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| << November12, 2007 - [Pakadevas~Sunday Inspirationals] |
November23, 2007 - Pakadevas~Happy Thanksgiving to our American friends! >> |
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((Welcome everyone)) to our Sunday Inspirationals. Most of these were sent in by some of you TO the rest of you:) If you have something to add, or a request...send it along, we print them all, within reason...this *news-letter is for you! Thank you all...Patsy xoxoxo This is the place. We have a *interesting finds, *contests, beauty, crafts & recipes *news* Mon.- Sat. & have added this Inspirational one for Sundays only...For our NEW PEOPLE; you have arrived at Pakadevas from our *site, or others we advertise with, *news-, -search -engines etc. Enjoy your stay:) http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com Daily-news http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/news.html *Leaving us *instructions are at the bottom of any ...news... Please go see your Prayer Requests for today: http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/PrayerRequests.html ~To see Pakadevas Archives: http://www.archives.ezinester.com/97178 What?!! Not a member of PakadevasFreebees yet? Join Here:) http://www.ezinester.com/mpb/ml_fs.cgi?topic=97178 Beautiful notes from you:) I'm praying for everyone on this list that God will send the Blessing of Abraham to the family in need did you try crisis and liheap for your gas bill? There is a lot of help out there but no one will tell you about it try everything there's also community groups that will come to your aid. I pray you get help soon you are in my prayers I've been there. God Bless Susan * * Please ~Vote...we (you & me) can be #1:) http://www.top50.to/inclick.php?ID=20600 aol link (\o/) "When you make a mistake, don't look back at it long. Take the reason of the thing into your mind, and then look forward. Mistakes are lessons of wisdom. The past cannot be changed. The future is yet in your power." -Phyllis Bottome (\o/) (\o/) As you got up this morning, I watched you, and hoped you would talk to me, even if it was just a few words, asking my opinion or thanking me for something good that happened in your life yesterday. But I noticed you were too busy, trying to find the right outfit to wear. When you ran around the house getting ready, I knew there would be a few minutes for you to stop and say hello, but you were to busy. At one point you had to wait fifteen minutes with nothing to do except sit in a chair. Then I saw you spring to your feet. I thought you wanted to talk to me but you ran to the phone and called a friend to get the latest gossip instead. I watched patiently all day long. With all our activities I guess you were too busy to say anything to me. I noticed that before lunch you looked around, maybe you felt embarrassed to talk to me-that is why you didn't bow your head. You glanced three or four tables over and you noticed some of your friends talking to me briefly before they ate, but you didn't. That's okay. There is still more time left, and I hope that you will talk to me yet. You went home and it seems as if you had lots of things to do. After a few of them were done, you turned on the TV. I don't know if you like TV or not, just about anything goes there and you spend a lot of time each day in front of it not thinking about anything, just enjoying the show. I waited patiently again as you watched the TV and ate your meal, but again you didn't talk to me. Bedtime I guess you felt too tired. After you said goodnight to your family you plopped into bed and fell asleep in no time. That's okay because you may not realize that I am always there for you.. I've got patience, more than you will ever know...I even want to teach you how to be patient with others as well. I love you so much that I wait everyday for a nod, prayer or thought, or a thankful part of your heart. It is hard to have a one-sided conversation. Well, you are getting up once again. Once again I will wait, with nothing but love for you. Hoping that today you will give me some time. Have a nice day! Your friend, GOD Thank you Renie:) (\o/) (\o/) 17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father, Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last. Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School. Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them-notes from classmates and teachers, his homework. Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said. Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted. The Moores framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him." Brian's Essay: The Room... In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every mom ent, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching. A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in t heir exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast wasted time I knew that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it.. The title was "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled i n my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark , so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written. "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."-Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." Thank you Elaine & Arnie:) (\o/) (\o/) May your day be uplifted, filled with sunshine and warmth. The shining rainbows of hope, the white clouds of dreams, the gentle softness of breeze, and the sweet smell of fresh air May your day be uplifted from start to end, filled with joy and happiness, untroubled and serene. (\o/) (\o/) I Know that I am Indian There are things in life to ponder Questions we must ask~ But one thing I know is true I am Indian at last ~~~~~ When I hear winds blowing around all earthly things And "hear" unheard voices As all creation sings ~~~~~ I dare not question my connection with the dusty plains I feel the strength of Indian blood flowing through my veins. ~~~~~ When I hear the drums beat steady and view the eyes of pain resulting from the going through of many years of shame ~~~~~ I dare not question my connection with those gone on before me I feel their saddness and their grief I am Indian, don't you see? ~~~~~ When I see the courage now of those who walk this road The strong committment to the cause the willingness to carry this load ~~~~~ I dare not question my connection to the heart beats of native-kin I feel their strength, our spirits fly Together we will win ~~~~~ The thing that touches me the most are the faces of the children Brown skin, black hair, you can tell that they are Indian ~~~~~ They question not the blood lines They question what it means, to be native in this world and face struggles yet unseen ~~~~~ We must tell them everything They must be told it all To be native, means Creator "made" so my child "Stand tall" ~~~~~ I dare not question my connection to forces all around Safe, secure, determined now I AM INDIAN, and I am FOUND! ~~~~~ ~~? lytespirit~~12/15/00 "All things are to be shared, only then can the beauty of them be fully appreciated!" Thank you Marsha & Loid:) (\o/) (\o/) "I am only one, but still I am one; I cannot do everything; but still I can do something; and because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do." -Edward Everett Hale (\o/) (\o/) To all of you from me:) Whenever I'm disappointed with my spot in life, I stop and think about little Jamie Scott. Jamie was trying out for a part in the school play. His mother told me that he'd set his heart on being in it, though she feared he would not be chosen. On the day the parts were awarded, I went with her to collect him after school. Jamie rushed up to her, eyes shining with pride and excitement. "Guess what, Mom," he shouted, and then said those words that will remain a lesson to me..... "I've been chosen to clap and cheer." Thank you Carla:) How awesome is that? We all need people to clap & cheer for us...let's cheer someone on today! Take care of yourselves and your loved ones! Patsy quoting Rob Love & hugs to all from Patsy & Kay xoxoxo Remembering Rob 1-10 http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/RememberingRob.html RememberingRob10 (still in progress) http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com/RememberingRob10.html (\o/) Please take a moment & vote for Pakadevas:) http://www.top50.to/inclick.php?ID=20600 Have a blessed day! Patsy *S* ---Important-Disclaimer at the bottom of this page--- Please Read. http://www.pakadevasfreebees.com This e-news-letter uses third party *ads & *links & *swaps with other -web-sites, if you no longer wish to stay with us, please follow to the end of this issue & -un-sub-scribe, otherwise, we take it as your agreement to receive such articles in our news. Thank you for your co-operation in this matter. Our mailing address for new mailing rules under the new act. Please only use this for friendly mail:) Thank you...Patsy *S* Patsy Rideout Pakadevas-Freebees PO Box 448, Thessalon Ontario, Canada P0R1L0 *Con`tact Patsy: rpkdv@nf.aibn.com If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it. ( \ / ) ( \()/ ) ( / \ ) TAKE THIS LITTLE ANGEL ( / \/ \ ) AND KEEP HER CLOSE TO YOU / \ SHE IS YOUR GUARDIAN ANGEL ( ) SENT TO WATCH OVER YOU ____ Thank you Jane K:) ?//// \\\\, ___________ *?? o?`* /__/ _/\_ ____/\ ```)?(??? | | | | | | | || |l±±±±| ?,.-*°? ?,.-*~*~*-.,? `°*-. :?° *~*~*-..,? "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." We'd love to see you stay, but, should you want to go, go here: |
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| << November12, 2007 - [Pakadevas~Sunday Inspirationals] |
November23, 2007 - Pakadevas~Happy Thanksgiving to our American friends! >> |
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