Forgiveness Part I
Forgiveness Part II
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Friday, January 25, 2013
Thursday, January 24, 2013
Sunday, January 13, 2013
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Carl
Carl was a quiet man. He didn't talk much. He would always
greet you with a big smile and a firm handshake. Even after living in our
neighborhood for over 50 years, no one could really say they knew him very
well. Before his retirement, he took the bus to work each morning. The lone
sight of him walking down the street often worried us. He had a slight limp
from a bullet wound received in WWII. Watching him, we worried that although he
had survived WWII, he may not make it through our changing uptown neighborhood
with its ever-increasing random violence, gangs, and drug activity. When he saw
the flyer at our local church asking for volunteers for caring for the gardens
behind the minister's residence, he responded in his characteristically unassuming
manner. Without fanfare, he just signed up. He was well into his 87th year when
the very thing we had always feared finally happened. He was just finishing his
watering for the day when three gang members approached him. Ignoring their
attempt to intimidate him, he simply asked, "Would you like a drink from
the hose?"
The tallest and toughest-looking of the three said,
"Yeah, sure," with a malevolent little smile.
As Carl offered the hose to him, the other two grabbed
Carl's arm, throwing him down. As the hose snaked crazily over the ground,
dousing everything in its way, Carl's assailants stole his retirement watch and
his wallet, and then fled. Carl tried to get himself up, but he had been thrown
down on his bad leg. He lay there trying to gather himself as the minister came
running to help him. Although the minister had witnessed the attack from his
window, he couldn't get there fast enough to stop it.
"Carl, are you okay? Are you hurt?" the minister
kept asking as he helped Carl to his feet.
Carl just passed a hand over his brow and sighed, shaking
his head. "Just some punk kids. I hope they'll wise-up someday."
His wet clothes clung to his slight frame as he bent to pick
up the hose. He adjusted the nozzle again and started to water.
Confused and a little concerned, the minister asked,
"Carl, what are you doing?"
"I've got to finish my watering. It's been very dry
lately," came the calm reply. Satisfying himself that Carl really was all
right, the minister could only marvel. Carl was a man from a different time and
place. A few weeks later the three returned. Just as before their threat was
unchallenged. Carl again offered them a drink from his hose. This time they
didn't rob him. They wrenched the hose from his hand and drenched him head to
foot in the icy water. When they had finished their humiliation of him, they
sauntered off down the street, throwing catcalls and curses, falling over one
another laughing at the hilarity of what they had just done. Carl just watched
them. Then he turned toward the warmth giving sun, picked up his hose, and went
on with his watering. The summer was quickly fading into fall Carl was doing
some tilling when he was startled by the sudden approach of someone behind him.
He stumbled and fell into some evergreen branches. As he struggled to regain
his footing, he turned to see the tall leader of his summer tormentors reaching
down for him. He braced himself for the expected attack. "Don't worry old
man, I'm not gonna hurt you this time." The young man spoke softly, still
offering the tattooed and scarred hand to Carl. As he helped Carl get up, the
man pulled a crumpled bag from his pocket and handed it to Carl.
"What's this?" Carl asked. "It's your
stuff," the man explained. "It's your stuff back. Even the money in
your wallet." "I don't understand," Carl said. "Why would
you help me now?"
The man shifted his feet, seeming embarrassed and ill at
ease. "I learned something from you," he said. "I ran with that
gang and hurt people like you. We picked you because you were old and we knew
we could do it but every time we came and did something to you, instead of
yelling and fighting back, you tried to give us a drink. You didn't hate us for hating you. You kept showing
love against our hate." He stopped for a moment. "I couldn't sleep
after we stole your stuff, so here it is back." He paused for another
awkward moment, not knowing what more there was to say. "That bag's my way
of saying thanks for straightening me out, I guess." And with that, he
walked off down the street.
Carl looked down at the sack in his hands and gingerly
opened it. He took out his retirement watch and put it back on his wrist.
Opening his wallet, he checked for his wedding photo. He gazed for a moment at
the young bride that still smiled back at him from all those years ago.
