tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77584063007577790572024-02-20T10:30:52.218-05:00TODAY COUNTS - Paul Valo BlogThe world through Paul Valo's eyes.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-2147735597457144082015-04-03T12:07:00.000-04:002015-04-03T12:09:01.938-04:00FOLLOWING<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On Good Friday we pause to reflect on the price of suffering and death that Jesus Christ endured to pay for our sins. In Luke 9:23 Jesus said to his disciples a statement that directly impacts anyone who calls themselves a "follower" of Christ. "<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">Then he said to them all: "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me" (Luke 9:23). </span></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;">To this day, courageous people </span><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">around the world continue take up their cross--to suffer and sometimes even die for their faith in Jesus Christ. Today, let us keep in prayer the families of the 140 Christian college students who were killed for their faith this week in Kenya, as well as all those around the world who are suffering for their faith. We should observe that one of the remarkable things about the Christian faith is that we are not called to kill but rather lay down our lives for following Christ.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-22038579085034677282012-06-20T10:13:00.002-04:002012-06-20T11:37:18.097-04:00TODAY COUNTS<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1977 I was spending a perfect summer day at a friend’s
house in my native Western Pennsylvania.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Emancipated from the responsibilities of high school, my attention had
turned to the next adventure of my life, the beginning of college.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My friend’s mother had prepared a delicious meal
that I’m sure included potatoes, cabbage and lots of butter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While eating that day I remember chattering with
my friend that I couldn’t wait for the summer to pass and for my freshman year
of college to begin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On that hot and muggy day my friend’s mother interrupted our
conversation with an observation that stopped me in my tracks and forever changed
the way I view my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said...“Last
year you said you couldn’t wait to be sixteen—couldn’t wait to get your
driver’s license. And then you couldn’t wait for your high school
graduation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now you can’t seem to wait
for summer to be gone so you can go to college.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She concluded her short but profound statement
with “Quit wishing your life away.”</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few years have passed since that conversation but those
words have influenced every day since then. I am not waiting for my situation to change in order to be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because happiness is a choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You are as happy as you choose to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, you are as happy as you choose to be right now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s not based on circumstance or other
people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s based on your choosing the
right attitude for today about today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Many of us are living temporary lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We eat temporary food on disposable plates.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We live in temporary housing on a six month
lease. We can’t even commit to furniture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The symbol of our culture should be the futon…inexpensive and easily
moved.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our friends ask us to commit to an
event for Friday night and we won’t because there may be something better, like
the proverbial blue light special event that just might come along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We fall into the “when and then” trap….when I graduate, then
I’ll be happy and really start living my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When I get married and have kids, then I’ll be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When my kids leave home, then I’ll be
happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I get a certain job, then
I’ll be happy, When my income reaches a certain level, then I’ll be happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of those may be worthwhile goals but if we’re
not careful, we’ll spend our lives living in limbo, waiting to live, waiting to
laugh, waiting to love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stop waiting for tomorrow. Stop living in limbo. Consume and
enjoy every moment of this day like a plate of stuffed cabbage and mashed
potatoes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today counts.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-63413275496542200522012-04-26T07:37:00.001-04:002012-04-26T07:37:21.784-04:00<b>You can't do this from the couch. Get up...Today Counts!</b>
