For those using the liturgical colors of the season of advent: Whenever I reflect upon the fact that purple is the color of Advent, I am reminded of an historical story. When Louis the IV was a young boy growing up in France the Royal family employed one of the best teachers in the land to instruct him on the ways of royalty. When he arrived the first thing that he did was to give the young prince a purple tunic. Your grace, he said, I cannot give you orders, for I am but a commoner. How can a commoner command royalty. But I give you this purple tunic. And every time I see you doing something unbecoming of the royal prince, I am going to point to the purple and remind you that that represents France. I will remind you that it is for that that your countrymen died. I will not make my appeal to you, your Prince, I will make my appeal to the purple.

Stand on the rim of the Grand Canyon or fly over the Pacific Ocean. Gaze on the pyramids at Giza that were already more than a thousand years old at the time of the Exodus or hold in your palm a piece of pottery shaped by another hand when Jesus was a boy. Suddenly you see your life for the fragile and brief breath it is. Suddenly you realize the magnitude of this eternal mystery we call "God." You catch your breath. You feel in the pit of your stomach what the psalmist felt when he looked at the starry sky and wrote, "What is man, that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him?" Amazing! We are small. We are infinitesimal. Our minds are too primitive to comprehend the majesty of God. Our hearts are too small to contain the love of God. Our lives are too short to search out the works of God. Yet! God cares for us.

A man on vacation was strolling along outside his hotel in Acapulco, enjoying the sunny Mexican weather. He heard the screams of a woman kneeling in front of a child.

The man knew enough Spanish to determine that the boy had swallowed a coin. Seizing the child by the heels, the man held him up, gave him a few shakes, and an American quarter dropped to the sidewalk.

"Oh, thank you sir!" cried the woman. "You seemed to know just how to get it out of him. Are you a doctor?"

"No, ma'am," replied the man. "I'm with the United States Internal Revenue Service."

This was Zacchaeus. A shake down artist. A man who could get the last quarter out of you.

One of my favorite theologians, Mr. Rogers, used to say: "Have you noticed that the very same people who are bad sometimes are the very same people who are good sometimes?" It reminds me of a story called, "Two Wolves." It goes like this:

An old Cherokee chief was teaching his grandson about life..."A fight is going on inside me," he said to the boy. 'It is a terrible fight and it is between two wolves. One is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, self-doubt, and ego.

The other is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. This same fight is going on inside you - and inside every other person, too."

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather, "Which wolf will win?"

The old chief simply replied, "The one you feed."

As a passenger boarded the Los Angeles-to-New York plane, he told the flight attendant to wake him and make sure he got off in Dallas. The passenger awoke just as the plane was landing in New York. Furious, he called the flight attendant and demanded an explanation. The fellow mumbled an apology and, in a rage, the passenger stomped off the plane. "Boy, was he ever mad!" another crew member observed to her errant colleague. "If you think he was mad," replied the flight attendant, "you should have seen the guy I put off the plane in Dallas!"

One day Dwight Morrow and his wife, the parents of Anne Lindbergh, were in Rugby, England.  After wandering through the streets they realized that they had lost their way.  At this moment an incident occurred that entered into Morrow's philosophy and became a guiding principle in his life. He stopped a little Rugby lad of about 12 years. "Could you tell us the way to the station?" he asked. "Well," the boy answered, "You turn to the right there by the grocer's shop and then take the second street to the left. That will bring you to a place where four streets meet. And then, sir, you had better inquire again." 

"This  answer came to symbolize for Dwight Morrow his own method of approaching complicated problems," writes Harold Nicolson in his excellent biography. "It implied in the first place a realistic skepticism regarding the capacity of human intelligence. It was in the second place an object lesson in the inevitability of gradualness. And in the third place, it was a parable of how, when the ultimate end is uncertain, one should endeavor to advance, if only a little way, in the correct, rather than the incorrect direction."

During the first day of Boy Scout camp, a scoutmaster was called home because of an emergency and was not planning to return until the following day. As he prepared to leave, he gathered his charges together and made Joe, one of the patrol leaders, the acting scoutmaster until he returned. As soon as the scoutmaster was out of sight, the newly appointed leader began to give orders. He had the younger boys set up his tent, sent another after candy, and told the rest to clean up the area, even though it was recreation time. “You can’t do that,” they said. “Mr. Whitten said it was recreation time!” Joe was not impressed. “I can do whatever I want to. And furthermore, I don’t care what Mr. Whitten said, because Mr. Whitten isn’t here!” He must have seen the smiles on the Scouts’ faces, because he turned around to see Mr. Whitten standing there. He had returned for his car keys, had heard everything, and, needless to say, appointed a new acting leader.

Joe assumed what the priests of Malachi’s day assumed, that they could act in any way they chose because the one who guaranteed justice was nowhere to be seen. But both Joe and the priests found out otherwise. The keeper of justice was seeing their deeds and hearing their words and would ultimately set things right.

On the evening of April 25, 1958, a young Korean exchange student, a leader in student Christian affairs in the University of Pennsylvania, left his flat and went to the corner to post a letter to his parents in Pusan. Turning from the mailbox he stepped into the path of eleven leather-jacketed teenage boys. Without a word they attacked him, beating him with a blackjack, a lead pipe and with their shoes and fists. Later, when the police found him in the gutter, he was dead. All Philadelphia cried out for vengeance. The district attorney secured legal authority to try the boys as adults so that those found guilty could be given the death penalty. Then a letter arrived from Korea that made everyone stop and think. It was signed by the parents and by twenty other relatives of the murdered boy. It read in part:

"Our family has met together, and we have decided to petition that the most generous treatment possible within the laws of your government be given to those who have committed this criminal action. In order to give evidence of our sincere hope contained in this petition, we have decided to save money to start a fund to be used for the religious, educational, vocational, and social guidance of the boys when they are released. We have dared to express our hope with a spirit received from the gospel of our Savior Jesus Christ who died for our sins."

