DailyConnections.net

TUESDAY THOUGHT 6/30/09

FRIDAY THOUGHT 6/26/09

Sliced, diced and pickled
 
Well, boys and girls, when we left our hero Peter (aka Simon), he was about to make yet another rash, brash, poorly-thought-out promise to Jesus:  “Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death.” (Luke 22:33).  But just before that, Jesus made it clear that the devil was going to play a lively game of  kick-the-can with Peter … with Peter as the can.
 
BUT (aha, here’s the BUT!), after that, when all was said and done, Peter was going to be stronger, better, ready to quit playing tag-along boon companion to his friend, the itinerant preacher, and step in and take charge of Jesus’s surviving ragtag band of less-than-perfect followers.
 
My point:  God challenges us, winnows us, sifts us (picture that process for a moment, if you will), tests us, tempers us and, yes, lets us fail horribly.  BUT from the bruised and battered soul-core remains, some pretty amazing stuff emerges.  Trust in God.  He really does know what He is doing. — jri 
 
“Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift
you as wheat.  But I have prayed for you,
Simon, that your faith may not fail.  And
when you have turned back, strengthen
your brothers.”
        –    Jesus Christ
               (Luke 22: 31-32)

THURSDAY THOUGHT 6/25/09

Love God?
 
This one has always puzzled me.  I mean, yes, I believe in God (His awe, splendor and power), I trust in Him (the idea that He knows what He is doing and He really cares about the final score), and I definitely need Him (as, the older I get, I recognize that nothing that truly matters is in my hands).  But the love part?  I don’t know.
 
But then I realized recently what I’ve always told my children:  Love is a verb!  It’s not some squishy, warm ‘n fuzzy, doe-eyed feeling.  It’s doing the right thing, even when it’s the last thing you want to do.  It’s dedication or — in my opinion, the ultimate compliment — steadiness.  It’s putting your sword back in its sheath when you’d rather lop the head off some annoying person and, instead, seeing the pain and frustration that makes that person annoying.
 
My point:  I guess it’s really not all that complicated, that we love God by loving, forgiving, and sharing with our neighbor (oh, yeah, I remember hearing about that one) and by following the example that Christ gave us.  So, thank you, God.  Love ya. — jri
 
“But I am among you as one who
serves.”
        –    Jesus Christ
               (Luke 22:27)

MONDAY THOUGHT 6/22/09

Hope
 
Sometimes life just hurts … and hurts like hell.  And, no, God doesn’t swoop in like Batman to save the day.  I wish He did.  A man I know, in his 50s, is in the final stages of cancer.  Another I know of, in his 30s, died of a heart attack without warning, and the pain I saw in his mother’s eyes the other day will haunt me for a long time.  I also learned last week of a boy of 19 who was diagnosed with cancer.  Plus, like all of us, I see a growing number of people who are out of work and  living with an ice-cold ball of terror in their gut as bills pile up, mortgages go unpaid.  Lots of desperate people.  
 
Something brilliant should be inserted here, but I can’t think of what it should be  Sorry.  Sometimes it just makes no sense.  There are times when faith has nothing to do with proof or answered prayers … but just faith.  There are times when you can pray — Lord, please, please, please — ’til the cows come home … and they don’t come home.  But God has something else in mind.  This I do believe.  No, this I do know.  (Oh, and, no, I cannot prove it to you, which is kind of the point.) 
 
More to the point:  The only thing I know about God is that, yes, He is here … right here.  I’m not going to say “There, there, it’s all for the best” or whistle the final song from the movie, Life of Brian (“Look on the Bright Side of Life”).  In fact, the only prayer I know at these times is, “Lord, have mercy.”  Joyful?  No.  Comforting?  Not likely.   Just rocky, shaky, stumblingly, faithfully pure hope … without the slightest bit of proof.  — jri
 
“But hope that is seen is no hope at
all.  Who hopes for what he already
has?  But if we hope for what we do
not yet have, we wait for it patiently.
In the same way, the Spirit helps us in
our weakness.  We do not know what
we ought to pray for, but the Spirit
himself intercedes for us with groans
that words cannot express.”
    –    St. Paul
           (Romans 8:24-26)
 
Thank you for letting me into your lives today.  Please pray for all who suffer from anxiety due to loss and illness.  Also, if you would, please kick in a prayer for a special intention for me. Thank you and may God bless you and fill your heart with hope, faith and joy.
John Ingrisano
DailyConnections
204 Lakeview Drive
Algoma, WI 54201
(920) 559-3722

THURSDAY THOUGHT 6/18/09

MONDAY THOUGHT 6/15/09

WEDNESDAY THOUGHT 6/10/09

MONDAY THOUGHT 6/8/09

Your Greatest Power

The Serenity Prayer
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.

