The Newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world
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Nov 10, 2005?
Today??™s Announcements:
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? It is the last day for all you guys and gals to vote for the Halloween Contest.? The winner will be announced in the
Nov 11th newsletter.
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Now on to the good stuff..........
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Today's Queue Stories ~**~**~**~
? The Beach
Maria Doherty
As kids, summers meant Sundays spent at the beach.
At the crack of dawn, my sister and me would be up, waking our favorite uncle (only for the beach Sundays please! We could afford to be picky. We had 5 uncles you see!) from the deep slumber he had fallen into just a couple of hours ago:-)
When he was finally up, the yelling to friends, who lived across the road, would start. Waking at least half the neighborhood in the process:-) At last we would be away, waving wildly to the milkman and the paperboys who, if I may add, were rude
enough to never, ever wave back! ;-)
The beach being around 10 hops, skips and jumps from the house, we were there even before we realized it. We shot out of the car, squealing (I still wonder why we did that:-) like little pigs and embraced the sand like we had never seen a beach before!
With floats on, we pretended to be expert surfers and rode the (imaginary) waves. We then chased the impish waves to the shore and competed with the wind. In between all of this, we also in jested a lot of the salt water and had marathon coughing, sputtering fits!:-) When the water tired us out, we built sand castles that would make any architect proud, complete with moats et all. Seashells adorned our necks and hair and we imagined we were mermaids. When that didn??™t hold our
interest for long, we dug my uncle into the sand (with his help of course) so only his face was visible. We pretended to be some sort of tourist attraction as we solemnly sat surrounding my uncles bobbing head and invisible torso. A lot of laughs are what got out of it, looking at various expressions on the faces of our fellow beachcombers and I still smile when I remember this :-)
Back to the water again we would be doing what we did before.
As the afternoon sun came up and our little selves were finally exhausted, what with being (imaginary) champion surfers;-) we would reluctantly call it a day and gathering our paraphernalia would head towards the second favorite part of the day.
Junk food!
Dripping paani puri??™s that inevitably cracked up
before we could bite into them, crunchy sev-puri??™s that tickled our taste buds and spicy ragda-pattice that made our eyes water and at least 2 ice-golas each were on the menu almost every beach Sunday:-)))))))) After eating till we were ready to burst, there was always place for that last ice cream cone that we devoured on the way home.
Mums Sunday siesta was interrupted (at 7 you didn??™t even know the word ???compassion??™ existed) as we ran through the house (I still wonder why we did this too) spreading sand everywhere with mum and the maid right behind us yelling ???go to the bathroom!!??™ Bathed, clean and very, very tired we would finally sleep peacefully, usually the whole day away.
Along with the teens, arrived this strange dislike for the beach. My sudden phobia
of water too started around just then. I had a thousand excuses to avoid the beach. ???The salty sea air makes my hair all frizzy??? (it did too) ??? My skin breaks out due to the same??? (never did) ???My eyes water when I walk on the beach??? (biggest load of crap I ever invented!) and the final beauty ??? I am an air sign, hence I don??™t like the beach??? (Phew! And I wonder why no one ever fell for THAT one!)
So, I inevitably passed the beach when I drove by and briefly glanced at it, but never, ever visited again. Relatives who dropped down to visit during the summer hols were given the cursory tour of Juhu beach, but I never played tour guide for that.
In spite of living so close to it, there was a huge distance between the beach and me. Not this beach. Any beach. For some strange reason, which I never cared to analyze, I just hated being anywhere near sand and water.
Then last week, another part of life turned a full circle. It was, but natural, that a visit to Goa would be incomplete without a visit to its beaches. Especially when the hotel we were at had its own private one.
On the first evening I reluctantly accompanied my sister armed with my books and music. Sitting as far away as I could with my favorite music playing in my ears and my eyes scanning the pages of the book I was currently
in the midst of, was what I intended to do.
