<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807</id><updated>2009-11-15T21:08:48.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Flying Embers</title><subtitle type='html'>The purpose of my blog is to share inspiring thoughts from the past and present. I do not pretend that I live up to the level of excellence I write about, but my hope for myself and for you, is when a lesser challenge comes, we might remember what others have acheived and apply a measure of it.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>865</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-318648560589015610</id><published>2009-11-15T16:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T16:14:24.915-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SwCXbq4r4BI/AAAAAAAAB88/mHRzjiv85ok/s1600/M.T..bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 274px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SwCXbq4r4BI/AAAAAAAAB88/mHRzjiv85ok/s400/M.T..bmp" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404486054468902930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; There are three generic conditions under which a man may hold his soul. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  The first is where those instincts and passions which belong to our animal nature, and whose normal sphere is upon the material globe, predominate, and give tone to character. Under such circumstances, men are always sensual, -- fleshly, in scripture language. They live by the force of their material organization. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  But as men come under better influences, there grows up an intermediate state, a mixed character, in which force alternates with higher and better feelings. Under great excitement, the physical qualities predominate; but in times of quiet, and away from temptation, there grow up milder influences, nobler sentiments. The result is that there is an occasional outburst of feeling, and also an occasional experience of sweetness and peace. It is, in such circumstances, an alternating condition of the mind, which results in great strife and conflict between the one part and the other – between the higher and the lower nature. And the greater part of men in civilized countries live in this intermediate condition, in which the animal is not predominate, and in which the spiritual is not predominate, but in which sometimes one and sometimes the other rules, neither having free course.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  Then there is a final state – the highest we know of – that in which the moral sentiments completely rule. When these higher qualities give expression to the whole life—to the face, to the tone of the voice, to the language; where they surround the very soul, as with an atmosphere; where the whole nature is saturated with faith, hope, love—with truth, equity, benevolence –&lt;i&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;there is an air given to men, of strength in gentleness, of courage in sweetness, of activity in tranquility, of will without obstinacy, of self-confidence without conceit. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;All these qualities may exist in the individual, and over them all there shall be a luminous refinement, a spiritual glow, which saves the soul from the charge of insipidity and flatness, and gives it authority and vitality. When the soul is completely under the dominion of these spiritual emotions, it shines. It impresses all that come near it. It rules whatever is within its sphere. In short, the spiritual is to become supreme in authority. And that which makes us men- not that which makes us animals – gives the color and tone to the whole life and character.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  It is the atmosphere of the spiritual nature of man, or that appearance and those qualities which we see when the man is under complete control of his higher moral sentiments, which is what Jesus meant by “meekness”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  Matt, when I read this I immediately thought of the woman who was director at the AIDS orphanage where you took Carissa and I. I think so many of these qualities were evident in her. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-318648560589015610?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/318648560589015610/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=318648560589015610' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/318648560589015610'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/318648560589015610'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/11/meek-shall-inherit-earth.html' title='The Meek Shall Inherit The Earth'/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SwCXbq4r4BI/AAAAAAAAB88/mHRzjiv85ok/s72-c/M.T..bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-7073329161144706974</id><published>2009-11-14T09:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T09:18:39.021-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sv7igNe8wDI/AAAAAAAAB80/5NqTvd7ztSM/s1600-h/pinchotRoosevelt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 304px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sv7igNe8wDI/AAAAAAAAB80/5NqTvd7ztSM/s400/pinchotRoosevelt.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404005645894336562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I love to read Robert Louis Stevenson for pure entertainment. His insight into people just tickles me and he is always busy looking into the quirks and differences in people. Here he is talking about a good friend while they are on an ocean liner trip. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; "If he had one taste more strongly than another, it was to study character. Many an hour have we two walked upon the deck dissecting our neighbors in a spirit that was too purely scientific to be called unkind; whenever a quaint or human trait slipped out in conversation; you might have seen Jones and me exchanging glances; and we could hardly go to bed in comfort till we had exchanged notes and discussed the day's experience. We were then like a couple of anglers comparing a day's kill. But the fish we angled for were of a metaphysical species, and we angled as often as not in one &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;another's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; baskets. Once, in the midst of a serious talk, each found there was a scrutinizing eye upon himself; I own I paused in embarrassment at this double detection; but Jones, with a better civility, broke into a peal of unaffected laughter, and declared, what was the truth, that there was a pair of us indeed."