Showing posts with label Regrets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Regrets. Show all posts
Monday, 28 September 2015
Thursday, 20 August 2015
Tomorrow Today
by Lynette Love
"Heartbreaks and Joys
" "Jesus," I ask, "What was the hardest thing that You had to endure while you were on this earth?"
"Before I answer you my Child, I have another question for you to ask - What was one of my greatest joys?"
"Yes, I will ask you that question, but still, what was the hardest thing you had to endure?"
"My child, it was when I was hanging on the cross and I could no longer see My Father, My Heart broke; now My precious little one, ask Me My question."
"My Lord, what was Your greatest joy?"
"When I hung on the cross and saw you my child!" "
Tomorrow Today is a series of excerpts from books by Lynette Love, who regularly encounters heaven - and Jesus - and Holy Spirit - and Father - now, in this life, today.
My prayer is that you also might experience Him, and that in your own daily walk you might hear His voice, and see His face, and know His love - now, in this life, today.
Lynette's books and e-books are all available on Amazon.com
© Lynette Love, used by permission.
"Heartbreaks and Joys
" "Jesus," I ask, "What was the hardest thing that You had to endure while you were on this earth?"
 |
| Encounters with the King |
"Yes, I will ask you that question, but still, what was the hardest thing you had to endure?"
"My child, it was when I was hanging on the cross and I could no longer see My Father, My Heart broke; now My precious little one, ask Me My question."
"My Lord, what was Your greatest joy?"
"When I hung on the cross and saw you my child!" "
Tomorrow Today is a series of excerpts from books by Lynette Love, who regularly encounters heaven - and Jesus - and Holy Spirit - and Father - now, in this life, today.
My prayer is that you also might experience Him, and that in your own daily walk you might hear His voice, and see His face, and know His love - now, in this life, today.
Lynette's books and e-books are all available on Amazon.com
© Lynette Love, used by permission.
Monday, 27 October 2014
Quips & Quotes
Maria Robinson: Nobody can go back and start a new beginning, but anyone can start today and make a new ending.
Monday, 9 June 2014
Monday, 10 February 2014
Quips & Quotes
Anonymous: One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it is worth watching.
Wednesday, 1 January 2014
My World
(discovered on Tennyson St, Napier).
Happy New Year to all my friends J
Happy New Year to all my friends J
A 5x-weekly photograph from around Hawke's Bay J
Thursday, 31 October 2013
God I love temptation
God I love temptation....
It's like being at a lolly counter and the shopkeeper's been called away for just a minute. It's like the tantalising whiff of freshly-baked cookies. Better than the bash of endorphins after playing sport or a never-ending caffeine high. Like driving down a country road at 160km/h and wondering if you can slow down fast enough to get around the rapidly approaching corner. Or standing on the edge of a cliff knowing one rogue bluster of wind and it's all over. It's the thrill of being strapped into a rollercoaster looking down at the 50m drop ahead, and knowing you can't get off....
It's the one-off high and the freedom of a night on the town, leaving the cares of the world behind, just enjoying the moment. Like taking refuge in a fantasy where all is rosy and people actually like you. Where you can laugh at your fears and forget the reality of your own constant companion called Pain....
It's ignoring the mandatory hangover and repressing the regrets. It's forgetting the busted relationships and hoping that someday you might undo the harm, torturing yourself with unanswerable what-ifs. It's wishing you'd never been born and trying to cope with the self-inflicted war wounds. It's the inner torment, wondering if or when you'll get caught. It's the eternal hope that one day you might fill the emptiness and stem the loss, while hating yourself for crawling back to your chosen substitute, night after night after night....
God I hate temptation....
It's like being at a lolly counter and the shopkeeper's been called away for just a minute. It's like the tantalising whiff of freshly-baked cookies. Better than the bash of endorphins after playing sport or a never-ending caffeine high. Like driving down a country road at 160km/h and wondering if you can slow down fast enough to get around the rapidly approaching corner. Or standing on the edge of a cliff knowing one rogue bluster of wind and it's all over. It's the thrill of being strapped into a rollercoaster looking down at the 50m drop ahead, and knowing you can't get off....
It's the one-off high and the freedom of a night on the town, leaving the cares of the world behind, just enjoying the moment. Like taking refuge in a fantasy where all is rosy and people actually like you. Where you can laugh at your fears and forget the reality of your own constant companion called Pain....