But as I set foot on the soft, warm sand my intentions did a complete u-turn. It was something inexplicable. Music and books forgotten I walked on the sand, savoring each step like it was precious. Hard packed, washed by the waves sand, welcomed my next steps. The warm sand squelching between my toes bought back childhood memories and my face was split into a wide grin
Books and music forgotten I wanted to enjoy every moment there. I walked for a long, long while, I made a sand castle and I dodged the waves, just like before. The waves were huge that day, and like naughty little children they jostled each another to be the first to reach the shore. The sand was white and the setting sun added just the right
bit of color to this serene, beautiful scene. My hair did turn frizzy, yes:-) but I enjoyed every moment of being there. All consecutive evenings were spent at the beach thereafter:-)
Peace and happiness are what I felt every time the lace edged waves curled around my ankles or I dug my heels in the warm, wet sand. As the current of the waves returning back tried to pull me with them I realized how much I had missed being here. And I fell in love with the beach again:-)
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mariadoherty@blueyonder.co.uk
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? Thanks, Dad By Janet Seever
My father grew up as an only child of second-generation German immigrants, a rigid upbringing. In his early twenties, he married his high school sweetheart from a neighboring farm. I was the first of five children. ? Dad expected his children to excel at school and whatever else they did. As the oldest, I worked hard to meet his expectations.
In this era, fathers did not hug or kiss their children. Praise was sparse because it might ???go to their heads and make them proud.???
I remember a few occasions when we did things together. Dad would carefully mark rows in the garden early each spring when the ground was still cold and damp. My brother and I would follow him as he planted the first long rows of peas. I also remember planting spruce seedlings with
him as part of a conservation project. ?
A few times I fished with Dad and my younger brother in Dad??™s old wooden boat. When the lake was high, huge sunfish hid around the roots of up-ended willow trees.
How I longed for Dad to say, ???I love you??? and give me a hug, but it never happened. Did he approve of me? It was difficult to tell in my teenage years.
I grew up, graduated from the university, and eventually married. Unfortunately, my husband and I often lived hundreds of miles away from my family, and at times our work took us overseas. Mom wrote weekly, telling of events back home, what my dad was doing, and news of my siblings. But Dad never wrote. He left that up to Mom.
When we came home to the farm, our visits were cordial, but Dad and I
were never close like some fathers and daughters. ?
In 1986, it was time to say good-bye for another of our overseas assignments. My husband, two children and I, stood with Mom and Dad, our arms around each other. My husband prayed for God to watch over all us while we were apart.
Afterward, I hugged Dad and said, ???I love you.??? It was still awkward.
? ???I love you too,??? he said and I noticed him brushing a tear from his eyes. How I wished we had been closer over the years.
My parents were in their early sixties, so I expected to have many more times together in the future. We??™d be back from our work in Australia in four years.
Then two and a half years later, a life-shattering call came from home. That Sunday afternoon, Dad had been snowmobiling around the edge of the farm property, visiting neighbors. When he failed to return home, my brother-in-law searched for him and found him in the snow, dead of a massive heart attack.
Friends urged me to go home to Minnesota for the funeral. ???You??™re not doing this for your father,??? they said. ???You??™re doing this for yourself.??? ? How true it proved to be.
At the funeral, people
had wonderful stories of Dad, a man of integrity with a quiet faith, Their stories were fresh; recent. They knew him so well. Even my youngest brother, twenty years younger than I, had related to Dad in a different way from me??”as a friend.
Dad, how I wish I had really known you! I screamed inwardly. It was like a song without an ending, a book with the last pages torn out.
I grieved, for Dad and the close relationship that would never be.
Then, three years after his death, my mother died as well.
After the funeral, all of us five adult children came back to the farm and sifted through the treasures we had left behind in the attic of the family farmhouse. I was going through a box of my memorabilia
when I came across a small canvas bag. Inside the bag were drawings I had done, old letters, and photos. In the midst, I discovered two letters from my dad written years back when I was finishing university??”the only personal thing I had in his handwriting. How could I have forgotten that they existed?
I carefully pulled out the yellowing paper. The first one was about things on the farm. The second was about an honor society I had been elected to at the university.
When I read the first paragraph of the second letter, my eyes welled with tears, for he had written, ???How proud I am to have a daughter like you. . .???
The mother of two adult children, Janet Seever lives in Calgary, Alberta, and writes for Word Alive magazine. Her stories have appeared on Storytime Tapestry numerous times in the past. "Holding on to Hope," which appeared in July, was the story of her husband's struggle with a major stroke. You can reach her at jseever1@shaw.ca and read more of her writing at www.inscribe.org/janetseever
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Sunday Sonlight
Sandra Lewis Pringle?
