Jesus hand is on your head

 

If you are hurting think of yourself as the Fawn and the little girl with her hands on your hand,as Jesus

It's Sunday but Monday is Coming

Whether the Sunday morning church service confronts us strongly, or soaks us in Jesus' love, or even if it is mostly a time of pleasant healing of our wounded spirits, it is still about Monday. "Monday" means the rest of the week. "Monday" means Kingdom building, that is "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done--on earth as it is in heaven." Sunday is getting us revived for Monday, and our lives of making the world a better place. Jesus' mission statement is those words from the beginning of The Lord's Prayer. His mission, and ours, is to bring the beauty, justice, healing, hopefulness, goodness, and love, heaven has perfectly, into this earthly domain. That is what we are here for, not to just wait for heaven. Sunday worship,rest and recreation is about God's intention for humanity that we are partners in creating. It is Sunday but Monday is coming!

This is Good. This is Goodness.

Phil Mickelson --- Great Golfer. Outstanding Human Being.

For the past few days, while I tried to enjoy one of the greatest golf tournaments in the world, all I was entertained with was the Tiger Woods show. As soon as one golfer would hit a tee shot or make a putt, it seemed that the next view would be that of Tiger Woods. Tiger Woods just missing a putt that would have put him in contention with the other golfers. Tiger Woods hooking his drive which showed how his time off had hurt his game. Tiger Woods trying to “respect” the game. How it seemed that the Tiger was able to put his past transgressions behind him and was able to concentrate on the job at hand. It just kept going on and on about Tiger this and Tiger that.

On the other hand, a little miracle was occurring at the Masters; one golfer just kept smiling. He smiled if he made a good drive, or if he made a bad drive. He smiled if he made a 50 foot putt or missed a 5 foot putt. As he walked between holes, he smiled and shook hands with the crowd. He never cursed a bad stoke or blamed another person for a miss. All he did was smile.

Why would Phil Mickelson be smiling? Here was a man whose wife has breast cancer. Here was a man whose mother has breast cancer. Here is a man who rather than allow his wife and mother to fight this battle by themselves, took time off from the PGA tour to be with them. Here was a man that returned to the game he loved when his wife ordered him to. Here was man, who was so glad for the miracle that was happening as his wife moved closer to a cure, that he rewarded her oncologist by allowing him to be his guest caddy at last week’s golf tournament. This move, which could have cost Mickelson thousands of dollars in purse money, was his gift to a man he knew he could never thank enough for what he had given to him.

During the last round today, Phil’s wife was staying in their hotel room since she was still weak from the chemo treatments she is receiving. Phil did not know as he walked up to the 18th tee that his wife would be there. All Phil did was smile. He smiled to the crowds, he smiled to the TV audience, he smiled to God. After his last putt found the bottom of the hole, he hugged his caddy and others and walked to the scorer’s shack. He then gave the biggest smile of the whole four days. He saw his wife, and even in the midst of thousands of people, it seemed that only two where there.

Tomorrow I am going to smile. I am going to smile if it is nice weather or bad. I am going to smile at the driver who honks his horn at me, or the driver who cuts me off. I am going to smile if I get the order or not. And when the day is done, I am going to save my biggest smile for the person who makes me complete. Then I am going to look to the heavens and give thanks for being able to smile.

Thanks Phil! God bless you and your family.

Katie Kok--Clarksville, Michigan

I sent the picture Of Katie Kok and The Fawn to a friend of mine who is going through a lot of physical pain and distress. He is waiting for surgery and his condition is delicate. I suggested he think of himself as The Fawn and the little girl with her hand on his head, as Jesus.

How I Met My Wife

You know I met Linda when she was horseback riding. I actually probably saved her life. The horse was bucking like crazy and she was screaming for help. So I ran over and pulled the plug out.

"Just Walk with Me"

I have a problem. I want to tell you about it. No, I really don't. I'd rather keep it to myself; handle it alone. I do think it would be good for me to share it with you though, I don't want to because I'm afraid of what you'll say or how you'll act.

I'm afraid you might feel sorry for me in a way that makes me feel pathetic. Like I'm some "poor thing."

I'm afraid you will try to cheer me up. That you will give me words or texts or prayers that tell me in a subtle way to stop feeling badly. If you do that I'll feel worse (but hide it behind my agreeable, cheerful-looking smile), while thinking you don't understand. I'll feel you are making light of my problem, if it can be brushed away with some brief words of cheer.

I'm afraid you'll give me an answer. I’m afraid this problem I've been wrestling with for some time now, and about which I have thought endless thoughts, will be belittled. I’m afraid you can answer in a half-minute what I've struggled with for weeks?

I'm afraid also you might ignore my problem, talk quickly about other things, tell me of your own concerns.
I'm afraid too you might see me stronger than I am; that I don’t need you to listen and care. (It's true I can get along by myself, but I shouldn't.live that way).

What I would really like is if you "just walk with me". Listen as I begin in some blundering, clumsy way to break through my fearfulness of being exposed as weak and needy. Hold my hand and pull me gently as I falter and begin to draw back. Say a word, make a motion, or a sentence that says, "I'm with you." If you've been where I am, tell me, briefly, how you felt in a way that I can know you're trying to walk with me—not change me. Just “walk with me”.

But I'm afraid...
You will ask me, "What are you going to do about it?" I’m afraid you will explain, interpret, analyze or teach.

Please “just walk with me”. That takes love. God will do the fixing.