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/WxfZkMm3wcg?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-19155623428738347182011-08-26T09:20:00.000-04:002011-08-26T09:20:09.087-04:00Grown-up School Supplies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkAd5rhqwCgtNeaXrayYafjCmYdgXUmPZz83Jj4aO46vOE-yhXy_-7XpDFUdImU0e54MIczHBJ-6rQ7kZ-FpvtWAd-bFbTtErQz6ciLal7JbwgY_G8Z6nekqZzUCKQywyzDDnWj9qhoI/s1600/school_supplies1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right; float:right; margin-left:1em; margin-bottom:1em"><img border="0" height="199" width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkAd5rhqwCgtNeaXrayYafjCmYdgXUmPZz83Jj4aO46vOE-yhXy_-7XpDFUdImU0e54MIczHBJ-6rQ7kZ-FpvtWAd-bFbTtErQz6ciLal7JbwgY_G8Z6nekqZzUCKQywyzDDnWj9qhoI/s200/school_supplies1.jpg" /></a></div><br />
This time of year you cannot escape the flurry of activity taking place at the local discount stores. Where there was once red, white and blue paper plates and plastic cutlery, the sale aisle is filled with glue, notebooks, markers, and packs of number two pencils with the little rubber erasers on the ends. <br />
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All those packs of paper and protractors remind me of back-to-school when I was a boy. I would have brightly colored folders, books with crisp pages and brand new, spotless clothes. Pencils, with their pristine erasers, having just been sharpened, stood ready to tackle anything the teachers could dish out. With summer passing into memory, and a new school year looming ahead, there was a brief moment of time each fall that held a golden opportunity, a chance to start over. I could make new friends, impress the teachers with my hard work, be a totally different kid if I wanted. Oh, the possibilities… Anything I could anticipate now, as an adult, pales in comparison to the breathless expectancy of those few days before school started. <br />
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I remember trying so hard to keep all the new stuff neat and clean at the beginning of the year. This lasted about a week. Mistakes were made, pages torn, clothes got dirty. My fresh start settled into a comfortable routine filled with the realities of everyday life. School became an exercise in wrestling with words and problems. And a lot of erasing.<br />
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You know, the guy who invented the eraser had the human race pretty much figured out.<br />
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A little back-story: Prior to the invention of the rubber eraser, people used bread to remove written mistakes. Bread. Try it sometime and you'll realize that it doesn't work very well. So, tired of huge, crumb-filled smudges on his papers, an enterprising fellow decided to put a rubber eraser on the end of a wooden pencil. <br />
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He knew that people make mistakes. Mistakes are a part of what makes us human. Everyone, at some time or another circles b and then realizes it should be c, or puts the wrong word in 23 Across, or writes a story with the cart before the horse. But the eraser is proof that there is an opportunity to change what is not correct, to take an idea and improve on it, to erase what has been written and start over. <br />
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What defines us as people isn't that we make mistakes, but how we deal with them. Having an eraser is a good thing. Using it is even better. Have the courage to rewrite anything that isn’t your best; a relationship that needs fixing, a way of thinking that has not yielded anything positive, you know where the mistakes are. Go at them with the determination of a fifth grader who wants a good grade. Make corrections; Today Counts!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-45186529968923974592011-05-20T16:43:00.000-04:002011-05-20T16:43:05.795-04:00Should I prepare or not?I'm wondering if I should finish studying for this week's sermon. After all, Harold Camping predicted that the Lord will return on Saturday, May 21, 2011 around 6pm. Wow--should I study or not? <br />
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Regardless, I've had several people who have approached me with some great anxiety from this prophecy about the impending "end of the world." First of all, this isn't the first time he's predicted it. He did this previously predicting that judgment day would occur September 6, 1994. Furthermore, worrying won't change it--will it? Regardless, the bible doesn't indicate that the "world will end" for quite some time. (And that will only happen because God makes a new heaven and earth.) As far as his prediction of the return of Jesus for May 21, 2011, the bible says that no one knows the day or hour that of the second coming--not even Jesus. ("No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father." Matthew 24:36) So Harold Camping knows something that even Jesus doesn't know. Wow, now that's what I call a hookup for inside information! But then let's not actually involve the bible in Mr. Camping's end time prophecy.<br />
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Consider this, the bible warns that in the last days we should be careful because of the many false prophets. In fact, the bible spends just about as much time talking about false prophets as it does prophets in the last day. Which should give you an idea that most of what you hear is a bunch of bunk. With that in mind, then these false prophets are actually more a sign themselves that Jesus is returning soon than are their prophecies. <br />
