffic fumes at fate, snarling, "Why does this always happen to me?" Meanwhile, the person in the car just behind, stuck in the same impasse, sees the first person's "lost" time as "found" time -- the perfect opportunity to study a new language, meditate, or think through a problem without the interruption of a telephone call or visitors. One person sees only a problem and responds accordingly; the other sees an opportunity and likewise acts accordingly. The traffic jam is the same of both of them, but their attitudes about it are different --as are their blood pressures.
Some see the past as a cruel sentence of doom dispensed by an avenging God. Others see it as an opportunity, fairly given or not, to build strength and gain wisdom with the help of a loving God. The difference is all in the attitude.

Co-dependence versus Interdependence

Co-dependence is the unconscious dependency that exists when we don't recognize and accept our need for others. Interdependence is the conscious acknowledgment of our need for one another.
The need for connection and contact between human beings is very important to acknowledge. Not only do we need intimate relationships with our partners, nuclear families, and close friends, but also we need a sense of connectedness to an extended family, tribe, or community. We need to have a feeling of belonging to a larger group. Ultimately, we need to feel that we are part of the whole human family and connected to all beings on earth.

Sunday, March 16, 2008

Something To Think About

When William Stidger taught at Boston University, he once reflected upon the great number of unthanked people in his life. Those who had helped nurture him, inspire him or cared enough about him to leave a lasting impression.

One was a schoolteacher he'd not heard of in many years. But he remembered that she had gone out of her way to put a love of verse in him, and Will had loved poetry all his life. He wrote a letter of thanks to her.

The reply he received, written in the feeble scrawl of the aged, began, "My dear Willie." He was delighted. Now over 50, bald and a professor, he didn't think there was a person left in the world who would call him "Willie." Here is a copy of that letter:

"My dear Willie,

I cannot tell you how much your note meant to me. I am in my eighties, living alone in a small room, cooking my own meals, lonely and, like the last leaf of autumn, lingering behind. You will be interested to know that I taught school for 50 years and yours is the first note of appreciation I ever received. It came on a blue-cold morning and it cheered me as nothing has in many years."

Not prone to cry easily, Will wept over that note.

She was one of the GREAT UNTHANKED PEOPLE from Will's past. You know them. We all do. The teacher who made a difference. That coach we'll never forget. The music instructor or Sunday school worker who helped us to believe in ourselves. That scout leader who cared.


We all remember people who shaped our lives in various ways. People whose influence changed us. Will Stidger found a way to show his appreciation -- he wrote them letters.

Who are some of the unthanked people from your past? It may not be too late to say, "Thanks."

Thursday, March 13, 2008

57 Cents That Made History

A sobbing little girl stood near a small church from which she had been turned away because it 'was too crowded'. "I can't go to Sunday School," she sobbed to the pastor as he walked by. Seeing her shabby, unkempt appearance, the pastor guessed the reason nd , taking her by the hand, took her inside and found a place for her in the Sunday School class. The child was so touched that she went to bed that night thinking of the children who have no place to worship Jesus.

Some two years later, this child lay dead in one of the poor tenement buildings and the parents called for the kind-hearted pastor, who had befriended their daughter, to handle the final arrangements. As her poor little body was being moved, a worn and crumpled purse was found which seemed to have been rummaged from some trash dump. Inside was found 57 cents and a note scribble in childish handwriting which read, "This is to help build the little church bigger so more children can go to Sunday school."

For two years she had saved for this offering of love. When the pastor tearfully read that note, he knew instantly what he would do.

Carrying this note and the cracked, red pocketbook to the pulpit, he told the story of her unselfish love and devotion. He challenged his deacons to get busy and raise enough money for the larger building. But the story does not end there!

A newspaper learned of the story and published it. It was read by a realtor who offered them a parcel of land worth many thousands. When told that the church could not pay so much, he offered it for a 57 cent payment.

Church members made large subscriptions. Checks came from far and wide. Within five years the little girl's gift had increased to $250,000.00 - a huge sum for that time (near the turn of the century).

Her unselfish love had paid large dividends.

When you are in the city of Philadelphia, look up Temple Baptist Church, with a seating capacity of 3,300, and Temple University, where hundreds of students are trained. Have a look, too, at the Good Samaritan Hospital and at a Sunday School building which houses hundreds of Sunday scholars, so that no child in the area will ever need to be left outside at Sunday school time.

In one of the rooms of this building may be seen the picture of the sweet face of the little girl whose 57 cents, so sacrificially saved, made such remarkable history. Alongside of it is a portrait of her kind pastor, Dr. Russell H. Conwell, author of the book, "Acres of Diamonds."

Saturday, March 8, 2008

Examine Yourself, Watch Yourself

One day all the employees reached the office and they saw a big advice on the door on which it was written:
"Yesterday the person who has been hindering your growth in this company passed away. We invite you to join the funeral in the room that has been prepared in the gym".

In the beginning, they all got sad for the death of one of their colleagues, but after a while they started getting curious to know who was that man who hindered the growth of his colleagues and the company itself.

The excitement in the gym was such that security agents were ordered to control the crowd within the room.

The more people reached the coffin, the more the excitement heated up. Everyone thought: "Who is this guy who was hindering my progress? Well,
at least he died!".