Gene Simmons of the group KISS visited the Pentagon to promote military service on May 16, 2019 where he talked about his mother, who recently died at the age of 93. She was 14 when she was put in a Nazi concentration camp. As he spoke he had to stop on numerous occasions to gain his composure. This is what he said:

"I was born in Israel. I am a proud son of a concentration camp survivor, Nazi Germany. My mother was 14 when she was in the camps. My mother just passed at 93, but if Americans could see and hear my mother talk about America they would understand. I'll just cut to the chase. When we first came to America my mother let me stay up and watch TV with her. I couldn't speak English very well and my mother could barely get by. She worked 6 days a week and at night we would watch the news and whatever and by 12 o'clock the 3 or 4 TV stations would go off the air and we would hear sssssss, just noise and people would presumably go to sleep. Before then we saw a jet flying through the sky and a man with in very deep voice was saying something, i couldn't understand it, and the jet then turned skyward and flew seemingly into the heavens through the clouds and I remember what the man said, "...and saw the face of God."

And then it melted into a black and white, because in those days we didn't have color TV. The flag was full screen, billowing, and I heard, 'da da da da da da,' you know the National Anthem. I didn't know what it was or what was going on and it was almost time to go to sleep. It was late. And, every time, my mother saw the flag, she would start crying. As an eight year old boy I didn't understand why, but from my mother's point of view we were finally safe. I may have been born in the country, that people throughout history have referred to as the promised land, but take my word for it...America is the promised land. For everybody. And don't be ashamed. Don't hesitate. We need to teach young people to be comfortable saying, 'God bless America.'"

As you know, there are probably hundreds of walking on water jokes around. My favorite is about a duck hunter who bought a new retriever. Besides being a beautiful dog, it was guaranteed to be the best retriever anyone had ever seen. He couldn't wait to show off his new dog to his buddies. And then he couldn't say enough about his dog. All through the trip down to the camp and all evening long, he talked nonstop about his dog and how good it was going to be.

Opening day came. The hunters were all sitting in the duck blind early in the morning. The owner of the new dog was filled with excited anticipation. The dog sat next to him, ready. A flock of ducks flew over; the dog began to tremble in excitement and anticipation. A shotgun fired. At a signal from his owner, the dog took off after the duck like a streak of lightening. It jumped out of the blind, over the cover and onto the water. That's right, it didn't swim, it ran right across the water and retrieved the duck. They couldn't believe it. Everybody was flat out amazed.

This went on a couple of more times. A duck would be shot and the dog would run across the water and retrieve the duck without ever getting its feet wet. The owner was beaming. If he had grinned anymore his face would have split in two. He couldn't stand it. "So what do y'all think? What do you think of my new dog?"

One of the guys who was tired of hearing how wonderful this dog was, said, "Well, he's good looking all right. But I don't know if I'd want a dog like that or not. The dad gum thing can't swim."

One of the favorite stories of the great Danish philosopher, Soren Kierkegard, concerns an emperor, touring his domain and receiving the accolades of his people. When the entourage reached the market square of one village, his carriage was surrounded by cheering villagers and peasants. To the amazement of his neighbors, one brash young farmer stepped out of the crowd and approached the emperor's carriage.

"Give me a boon, Sire," he pleaded. "Grant me a special blessing."

The villagers were even more amazed at the emperor's reply: "Of course, my good man," he said. "Get into my carriage. Come with me. Live in my palace. Eat at my table. Marry my daughter. Be my son-in-law."

The young man exclaimed his delight. To be the emperor's son-in-law! Then he thought about it. No more Saturday nights at the pub with his friends. No more dirty, comfortable peasant clothes. He'd have to get dressed up. He'd have to take a bath - maybe every week. He'd have to clean his fingernails. He'd have to learn the manners of the court.

He sadly shook his head and lowered his eyes. "No, Sire," he said. "I would be too uncomfortable. It would pull me out of my comfortable customs. It would be too hard to live up to. It would take too much of me."

"If you want to do something for me, give me a plot of ground, a farm, a house of my own; but to live in your palace, eat at your table, be your son-in-law - this is too much." So he declined it.

You see - he wanted the emperor's blessing; but he wanted it on his own terms. He wanted to be blessed in doing what he wanted to do - not what the emperor wanted him to do. He wanted to be blessed right where he was, not moved out of his comfortable customs. He wanted the blessing, but not the responsibility that went with it.

Well-trained is the son who can hang onto his father's words as well as he can a flyball (Prov 4:4).

Happy will be the child who cries because his dad loves him (Prov 10:12)

A wise father hates sin in order to love his son.

A good father shows the value of a book as well as a buck.

The dad who wonders how much of a teacher he needs to be would do well to go to the school of Solomon.

The man who finds a good woman should show his son how to avoid a bad one (Prov 2,5,6,7,9).

What a father knows about sex might help his children as much as surprise them (Prov 23:26-8).

A wise son makes a glad dad as much as a foolish one makes a glum mum (Prov 10:1).

Thank God for Fathers who not only gave us life but taught us what to do with it.

If you're amazed at how hard your dad can make it for you, try it without him (Prov 15:5).

Double whammy; foolish son and contentious mammy (Prov 19:13).

I remember the first time I capsized my small sailboat.  I screwed up my courage and decided to see just how much I could get out of her.  I was amazed and thrilled even though I ended up in the lake, struggling with my friend to right her again.  I’ve been frightened of sailing ever since, but not frightened of the boat.  I know her and I know that capsizing is not the worst thing that can happen to you.  Until I was willing to risk capsizing, I robbed myself of much of the joy of sailing.

Playing it safe may have merit in some situation, but as a style of life it is very limiting.

We miss the richness of new friendships, new discoveries in faith, new opportunities to serve others, new possibilities for joy and adventure.

The problem with most of us is that we prefer the hell of a predictable situation rather than risking the joy of an unpredictable one.

Sacrifice is not a word we use much these days, is it? When was the last time you used it or thought about it in terms of your own life? When was the last time you sacrificed anything for anybody? Come to think about it, there's only one sport as far as I know where the term is actually used. Do you know which sport that is? You can almost hear Harry Cary announcing it over the radio, "And there it goes, a long fly ball to left; easy out, but the man on third tags up and trots home. Sacrifice fly."