He died one cold day after Christmas that winter. Many
people attended his funeral in spite of the weather. In particular the minister
noticed a tall young man that he didn't know sitting quietly in a distant
corner of the church.
The minister spoke of Carl's garden as a lesson in life. In
a voice made thick with unshed tears, he said, "Do your best and make your
garden as beautiful as you can. We will never forget Carl and his garden."
The following spring another flyer went up. It read:
"Person needed to care for Carl's garden." The flyer went unnoticed
by the busy parishioners until one day when a knock was heard at the minister's
office door. Opening the door, the minister saw a pair of scarred and tattooed
hands holding the flyer. "I believe this is my job, if you'll have
me," the young man said.
The minister recognized him as the same young man who had
returned the stolen watch and wallet to Carl. He knew that Carl's kindness had
turned this man's life around. As the minister handed him the keys to the
garden shed, he said, "Yes, go take care of Carl's garden and honor
him."
The man went to work and, over the next several years, he
tended the flowers and vegetables just as Carl had done. During that time, he
went to college, got married, and became a prominent member of the community.
But he never forgot his promise to Carl's memory and kept the garden as
beautiful as he thought Carl would have kept it.
One day he approached the new minister and told him that he
couldn't care for the garden any longer. He explained with a shy and happy
smile, "My wife just had a baby boy last night, and she's bringing him
home on Saturday."
"Well, congratulations!" said the minister, as he
was handed the garden shed keys. "That's wonderful! What's the baby's
name?"
"Carl," he replied.
That's the whole gospel message simply stated.
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Thanks For The Time!
A young man
learns something
that's important in life from the guy next door.Over the phone, his mother told him, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday." Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly remembering his childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh, sorry, Mom. Yes, I heard you. It's been so long since I thought of him. I'm sorry, but I honestly thought he died years ago," Jack said...
"Well, he didn't forget you. Every time I saw him he'd ask how you were doing. He'd reminisce about the many days you spent over 'his side of the fence' as he put it," Mom told him.
"I loved that old house he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser stepped in to make sure you had a man's influence in your life," she said.
"He's the one who taught me carpentry," he said. "I wouldn't be in this business if it weren't for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were important. Mom, I'll be there for the funeral," Jack said.
As busy as he was, he kept his word. Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belser's funeral was small and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives had passed away.
The night before he had to return home, Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more time.
Standing in the doorway, Jack paused for a moment. It was like crossing over into another dimension, a leap through space and time The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories. Every picture, every piece of furniture. Jack stopped suddenly...
"What's wrong, Jack?" his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he said
"What box?" Mom asked.
"There was a small gold box that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand times what was inside. All he'd ever tell me was 'the thing I value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything about the house was exactly how Jack remembered it, except for the box. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it.
"Now I'll never know what was so valuable to him," Jack said. "I better get some sleep. I have an early flight home, Mom."
It had been about two weeks since Mr. Belser died. Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox. "Signature required on a package. No one at home. Please stop by the main post office within the next three days," the note read. Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. The small box was old and looked like it had been mailed a hundred years ago. The handwriting was difficult to read, but the return address caught his attention. "Mr. HaroldBelser" it read. Jack took the box out to his car and ripped open the package. There inside was the gold box and an envelope. Jack's hands shook as he read the note inside.
"Upon my death, please forward this box and its contents to Jack Bennett. It's the thing I valued most in my life." A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his eyes, Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful gold pocket watch.
Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your time! -HaroldBelser."
"The thing he valued most was... my time"
Jack held the watch for a few minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next two days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my son," he said.
"Oh, by the way, Janet, thanks for your time!"
Think about this. You may not realize it, but it's 100% true.
1. At least 15 people in this world love you in some way..
2 A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.
3 Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.
4.. You mean the world to someone.
5. If not for you, someone may not be living.
6. You are special and unique.
7. When you think you have no chance of getting what you want, you probably won't get it, but if you trust God to do what's best, and wait on His time, sooner or later, you will get it or something better.
8. When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good can still come from it.
9. When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world.
10. Someone that you don't even know exists loves you.
11.. Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.
12 . Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know and you'll both be happy .
13. If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
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Don't Jack With This Lady!