It's ignoring the mandatory hangover and repressing the regrets. It's forgetting the busted relationships and hoping that someday you might undo the harm, torturing yourself with unanswerable what-ifs. It's wishing you'd never been born and trying to cope with the self-inflicted war wounds. It's the inner torment, wondering if or when you'll get caught. It's the eternal hope that one day you might fill the emptiness and stem the loss, while hating yourself for crawling back to your chosen substitute, night after night after night....
God I hate temptation....
Monday, 12 August 2013
Saturday, 27 October 2012
Go on, I dare you...
What is it about this crazy, introverted, risk-averse society in which we live, that we've been sucked into the philosophy of protecting ourselves against any risk that "might" happen?
Where has the courage gone? Why are we so afraid? What's happened to all the fun? What are we turning into?
Our nation was founded on the actions of risk-takers, men and women who wouldn't say die. They made decisions, they ignored the doomsayers and they succeeded against all odds. And we're all so proud of Sir Edmund Hillary for conquering Mt Everest, unlike so many who'd previously died in the attempt.
The world would be a sadder place if we didn't have our heroes - those who accomplish, and those who put themselves into danger to save another person's life - and yet we discourage our kids from getting hurt... in the playground... Um, where else can kids learn bravery?
In their heart of hearts, people were designed for risk and thrill - why else would they frequent the theme parks and roller coasters and the high ropes in Taupo? How else can you explain a 47 year-old going down a flying fox upside down? (Oh yeah, there were girls present...)
And sure, OSH has its place, and work-places should be safe, but do we really need a company notice to use the hand-rail on the stairs? I know, they put it up because someone slipped and got hurt. But shouldn't they be just as concerned that, in reading the notice, we might become distracted and miss our footing? Maybe they should put up another company notice:
There will always be decisions to make, forks in the road. There will always be consequences. My advice to my kids as they chose their study options for university was pretty simple:
So here's a thought: Faith is a belief in a certain outcome, but so is fear. It's up to me which one I choose to meditate on, which road I choose to go down. And though I can't control the future, I can influence it...
And when I get a few years down the road and circumstances turn to custard, it's my choice whether or not I compare this road's custard to what "might" have happened had I chosen the other road. Frankly, I can't afford to live with blame and regret.
We must take risks! I have...
No, I'm not talking about the time I was out on my motorbike looking for a bump to jump, and came across a railway crossing, didn't really see the Stop sign, and landed on the main road out of town, with cars coming at me from both sides...
And nor am I promoting the type of risk when I leapt into the Manawatu River from just below the height of the road. (Given the pain it caused in some parts of my anatomy, I'm pleased to say I survived to father four kids.) It's interesting to note my older brother didn't try to stop me. Maybe he just figgered it was something I had to do...
There was a time when I gave up a job and worked as a volunteer for a year to help support and restore a church who were going through difficulties. I was young and exciting, and in theory it cost me a great deal. But the long-term benefits were endless.
In contrast, I later quit a job to pursue a get-rich-quick "opportunity" and I wasn't smart enough to ask for advice. Little surprise that after three months I had no job and little money. It was of course, very good for my prayer life.
Need another example? My wife and I both took a risk when we got married, though admittedly that was a "managed" risk, as we both agreed from the start that the d-word would never be in our vocabulary. Mate, was any risk ever so worth it!
So when making decisions and considering risk, of course we have to ask ourselves, "What will it cost me if I do?" But here's the bigger question: "What might it cost me if I don't?"
Where has the courage gone? Why are we so afraid? What's happened to all the fun? What are we turning into?
Our nation was founded on the actions of risk-takers, men and women who wouldn't say die. They made decisions, they ignored the doomsayers and they succeeded against all odds. And we're all so proud of Sir Edmund Hillary for conquering Mt Everest, unlike so many who'd previously died in the attempt.
The world would be a sadder place if we didn't have our heroes - those who accomplish, and those who put themselves into danger to save another person's life - and yet we discourage our kids from getting hurt... in the playground... Um, where else can kids learn bravery?
In their heart of hearts, people were designed for risk and thrill - why else would they frequent the theme parks and roller coasters and the high ropes in Taupo? How else can you explain a 47 year-old going down a flying fox upside down? (Oh yeah, there were girls present...)
And sure, OSH has its place, and work-places should be safe, but do we really need a company notice to use the hand-rail on the stairs? I know, they put it up because someone slipped and got hurt. But shouldn't they be just as concerned that, in reading the notice, we might become distracted and miss our footing? Maybe they should put up another company notice:
PLEASE READ ALL NOTICES BEFORE ATTEMPTING TO USE THE STAIRS!Where's the case for personal responsibility? And in a wider sense, while we're so busy protecting ourselves from "potential" risk, aren't we also missing opportunities and "potential" benefits?