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Lastly, when people get misdirected on tangents like this, all it does is serve to discredit the rest of us who are trying to draw attention to Jesus. Much in the same way all of the silliness about the supposed confession that the president of Proctor and Gamble made on the Phil Donahue show a few years back. Never happened. No appearance on the show, no confession on the show, and sadly, no more clean clothes or toothpaste for many of these misguided followers. <br />
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Seriously people--focus. There is a conspiracy out there! It's the conspiracy that the devil uses to divert our attention away from the real gospel to these tangents that only serve to distract and ultimately discredit us. If you want to see some possible signs concerning the end times, pay attention to the speech that President Obama made concerning Israel this week. Maybe he's cashing in the collateral that he collected from the Osama Bin Laden killing. Maybe he thinks we're giddy with laughter to the point that our eyes are closed.<br />
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Lastly, if you are really rattled with anxiety about the Lord's return I have a solution for you, surrender your life to Jesus and you won't have to worry if it does happen. <br />
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One more thing, if Lord does indeed return tomorrow, will someone please shut the lights off in the cafe after the third service on Sunday?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-74458215033906440052011-02-18T09:33:00.001-05:002011-09-22T08:58:41.261-04:00Your Time Will ComeSpring training for baseball is upon us and the speculation on who will be this year's successes begins. You’ve probably heard the old saying, “they were just in the right place at the right time.” While on the surface it may appear that someone’s success was completely coincidental, I am persuaded that success is never an accident. In fact, it’s my observation is that it is usually a combination of preparation and timing.<br />
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Satchel Paige threw his first major league pitch at the age of 42. Actually, he was good enough to play in the majors at the age of 18, but he couldn't--Satchel Paige was black. However, seven years after Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier in baseball, Paige, an undisputed superstar everywhere but in the major leagues, finally got his chance.<br />
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Cleveland Indians owner Bill Veeck was criticized for adding such an old man to his roster--some sportswriters and critics called it a publicity stunt. Others said Paige was finally getting the break he had deserved for years--though most doubted his ability to compete effectively at his age. Paige silenced the critics when he won his first three games as a pro…shutting out Chicago twice in the process.<br />
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All along he knew he was good enough to pitch in the major leagues, and when he finally got his chance, he proved it. He went on to win 28 games during his pro career, and even made a brief comeback at the age of 59, pitching three innings for the Kansas City A's.<br />
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He approached his major league pitching debut no differently than he approached any of the 2,500 games he pitched during his career. "It was just another game," he said. "And home plate was where it always was."<br />
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Though Paige had the ability to make throwing a baseball look effortless, he spent his life perfecting the art. And, eventually, he got his chance to show the world he was capable of competing with the best.<br />
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In the work that you do, you may have to wait years before you get your chance to play in the big leagues. And the fact is, the chance may never come in just the way you would like. But if you’ve invested the proper preparation, you can be sure your time will come—and when it does you’ll succeed. <br />
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Never give up on the dream of being the best—Today Counts.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-59594249894814889362010-09-03T08:30:00.001-04:002010-09-03T08:35:29.314-04:00A Change of SeasonsOh, the dog days of summer. It’s a season of sensations. Open the back door and sweaty kids and dogs swoosh by. Who smells worse? It’s a toss-up. Here’s a summer sensation: that constant bloated feeling from too many cookouts with too many watermelon wedges and condiment laden hot dogs. Holy tummy trouble, Batman! And family vacations: don’t get me started. Cooped up with people twenty-four hours a day, people with whom you would not normally spend more than two hours a week. Help.<br />
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But now, summer is essentially over and not a sweltering moment too soon. I’m looking forward to a celebrating a new season. But what is there to celebrate in late summer? <br />
