The Amazing One: Love

Showing posts with label Love. Show all posts

Your Divine Valentine

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY

MAY GOD FILLS YOUR HEART

WITH HIS SWEET LOVE

A Valentine may play a love song for you,
but God sings you the sweetest love song in the universe.

The Lord your God...

will rejoice over you with gladness,

He will keep you quite with his love,

He will rejoice over you with singing.

(Zephaniah 3:17)

A Valentine may give you flowers,

but God sent you the most beautiful rose of all, Jesus.

I am the rose of Sharon,

and the lily of the valleys.

(Song of Solomon 2:1)

A Valentine may take you out to dinner,

but God has invited you

to the most amazing feast ever given.

Blessed are those

who are called to the marriage supper of the Lamb!

(Revelation 19:9)

A Valentine may bring you chocolate,
but God provides you with something even sweeter, His word.

How sweet are your words to my taste,

sweeter than honey to my mouth!

(Psalm 119:103)

A Valentine may be far away,

but God is always with you.

I am with you always.

(Matthew 28:20)

A Valentine may give you something,

but God has given you everything.

God gives us richly all things to enjoy.

(1 Timothy 6:17)

A Valentine may love you for a lifetime,

but God loved you before were born

and will love you for all eternity!

Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love...

with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

(Jeremiah 31:3)

One day a young man was standing in the middle of the town proclaiming that he had the most beautiful heart in the whole valley. A large crowd gathered and they all admired his heart for it was perfect. There was not a mark or a flaw in it. Yes, they all agreed it truly was the most beautiful heart they had ever seen. The young man was very proud and boasted more loudly about his beautiful heart.

Suddenly, an old man appeared at the front of the crowd and said, "Why your heart is not nearly as beautiful as mine."

The crowd and the young man looked at the old man's heart. It was beating strongly, but full of scars, it had places where pieces had been removed and other pieces put in, but they didn't fit quite right and there were several jagged edges. In fact, in some places there were deep gouges where whole pieces were missing. The people stared -- how can he say his heart is more beautiful, they thought?

The young man looked at the old man's heart and saw its state and laughed. "You must be joking," he said. "Compare your heart with mine, mine is perfect and yours is a mess of scars and tears."

"Yes," said the old man, "Yours is perfect looking but I would never trade with you. You see, every scar represents a person to whom I have given my love - I tear out a piece of my heart and give it to them, and often they give me a piece of their heart which fits into the empty place in my heart, but because the pieces aren't exact, I have some rough edges, which I cherish, because they remind me of the love we shared.

"Sometimes I have given pieces of my heart away, and the other person hasn't returned a piece of his heart to me. These are the empty gouges -- giving love is taking a chance. Although these gouges are painful, they stay open, reminding me of the love I have for these people too, and I hope someday they may return and fill the space I have waiting. So now do you see what true beauty is?"

The young man stood silently with tears running down his cheeks. He walked up to the old man, reached into his perfect young and beautiful heart, and ripped a piece out. He offered it to the old man with trembling hands.

The old man took his offering, placed it in his heart and then took a piece from his old scarred heart and placed it in the wound in the young man's heart. It fit, but not perfectly, as there were some jagged edges.

The young man looked at his heart, not perfect anymore but more beautiful than ever, since love from the old man's heart flowed into his. They embraced and walked away side by side.

~Author Unknown~

If you love someone

The Power of Love

Who comes first in your mind....?

There was this guy who loved two gals at the same time but he didn't know which one he loved more.
Someone taught him.

Ask yourself this question and answer it honestly :
"When you are happy, which gal would you want to share your happiness with?"
The one you think of is someone you love.

Ask yourself another question and answer it honestly :
"When you are sad, which gal you want to share your burden with?"
The one you think of is also someone you love.

If you think of the same gal when you are happy & sad, that's the most perfect.
But if you don't think of the same gal, I would advise you to chose the one you are willing
to share your sadness with.

In life, there are more sorrows than happiness.
There are too many people that u meet that u can share your happiness with, not necessary your lover.

If you live your life happily, you can also enjoy it alone.
In sadness, however, there are not many people willing to share your burden with you.

If you are willing to tell someone your happiness, I am sure that person has got to be someone close & an understanding person to you. But it shouldn't stop there.