What a great idea: you're out, but you helped someone else score a run. Baseball is one of the few sports where you lose but the team still gains. Do you remember the way comedian George Carlin spells it out in his routine about the contrast between the hardness of football and the softness of baseball? He says: In football you Tackle! In baseball, you "catch flies…" In football you Punt!  In baseball you "bunt…" Football is played on a Gridiron! Baseball is played on a "field…" In football you Score!  In baseball you "go home…" In football you Kill!  In baseball you "sacrifice…"

Baseball may be the only sport where you actually can hear this word. It's one of the few places anywhere that you hear it in a self-centered, take-care-of-yourself, don't-worry-about-anybody-else society. In contrast to football, sacrifice may sound like a sign of weakness but I hardly think of any of the Atlanta Braves or Minnesota Twins as weak. Baseball's one thing; life is quite another. Who sacrifices anything any more in a time like ours? Who really denies themselves and takes up crosses anymore? Actual sacrifice can lead to bitterness, especially when you thought you were trusting God's plan for your life and suddenly you realize that you have to sacrifice all your greatest hopes and dreams as burnt offerings on the high altar of the providence of God.

A priest friend of mine went to the missions in Africa. It took him three years to learn Swahili. He was working in a small village when he could finally communicate to his community. They understood him, but one of the men came up to him afterwards and said, "Father, we thank you for all the sacrifices you've made to preach to us in Swahili, but you don't understand God the way we do. You speak of God as out there in the universe, but for us God is like a tiger and we are the prey. Not only does He hunt us down, but we are already captured by him and baptism puts the seal on this capture. We are held by Him and He owns us, so there isn't any great difficulty in reaching him. He is the one who seizes us."

The priest learned more from that man, the native, than he probably learned in the seminary. It's just a way of looking at God which is more meaningful in some ways than some kind of a vague, distant God in whom you have faith. We are owned by God. Once you have the faith to know that the Lord will sustain you and keep you and hold you and protect you, you don't have to worry. Faith then becomes the support of your life.

At his father's funeral, American Carl Lewis placed his 100-meter gold medal from the 1984 Olympics in his father's hands. "Don't worry," he told his surprised mother. "I'll get another one."

A year later, in the 100-meter final at the 1988 games, Lewis was competing against Canadian world-record-holder Ben Johnson. Halfway through the race Johnson was five feet in front. Lewis was convinced he could catch him. But at 80 meters, he was still five feet behind. It's over, Dad, Lewis thought. As Johnson crossed the finish, he stared back at Lewis and thrust his right arm in the air, index finger extended. Lewis was exasperated. He had noticed Johnson's bulging muscles and yellow-tinged eyes, both indications of steroid use.

"I didn't have the medal, but I could still give to my father by acting with class and dignity," Lewis said later. He shook Johnson's hand and left the track. But then came the announcement that Johnson had tested positive for anabolic steroids. He was stripped of his medal. The gold went to Lewis, a replacement for the medal he had given his father.

One of the most popular stories of the past decade has to be the story of a man named Henry who lived in a valley near a river. The river had reached flood stage. Everybody was being evacuated to higher ground. Except Henry. He was staying at his house and not abandoning it. God would take care of him, he contended. Soon the water had risen to Henry's porch. His friends paddled by in a rowboat. Henry was sitting on his windowsill. "We have come to save you, Henry," they said. Henry would not budge. "God will save me," he said. It was not long before the flood waters had risen several feet. Henry was now stranded on the second floor. A rescue team came by in a motorboat. As he waved to the people from the window, they shouted to him, "Henry, we've come to save you." Henry said, "Don't worry about me. God will save me." Finally, Henry was sitting on top of his roof. A helicopter hovered overhead and someone shouted through a megaphone, "Henry, grab the rope before it's too late." But Henry would not budge. The waters rose higher. Henry drowned.

As Henry entered the gates of heaven the Lord met him. "Lord," said Henry, "I'm glad to meet you, but frankly, I am very disappointed. I counted on you to save me, but you let me drown." "Henry," said the Lord, shaking his head and smiling with understanding, "I sent a row boat, a motor boat, and even a helicopter to save you. What more did you want me to do?"

Youth is not a time of life, it is a state of mind, a product of the imagination, a vigor of the emotions, a predominance of courage over timidity, an appetite for adventure.

Nobody grows old by living a number of years. People grow old when they desert their ideals. Years wrinkle the skin, but to give up enthusiasm wrinkles the soul.

Worry, self-doubt, fear, and anxiety—these are the culprits that bow the head and break the spirit.

Whether seventeen or seventy, there exists in the heart of every person who loves life the thrill of a new challenge, the insatiable appetite for what is coming next. You are as young as your faith and as old as your doubts.

So long as your heart receives from your head messages that reflect beauty, courage, joy, and excitement, you are young. When your thinking becomes clouded with pessimism and prevents you from taking risks, then you are old.

There was a Zen school in Japan. They were training young boys in the discipline of meditation. The boys had been taken into seclusion. Among the boys there was one who kept stealing. So the boys finally put together a petition and brought the thief to the headmaster and stood there and said, "We are threatening right now to leave because we can't stand this kid any longer." With wisdom the Zen master approached them, looked at them, and said, "You are wise brothers. You are very wise. You are wise because you know the difference between right and wrong. You may go somewhere else to study if you wish, but this poor brother does not even know right from wrong. Who will teach him if I do not? I am going to keep him here even if all the rest of you leave." The story goes that a torrent of tears cleansed the face of that boy who had stolen, and the desire to steal was banished from him forever in that decisive moment.

It is small wonder that the image of the shepherd was frequently upon the lips of the savior. It was a part of his heritage and culture. Abraham, the father of the nation, was the keeper of great flocks. Moses was tending the flocks of his father-in-law, Jethro, when God called him into a special service. David was a shepherd boy called in from the fields to be the King of Israel.

The imagery of the shepherd was also imprinted upon the literature of the day. The 23rd Psalm is frequently referred to as the shepherd psalm. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside still waters."

When Isaiah spoke of the coming of the Messiah he worded it by saying: "He will feed his flock like a shepherd! He will gather his lambs into his arms." Yes, the tradition of the shepherd was very much a part of the heritage of Christ.

This picture comes more clearly into focus in the New Testament. Jesus once told a story about a shepherd who had 100 sheep, but one of them went astray. In our way of thinking a 99% return on our investment would be most desirable, but not this shepherd. He left the 99 to go in search of that one lost sheep. Later, when Jesus was speaking to a great throng of people, Mark tells us that he had compassion upon them because they were "as sheep without a shepherd."

Throughout the Judeo-Christian faith, then, the image of the shepherd has been stamped upon our thinking. In our scripture text for this morning Jesus again taps into this imagery when he refers to himself as the good shepherd. For a few moments this morning, I would like for us to examine together what he had in mind when he described himself as the Good Shepherd.