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So He replied to the messengers,
"Go back and report to John what you have seen and heard:
The blind receive sight, the lame walk,
those who have leprosy are cured,
the deaf hear,
the dead are raised,
and the good news is preached to the poor."
Luke 7:22
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What Hath We Been Given?
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? ? Forgiveness of sins is the beginning of becoming new creatures in Christ Jesus.
This forgiveness that we receive, stems from the unconditional love of Our Father.
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? ? Healing in our bodies makes us strong so that we may rise up to meet the
challenges that confront us in confidence,
and empowers us to go forth and
share the Word of our healings, to witness.? Healing is granted from the
unconditional love of Our Father.
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? ? Renewed minds bring forth the ability to perceive and understand the
Word of God, the things which the naked eye cannot see, the wisdom and
truths which He imparts to us.? ? As we receive His wisdom, understanding,
and revelations, we are able to have a closer relationship with Him,
one on one.? ? This communion comes from the love of Our Father for
His children.
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? ? ? Promises keep us encouraged, rather than discouraged, in days of battle.
Whenever trials and tribulations hit our camps, we rest and find peace,
comfort, in His promises.? ? He promises to tend His sheep, the sheep of His
pasture.? Never sleeping or slumbering, God is a twenty-four/seven Sentry
for His children.? This tender care is given to His children, by the love of
our Everlasting Father.
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? ? Redemption from the curse, from death, is an everlasting promise, which
transcends this world . . . . .? goes far beyond it.? ? Even though we live in a
fallen world, we are delivered from the sinful nature, so that we may walk
in spirit, in His love, by His grace, in the Hope of everlasting life.
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? ? We are given authority over the powers and principalities of darkness,
during the dark nights of our souls, so that we may triumph over our
adversities, rather than fall victim to them and remain bound by them,
keeping us hindered and blocked, as we pray.
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? ? In God's perfect love, we walk in liberty, confidence, and assurance that
we are the righteousness of Almighty God in Christ Jesus, upon this earth.
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? ? We are given favor from the Most High God, the One Who is able to
decree and call forth divine anointings and appointments.? These come from
the love of Our Father, from His heart.
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? ? ? We are given divine purpose and callings of which we are able to accomplish,
through His mighty love, and mighty power, thoughtfully granted from our Father.
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? ? ? We are given trials and tribulations so that we may grow in strength, in spirit,
and come to realize that it is possible to live in this world, to walk by faith while
in it and in spirit, overcoming,
and overpowering . . . . victorious.?
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? ? ? We acquire the knowledge that we are able to graduate from degree to
degree while walking with God, from plateau to plateau, taking us from the
valleys to the mountaintops.? He is with us, all the way, because of His great
love for each of us.
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? ? ? There are many other benefits which we receive,
as children of God. The
love that He hath shown us, is very evident in the everyday events in our
lives.
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? ? ? Such a dishonor it is to God, to simply brush His goodness aside, to disown
it, to take it for granted.
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? ? ? His love for us is the basis? for our very existence.
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? ? ? Those who walk in His love, come to know Him as "Father" and know Him
as the one true Light of the world.
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? ? ? Nevertheless, still, there are those who will never believe, will hold out
until the very end in ignorance and? without vision.
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But a man who truly knows God will have vision, will acknowledge it and
seek it until it bears fruition.
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? ? The man who truly knows God will walk in wisdom and truth, and will see
for himself, that only God, only His power, can manifest itself in such love,
as He demonstrates to us.? ? Eternal life is ours . . . . Hope is ours, because of
His great love.
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? ? ? ? There is no reason to live a life in hopelessness or powerlessness,
having obtained all this, and so much more, from Our Father.
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? ? ? We may live a life abundant, a life worthy of His glory and everlasting
reward, which is incomparable to the riches, the richness of the world.
The richness of the world is evaluated and derived from the worldly's
standards, from what they know on earth.
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? ? ? ? ? How much more so,? is that of Our Father?
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? ? ? ? Take possession of your promised land, Folks,? and walk in divine grace.
God's love has made provision for each of us to do so, and as we do,
we establish our communities before Him, His Kingdom upon the earth,
making our very lives, extensions of His great love.