If that person only thinks of you when she is happy, but looks for someone else when she is sad,
this lover is too unstable, she doesn't treat you as someone she can spend the rest of her life with.

Of course, I will be very happy if I am the first person to share her happiness.
But, if she is sad, I will be too willing to stay by her side & ease her pain.
Only then, will I believe that I hold a very important position in her heart.

If you are sad, who comes to your mind first?

shared by : Alex Wee

Handling Love

If you find yourself in love with someone who does not love you, be gentle with yourself. There is nothing wrong with you. Love just didn't choose to rest in the other person's heart.

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If you find someone else in love with you and you don't love her/him, feel honored that love came and called at your door, but gently refuse the gift you cannot return. Do not take advantage, do not cause pain.

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How you deal with love is how you deal with yourself, and all our hearts feel the same pains and joys, even if our lives and ways are different.

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If you fall in love with another, and she falls in love with you, and then love chooses to leave, do not try to reclaim it or to assess blame, Let it go. There is a reason and there is a meaning. You will know in time.

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Remember that you don't choose love. Love chooses you. All you can really do is accept it for all its mystery when it comes into your life.

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Feel the way it fills you to overflowing, then reach out and give it away. Give it back to the person who brought it alive in you. Give it to others who deem it poor in spirit. Give it to the world around you in anyway you can.

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This is where many lovers go wrong. Having been so long without love, they understand love only as a need. They see their hearts as empty places that will be filled by love, and they begin to look at love as something that flows to them rather than from them.

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The first blush of new love is filled to overflowing, but as their love cools, they revert to seeing their love as need. They cease to be someone who generates love and instead become someone who seeks love. They forget that the secret of love is that it is a gift, and that it can be made to grow only by giving it away.

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Remember this, and keep it to your heart. Love has its own time, its own seasons, and its own reason for coming and going. You cannot bribe it or coerce it, or reason it into saying. You can only embrace it when it arrives and give it away when it comes to you.

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But if it chooses to leave from your heart or from the heart of your lover, there is nothing you can do and there is nothing you should do.

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Love always has been and always will be a mystery. Be glad that it came to live for a moment in your life. Don't deny love just only you don't want to be hurt...

IF YOU KEEP YOUR HEART OPEN, IT WILL COME AGAIN

Wooden Bowl

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and four-year old grandson. The old man's hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together at the table. But the elderly grandfather's shaky hands and failing sight made eating difficult.

The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. "We must do something about Grandfather," said the son. I've had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner.

There, Grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner. Since Grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. When the family glanced in Grandfather's direction, sometimes he had a tear in his eye as he sat alone.

Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence. One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, "What are you making?" Just as sweetly, the boy responded, "Oh, I am making a little wooden bowl for you and Mummy to eat your food in when I grow up." The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words struck the parents so that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks.

Though no word was spoken both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took Grandfather's hand and gently led him back to the family table. For the remaining days he ate every meal with the family.

And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled.

I've learned that, regardless of your relationship with your parents,

you'll miss them when they're gone from your life.

I've learned that making a "living" is not the same thing as making a "life."

I've learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance.

I've learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone.

People love that human touch; holding hands, a warm hug,

or just a friendly pat on the back.

Shared by : Shoan D'souza

Commitment

This is so true...hope you'll find it meaningful...the most important, most critical component in successful loving is commitment. Not love.

