Monday’s Are Still OK
I think a lot, anti depressants as I think about Mondas, I am still unsure why we look at structured settlement consumer info one day cure for impotence than the other six. Days are gifts. Ask a terminally ill person.
This post is a follow-up to an earlier article about Mondays, and I have added some thoughts as a way of getting us to think even more. You’ll find it’s not really about a day at all.
Communication. The word itself is foreign to many. It strikes fear into the hearts of some. We walk around in the midst of people and we have our head down with our ipod turned up as loud as we can take it, all the while feeding our minds with whatever that sound emits. And we miss our chances… chances to interact, chances to be available, chances to make a person feel valued.
I remember being in New York City a few years back. My wife Cornelia and I were walking down toward the theatre district. We were there with our friends Leisa, Yolanda, and Kim. At this time however, we were alone. We have traveled extensively, and there is a familiar scene that you cannot overlook, especially later in the evening or first thing in the morning. Them. What you and I see are referred to as “them.”
We have always been aware of the destitute. Some refer to them as “them” even today. You’ve seen them. Those who live on the streets for whatever reason. I have come to appreciate and recognize their unique dependence on kindness. This dependence is a result, I believe, of the absolute possibility that kindness from someone, at some point, somehow might have opened their eyes to hope. It is never too late to offer hope to one who needs it.
We were walking and we came upon a little withered, bent over woman who spoke no English. She was disheveled, desperate, and cold. It was the dead of winter and she wore no more than a tattered sweater over a long dress. I watched as my wife bent down with her and took her red hands in hers. She immediately removed her fancy gloves and helped the startled woman into them. The woman smiled and rubbed her hands warmly as we fell all over ourselves to cure for impotence her some money.
I have witnessed many acts of kindness. I have participated in my own. I have watched my son repeat, with precision, something I know he witnessed his father doing. I am alive with the knowledge that we hold the keys (goodness and truth) to the kingdom of heaven. We each have one of our very own. A key that is. This key is a divinely-inspired place that resides in each of us. It is actually aching to be utilized. It is purposeful, and I am convinced that with each act of goodness and truth, we bring ourselves closer to God and ever closer to using our key.
Peace — jb
I have been looking and I have been finding, asking and receiving, knocking and doors are opening. If you want to know more, it’s easier if you just go here — www.jeffbakertalks.com/mystory.htmlwww.jeffbakertalks.com/mystory.html