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Back-to-school is the closest thing we have to a national holiday between the 4th of July and Labor Day. The seasonal aisle at your local Walmart even changes colors. Gone are the red, white and blue paper plates and streamers. Now it’s black and white composition notebooks, rows of bright blue and orange Elmer’s Glue bottles and the nostalgically soothing green and gold Crayola boxes. Have you seen that Nike has a shoe in each of those color schemes? They are released just in time for the big business that is called back-to-school. The cool shoes and mega-sales pull parents into the maelstrom of the malls. <br />
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Whether you are the parent or the child there are emotions that go along with this “holiday” just like any other. There is a heightened sense of frantic joy knowing that the days are numbered. The brand-new school year with its unknown details is right around the corner and it is electrifying. New teachers, new friends, sometimes a whole new school. New clothes, new lunch box, new crayons, oh, such heady stuff! <br />
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You probably have indelible memories of shopping for all that new stuff. Those memories can be pleasant or unpleasant depending on your experience. Was it an amazing adventure or a foray into battle? Was it a buying bonanza or did money have to be spread thinly amongst several children? Were there cool clothes and a cool lunchbox or are you still haunted by the ridicule you endured for that faux leather vest? <br />
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Rare is the child who did not lay awake the night before school started wondering if the next day’s experiences would match the visions in his head. Hopes were for nice teachers and friends that accepted you, even in a faux leather vest. If you were changing schools, maybe you worried about finding your way in uncharted territory. And do you remember the angst you felt the first year you would have to “dress out” for gym class? Maybe that’s just me. <br />
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Anyway, there is no argument that this time of year is filled with what has become an American ritual. I see it happening around me and think: what marks time for me at this stage of my life? I do not participate in the back-to-school frenzy anymore. I’m a little nostalgic for the time when there were clearly defined transitions in life. I need some sort of ritual that draws a line of demarcation from one season to the next. Life indeed has its seasons and it would be nice to anticipate each change with a flurry of joyous activity. Changes in our lives usually descend on us unannounced. I’d like a little preparation time when everything is about to change. <br />
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Maybe I’ll work on that; a buying spree before every major change in my life. Buy myself some crayons and new tennis shoes. Oh wait, I already do that. So maybe, I’ll just imagine that tomorrow is the first day of a new “school of life” for me. I can joyously anticipate that tomorrow will be filled with adventures to live, lessons to learn, friends to make and new territory to navigate.<br />
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Anticipating tomorrow with joy is like enjoying the aroma of a backyard barbecue. Even the smell is delicious. Enjoying the anticipation that tomorrow may be something bigger, the start of a new adventure, makes today even better. I don’t have to fear tomorrow. I can celebrate it today. That makes today count.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-1180016331373733702010-06-28T10:37:00.000-04:002010-06-28T10:37:24.936-04:00Defining MomentsA defining moment is an instant so significant that life changes -- in a blink. According to writers of popular culture, sports teams, television shows and politicians can all have defining moments. Dr. Phil even has a quiz to help you identify yours. Yet, the reality is, that a person cannot be defined by a particular incident any more than Moby Dick can be fully understood by reading page 371. <br />
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What defines you? A house? A car? An occupation? Talent, abilities, accomplishments? You could answer that by determining what you value. Take inventory of the suitcase of values you carry with you. Some stuff was there to start with, kind of like a cosmic travel kit. Talents, intellect, physical attributes like good looks or athleticism; everyone is given a random sampling of the basics. Other valuables are received or attained by us through a series of exchanges. If we value a nice car we will exchange liquid assets to have one. If we value companionship (and regular sex) we will exchange independence for marriage. Ultimately, you define your life by what you decide you will not trade out of your valise of values.<br />
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Awhile back I was contemplating an out-of-state move for a new job. In talks with the new employer benefits and perks were discussed. Some were negotiable, some were not. Time off at Thanksgiving and Christmas to go home was not negotiable. I had the realization that if I was going to live that far away from my elderly parents, the time that I had left to spend with them was down to days. Time with my mother and father was so important to me that I would not exchange it. <br />