There will always be decisions to make, forks in the road. There will always be consequences. My advice to my kids as they chose their study options for university was pretty simple:
- study something you're going to love doing; and
- will make you money; and
- will facilitate your having kids; and
- you can use to advance a cause greater than your own
So here's a thought: Faith is a belief in a certain outcome, but so is fear. It's up to me which one I choose to meditate on, which road I choose to go down. And though I can't control the future, I can influence it...
And when I get a few years down the road and circumstances turn to custard, it's my choice whether or not I compare this road's custard to what "might" have happened had I chosen the other road. Frankly, I can't afford to live with blame and regret.
We must take risks! I have...
No, I'm not talking about the time I was out on my motorbike looking for a bump to jump, and came across a railway crossing, didn't really see the Stop sign, and landed on the main road out of town, with cars coming at me from both sides...
And nor am I promoting the type of risk when I leapt into the Manawatu River from just below the height of the road. (Given the pain it caused in some parts of my anatomy, I'm pleased to say I survived to father four kids.) It's interesting to note my older brother didn't try to stop me. Maybe he just figgered it was something I had to do...
There was a time when I gave up a job and worked as a volunteer for a year to help support and restore a church who were going through difficulties. I was young and exciting, and in theory it cost me a great deal. But the long-term benefits were endless.
In contrast, I later quit a job to pursue a get-rich-quick "opportunity" and I wasn't smart enough to ask for advice. Little surprise that after three months I had no job and little money. It was of course, very good for my prayer life.
"The steps of a good man are directed by the Lord, and He takes great pleasure in watching over him... and no matter how far he might fall, the Lord will never knock him over and keep him down. No Sir, He'll hold him up, he'll help him up and he'll get him going again..."In my experience, although it took time, that's exactly what happened!
Need another example? My wife and I both took a risk when we got married, though admittedly that was a "managed" risk, as we both agreed from the start that the d-word would never be in our vocabulary. Mate, was any risk ever so worth it!
So when making decisions and considering risk, of course we have to ask ourselves, "What will it cost me if I do?" But here's the bigger question: "What might it cost me if I don't?"
Friday, 31 August 2012
Kiniffees and gunommees
It's Father's Day on Sunday, and I would encourage you to honour your Dad - but maybe not in the way you would have expected...
Let me explain where I'm coming from.
I've lost count of how many times I've heard the story about some guy who's on his deathbed, and pronounces his regret that if only he hadn't spent so much time at work, and had instead done far more worthwhile things, like (insert here whatever cause it is the speaker wants you to support).
It's not inspiring, it's a guilt trip!
And then there's the one about the prison padre who couldn't meet the inmates' demand for Mother's Day cards, but later in the year couldn't get rid of a single Father's Day card.
Well, let me let you into a little secret - All the Dad's I know (and that's more than just a few) do their best, they love their kids and invariably have the best interests of their family at heart. And for all the stories you read about "bad" Dads, like the 17 year-old who broke his own baby's legs, there are a thousand more top blokes who on a daily basis sacrifice their own time and money, and so often forsake their own dreams, for the benefit of their kids.
And sure, they make mistakes, and yes, life as a kid can suck... "It's not fair," I would whine at my Dad. "Nor's a dark horse," was his standard reply....
But my Dad left me a heritage, and he had fun with us. We played cards, and we went to the park. We messed with the English language (knives became kiniffees and gnomes became gunommees). He took us to shows, we went to the beach, and we played games together. I still play the same games with my kids, and I can't wait to have grandkids so I can play them again!
The longer I'm a Dad, the more I understand mine. It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I started to learn some of the details about Dad's past and appreciate how it would have affected him - that's just one the reasons I tell my kids my stories. It's my choice what events I focus on, and whether I judge him or respect him. If I was real honest I'd tell you I'm a lousy son, and not much of a brother.
One of the saddest things about Father's Day is the number of kids who don't live with both parents. I know some kids who never see their Dad, and others who spend three days with one parent then four days with the other. Call me an idealist, but no wonder they're mixed up.
And speaking from experience, I don't think kids will ever understand why their parents split up. But I do know as an adult that there's no benefit in judging either party.