1. First, we have a shepherd that is a genuine shepherd.
2. Second, I think that the Good Shepherd knows his sheep.
3. Third, the Good Shepherd also includes other sheep.
4. Fourth, the shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.

It is in the home that we first develop our sense of who we are. Every child has a right to a secure, happy home life. Every child has a right to the love and nurture of his or her parents.

Akin to identity is the question of self-worth. Dr. James Dobson, author of several excellent books on raising children cautions us that, "A child can learn to doubt his worth at home even when he is deeply loved by his parents! Destructive ideas find their way into his thinking process, leading him to conclude that he is ugly or incredibly stupid or that he has already proved himself to be a hopeless failure in life."

The famous Psychiatrist Dr. Alfred Adler had an experience when a young boy which illustrates just how powerful such a belief can be upon behavior and ability. He got off to a bad start in arithmetic and his teacher became convinced that he was "dumb in mathematics." The teacher then advised the parents of this "fact" and told them not to expect too much of him. They too were convinced. Alder passively accepted the evaluation they had placed upon him. And his grades in arithmetic proved they had been correct. One day, however, he had a sudden flash of insight and thought he saw how to work a problem the teacher had put on the board, and which none of the other pupils could work. He announced as much to the teacher. She and the whole class laughed. Whereupon, he became indignant, strode to the blackboard, and worked the problem much to their amazement. In doing so, he realized that he could understand arithmetic. He felt a new confidence in his ability, and went on to become a good math student.

We need to encourage our children. We need not only to surround them with love but we need to help them feel competent as persons.

I wish every one of us had inscribed on the walls of our home the words of Dorothy Law Nolte's work, "Children Learn What They Live," and then kept this constantly before us in our daily activities.

• If a child lives with criticism, he learns to condemn.
• If a child lives with hostility, he learns to fight.
• If a child lives with ridicule, he learns to be shy.
• If a child lives with shame, he learns to feel guilty.
• If a child lives with fear, he learns to be apprehensive.
• If a child lives with pity, he learns to feel sorry for himself.
• If a child lives with jealousy, he learns to feel guilty.

But...

• If a child lives with encouragement, he learns confidence.
• If a child lives with tolerance, he learns to be patient.
• If a child lives with praise, he learns to appreciate.
• If a child lives with security, he learns to have faith.
• If a child lives with acceptance, he learns to love.
• If a child lives with friendship, he learns joy.
• If a child lives with approval, he learns to like himself.
• If a child lives with recognition, he learns to have goals.
• If a child lives with fairness, he learns justice.
• If a child lives with honesty, he learns truth.
• If a child lives with sincerity, he learns to have faith in himself and those around him.
• If a child lives with love, he learns that the world is a wonderful place.

Dr. William Power, a professor at Southern Methodist University, describes an experience he had in Sunday school when he was a boy. His teacher was trying to explain to him and his rowdy friends the meaning of grace, but wasn't getting very far. She tried definitions and abstractions, to no avail. Finally, she realized something the boys had known from the start. She was not connecting. She was not getting through to them. They didn't have the foggiest notion what she was talking about.

So she took a deep breath and tried again: "Look boys, grace is the break you get when you don't deserve it. That's the simple explanation. But you won't really understand it till you experience it." And that's true isn't it? You need to have some living under your belt to understand the messes we make of our lives form time to time; how it impacts our lives and others. Then you know, when grace is shown, then you understand the power of grace.

Columnist Sheila Graham had a compelling interview with Ruby Bridges Hall sometime back. Maybe that name doesn't strike a bell. It will for some of you if I describe what Ruby went through as a child.

Ruby looked like a typical first-grader. With a big bow in her hair and lunch box in hand, she climbed the steps of William Frantz Elementary School for the first day of school. But little else was typical about that day in November 1960. Though she wasn't aware of it, Ruby had been chosen to be the first African-American child to integrate this particular New Orleans grade school. Every day on her way to school, escorted by armed federal marshals, she braved angry whites shouting at her as she entered an empty classroom. White parents had moved their children to other schools. Ruby did not realize until later, when a little boy told her why he couldn't play with her, that she was the reason for all the commotion.

In her interview Sheila Graham noted that even in this stressful situation of having mobs scream at her, little Ruby prayed every day, before and after school, for those who were verbally abusing her. Ruby Bridges Hall explained it this way: "One thing my mother always said to me was that when she couldn't be with me, if I was ever afraid, I should say my prayers . . . Even at night, if I would wake up from a nightmare and want to get up and go to her room, she would immediately ask, Did you say your prayers?' That's where that came from and it sort of stuck with me." 

Ruby's mother wanted her to know that no matter the situation she was never alone. She was connected. To be connected is to have power. It is to have an eternal presence in your life. It is to know Someone cares about you.

Sixties British rock star Cliff Richard, once called the "bad boy of pop" and "too sexy for television," became a devout believer and disciple of Jesus. Back in the '70s, he visited missionary outposts in the Sudan and refugee camps in Bangladesh as part of a mission trip for Tear Fund. In his book about his conversion to Christianity called Which One's Cliff?, he tells how "the first morning, I must have washed my hands a dozen times. Whenever we stopped, I made a beeline for the communal tap or the well; I didn't want to touch anything, least of all the people. Everyone in those camps, even the babies, was covered in sores and scabs.

"I was bending down to one little mite, mainly for the photographer's benefit, and trying hard not to have too close a contact, when someone accidentally stood on the child's fingers. He screamed out, and as a reflex, I grabbed hold of him, forgetting all about his dirt and his sores. I remember now that warm little body clinging to me, and the crying instantly stopped. In that moment, I knew I had an enormous amount to learn about practical Christian loving, but at least I'd started."

When you're raised in the country, hunting is just a natural part of growing up. For years I enjoyed packing up my guns and some food to head off into the woods. Even more than the hunting itself, I enjoyed the way these trips always seemed to deepen my relationship with friends as we hunted during the day and talked late into the night around the campfire. When an old friend recently invited me to relive some of those days, I couldn't pass up the chance. For several weeks before the trip, I had taken the time to upgrade some of my equipment and sight in my rifle. When the day came, I was ready for the hunt. What I wasn't ready for was what my close friend, Tom, shared with me the first night out on the trail.