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If I say I value my health, every time I drive through a fast food line, I make an exchange for instant gratification. If I say I value my family and day after day, week after week, I work from very early to very late, leaving them no good part of me to talk to or interact with, I’ve exchanged the joys of family life for prestige or money or whatever payoff the business world gives me. If I say I value faith and spirituality and do not spend time developing my inner life with prayer and quiet reflection and the study of those disciplines, I have traded the eternal for the temporary. The age-old question is, “What does it profit a man to gain the whole world and lose his soul?” <br />
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The challenge is this: find the top ten things that you will not trade away. Spend some time actually determining what the non-negotiables are. We think we know ourselves but without a little purposeful thought, life usually just happens to us and we drift off course. Then, write them down. Put them on the refrigerator or bathroom mirror. Let your life be defined by them. Be the man or woman who has an unfaltering grip on what is important to you and let nothing take it away from you. Whether it is the lure of abundance or the struggle of hardship that tempts you to exchange it for the immediate, keep what you value with all diligence. And after awhile, if you find that you have exchanged something you thought you valued, be honest with yourself. Reevaluate. And if necessary, make another exchange to get it back. It’s worth it to work at this thing called life. So get your suitcase and let’s make TODAY COUNT.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-17724454261396705302010-03-12T09:17:00.001-05:002010-03-12T09:26:20.492-05:00A FRIEND'S LISTIf you are like millions of other people, you have visited one or more social networking sites on the internet. Two of the most popular sites are MySpace and Facebook. Wikipedia reports that MySpace, with its 118 million users, had been number one site until June of 2008 when Facebook passed them. Since then FB has grown to, a reportedly, 400 million users worldwide. These sites offer the opportunity to make friends, develop personal profiles, post to blogs, join groups, and upload photos, music, and videos.<br />
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And because of this phenomenon, the concept of a “friends list” is familiar to most of us. Your friends list is comprised of the people you consider worthy of conversation. People you enjoy interacting with and on some level trust with information about yourself. <br />
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There is no doubt that people make lasting and important connections with folks they meet online. But I have a lot of questions. Am I able to really feel emotionally connected to people I never see face to face or touch? Do I even need emotional connections? Can’t I get along just fine avoiding the intimacy that developing “real life” friendships would require? And just who from my friends list will visit me in the hospital, help me paint the house, stand beside me in court or at the graveside of a loved one? Even more importantly who will I be able to help in a tangible way when tragedy strikes them? <br />
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I read a quote recently that struck a vibrant chord with me and started me thinking about these things. “The friend who holds your hand and says the wrong thing is made of dearer stuff than the one who stays away." Barbara Kingsolver<br />
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There are times when words fail us. There are times when words are not enough. There are plenty of times that words cannot fix a thing but we use them anyway to try to help make sense of life with its twists and turns. Social networking is a phenomenon built primarily on words and the occasional two-dimensional picture download. And plenty of people like it that way. But there is something about sitting with a friend, being fully present, that all the crafted and interesting words in the world will not replace. We need other people and other people need us. We may not always know the right thing to say, but we can take the time to develop relationships and be a true friend. We each can be the friend who does not stay away. Spend some time with your friends today. Today Counts.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-75307730669579424022009-12-23T09:57:00.000-05:002009-12-23T09:58:21.278-05:00It's December 23rd...Is this morning of the eve of christmas eve? I wait all year for Christmas Eve. Yes, that’s right Christmas Eve. Christmas eve is filled with so much tradition in our family--almost more than Christmas day. A big family dinner is part of this tradition. My grandparents were Lutherans from Czechoslavakia and many of these traditions and recipes have been a part of the Czech-Lutheran tradition, literally, for hundreds of years. The dinner starts with the reading of the Christmas story from the book of Luke along with other scriptures and then after scripture we have family communion. In our communion we use a special large communion wafer (oplatki) that has the nativity imprinted on it. Then after scriptures, communion, and prayer—Dinner! The food we eat on Christmas eve has been in our family tradition for hundreds of years…and the main course is…haluska. Haluska is a homemade potato dumplings served with