nogreaterlove.myfreeforum.org :: Christian Thoughts. . .

Ceramic · Posts: 779 8/8/1975

“If God be for us, who can be against us? Let us be patient and endure, for we shall receive eternal beatitude. Let us forgo all earthly diversions and joys — they are not for us. It is said: “…where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” And our treasure is in the Heavens, so let us strive towards the Heavenly Kingdom with all our heart. For there all that is sorrowful shall become transformed into joy, all abasement – into glory, all sorrows and tears and sighs – into solace; pains and illness and labors – into eternal painless peace.”

~ Elder Hilarion Ponomariov.

Img: Life is so good" by Michael Ivanovich Ignatiev (1917)

Ceramic · Posts: 779 8/8/1975

A possession ought to belong to the possessor ... not the possessor to the possession.

Whosoever, therefore, does not use his patrimony as a possession, who does not know how to give and distribute to the poor, he is the servant of his wealth, not its master; because like a servant he watches over the wealth of another and not like a master does he use it of his own. Hence, in a disposition of this kind, we say that the man belongs to his riches, not the riches to the man.

~ St. Ambrose of Milan

Ceramic · Posts: 779 8/8/1975

Personal opinions have no role in ministry of any kind. When we represent the Church, then we ought only say and do what the Church has asked us to do. All else is wasted energy and an opportunity for sin. It is when we lapse into personal opinions, even when we dress them in the language of the Church, that conflict will arise.
- His Grace, Bp. JOSPEH

Claire

Silence That Screams
by Rev. Fr. Joseph J. Allen

It is difficult and almost impossible for us to imagine in today’s world that silence is beautiful. What was possible at one time is quickly becoming extinct in all areas, but greatest amongst those disappearing elements is silence. When we shop in the stores we hear bells of all sorts e.g.. cash registers. Driving for only the shortest time can bring every kind of noisy sound, from the toll booth to the old car next to yours with a bad muffler. Then, of course, — there is the neighbor who runs the lawn mower at every hour or, for the apartment dweller it is the young couple upstairs (and young couples so very often begin their married life in apartments) who have all those first year “battles.”

But I cannot help feeling that somewhere in the depth of man’s soul he longs for silence, for a time when the phone won’t ring and he won’t “have” to listen to the newest FM radio. But we seem trapped by it all. How can man escape all this without becoming isolated, or greater, from becoming neurotic? Where can he turn to find the “silent sound,” sound that can in a way scream about a kind of joy just because it is silent. This is the joy that needs no sound to be joy, the joy that a mother understands when she places her ear to the face of her newly born infant and hears the soft sound of life as it breathes.

This is the sound of a “new” life and it reminds us of the sounds of another “new” life, the one that God created “in the beginning.” Surely the sounds then were such “silent” sounds, sounds of movement which also screamed of the beauty of His Works. I cannot help but feel that somehow mankind has placed himself in a position that will not allow appreciation of such beauty.

There is a silence that Christians must remember and Henry Ward Beecher said it best: “More quarrels are smothered by just shutting your mouth and holding it shut, than by all the wisdom in the world.” This is my personal silence which for most of us will certainly be a “change.” Certainly it is time for us to hear those “silent sounds” again——to remind us of what life is really about and the lenten message is exactly that; it tells about the beauty and depth of life.

Ceramic · Posts: 779 8/8/1975

Interesting article ... it is my philosophy to remain silent on the occassions that it is blatantly obvious that a person is making accusations at me that are "out of context" or their own interpretation of events which may actually be quite misguided by their own opinion and not actual fact from my end. People love to point the accusing finger and play victim and say, 'see - she is an unloving person, what kind of Orthodox is she (hmm, judging), see - she is this, see - she is that' when in actual fact all I am doing is avoiding the need for unnecessary and unwarranted conflict to escalate from something that in actual fact was never there in the first place and a figment of someone elses imagination.

Wrongful accusations are a wreath of humility for the person being accused ... and if patience is maintained in love - God knows this and will free that accused person in the Kingdom to Come.

There is nothing worse than being misunderstood and hated by people ... but there is nothing greater than suffering that pain for the love of God.

Claire

Ceramic · Posts: 779 8/8/1975

Claire

Psalm 139
For the director of music. Of David. A psalm.