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It's easy to love without commitment. People do it all the time. Easy to love, to give of oneself for a while. But commitment implies bonding in such a way that one promises to keep the fires of love burning indefinitely.
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It also means shutting one's heart to the possibility of loving another who might even be more attractive, even more lovable. Not easy. This is why solid commitments are not at all as common as we are led to believe.
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In fact, more often than not, I think that the commitment two lovers make are not equal. What I mean is that the commitment of one might be a whole lot more or a whole lot less than the partner's.
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We see it all the time. One loves more than the other and is more committed than the other. It is false to believe that two lovers love each other to the same degree.
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We have often seen lopsided love relationships where one partner is giving so much more to the relationship than the other.
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But writers and poets seem to always indicate that love isn't just a two-way street, but an equal two-way street. That hardly ever happens. It is impossible to determine exactly how much a man loves a woman or how much a woman cares for a man.
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Love cannot be measured and that can be a huge problem. You can love someone and tell him "I love you" and you're telling the truth. But how much do you love him? Enough to let him court you? Enough to marry him? Enough to die for him?
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The greatest test of true love is commitment. And the greatest indicator of deep love is deep commitment. There can be no doubting this.
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I have heard people say all the right words, make all the right moves and pledge undying love, only to walk away weeks or months later.
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Were they in love? Sure they were. But not enough to allow them to hold strong in their love. Not enough to keep a commitment regardless of the pain.
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A lover gets this sinking feeling when there is a sense that one is more committed than the other. When one is giving a lot more than one is receiving. When one's love is a lot more solid than the creaky love of the partner.
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When a couple believe strongly that their commitment to each other is rock solid, there is a deep sense of security, a feeling that it's OK to give all because the gift of yourself is safe in the hands of the beloved.
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If, however, there is doubt or, even worse, the conviction that one is engaged in one-way giving, in a one-way commitment that is lopsided, then there is a tendency to pull back and not give as much. And when that happens, love begins to fade.
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In the countless counseling sessions I have had with troubled couples over the years, there has always been the problem of a failing commitment on the part of at least one of the partners. Unless there is the raising of the level of commitment, the relationship is doomed. It's finished. Sooner or later the stresses will take their toll and the relationship will begin to fall apart.
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On the other hand, look carefully at lovers who are still very much in love after 20, 25 years. Their commitment to each other cannot be shaken. Neither can their love.

When You Divorce Me, Carry Me Out in Your Arms

This is quite long. But definitely a beautiful story to read. Take a moment to Read this, especially for u married couples. Marriage is a new beginning to your Life.

On my wedding day, I carried my wife in my arms. The bridal car stopped in front of our one-room flat. My buddies insisted that I carry her out of the car in my arms. So I carried her into our home. She was then plump and shy. I was a strong and happy bridegroom.

This was the scene ten years ago.

The following days were as simple as a cup of pure water: we had a kid; I went into business and tried to make more money. When the assets were steadily increasing, the affection between us seemed to ebb. She was a civil servant. Every morning we left home together and got home almost at the same time. Our kid was studying in a boarding school.

Our marriage life seemed to be enviably happy. But the calm life was more likely to be affected by unpredictable changes. Dew came into my life.

It was a sunny day. I stood on a spacious balcony. Dew hugged me from behind. My heart once again was immersed in her stream of love. This was the apartment I bought for her.

Dew said, you are the kind of man who best draws girls' eyeballs. Her words suddenly reminded me of my wife. When we were just married, my wife said, Men like you, once successful, will be very attractive to girls.

Thinking of this, I became somewhat hesitant. I knew I had betrayed my wife. But I couldn't help doing so.

I moved Dew's hands aside and said you go to select some furniture, O.K.? I've got something to do in the company. Obviously she was unhappy, because I had promised to do it together with her. At the moment, the idea of divorce became clearer in my mind although it used to be something impossible to me.

However, I found it rather difficult to tell my wife about it. No matter how mildly I mentioned it to her, she would be deeply hurt.

Honestly, she was a good wife. Every evening she was busy preparing dinner. I was sitting in front of the TV. The dinner was ready soon. Then we watched TV together. Or, I was lounging before the computer, visualizing Dew's body. This was the means of my entertainment.
One day I said to her in a slightly joking way, suppose we divorce, what will you do? She stared at me for a few seconds without a word. Apparently she believed that divorce was something too far away from her. I couldn't imagine how she would react once she got to know I was serious.

When my wife went to my office, Dew had just stepped out. Almost all the staff looked at my wife with a sympathetic eye and tried to hide something while talking to her. She seemed to have got some hint. She gently smiled at my subordinates. But I read some hurt in her eyes.

Once again, Dew said to me, He Ning, divorce her, O.K.? Then we live together. I nodded. I knew I could not hesitate any more. When my wife served the last dish, I held her hand. I've got something to tell you, I said. She sat down and ate quietly. Again I observed the hurt in her eyes. Suddenly I didn't know how to open my mouth. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the serious topic calmly.

She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I'm serious. I avoided her question. This so-called answer made her angry. She threw away the chopsticks and shouted at me, you are not a man!

That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer, because my heart had gone to Dew.