cottage cheese and small pieces of pork salt for flavor. Some people serve haluska with poppy seed. My sister Faith is the only one left in our family who likes poppy seed. For the rest of us the cottage cheese/pork salt version is the fav. We use the pork salt although the original recipe would not have, because they were fasting meat until midnight of Christmas eve in observance of Advent. Aside from the haluska we have sauerkraut and mushroom soup. Yes, you heard it right. In fact, yesterday I overnighted the imported European mushrooms to my two sisters in Ohio. Here in sunny Florida, a long ways from the place where this all began, I'm about to start soaking the imported European mushrooms today and will begin cooking the soup tonight. that's kinda my task. I start cooking early because the longer you cook sauerkraut the milder and sweeter it gets. i think i've gotten the recipe pretty close to my grandmothers--or at least how i remember it. Now here’s where things go sauer…along with the traditional Valo family foods we always have ham and baked beans… because the people who have married into the family need something to eat too. I must admit that our traditional food is probably an acquired taste but after all these years, it brings our family together. That’s what I love about holiday traditions. No matter where our life’s journey has taken us to, at least for a moment, it seems that tradition brings us back together. And for my sisters who I’ll not be with on Christmas Eve because of distance, maybe we’ll still draw near in heart, even for a moment, by celebrating these traditions wherever we are. Well, that’s our Christmas eve tradtion. Do you have one, If so, what’s yours?<br />Merry Christmas!Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-86877118510960741322009-12-02T11:32:00.000-05:002009-12-02T11:34:12.984-05:00Christmas MemoriesChristmas Memories<br /><br />Christmas has ALWAYS been my favorite time of the year. Growing up in the north it seemed that Christmas was especially enchanting. Shopping in our downtown was wonderful. Snow lined streets, people dressed up in festive winter sweaters, Christmas lights glowing from behind mounds of snow. A large evergreen in the town square where children from various schools would carol providing that crowning touch of Christmas ambience. I can hear them laughing and singing in pages of my mind, "City side walks, busy side walks, dressed in holiday style. In the air....." you get the idea. A lifetime of special moments just like those written in story books.<br /><br />I moved to Florida in March of 1985. Spring and summer passed, soon fall was upon us and Christmas decorations began to appear everywhere. However, something seemed to be awry. The chill in the air that seemed to set the stage for the entire holiday drama never arrived. Instead a sub-tropical heat wave hit, forcing me to exchange my festive sweaters for a "Santa tank top." Oh yes, there were Christmas lights... but twinkle lights on palm trees almost seemed perverse. Now those Christmas carols that once rang from the mouths of rosy cheeked children seemed awful coming from a battery powered musical sand dollar. How miserable! Each new day added to the resentment I felt toward this awful charade of Christmas. This was not Christmas as I remembered it. I finally resolved that I would not celebrate in this land. I would wait until I could return home to the land of enchantment where Christmas joys abounded. <br /><br />Soon my new acquaintances in Florida began to sense my cynicism toward the holiday that I once loved most. One night I was reciting my Christmas discontent when someone offered insight that would forever change my life. They started by saying that the reason I resented these Florida holiday traditions was because they were not the traditions I remembered. They went on to say that in order for me to find any joy I would need to make new memories. Oh my, what a thought.<br /><br />Unbeknownst to me or my Christmas counselor, two other aquaintances left the crowd and to plan an elfish scheme. When I got home that evening, awaiting me at my door I found a beautiful, freshly cut, three foot evergreen tree. Fixed to the top was a bright red bow and a note: “We love you and want you to share Christmas with us! – from, Your new friends in Florida.” At that moment I sat down on the porch stoop and tears that came to my eyes seem to bring a clarity that I had quietly encountered my first new Florida Christmas memory. Within moments I called the Christmas culprits and told them that since I was going to have to now decorate a tree that they would have to come and help me (make more memories.) Within a short time my small apartment was filled with people, Christmas music and the making of new memories. Now, over twenty years later, early in each December, those friends and a score of others gather with me to continue the memories begun on that hot December night.<br /><br />My advice to you during this holiday season is to remember your old friends and dare to make some memories with some new ones. Don’t let this Christmas season pass without making some great memories because today counts.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-61704210667215511662009-09-16T13:17:00.000-04:002009-09-16T13:21:27.092-04:00Words...