There are so many kids in our community who don't have a resident Dad for whatever reason, whether it's due to a broken marriage, or he works out of town or he's in prison or he died. There are so many women in our midst who bring up their kids alone - and it's not always a choice.
I would encourage you to get involved, even if it's just for this one day. Paul teaches that "Pure and undefiled religion ... is ... to visit orphans and widows in their trouble..."
My own life has been marked by men other than my Dad who gave me work, fed me, mentored me, forgave me, entertained me, taught me and, most importantly, gave me opportunities to succeed or fail, to try new things, to stretch my horizons. They believed in me.
That's not to diminish the efforts of my own Dad. He did all the above, plus he worked two, sometimes three jobs and he cared for one wife and five kids. He took us on annual holidays and he taught me practical skills. He took me to church and he introduced me to Jesus. He coached my soccer team and he fixed my motorbike when I crashed it. He picked me up when I ran out of petrol and and and and and...
Paul also writes that we should "honour our father and mother", which many take to mean that we should show them respect. However, because of past bad experiences such respect can be difficult, and can sometimes come grudgingly, if at all...
It makes sense to me - and it could be easier to achieve - if, as according to Shane Willard, we also apply Paul's instruction by acting in such a way as to make our parents proud of us - to bring them honour...
And that choice Dads, is solely up to us.
Let me explain where I'm coming from.
I've lost count of how many times I've heard the story about some guy who's on his deathbed, and pronounces his regret that if only he hadn't spent so much time at work, and had instead done far more worthwhile things, like (insert here whatever cause it is the speaker wants you to support).
It's not inspiring, it's a guilt trip!
And then there's the one about the prison padre who couldn't meet the inmates' demand for Mother's Day cards, but later in the year couldn't get rid of a single Father's Day card.
Well, let me let you into a little secret - All the Dad's I know (and that's more than just a few) do their best, they love their kids and invariably have the best interests of their family at heart. And for all the stories you read about "bad" Dads, like the 17 year-old who broke his own baby's legs, there are a thousand more top blokes who on a daily basis sacrifice their own time and money, and so often forsake their own dreams, for the benefit of their kids.
And sure, they make mistakes, and yes, life as a kid can suck... "It's not fair," I would whine at my Dad. "Nor's a dark horse," was his standard reply....
But my Dad left me a heritage, and he had fun with us. We played cards, and we went to the park. We messed with the English language (knives became kiniffees and gnomes became gunommees). He took us to shows, we went to the beach, and we played games together. I still play the same games with my kids, and I can't wait to have grandkids so I can play them again!
The longer I'm a Dad, the more I understand mine. It wasn't until I was in my twenties that I started to learn some of the details about Dad's past and appreciate how it would have affected him - that's just one the reasons I tell my kids my stories. It's my choice what events I focus on, and whether I judge him or respect him. If I was real honest I'd tell you I'm a lousy son, and not much of a brother.
One of the saddest things about Father's Day is the number of kids who don't live with both parents. I know some kids who never see their Dad, and others who spend three days with one parent then four days with the other. Call me an idealist, but no wonder they're mixed up.
And speaking from experience, I don't think kids will ever understand why their parents split up. But I do know as an adult that there's no benefit in judging either party.
There are so many kids in our community who don't have a resident Dad for whatever reason, whether it's due to a broken marriage, or he works out of town or he's in prison or he died. There are so many women in our midst who bring up their kids alone - and it's not always a choice.
I would encourage you to get involved, even if it's just for this one day. Paul teaches that "Pure and undefiled religion ... is ... to visit orphans and widows in their trouble..."
My own life has been marked by men other than my Dad who gave me work, fed me, mentored me, forgave me, entertained me, taught me and, most importantly, gave me opportunities to succeed or fail, to try new things, to stretch my horizons. They believed in me.
That's not to diminish the efforts of my own Dad. He did all the above, plus he worked two, sometimes three jobs and he cared for one wife and five kids. He took us on annual holidays and he taught me practical skills. He took me to church and he introduced me to Jesus. He coached my soccer team and he fixed my motorbike when I crashed it. He picked me up when I ran out of petrol and and and and and...
Paul also writes that we should "honour our father and mother", which many take to mean that we should show them respect. However, because of past bad experiences such respect can be difficult, and can sometimes come grudgingly, if at all...
It makes sense to me - and it could be easier to achieve - if, as according to Shane Willard, we also apply Paul's instruction by acting in such a way as to make our parents proud of us - to bring them honour...
And that choice Dads, is solely up to us.
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