With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, our car, and 30% stake of my company. She glanced at it and then tore it into pieces. I felt a pain in my heart. The woman who had been living ten years with me would become a stranger one day. But I could not take back what I had said.

Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer.

Late that night, I came back home after entertaining my clients. I saw her writing something at the table. I fall asleep fast. When I woke up, I found she was still there. I turned over and was asleep again.

She brought up her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but I was supposed to give her one month s time before divorce, and in the month's time we must live as normal a life as possible. Her reason was simple: our son would finish his summer vacation a month later and she didn't want him to see our marriage was broken.

She passed me the agreement she drafted, and then asked me, He Ning, do you still remember how I entered our bridal room on the wedding day? This question suddenly brought back all those wonderful memories to me. I nodded and said, I remember. You carried me in your arms, she continued, so, I have a requirement, that is, you carry me out in your arms on the day when we divorce. From now to the end of this month, you must carry me out from the bedroom to the door every morning.

I accepted with a smile. I knew she missed those sweet days and wished to end her marriage romantically.

I told Dew about my wife s divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she does, she has to face the result of divorce, she said scornfully. Her words more or less made me feel uncomfortable.

My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. We even treated each other as a stranger. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. Our son clapped behind us, daddy is holding mummy in his arms. His words brought me a sense of pain.

From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked
over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, Let us start from today, don't tell our son. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for a bus, I drove to the office.

On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest. We were so close that I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this intimate woman carefully for a long time. I found she was not young any more. There were some fine wrinkles on her face.

On the third day, she whispered to me, the outside garden is being demolished. Be careful when you pass there.

On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I seemed to feel that we were still an intimate couple and I was holding my sweetheart in my arms. The visualization of Dew became vague.

On the fifth and sixth day, she kept reminding me something, such as, where she put the ironed shirts, I should be careful while cooking, etc. I nodded. The sense of intimacy was even stronger. I didn't tell Dew about this.

I felt it was easier to carry her. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger. I said to her, It seems not difficult to carry you now. She was picking her dresses. I was waiting to carry her out. She tried quite a few but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I smiled. But I suddenly realized that it was because she was thinner that I could carry her more easily, not because I was stronger. I knew she had buried all the bitterness in her heart. Again, I felt a sense of pain. Subconsciously I reached out a hand to touch her head.

Our son came in at the moment. Dad, it's time to carry mum out. He said. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had been an essential part of his life. She gestured our son to come closer and hugged him tightly. I turned my face because I was afraid I would change my mind at the last minute. I held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly, as if we came back to our wedding day. But her much lighter weight made me sad.

On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. She said, actually I hope you will hold me in your arms until we are old.

I held her tightly and said, both you and I didn't notice that our life lacked intimacy.

I jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my decision. I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door. I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I won't divorce. I'm serious.

She looked at me, astonished. The she touched my forehead. You got no fever. She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I can only say sorry to you, I won't divorce. My marriage life was boring probably because she and I didn't value the details of life, not because we didn't love each other any more. Now I understand that since I carried her into the home, she gave birth to our child, I am supposed to hold her until I am old. So I have to say sorry to you.

Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove to the office.

When I passed the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet for my wife which was her favorite. The salesgirl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote, I'll carry you out every morning until we are old

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Shared by : Shoan D'souza

Why the wedding ring is put on the fourth finger ?

A wedding ring or wedding band consists of a precious metal ring, usually worn on the base of the left ring finger – the fourth finger (counting from the thumb) of the left hand. In some parts of the world, it is worn on the right ring finger.

You maybe wonder about the reason why the wedding is put on the fourth finger.

Put both palm of your hands to face each other and let each finger from right and left hand meet each other, after that bend both of your third fingers to the inside (see the image)

Now...the game is starting .. Do the next step for the remaining 4 fingers (thumb, index finger, ring finger and last finger). Try to separate or making gap between each finger and do this one by one.. starting from first finger to last finger, you will find something amazing... the only finger that can't be separated from each other is the fourth finger or ring finger

Our fingers represent our family
Thumb represent parents

Second finger represent brothers & sisters

Centre finger represent own self

Fourth finger represent your partner

Last finger represent your children

Fourth finger is chosen as the finger for the wedding ring with the same expectation so both of couple will not be separated as real love that will stick together ever and forever.

Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. (Genesis 2:24)

shared by : Vincent W

A Silly Love Story

A young man was walking through his village one morning on his way to see his fiancée. In his hand he held his father's yardstick and a moneybag holding three silver dollars. As he strolled into town, the local printer spied him and the yardstick. Inquisitively he asked, "My dear boy, where are you going with that stick in your hand?"

"It's not a stick," the young man replied, chuckling and wondering if the printer needed an eye examination. "Well, actually it is a stick of sorts … a yardstick to be exact," he said with a wide smile. "I'm going to measure the love that my fiancée has for me to see if I should go through with this marriage."

"A little nervous, eh?" the printer asked with a wink.

The young man looked down at the yardstick and twisted his face as he pondered the question. Though he was somewhat embarrassed to admit it, after a moment of thought he finally responded, "I guess so."

The printer laughed. "Everyone feels that way to a certain degree, my lad. But you can't measure love with a yard stick."

"You can't?" the young man exclaimed.

"No, no, no," the printer answered in the wisest of tones. "You must use a water table to measure a woman's love."

The young man had never heard of such a thing. But the printer was older and apparently wiser than he, so he asked, "Where can I find a water table?"

The printer had broken his yardstick the day before and had been too lazy to go to the mercantile to purchase a new one. He saw this as a way to avoid the trip and make a little money from the naïve youth. "I happen to have one that I can sell to you for one dollar and that ruler."

"Yardstick," the young man corrected.

"Whatever," the printer replied. "Are you interested?"

Without thinking, the young man pulled out his moneybag, gave the man one of his silver dollars and then handed over the yardstick. The printer flipped the coin in the air, caught it in his hand, and put it into the pocket of his apron. With a skip he entered the print shop and in only a moment emerged with a large glass jar, complete with markings on the side.

The youth was so mesmerized with the device that he didn't even ask the printer how to use it. He turned and joyfully ambled along Main Street staring at the large jar in his hands, joyful that he had found the true way to measure love. Snickering, the printer patted his apron pocket and sauntered back into his shop.

It was a wonderful spring morning and many people were out on the street, including old widow Parker, the town's best jam preserver. The woman was sweeping her front porch as the gentleman walked past. "Young man, young man," she called, tossing her straw broom aside and hurrying down the steps toward the street. "What is in that jar you're carrying there in your paws?"

"Oh, it's a water table," the man replied after adjusting his eyes to see who had summoned him. "I'm on my way to measure the love of my fiancée."

The old woman suddenly became very hospitable, sensing the smell of boondoggle in the air. "Well, don't you know that the U.S. commission on weights and measurements just revised the standards on regulation love measurement contraptions?"

"Noooo," the young man said in surprise.
"Yessss," the old woman said in response, her eyes wide with intrigue.
"You mean this won't…"

"Won't do you a darn bit of good in this country. Why, you couldn't measure a tick's wing on the back of a hound dog with that thing," the elderly woman declared, her hands just itching to pour boiled peaches into the jar.

The man's heart dropped and he slumped down on the old woman's front steps. "The printer must not have received the news," he said dejectedly. "What can I do?"

"There, there," old widow Parker said, patting the young man on the shoulder. "I can help you out…" her face brightened with a mischievous smile, "…if you have the price."

The man looked up with anticipation. "Anything! Name it."

And so, in exchange for a silver dollar and the glass jar the woman gave him an old bathroom scale. "Why, this is all dented," he exclaimed.

"It's last year's model," the woman replied as the screen door slammed behind her. "But it still works fine." With that she closed the large oak front door and pulled down the shade.

Undaunted, the man turned and walked down the stairs and back onto the street, happy that he would soon see his sweetheart and measure her love according to the United States government.

By now the sun was high in the sky and the town was full of activity. But the young man barely noticed the others on Main Street as he carefully examined the modern machine in his hands. As he strolled through town he passed Al's Antique Shop. Now Al, the proprietor of Al's Antique Shop, was a big, burly man, standing about 6 foot, 2 inches, and weighing somewhere in the vicinity of 275 pounds.

The barrel-chested man chewed a day-old cigar as he peered out the window onto the street. Suddenly he spied the young man and the dented bathroom scale. With a crash the front door of his establishment burst open and Al flew out onto the street.