My name is Sandra Lewis Pringle.? Writing is, and always has been, a favorite pasttime of mine, since a child.? ? I often would make up little stories to entertain my cousins, and friends, at times we had nothing else to do.
? ? I wrote poetry at a young age, and then began to write more seriously, as the years passed.
? ? I began an inspirational greetings site, online, in 1998.? By that time, I had gathered several people who wished to read poetry, and with whom I had been sending out prayers, in answer to prayer requests.
? ? ? ? ? And since I also like to play with photography, I have recently added onto the internet, my own gallery of photos, which glorify the Presence of Almighty God all around us.
? ? ? ? I reside in North Carolina, grew up in the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains, and this is where I call home.
? ? ? I hope that if you visit any of my websites, you will enjoy and be blessed.
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Let There Be Peace
Joyce C. Lock
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? ? ? If we believe we are in the last days, we need to quit calling God's messengers 'false prophets' (Je.25:4).? Hell, fire, and brimstone preaching is not a prophet's passion, but the result of other's unbelief.? Prophets feel whatever
God feels and are honor bound to warn unbelieving people they also love.
? ? ? For fear of an antichrist or Jonestown type experience, leaders hush prophets by whatever means possible; all the while, feeling justified.? And, people continue to believe whatever they are told.
? ? ? "And (they) say, If we had been in the days of our fathers, we would not have been partakers with them in the blood of the prophets." Mt.
? ? ? Most prophets dare not come out of the closet.? 'If we talk to God, we are spiritual.? If God talks to us, we are scitsophrenic.'
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While many truly have a heart for God's people, they error in deciding when, who, and how people can serve (becoming Pharaohs, creating spiritual wounds) when all they would need do is to listen for the Spirit and let God sit on their throne.? The Spirit cannot lie.
? ? ? It makes no difference how one is qualified, as faithful is He who calls you, who also will do it.? For, it is God who builds HIS church.
? ? ? Instead, pride is placed upon one's knowledge and abilities; forgetting such will pass away.? You might notice who Jesus would become angry with (not the spiritually weak, poor, sick, or lame) but leaders who kept them that way.
? ? ? God will do whatever it takes to make sure those who are saved will be saved.? When I asked how many prophecies have to come
to pass, God answered, "As many as it takes."
? ? ? "For nation shall rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom: and there shall be famines, and pestilences, and earthquakes, in divers places.? All these are the beginning of sorrows.? Then shall they deliver you up to be afflicted, and shall kill you: and ye shall be hated of all nations for my name's sake.? And then shall many be offended, and shall betray one another, and shall hate one another," Mt. 24:7-10.
? ? ? While people look to giant earthquakes, they are missing that the very foundation of their families are being shaken; the center of their world.? The famine is spiritual, and they are starving for prophets to be allowed to show them the way, Re.22:6.
? ? ? Prophecies are happening
individually, everywhere, while the church sleeps on.? We are Jews who worship in Spirit and truth, and adopted Israelites (Ro. 9:4).
? ? ? With all the religions in the world, it is insulting God to think any have all the answers.? There is only one omnipotent, all knowing God.? Stop telling God what He believes.? Do not believe everything you hear and let us not quench the Spirit before God has had a chance to speak.
? ? ? If your life is not peace, it would be good to consider what is really going on.? God wants His throne back.? If you really want to see revival; Let My People Go, so they can serve God.
? ? ? Perhaps peace begins once we realize we are all in the same boat and God gave us gifts to help each other find our way.
WHY PARIS IS BURNING (And What You Can Do About It) by JOHANN CHRISTOPH ARNOLD: I see the problem of the third world nations especially Africa as a gear up towards a uniform; one government.? It shall get to a stage when world powers will have no other option than to directly spread their tentacles across the global, ruling with one law and government.? Mind you, it is already so but it is still indirect.? This has no much effect now; it is still low and inefficient.? Until then my fellow humans!? Although, do not expect a better world from now onward until all promises are fulfilled.? We shall soon know why, maybe when the cloned armies and civilians alike start rooming the streets and finding their ways up to the government seats.? Great TREATS AWAIT PLANET EARTH in some few years to come, maybe a decade or more.
