oh what a beautiful morning, as I sit here by my open window feeling the brush of the morning chill, looking out toward the mountains, the hint of a sunrise just beyond the ridge...the smell of my beautiful flowers on my porch wafting in and giving my nose much joy! The birds are singing God's praises that they have awakened once more to provide joy to anyone who will listen. I might not be where I expected to be at age (almost) 52, but I sure am glad that I am here, able to sit each day and share the gospel with anyone who will listen, I sure am glad I am awake this morning with a chance to get it right today! I know as long as I live on this earth that I will never get it totally "right" but I will try, try, try, doing what God needs me to do so that one day I can stand at the right hand of him and hear his beautiful words telling me I did my best!
In prayer this morning I lifted each of you, I asked God to see your needs and to make provision for you in whatever you are going though, I prayed for the little 3 year old who was run over by a trailer filled with gravel, as of yesterday she continued to struggle for breath with an undecided prognosis. I asked God to bless her with the strength she is in need of to overcome the damage to her small frail body, to allow his breath to be hers until she can take her own, and to bless her family with knowledge that he is there, he is holding that baby in his arms and that His will, will be done. I lifted each one who have posted for special prayer on facebook this morning and I prayed for myself that God will see us through our storms and allow us to see the rainbow...we are swimming toward the lighthouse and even though our limbs are tired from fighting the tumultuous battering waves we call life, we will never lose sight of the shore and the joy it will bring when we are on solid ground. Father God I humbly ask in the name of Jesus Christ, our savior, that you bless each and every one of us with what is needed for us to come ashore and bask in the beauty of your eternal light. Amen
I have posted this story before, and when I came across it and re~read it this morning it had the same effect on me as the first time I read it, wiping tears from my face I decided to share it again, the message is the most important one in life....let the things you do today be fond memories to others for years to come...make a difference NOW!!!!
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 whacked 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 ear, "Information."
"I hurt my finger," I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.
"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.
"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.
"Are you bleeding?" the voice asked.
"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."
"Can you open your icebox?" she asked.
I said I could. "Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your
finger," said the voice.
After that, I called "Information, Please" for everything. I asked her for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.
Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called "Information, Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child, but I was inconsolable. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"
She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in." Somehow I felt better.
Another day I was on the telephone. "Information, Please."
"Information," said the now familiar voice.
"How do you spell fix?" I asked.
All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. "Information, Please" belonged in that old wooden box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall.
As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.
A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking
what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, "Information, Please." Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well, "Information."
I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could you please tell me how to spell fix?"
There was a long pause. Then came the soft-spoken answer, "I guess your finger must have healed by now."
I laughed. "So it's really still you," I said. "I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?"
"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me? I never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls."
I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.
"Please do," she said. "Just ask for Sally."
Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, "Information."
I asked for Sally.
"Are you a friend?" she asked.
"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," she said. "Sally has been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago."
Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name was Paul?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you."
The note said, "Tell him I still say there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."
I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.
Never underestimate the impression you may make on others. Whose life have you touched today?
Author Unknown
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