I always enjoyed the time I spent with Tom. He had become a leader in his church and his warm and friendly manner had also taken him many steps along the path of business success. He had a lovely wife, and while I knew they had driven over some rocky roads in their marriage, things now seemed to be stable and growing. Tom's kids, two daughters and a son, were struggling in junior high and high school with the normal problems of peer pressure and acceptance.

As we rode back into the mountains, I could tell that something big was eating away at Tom's heart. His normal effervescent style was shrouded by an overwhelming inner hurt. Normally, Tom would attack problems with the same determination that had made him a success in business. Now, I saw him wrestling with something that seemed to have knocked him to the mat for the count.

Silence has a way of speaking for itself. All day and on into the evening, Tom let his lack of words shout out his inner restlessness. Finally, around the first night's campfire, he opened up.

The scenario Tom painted was annoyingly familiar. I'd heard it many times before in many other people's lives. But the details seemed such a contract to the life that Tom and his wife lived and the beliefs they embraced. His oldest daughter had become attached to a boy at school. Shortly after they started going together, they became sexually involved. Within two months, she was pregnant. Tom's wife discovered the truth when a packet from Planned Parenthood came in the mail addressed to her daughter. When confronted with it, the girl admitted she had requested it when she went to the clinic to find out if she was pregnant.

If we totaled up the number of girls who have gotten pregnant out of wedlock during the past two hundred years of our nation's history, the total would be in the millions. Countless parents through the years have faced the devastating news. Being a member of such a large fraternity of history, however, does not soften the severity of the blow to your heart when you discover it's your daughter.

Tom shared the humiliation he experienced when he realized that all of his teaching and example had been ignored. Years of spiritual training had been thrust aside. His stomach churned as he relived the emotional agony of knowing that the little girl he and his wife loved so much had made a choice that had permanently scarred her heart.

I'm frequently confronted with these problems in my ministry and have found that dwelling on the promiscuous act only makes matters worse. I worship a God of forgiveness and solutions, and at that moment in our conversation I was anxious to turn toward hope and healing.

I asked Tom what they had decided to do. Would they keep the baby, or put it up for adoption? That's when he delivered the blow. With the fire burning low, Tom paused for a long time before answering. And even when he spoke he wouldn't look me in the eye. "We considered the alternatives, Tim. Weighed all the options." He took a deep breath. "We finally made an appointment with the abortion clinic. I took her down there myself." I dropped the stick I'd been poking the coals with and stared at Tom. Except for the wind in the trees and the snapping of our fire it was quiet for a long time. I couldn't believe this was the same man who for years had been so outspoken against abortion. He and his wife had even volunteered at a crisis pregnancy center in his city.

Heartsick, I pressed him about the decision. Tom then made a statement that captured the essence of his problem...and the problem many others have in entering into genuine rest. In a mechanical voice, he said "I know what I believe, Tim, but that's different than what I had to do. I had to make a decision that had the least amount of consequences for the people involved."

Just by the way he said it, I could tell my friend had rehearsed these lines over and over in his mind. And by the look in his eyes and the emptiness in his voice, I could tell his words sounded as hollow to him as they did to me.

Show me a church where there is love, and I will show you a church that is a power in the community.

In Chicago a few years ago a little boy attended a Sunday school. When his parents moved to another part of the city the little fellow still attended the same Sunday school, although it meant a long, tiresome walk each way. A friend asked him why he went so far, and told him that there were plenty of others just as good nearer his home. "They may be as good for others, but not for me," was his reply. "Why not?" she asked. "Because they love a fellow over there," he replied.

If only we could make the world believe that we loved them there would be fewer empty churches, and a smaller proportion of our population who never darken a church door. Let love replace duty in our church relations, and the world will soon be evangelized.

At one time Andrew Carnegie was the wealthiest man in America. He came to America from his native Scotland when he was a small boy, did a variety of odd jobs, and eventually ended up as the largest steel manufacturer in the United States. At one time he had forty-three millionaires working for him. In those days a millionaire was a rare person; conservatively speaking, a million dollars in his day would be equivalent to at least twenty million dollars today.

A reporter asked Carnegie how he had hired forty-three millionaires. Carnegie responded that those men had not been millionaires when they started working for him but had become millionaires as a result.

The reporter's next question was, "How did you develop these men to becomes so valuable to you that you have paid them this much money?" Carnegie replied that men are developed the same way gold is mined. When gold is mined, several tons of dirt must be moved to get an ounce of gold; but one doesn't go into the mine looking for dirt - one goes in looking for the gold.

That's exactly the way we pastors need to view our people. Don't look for the flaws, warts, and blemishes. Look for the gold, not for the dirt; the good, not the bad. Look for the positive aspects of life. Like everything else, the more good qualities we look for in our people, the more good qualities we are going to find.

In his youth, Andrew Carnegie, the famous steel maker, worked for Thomas A. Scott, the local superintendent of the Pennsylvania Railroad. Carnegie was employed as a telegrapher, secretary, and general factotum at $35 a month.

One morning a serious railroad accident delayed the passenger trains and shunted freight trains onto the sidings, unable to move in either direction. Scott could not be located, so Carnegie plunged into the breach knowing what had to be done, but also aware that an error could cost him his job and perhaps criminal prosecution. He signed Scott's name to the orders and got the trains moving with no mishaps.

When Scott arrived at the office, Carnegie told him what had happened. Scott carefully looked over everything that the boy had done, and said nothing. "But I noticed," Carnegie said, "that he came in very regularly and in good time for some mornings after that."

Returning from Sunday school, where the Ten Commandments had been the topic of the day, a young boy asked his father, “Daddy, what does it mean when it says, ‘Thou shalt not commit agriculture’?” There was hardly a beat between the question and the father’s reply: “Son, that just means that you’re not supposed to plow the other man’s field,” an answer satisfactory to both of them.

About 6:00 A.M. on a Wednesday morning James Lawson of Running Springs, California (in the San Bernardino mountains) left home to apply for a job. About an hour later his thirty-six-year-old wife Patsy left for her fifth grade teaching job down the mountain in Riverside—accompanied by her two children, five-year-old Susan and two-year-old Gerald—to be dropped off at the baby-sitter's. Unfortunately, they never got that far. Eight and a half hours later the man found his wife and daughter dead in their wrecked car, upside down in a cold mountain stream. His two-year-old son was just barely alive in the forty-eight-degree water. But in that death the character of a mother was revealed in a most dramatic and heart-rending way. For when the father scrambled down the cliff to what he was sure were the cries of his dying wife, he found her locked in death, holding her little boy's head just above water in the submerged car. For eight and a half hours Patsy Lawson had held her beloved toddler afloat and had finally died, her body almost frozen in death in that position of self-giving love, holding her baby up to breathe. She died that another might live. That's the essence of a mother's love.