One of the most valuable lessons I have learned as the years have gone by is the futility of being concerned about things over which I have no control. And if it is true that the best definition of wisdom is ‘knowledge rightly applied,’ I’ve gained wisdom in that I now concentrate only on things over which I have at least some modicum of control.
• I can’t stop the inconsiderate person who thoughtlessly throws a wadded up paper towel on the floor of the men’s room for someone else to pick up; but I can pick it up myself and toss it in the waste basket
• I can’t make young people use their turn signals or old people turn their turn signals off; but I can drive carefully and courteously myself
• I can’t stop the DOW Jones Industrial Average from dropping like a rock; but I can be careful about my spending habits and prepare an annual financial plan to make sure that we’re doing the best we can with the funds that we’ve worked so hard to accumulate
• I can’t run the government; but I can respect the President and elected officials currently in power at any given time whether I voted for them or not
• I can’t stop racism or sexism or any other type of ‘ism’; but I can appreciate all cultures and show respect for all people regardless of gender or skin color
• I can’t stop the aging process; but I can continue to learn and love and laugh and cry and work and play with great vigor and enthusiasm
• I can’t prevent people from losing their jobs and facing difficult times; but I can be a friend when it happens to someone by being an encourager
• I can’t be twenty-five again; but I can share (when asked) my experiences, both victories and defeats, in the hopes of making the road a little smoother for younger people who have years and miles ahead of them
• I can’t stop negative people from being negative; but I can choose to avoid them when possible and attempt to be a beacon of light during times of darkness
• I can’t slow down the changes in technology that come at us with warp speed; but I can accept, respect and learn how to use the tools that help us learn, allow us to communicate with the world and provide entertainment
• I can’t control the world (nor do I want to); but I can prevent the world from controlling me by taking responsibility for my actions and becoming a life-long learner
And you? Well, you can make you own list of what you can and cannot control. It’s a truly liberating experience!

Bill Sheridan    Sheridan Writes, LLC     www.sheridanwrites.com

Becoming the Dad I Didn’t Have

Note: This essay was first published in the Des Moines Sunday Register on Father’s Day 2007 (Bill Sheridan, Guest Author)

My viewpoint of Father’s Day began to change on April 1, 1966 when the first of our three sons, Ed, was born. We named him after my father who, for reasons we will never know, ended his own life several months before my eighth birthday.

I grew up the fifth of six children in a single-parent home in the small town of Lawler in northeast Iowa, secretly envying my friends who had a dad. I longed to have a father to play catch with, cheer me on a Little League games, teach me to fish or hunt and attend the myriad of father-son events that occur from first grade through high school graduation. Those were the hardest—I always had to have an uncle or family friend accompany me.

I never liked Father’s Day. The priest, year after year, gave the same sermon about how great dads are and how we should be grateful and honor them. To that end, I built up a personal mythology about how great my dad would have been, even though, in truth, I had very few memories of him. No real father could have lived up to the image of the one I had created in my childhood of fantasies.

When I became a dad as a twenty-one year old young man, things began to change. Three wonderful gifts were given to me in the years that followed, filling that empty hole in my life in the form of our three sons: Ed, Tom and Greg.

From the moment of their respective births to this very day, little by little, I have been able to put that sense of loss behind me and relish the joy of being the father that I didn’t have. In the process of loving each of them and watching them grow into terrific young men, I’ve found it in my heart to forgive Dad for abandoning my mom, my siblings and me by committing suicide.

Attending ball games, band concerts, weddings and various celebrations with my sons is a privilege that I’ve never taken for granted. I cheered as they achieved various academic and professional goals. I cried as each took the inevitable tumbles that life brings along. I made up my mind very early that they would always know that they are loved by their dad—not for what they did or did not do—but for just being.

It was not always easy to know exactly what to do as a father; I didn’t have a role model so undoubtedly made mistakes along the way. Instinctively, however, I somehow understood that the most important thing I could ever give them was my time, understanding, encouragement and moral support.

So Father’s Day now has a different and joyful meaning for me. I am living proof that healing and forgiveness can occur for those of who have lost a father through death, divorce or abandonment. That healing for me began the first time that I became the dad I didn’t have.

Bill Sheridan 
Sheridan Writes, LLC
www.sheridanwrites.com

FRIDAY THOUGHT 6/5/09

THURSDAY THOUGHT 6/4/09