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:punctuationkerning/> <w:validateagainstschemas/> <w:saveifxmlinvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:ignoremixedcontent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:alwaysshowplaceholdertext>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> <w:dontgrowautofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:latentstyles deflockedstate="false" latentstylecount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><style> <!-- /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:4.3pt; mso-pagination:none; mso-hyphenate:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language:#00FF;} p.MsoBodyText, li.MsoBodyText, div.MsoBodyText {mso-style-noshow:yes; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:none; mso-hyphenate:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language:#00FF;} @page Section1 {size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;} --> </style><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ansi-language:#0400; mso-fareast-language:#0400; mso-bidi-language:#0400;} </style> <![endif]--> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-bottom: 10.1pt;">Nonwords.<span style=""> </span>They crack me up. It also cracks me up that people will debate with you that they are real words.<span style=""> </span>Words like irregardless, annoyment and orientated.<span style=""> </span>These are nonwords.<span style=""> </span>I heard someone use the term “conversated” the other day. Not a word, people. Debone. Unravel. Nonword, nonword.<span style=""> </span>Why use these when there are so many real words?</p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-bottom: 10.1pt;">I love words. They are my favorite connection to other people. I can use them to explain, to describe, to entertain, to warn, remind, or argue. And define.<span style=""> </span>I love to search for just the right word, with the perfect nuance of meaning, to insure that I portray exactly what I want another person to feel or believe.<span style=""> </span>Wanting to be understood compels me to carefully choose from the 40,000 or so words that I am told make up the average American’s vocabulary.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-bottom: 10.1pt;">The use of words is part and parcel to being human. The spoken word predates any other kind of communication by thousands of years. Before there was a book, or a painted canvas, words conveyed what someone else saw or heard or knew. Try to think of what the world would be like without words. It’s unimaginable. Even those who are unable to speak, use sign language “words”. </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-bottom: 10.1pt;">Words are all around us. They bombard us from television screens and radios.<span style=""> </span>In restaurants, movie theaters, in the work place, on the street corner, everywhere, it seems like everyone is hurling some of those 40,000 words at you. For all kinds of reasons. Some are beneficial to us. They are meant to inform or help.<span style=""> </span>Some are hurtful.<span style=""> </span>They criticize or denigrate or mock. Some are neither, they’re just extraneous noise. </p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-bottom: 10.1pt;">About now, you’re probably thinking, yeah, yeah. I get it. There are a lot of words in the world.<span style=""> </span>What’s my point? <span style=""> </span>It is this: Words are powerful and words are important. Words do not just define other words.<span style=""> </span>How I use words can define me.<span style=""> </span>My use of words can tell people much about me and my preferences, my outlook, my character.<span style=""> </span>What I say can let people know how much they have affected my life. How much I appreciate, admire and love them. Or I can use words to hide all of that. I can hide that you have been instrumental in making me a better person.<span style=""> </span>I can mask that I wouldn’t have made it without your friendship.<span style=""> </span>I can conceal that you mean an awful lot to me.<span style=""> </span></p> <p class="MsoBodyText" style="margin-bottom: 10.1pt;">What have you not said that you need to say?<span style=""> </span>What words do you use to hide that you are hurting, or confused, or sad?<span style=""> </span>Let’s choose the right words.<span style=""> </span>Let’s say what needs to be said today because today counts.</p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7758406300757779057.post-52747733623140532012009-05-01T08:00:00.000-04:002009-04-30T12:10:38.579-04:00You Sound So Convinced...It Must Be True!<p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"><strong>I meet people all the time who are so passionate about convincing others of their perspectives in life. It seems to me that the older I get that I am "certain" about fewer things. I think I'm better now about taking my time to form positions on stuff. In fact, I often say "I'm observing that"...because I know that once I personally become convinced about something I almost never change. So, I guess here you will find some of my observations and some of the things of which I've become convinced. I'll do my best not to abuse either.<br /></strong></span></p><br /><p><span style="font-family:arial;color:#cccccc;"><strong>I don't know if I have much to say because I talk all the time. Is there anything left? Well, only time will tell. And you get to observe or become convinced of that.</strong></span></p>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09966665161965984088noreply@blogger.com0