For 51 years Bob Edens was blind. He couldn't see a thing. His world was a black hall of sounds and smells. He felt his way through five decades of darkness. And then, he could see. A skilled surgeon performed a complicated operation and, for the first time, Bob Edens had sight. He found it overwhelming. "I never would have dreamed that yellow is so...yellow," he exclaimed. "I don't have the words. I am amazed by yellow. But red is my favorite color. I just can't believe red. I can see the shape of the moon and I like nothing better than seeing a jet plane flying across the sky leaving a vapor trail. And of course, sunrises and sunsets. And at night I look at the stars in the sky and the flashing light. You could never know how wonderful everything is."

Somewhere I read a true story about a chairman of a certain church committee who stood one Sunday morning before the congregation to present a minor matter of church business for a vote. After the vote, his next agenda item was to lead the congregation in singing several hymns. He confidently presented his project for a vote, fully expecting routine acceptance by the congregation. But to his surprise, the matter failed to win congregational approval. He was so completely rattled by this surprising turn of events that in introducing the next hymn, instead of inviting the group to join him in singing "I Stand All Amazed," he introduced it as "I Stand All Opposed." 

It was an honest slip of the tongue on his part but that was how he was feeling. He felt that everyone in the church was opposed to him personally. That happens in the church. We will disagree. But Heaven help the congregation that gets out the barbed wire and begins erecting it down the center aisle of the sanctuary. "A house divided against itself..." 

God indeed cares, and sent his Son to keep us from perishing because of our sins. The story is told of an ancient king who dearly loved his son but wanted him to grow in character by facing up to life's hardships. So he sent him out into life to meet whatever troubles might come his way. The young man thought he was alone and grew with each difficulty he met. He did not know that his father's love had caused the king to send out a group of strong and brave knights to look after his son. Through the dark nights when he could hear the howling of wild beasts, the prince had no idea that the knights were near at hand for his protection. In life we may think we are alone. We need to remember that a loving and caring heavenly Father is keeping watch over his own. We are never alone. God cares and he is watching over us.

When trouble arises, where, or to whom, do we turn? If sickness strikes, we turn to a doctor, or perhaps a pharmacist, who will give us the right medicine. When a marriage turns sour, couples are advised to see a marriage counselor. The disciples had a better plan. Caught in a wild storm on the sea which threatened their lives, they turned to Christ. Should we not use this source of help more often? For instance, many physical ills are caused by anxiety and worry, usually about something that will not even occur. Christ could well be the answer to such ills. He promises to ease our burdens. Putting anxiety into Christ's hands and trusting in him could eradicate many of them. And often it is the lack of any spiritual influence in the home that disrupts harmony and causes marital problems in the home and the breakup of the family. Young people who go wrong could have avoided many lures and pitfalls if they had been introduced to Christ. The Psalmist wisely pointed to the need to turn to God, especially in times of trouble. He emphasized God's interest in each one of us when he wrote his message from God: "Call on me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me" (Psalm 50:15).

The present decade may well be termed the Age of Anxiety. Anxiety is nothing new. In the Sermon on the Mount we read (Matthew 6:25, 33-34): "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? ... But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things shall be yours as well. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let the day’s own trouble be sufficient for the day."

We need not rehearse all the problems with the economy, crime, terrorists, and assassination attempts. The evening news plays the same familiar tune night in and night out. Sometimes we feel that these days we have to take the bad with the worst. Much of the time we feel apprehensive about the future. Feeling uneasy, we sometimes wonder what impending ill will befall us next.

In the light of many troubles, the Sermon on the Mount seems to be a tough saying from Jesus. It states that if our minds were set on God, we would not lack the needful things of this earth. When we are anxious over daily concerns, it often has a paralyzing effect on our religious life. Worrying about items of food and clothing directs our life inward toward ourselves rather than outward toward the Lord.

In his sermon the Lord does not speak out against working, or planning, or saving for the future. But our obsession with having the so-called better things in life and the increased amount of time it now takes to be able to afford them, has, too often, supplanted the art of living. Further, and inexcusable in God’s eyes, work has threatened the worship life of many Christians. Many people are working on Sundays. Others work so long and so hard during the week that they say they do not have time for God on Sundays. Jesus has no understanding of this and says in reply, "Do not be anxious about tomorrow. Seek ye first the kingdom of God, then all else will be added unto you."

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "If a man owns land, the land owns him." In some ways he is right. As we begin to own things in life and acquire better things, there are times that it seems that these things own us rather than the other way around. Our increased bills dictate to us that we must work overtime, work on Sunday, or that both husband and wife need to go to work. Maybe if we decided to own less, we could live more.

Jesus concludes his teaching on anxiety by stating that we are not to be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Let today’s troubles be sufficient for the day. In Deuteronomy 33:25 God says, "as thy days, so shall thy strength or we don’t trust in the Lord for strength to meet tomorrow or we don’t." Otherwise, we will constantly ruin the present by worrying about the future.

In Isaiah 41:13 God says, "For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you.’ Worry is an insult to God. Anxiety demonstrates lack of faith. When we feel anxious, we best kneel before the Lord, confess our sins, and surrender our anxieties to him."

Tolstoy told a story of a Czar and Czarina who wished to honor the members of their court with a banquet. They sent out invitations and requested that the guests come with the invitations in their hands. When they arrived at the banquet the guests were surprised to discover that the guards did not look at their invitations at all. Instead they examined their hands. The guests wondered about this, but they were also curious to see who the Czar and Czarina would choose as the guest of honor to sit between them at the banquet. They were flabbergasted to see that it was the old scrub woman who had worked to keep the palace clean for years. The guards, having examined her hands, declared, "You have the proper credentials to be the guest of honor. We can see your love and loyalty in your hands." 

A similar story is told of the great missionary to Burma, Adoniram Judson. Judson went to the King of Burma to ask him if he might have permission to go to a certain city to preach. The King, a pagan, but quite an intelligent man responded, "I'm willing for a dozen preachers to go but not you, not with those hands. My people are not such fools as to take notice of your preaching but they will note those calloused, work scarred hands. I worry that you will turn the whole kingdom to your god."