"Where in tarnation is you headed with that thar bathroom scale, my friend?" Al asked with a roar.

The crash of the door startled the young man and he almost dropped the precious measuring device. "I'm on my way to my fiancée's to determine her love for me," he replied, a little upset at being stopped yet again.

"Why, how are you gonna measure a woman's love with that thing?" Al asked between coughs and sputters.

"Well, old widow…"

The shrewd salesman cut in before the youth could utter a full sentence. Putting his big arm around the shoulder of the impressionable young man, he led him to the array of various items on display in front of the shop. "Let me show you the only magical, undeniable way of measuring a lassie's affection." The man wheezed as he bent over and picked up a single piece of clear glass cut the day before while replacing a broken window. "Here, my friend, is the newest, finest, most confidential way of finding the heart of a woman." Spying the confused look on the young man's face, the salesman elaborated, "It has even been tested by the United States Cavalry."

This caught the young man's attention. "The Cavalry, you say?" he asked putting the scale down and gingerly taking the glass from the salesman.

The corners of the antique dealer's smile slowly edged upward. "I can give it to you for the low, low price of one dollar and that hideous bathroom scale."

The young man was dumbfounded by the fantasy he saw before him. He dug deep into his moneybag and pulled out his final silver dollar. Grabbing the coin and the scale the businessman walked casually back into his shop, chewing now and then on his cigar.

"Oh sir," the young man poked his head into the antique store. "How does it work?"

"You just hold it up to the woman standing ten yards away," the salesman sputtered. "If you can see her through the glass, she loves you."

The young man tilted his head like a Golden Retriever looking at an unopened door, pondering the wonder of this device. After a moment he shrugged his shoulders and returned to the street.

As he arrived at the other end of town he turned off Main Street and onto the wooded path that led to his girlfriend's home. In the excitement of the moment, he began running up the narrow lane toward the house. But his foot got caught on the root of a tree and he tumbled to the ground, dropping the measuring glass and shattering it into tiny pieces.

"Undoubtedly this ruined the magical effect," he said aloud as he picked himself up from the ground and wiped the dirt from his jacket and pant legs. As he stood, he spied some daisies growing on the side of the path. "At least I can give her these," he pondered, "seeing that I spent all the money that I had intended to use for a present." He gently picked the flowers, making a bouquet with some other wildflowers and baby's breath that he found along the way.

As he neared the house, his fiancée saw him from her front porch and ran down the path to meet him. "I missed you so much," she cried as she threw her arms around him in an embrace. Sheepishly he held out the bouquet, which was now very beautiful with a large assortment of flowers. "Oh, they're gorgeous!" she exclaimed. Taking them in her hands she breathed in the lovely fragrance. "I love you!" she said with a smile, as she leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek.

"Come on, let's go put them in some water!"

She took hold of his hand and the young couple raced up the path and back toward the house. As he followed his fiancée down the path and up the stairs into the house, suddenly the young man realized what he had known deep down all along.

You don't need a yardstick, or a water table, or a scale, or a magical glass to measure someone's love. If a person loves you, you'll know it in your heart!You don't need a yardstick, or a water table, or a scale, or a magical glass to measure someone's love. If a person loves you, you'll know it in your heart!

Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails… (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a NASB).Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails… (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a NASB).

by Craig von Buseck CBN Ministries Director

The Cab Ride

a great and touching story, I trust you will enjoy it as much as I did

regards,
Linda

I THINK THIS HAS BEEN AROUND A FEW TIMES--BUT----IT'S WORTH A REPEAT!!!!

Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living. When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a single light in a ground floor window. Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or twice, wait a minute, and then drive away. But I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis as their only means of transportation. Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door. This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned to myself.

So I walked to the door and knocked. "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor. After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 80's stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets. There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

"Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman. She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb. She kept thanking me for my kindness. "It's nothing", I told her. "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother treated".

"Oh, you're such a good boy", she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, and then asked, "Could you drive through downtown?"

"It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

"Oh, I don't mind," she said. "I'm in no hurry. I'm on my way to a hospice".

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. "I don't have any family left," she continued. "The doctor says I don't have very long."

I quietly reached over and shut off the meter. "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator. We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds. She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl. Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, "I'm tired. Let's go now".

We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico. Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move. They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

"Nothing," I said.

"You have to make a living," she answered.