One by one the thrilled employees got closer to the coffin, and when they looked inside it they suddenly became speechless. They stood nearby the coffin, shocked and in silence, as if someone had touched the deepest part of their soul.

There was a mirror inside the coffin: everyone who looked inside it could see himself.

There was also a sign next to the mirror that said:
"There is only one person who is capable to set limits to your growth: it is YOU."

You are the only person who can revolutionize your life.

You are the only person who can influence your happiness, your realization and your success.
You are the only person who can help yourself.
Your life does not change when your boss changes, when your friends change, when your parents change, when your partner changes, when your company changes.

Your life changes when YOU change, when you go beyond your limiting beliefs, when you realize that you are the only one responsible for your life.

"The most important relationship you can have, is the one you have with yourself"

Examine yourself, watch yourself. Don't be afraid of difficulties, impossibilities and losses: be a winner, build yourself and your reality.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Angels

In September 1960, I woke up one morning with six hungry babies and just 75 cents in my pocket. Their father was gone.

The boys ranged from three months to seven years; their sister was two. Their Dad had never been much more than a presence they feared. Whenever they heard his tires crunch on the gravel driveway they would scramble to hide under their beds. He did manage to leave 15 dollars a week to buy groceries. Now that he had decided to leave, there would be no more beatings, but no food either. If there was a welfare system in effect in southern Indiana at that time, I certainly knew nothing about it.

I scrubbed the kids until they looked brand new and then put on my best homemade dress. I loaded them into the rusty old 51 Chevy and drove off to find a job. The seven of us went to every factory, store and restaurant in our small town. No luck. The kids stayed, crammed into the car and tried to be quiet while I tried to convince whomever would listen that I was willing to learn or do anything. I had to have a job. Still no luck.

The last place we went to, just a few miles out of town, was an old Root Beer Barrel drive-in that had been converted to a truck stop. It was called the Big Wheel. An old lady named Granny owned the place and she peeked out of the window from time to time at all those kids. She needed someone on the graveyard shift, 11 at night until seven in the morning. She paid 65 cents an hour and I could start that night. I raced home and called the teenager down the street that baby-sat for people. I bargained with her to come and sleep on my sofa for a dollar a night. She could arrive with her pajamas on and the kids would already be asleep. This seemed like a good arrangement to her, so we made a deal.

That night, when the little ones and I knelt to say our prayers we all thanked God for finding Mommy a job. And so I started at the Big Wheel. When I got home in the mornings I woke the baby-sitter up and sent her home with one dollar of my tip money-fully half of what I averaged every night.

As the weeks went by, heating bills added another strain to my meager wage. The tires on the old Chevy had the consistency of penny balloons and began to leak. I had to fill them with air on the way to work and again every morning before I could go home.

One bleak fall morning, I dragged myself to the car to go home and found four tires in the back seat. New tires! There was no note, no nothing, just those beautiful brand new tires. Had angels taken up residence in Indiana? I wondered. I made a deal with the owner of the local service station. In exchange for his mounting the new tires, I would clean up his office. I remember it took me a lot longer to scrub his floor than it did for him to do the tires.

I was now working six nights instead of five and it still wasn't enough. Christmas was coming and I knew there would be no money for toys for the kids. I found a can of red paint and started repairing and painting some old toys. Then I hid them in the basement so there would be something for Santa to deliver on Christmas morning. Clothes were a worry too. I was sewing patches on top of patches on the boys pants and soon they would be too far gone to repair.

On Christmas Eve the usual customers were drinking coffee in the Big Wheel. These were the truckers, Les, Frank, and Jim, and a state trooper named Joe. A few musicians were hanging around after a gig at the Legion and were dropping nickels in the pinball machine. The regulars all just sat around and talked through the wee hours of the morning and then left to get home before the sun came up. When it was time for me to go home at seven o'clock on Christmas morning I hurried to the car. I was hoping the kids wouldn't wake up before I managed to get home and get the presents from the basement and place them under the tree. (We had cut down a small cedar tree by the side of the road down by the dump.)

It was still dark and I couldn't see much, but there appeared to be some dark shadows in the car--or was that just a trick of the night? Something certainly looked different, but it was hard to tell what. When I reached the car I peered warily into one of the side windows. Then my jaw dropped in amazement. My old battered Chevy was full--full to the top with boxes of all shapes and sizes.

I quickly opened the driver's side door, scrambled inside and kneeled in the front facing the back seat. Reaching back, I pulled off the lid of the top box. Inside was a whole case of little blue jeans, sizes 2-10! I looked inside another box: It was full of shirts to go with the jeans. Then I peeked inside some of the other boxes: There were candy and nuts and bananas and bags of groceries. There was an enormous ham for baking, and canned vegetables and potatoes. There was pudding and Jell-O and cookies, pie filling and flour. There was a whole bag of laundry supplies and cleaning items.

And there were five toy trucks and one beautiful little doll. As I drove back through empty streets as the sun slowly rose on the most amazing Christmas Day of my life, I was sobbing with gratitude. And I will never forget the joy of that day. Yes, there were angels in Indiana that long-ago December. And they all hung out at the Big Wheel truck stop.

What an opportunity Omega is giving us to be 'angels' for many who are struggling. ...May we never forget our blessing about to be and that it is NOT meant just for us.