A few years back psychologist Richard Carlson wrote a best-selling book titled, Don't Sweat the Small Stuff. Carlson, who died ironically of a heart attack at age 45, got the idea for his book one day while driving his six-year-old daughter home from school. They got caught in rush hour traffic. They spent 40 minutes or so creeping along the freeway. As they sat in their car, Carlson's daughter looked out at all the other cars, also creeping along. And finally, she said, "Daddy, why are all the people mad?"

Her statement caused Carlson to begin looking at all the people stuck there in traffic. He realized that they did have grim, anxious looks on their faces. He knew they probably weren't mad, but they sure didn't look happy. And it caused him to reflect on the causes of their unhappiness. Perhaps they were reviewing where they needed to be and what they needed to do once they got there. Perhaps there were children to pick up, errands to run, dinner to make, work brought home to do. Or perhaps being stuck in traffic gave them the chance to think about things they were anxious about their families, their work, their health, etc. The result was that they looked mad. And so Carlson wrote his book, Don't Sweat the Small Stuff, for he was convinced that most of the things we worry over are really not worth worrying about in the first place.

Dad's are always giving advice. Perhaps you have heard a few of these from your father:

1. The man on the top of the mountain didn't fall there. 
2. Never underestimate the power of human stupidity. 
3. Marry a big woman; someone to give you shade in the summer and warmth in the winter. 
4. An excuse is a poor patch for the garment of failure. 
5. Never try to catch two frogs with one hand. 
6. Always throw away the box when you take the last piece of candy. 
7. Honesty is like a trail, once you get off it you realize you are lost. 
8. Remember who you are and where you came from. 
9. Wherever you are in life, first make friends with the cook. 
10. Don't shake the tree too hard, you never know what might fall out. 
11. A closed mouth gathers no feet.
12. Measure twice, cut once. San
13. The second time you get kicked in the head by a mule it's not a learning experience. 
14. Never buy anything that eats. 
15. You need to do what you have to do before you can do what you want to do. 
16. Well, you know what happens when you wrestle with pigs, you get all dirty and they love it. 
17. This is a democratic family; everyone gets a vote and I get five. 
18. If you're afraid to go too far, you will never go far enough. 
19. If you don't need it, don't buy it. 
20. If this is the worst thing that happens to you in life, don't worry about it. 
21. Never be so broke that you cannot afford to pay attention. 
22. You live to work, you work to live, but if you work to work I hope you don't live by me. 
23. If it is to be, it's up to me. 
24. Successful people make a habit of doing things that failures don't like to do. 
25. Don't let your studies interfere with your education. 
26. Don't be foolish just because you know how to. 
27. Marry your best friend. 
28. Peer pressure is a crack in the armor of your own conviction. 
29. Knowing what's right from wrong is education, doing what's right is execution. The latter is the hard part. 
30. The difference always is attitude. 
31. You have to eat an elephant in small bites. 
32. The one who quits last wins. 
33. Potential means you haven't done your best yet. 
34. Do you know what happened when I found out all the answers? They changed all the questions. 
35. The golden rule: the guy who's got the gold makes the rules.
36. If everybody else is doing it, it is probably wrong.

Things you should never let come out of your mouth without first thinking twice:

• It's no trouble at all.
•  love dogs.
• We have plenty of room.
• Call me any time.
• Is there anything I can do?
• My husband is a doctor/lawyer/accountant.
• I'll try anything once.
• Of course, bring the kids.
• Why don't you stay for dinner?
• If worst comes to worst, you can use mine.
• Don't worry there's more where that came from.
• Over my dead body, you will!

An elderly woman was standing in the checkout line ready to pay for her merchandise: a quart of milk and a loaf of bread. She opened her purse. No money was there; neither was her checkbook. As she was about to ask the clerk to put her things back, suddenly a gentle voice said, “It looks like that is your lunch.” A gentleman was standing right behind her, smiling. “Don’t worry,” he continued. “Today I want to treat you. Take your things with you.” Then the man paid for her merchandise and his own. A week passed by, and the woman came back to the store. The checker knew about the incident and recognized her. She approached the woman and whispered, “Ma’am, maybe you’d be interested to know. That gentleman’s check—it bounced!”

William Hinson, senior minister of First United Methodist Church in Houston, tells about the experience of his brother-in-law Miles when he was a boy taking piano lessons. Trained to locate middle "C" just beside the "W" on the family's Wurlitzer piano, he managed to learn one piece well enough to be included in the usual student recital. The evening of the recital, he strode confidently onto the stage, seated himself at the piano, then froze in horror. The piano was a Yamaha!

This is a metaphorical picture of where most people find themselves today. Familiar guidelines have given way to unfamiliar ones. Nothing seems to be what it was. The great cultural shift occurring in the world at large seriously affects the thinking of people in the most guarded citadels of faith and learning. Eventually it must overpower even the strongholds of conservatism and fundamentalism.

Once the astronomers' telescopes were refined enough to discern what was really happening in the heavens, all the dogma in the world could not reverse the inevitable conclusion that the earth danced around the sun with the other planets, not the sun around the earth. There is always a time-lag for the absorbing of truth, and the more conservative the institution, the greater the delay; but truth will eventually work its way over, through, and around all barriers. Meanwhile, everybody is affected, albeit in varying degrees, by the changes being felt. We are all uneasy to find ourselves sitting at a Yamaha when all we've ever known is Wurlitzer.

H.H. Staton in his book, "A Guide To the Parables of Jesus" tells the story of having been on an ocean liner headed to the Middle East.

Nine hundred miles out to sea a sail was sighted on the horizon. As the liner drew closer, the passengers saw that the boat - a small sloop flying a Turkish flag - had run up a distress signal and other flags asking for its position at sea. Through a faulty chronometer or immature navigation the small vessel had become lost. For nearly an hour the liner circled the little boat, giving its crew correct latitude and longitude. Naturally there was a great deal of interest in all the proceeding among the passengers of the liner. A 12 year-old-boy remarked aloud to himself - "It's a big ocean to be lost in."