"There are other passengers," I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug. She held onto me tightly. "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said. "Thank you."

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light. She smiled at me, a door shut. It was the sound of the closing of a life.

I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk. What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was impatient to end his shift. What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more important in my life. We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments. But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

Thank you, my friend...Life may not be the party we hoped for, but while we are here we might as well dance.

HAVE A BLESSED DAY!!! :-)

Shared by : Sarah Sanders

Are you a reason, a season or a lifetime?

Pay attention to what you read. People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime. When you figure out which one it is, you will know what to do for each person.

When someone is in your life for a REASON. . .

It is usually to meet a need you have expressed.

They have come to assist you through a difficulty,

to provide you with guidance and support,

to aid you physically, emotionally, or spiritually.

They may seem like a godsend, and they are!

They are there for the reason you need them to be.

Then, without any wrongdoing on your part,

or at an inconvenient time,

this person will say or do something

to bring the relationship to an end.

Sometimes they die.

Sometimes they walk away.

Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.

What we must realize is that our need has been met,

our desire fulfilled, their work is done.

The prayer you sent up has been answered.

And now it is time to move on.

Then people come into your life for a SEASON.

Because your turn has come to share, grow, or learn.

They bring you an experience of peace, or make you laugh.

They may teach you something you have never done.

They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.

Believe it! It is real!

But, only for a season.

LIFETIME relationships ...

Teach you lifetime lessons

and things you must build upon

in order to have a solid emotional foundation.

Your job is to accept the lesson,

love the person,

and put what you have learned

to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.

It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Work like you don't need the money.

Love like you've never been hurt.

And dance like no one is watching.

Thanks for being a part of my life

~Author Unknown~

Falling In Love Twice

Can you fall in love twice? "Absolutely!" Kim and Krickett Carpenter would tell you. Krickett would say, "Yes! I did. It happened to me." Kim never stopped loving his beautiful sweetheart who had been his wife for only two months when their world fell apart. In a recent published book entitled "The Vow," they tell their story.

On the night of November 24, 1993, Kim and Krickett were on their way to visit Krickett's parents when they were involved in a terrible automobile accident that almost killed them both. Krickett, however, was in a coma for two weeks, and when she awoke, she had no short-term memory. When she was able to talk to Kim, who had recovered more quickly, she looked at him and said, "I don't know you. I don't want you; go back to where you came from," and she kept talking about Todd, her boyfriend of some four years before.

She knew her parents and remembered everything clearly that had happened years ago; but she could not recognize her husband. For Kim, it was like being married to a living dead. Statistics say that 80% to 90% of those who sustain brain damage end up divorcing their spouse. Why? Their personalities are altered and they are like strangers, sometimes even hostile ones at that.

Why didn't he give up on her? Kim answered, "When you make a vow before the Lord, you need to be a person of your word." Both Kim and Krickett were committed Christians and had taken their marriage vows seriously when they stood at a marriage altar and pledged their love to each other "till death do us part."

Kim stood by her, helped her in her rehabilitation, brought flowers for her, and the storybook ending to this near fatal tragedy is that eventually Kim and Krickett (wearing the same wedding dress that she had worn when she first took her vows) had another ceremony -- just like the first one -- reaffirming their love and commitment to each other. Love was born the second time in her heart for this man.

Can you learn to love the second time? When someone you love trampled on his or her vows and in a moment of thoughtless passion, violated the commitment he or she made, can love be reborn?

I'm thinking of a couple who sat with me only a few days ago. The husband began by saying, "There's nothing you can do to help us. We've been to many counselors and I don't think there is any hope for our marriage." I turned to them and said, "I'm sorry to hear that God has died, and with His death, any hope of His doing anything in your lives also expired!"

Unbelieving they looked at me as if I was crazy. "No," I said, as long as God and both of you are alive, there is hope that your love for each other can be rekindled."

Kim courted his wife just as he did the first time. They got to know each other and they talked about the Lord and what He had meant to each of them. Eventually, she learned to trust him, to love him, and to recommit herself to him.

Love is more than an emotion; it is a deep meaningful commitment and rediscovering that had made Kim and Krickett Carpenter's marriage a two-fold blessing which has endured the fire.