O LORD, you have searched me
and you know me.

You know when I sit and when I rise;
you perceive my thoughts from afar.

You discern my going out and my lying down;
you are familiar with all my ways.

Before a word is on my tongue
you know it completely, O LORD.

You hem me in—behind and before;
you have laid your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,
too lofty for me to attain.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, [a] you are there.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,

even there your hand will guide me,
your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,"

even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,

your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me
were written in your book
before one of them came to be.

How precious to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!

Were I to count them,
they would outnumber the grains of sand.
When I awake,
I am still with you.

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.

See if there is any offensive way in me,
and lead me in the way everlasting.

-------

God chose an ordinary individual for the extraordinary task of raising his son. The son of God needed a mother. The job of mother is critically important under any circumstances, but Mary was given the job of raising Emanuel -- God with us.

God could have chosen anyone -- a queen or a daughter of the most successful family in one of the greatest cities in the world. But he chose a girl of no social or financial status who was still practically a child herself and living in the hinterlands of Nazareth.

The choice of Mary illustrates how God uses ordinary people to fulfill his work. Moses complained he didn't have enough command as a speaker to lead people out of bondage. God chose David -- the kid brother -- to be a king. And Jesus chose uneducated men in lowly occupations as his disciples.

We look for the external --, career experience on a resume, the business suit, a fancy car, the right address. God looks much deeper. He looked at a teenage girl and saw a mother to raise the son of God. - Rich DeVos

Claire

A forever kind of love

One of our favorite patients had been in and out of our small, rural hospital several times, and all of us on med-surg had grown quite attached to her and her husband. In spite of terminal cancer and resulting pain, she never failed to give us a smile or a hug. Whenever her husband came to visit, she glowed. He was a nice man, very polite and as friendly as his wife. I had grown quite attached to them and was always glad to care for her.

I admired their expression of love. Daily, he brought her fresh flowers and a smile, then sat by her bed as they held hands and talked quietly. When the pain was too much and she cried or became confused, he hugged her gently in his arms and whispered until she rested. He spent every available moment at her bedside, giving her small sips of water and stroking her brow. Every night, before he left for home, he closed the door so they could spend time alone together. When he was gone, we'd find her sleeping peacefully with a smile on her lips.

On this night, however, things were different. As soon as I entered report, the day nurses informed us she had steadily taken a turn for the worse and wouldn't make it through the night. Although I was sad, I knew that this was for the best. At least my friend wouldn't be in pain any longer.

I left my report and checked on her first. When I entered the room, she aroused and smiled weakly, but her breathing was labored and I could tell it wouldn't be long. Her husband sat beside her, smiling, too, and said, "My Love is finally going to get her reward."

Tears came to my eyes, so I asked if they needed anything and left quickly. I offered care and comfort throughout the evening, and at about midnight she passed away with her husband still holding her hand. I consoled him and with tears running down his cheeks he said, "May I please be alone with her for awhile?" I hugged him and closed the door behind me.

I stood outside the room, blotting my tears and missing my friend and her smile. And I could feel the pain of her husband in my own heart. Suddenly from the room came the most beautiful male voice I have ever heard singing. It was almost haunting the way it floated through the halls. All of the other nurses stepped out into the hallways to listen as he sang "Beautiful Brown Eyes" at the top of his lungs.

When the tune faded, the door opened and he called to me. He looked me in the eyes then hugged me saying, "I sang that song to her every night from the first day we met. Normally I close the door and keep my voice down so as not to disturb the other patients. But I had to make sure she heard me tonight as she was on her way to heaven. She had to know that she will always be my forever love. Please apologize to anyone I bothered. I just don't know how I will make it without her, but I will continue to sing to her every night. Do you think she will hear me?"

I nodded my head "yes," unable to stop my tears. He hugged me again, kissed my cheek, and thanked me for being their nurse and friend. He thanked the other nurses, then turned and walked down the hall, his back hunched, whistling the song softly as he went.

As I watched him leave I prayed that I, too, would someday know that kind of forever love.

http://blessingsforlife.com/favforwards/foreverlove.htm

Claire

All that I need He will always be,
All that I need till His face I see;
All that I need through eternity,
Jesus is all I need. —Rowe

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