It is a big universe to be lost in too. And we do get lost - we get mixed up and turned around. We despair, we make mistakes, we do evil to each other. We deserve the wrath of God and that is what the Pharisees who criticized Jesus maintained. But Jesus understood God more. He knew God as a Shepherd in search of the one lost sheep. He knew God as a woman searching in the dark, in the crevasses, for that valuable coin. In the end it was Jesus' view of God which prevailed and not his critics.

Our time of tears throughout Lent has come to a happy ending with tears of joy over the Resurrection. A father took his little boy to a pet shop to pick out a puppy for his birthday present. For half an hour he looked at the assortment in the window. "Decided which one you want?" asked his Daddy. "Yes," the little fellow replied, pointing to one which was enthusiastically wagging his tail. "I want the one with the happy ending." For all the tears of sorrow, disappointment, and tragedy of Lent, Easter is a Happy Ending to this season. Christ's glorious resurrection has turned them into tears of joy. Tears on Easter? Yes, tears of a happy ending to sorrow, death, and tragedy. Now we can say "HAPPY EASTER" and really mean it!

A couple, visiting in Korea, saw a father and his son working in a rice paddy. The old man guided the heavy plow as the boy pulled it.

"I guess they must be very poor," the man said to the missionary who was the couple's guide and interpreter.

"Yes," replied the missionary. "That's the family of Chi Nevi. When the church was built, they were eager to give something to it, but they had no money. So they sold their ox and gave the money to the church. This spring they are pulling the plow themselves."

After a long silence, the woman said, "That was a real sacrifice." The missionary responded, "They do not call it a sacrifice. They are just thankful they had an ox to sell."

There were three mice who died and went to heaven. After a couple of days, St. Peter stopped by and asked them how they liked being in heaven. The mice said that it was OK, but since they have such short legs, it was hard for them to get around because heaven was so big. So St. Peter told them that he thought he would be able to help them. After a little while, an angel came to the mice and gave each of them a set of roller skates. Right away, the mice put the roller skates on, and they could zip around heaven, really enjoy themselves.

A little later, a certain cat died and went to heaven. After a couple of days, St. Peter stopped by and asked the cat how he liked being in heaven.

The cat answered by saying, "Oh, boy, do I like being in heaven! I'm having a great time and I'm really enjoying myself. And most of all, I love those meals on wheels."

Another set of "money-changers" in the church seem to have lost their reason for forgiveness. Catholic priests have expressed concern over the sharp decline in the number of people desiring to take confession. We hear a lot of talk about the word celebration in our church today. There can be no celebration until there is first confession. In the parable of the prodigal son, the banquet does not occur until the boy had first come to himself.

A Sunday School class in a church once made an unusual request one day. They requested that the prayer of confession be taken out of the order of worship. They gave the following reasons:

1. Confessions imply that we are bad people.
2. Our children will get a negative image of themselves.
3. Guilt is damaging; we need to think positively.
4. Worship should always be uplifting and make us feel good.

This sounds like the philosophy advocated by that book some years ago "I'm OK you're OK." Tell me then. If I'm OK and you're OK then what are we doing here? The refusal to acknowledge that we are sinful people is damaging the church today, and it is damage that is coming from within, not from without. We have bought in to the modern culture that we should have a positive self-image through positive thinking. Friends, sin is real, and it is too destructive to ignore. The cross reminds us just how serious our sin is. The failure to express our sin before God and one another devalues God's redemptive grace. It is not positive thinking that will remove our guilt; it is God's redemptive action.

In the opera Faust, there is a fight to the finish between Satan and the young man Valentine. During the course of the fight, Satan breaks Valentine's sword and he stands poised to slay him. But the young boy takes the two pieces of his sword and fashions them into a cross. Confronted with this symbol of faith, Satan becomes immobilized and Valentine is saved.

It is an interesting concept: A dramatic demonstration of faith. Unfortunately such resolution of faith does not always save you. In fact, it might be your deathbed. It was John's. Take a look at the story with me. John has been arrested by King Herod. And why? Because John kept reminding Herod that even the king is not above the law. He said, "It is not lawful for you to have your brother's wife."

So this was the king's egregious sin. He had stolen his brother's wife, Herodias. Now, it would be understandable if this were where the story ended. The king didn't like a desert preacher calling him a sinner so he had him beheaded. Simple enough. But life is not always simple. There is usually more to a story than meets the eye. And in this case we learn that Herod actually liked to listen to John, thought he was a holy man, and protected him. Perhaps, in Herod's mind, putting him under lock and key was a way of removing him from harms way.

So if the king was offended by John's outbursts, it was not enough to warrant death. The king feared the prophet and dared not harm him. But life has a funny way of pressuring us to do things we would not normally do. This is a story about a man who caved due to social pressures. Let me ask you: How do life's pressures affect your judgment? What can we learn form this deplorable moment in the life of this king, this moment when the king caved? We learn that...

1. Puzzling problems require conscientious decisions
2. Promises made in haste create great waste
3. Pressures in life can affect good judgment

The renown teacher and author Dr. David McLennon tells a story of his very first job in a small town general store. This was the day before mails and supermarket chains at least it was in his community. At age thirteen he was hired as a handy boy. He would sweep the flour, bag items for customers, put up stock. On one particular Saturday, he recalled, he heard the owner say to one of the clerks "It's that time of the year again, it's time to take inventory." Dr. McLennon wrote that this was a word that had not yet entered into his vocabulary. When an opportune moment arrived, he went up to the kindly older man and asked, Sir, what is an inventory? Patiently the owner explained that it was a time when you made a list of everything that you had from groceries on the shelves to wrapping paper and string. Still somewhat puzzled, the young McLennon then asked, Why?

"Well," responded the owner, "it's easy to forget exactly how much you have each year. Every now and then you have to take an inventory just to see what all you have."

That little story, to me, pretty well sums up what Thanksgiving is all about. It is a time when each of us needs to ask ourselves the question: Have I taken inventory of my life lately? Have I made an effort to count all the things that I do have in life instead of complaining about the things that I don't have. It is a good exercise especially when we are of a mind to brood or whine in self pity. Have you taken inventory lately?

What I am suggesting here is not some shallow "count your blessings" platitude. But from time to time, in a genuine kind of a way, we need to sit down and do some talking to ourselves about all of the gifts and opportunities and challenges that God has given each one of us. Perhaps there is a deep underlying wisdom in the children's poem that says: "Count your blessings one by one, and you might be surprised what the Lord has done."