C O M M I T M E N T

This is so true...hope you'll find it meaningful...the most important, most critical component in successful loving is commitment. Not love.

shared by: BN

Letting Go

There was once a lonely girl who longed desperately for love. One day while she was walking in the woods she found two starving song birds. She took them home and put them in a small glided cage. She nurtured them with love and the birds grew strong. Every morning they greeted her with a marvellous song. The girl felt great love for the birds. She wanted their singing to last forever.

One day the girl left the door to the cage open. The larger and stronger of the two birds flew from the cage. The girl watched anxiously as he circled high above her. She was so frightened that he would fly away and she would never see him again that as he flew close, she grasped at him wildly. She caught him in her fist. She clutched him tightly within her hand. Her heart gladened at her sucess in capturing him. Suddenly she felt the bird go limp. She opened her hand stared in horror at the dead bird. Her desperate clutching love had killed him.

She noticed the other bird teteering on the edge of the cage. She could feel his great need for freedom. His need to soar into the clear, blue sky. She lifted him from the cage and tossed him softly into the air. The bird circled once, twice, three times. The girl watched delighted at the bird's enjoyment. Her heart was no longer concerned with her loss. She wanted the bird to be happy. Suddenly the bird flew closer and landed softly on her shoulder. It sang the sweetest melody, she had ever heard.

The fastest way to lose love is to hold on too tight,
the best way to keep love is to give it -- WINGS!

The Necklace

The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls was almost five. Waiting with her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box. Oh mommy please, Mommy. Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?" Quickly the mother checked the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes of her little girl's upturned face. "A dollar ninety-five. That's almost $2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in! no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself. Your birthday's only a week away and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma."

As soon as Jenny got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbor and asked Mrs. McJames if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. On her birthday, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money to buy the necklace.

Jenny loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday school, kindergarten, even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green.

Jenny had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop whatever he was doing and come! upstairs to read her a story.

One night as he finished the story, he asked Jenny, "Do you love me?"

"Oh yes, daddy. You know that I love you."
"Then give me your pearls."
"Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the white horse from my collection, the one with the pink tail. Remember, daddy? The one you gave me. She's my very favorite."
"That's okay, Honey, daddy loves you. Good night." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss.

About a week later, after the story time, Jenny's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?"
"Daddy, you know I love you."
"Then give me your pearls."
"Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one I got for my birthday. She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that matches her sleeper."
"That's okay. Sleep well. God bless you, little one. Daddy! loves you."
And as always, he brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss.

A few nights later when her daddy came in, Jenny was sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian style. As he came close, he noticed her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek.
"What is it, Jenny? What's the matter?"
Jenny didn't say anything but lifted her little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here, daddy, this is for you."

With tears gathering in his own eyes, Jenny's daddy reached out with one hand to take the dime store necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave them to Jenny.

He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to give up the dime-store stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure. So it is, with our Heavenly Father. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures.

Isn't God good? Are you holding onto things that God wants you to let go of? Are you holding on to harmful or unnecessary partners, relationships, habits and activities that you have come so attached to that it seems impossible to let go? Sometimes it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing .

God will never take away something without giving you something better in its place.

Shared by: Jacqueline Dugas, Oct 20, 2006

Strongest Dad in the World

Dear friend,

Please make sure you don't miss this one, a story of tremendous love from a father to his son, this sports illustrated story will tear you up. If the story doesn't get you, the video at the end will seal the deal. It's truly amazing to see what a love can do, the kind of love that most of us can only imagine..

God bless you all

Strongest Dad in the World

[ From Rick Reilly, of Sports Illustrated ]

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, what I do for my kids is inconsequential.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchairbut also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day.

Dick has also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester Mass, 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. "He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;'' Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an institution.''

But the Hoyts weren't buying it. They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts university and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way,'' Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain.''

"Tell him a joke,'' Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate.

First words? "Go Bruins!'' And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that.''

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker'' who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. "Then it was me who was handicapped,'' Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks.''

That day changed Rick's life. "Dad,'' he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!'' And that sentence changed Dick's life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

"No way,'' Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheel chair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?'' How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way,'' he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling'' he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

"No question about it,'' Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century.''

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape ,'' one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago.''

So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland Mass, always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

"The thing I'd most like,'' Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.''

To read more visit their homepage at http://www.teamhoyt.com/index.html