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-7073329161144706974?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/7073329161144706974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=7073329161144706974' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/7073329161144706974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/7073329161144706974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-love-to-read-robert-louis-stevenson.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sv7igNe8wDI/AAAAAAAAB80/5NqTvd7ztSM/s72-c/pinchotRoosevelt.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-9099266860979229597</id><published>2009-11-14T07:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T08:15:49.729-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sv7UCBCwO_I/AAAAAAAAB8s/R-xgI6iN9UU/s1600-h/BlackWidow8.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sv7UCBCwO_I/AAAAAAAAB8s/R-xgI6iN9UU/s400/BlackWidow8.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403989733995985906" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt; I ran across this quote by Robert Louis Stevenson where he was, as always, busy contemplating the nature of men. Here he makes some intriguing comments about the reformed drunkard whose life and identity is wrapt up in abstinence. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt; "Hence the comparative success of the teetotal pledge; because to a man who had nothing it sets at least a negative aim in life. Somewhat as prisoners beguile their days by taming a spider, the reformed drunkard makes an interest out of abstaining from intoxicating drinks, and may live for that negation.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="color:#3333FF;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt; There is something, at least, not to be done each day; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;and a cold triumph awaits him every evening.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;I had to think that through a few times, visualizing a prisoner taming a poisonous spider, so at least at the end of the day he could say he was not bitten, which is some “cold triumph” that he can feel good about. Now the drunkard or drug addict is not the only one who becomes preoccupied in negatives;  I ran across this quote about Christianity that is equally as stinging – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;“Mr. Mills says, in his book on &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Liberty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;, that “Christian morality is in great part merely a protest against paganism: its ideal is negative rather than positive, passive rather than active.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;  So my point; the recovering addict, who has made tea totaling his goal and his only goal, to abstain from the bite of abusing again, it becomes the focus and can be the entire goal of life to abstain, or as Stevenson puts it, “He may live for that negation.” So at least at the end of the day, although he has done nothing for others, he has, at least, this cold triumph. Now initially this is a most commendable goal, but at some point one must move on to living a positive life with offensive goals, concerns for others and not just saving one’s own soul or sobriety. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;So in like manner, Mills quote that Christianity has reduced itself, in large part, to merely a protest against paganism, is the same principle, isn’t it? We do little to change the world, but we protest much, be it political issues, school policies, permitted words and lyrics, and of course those nasty agendas of the “gays”. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;So in our idle time we boast of not being bitten by the spider, and with great conviction protest the ungodliness of the day, but booing the rival team that is carrying the ball will never win the game. One must play offense as well as defense. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:medium;"&gt;Freaky picture of the black widow taken from the Internet, man spiders freak me out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-9099266860979229597?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/9099266860979229597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=9099266860979229597' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/9099266860979229597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/9099266860979229597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-ran-across-this-quote-by-robert-louis.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sv7UCBCwO_I/AAAAAAAAB8s/R-xgI6iN9UU/s72-c/BlackWidow8.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-7072858152358331975</id><published>2009-11-08T14:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-08T14:32:33.530-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Name above every name</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SvdFEkNKyoI/AAAAAAAAB8k/oGgG671Dqyg/s1600-h/q14.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SvdFEkNKyoI/AAAAAAAAB8k/oGgG671Dqyg/s400/q14.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5401862222794902146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; "Now when we are calculating God’s goodness, we must take measure by the family, according to Christ’s own declaration. On one occasion he taught the disciples on this very matter. He said to them, after giving them some other instruction, “if ye being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is in heaven give good things to them that ask him!” What is the exact logical position here? When you argue from a man to God, you are accustomed to say, “Ah! That is not a fair argument – God is a different being.” “No,” says Christ, “take whatever is good in man and argue that God is not only that, but infinitely better than that. In fashioning your conception of God, make it as resplendent in justice, as august in truth, as noble and pure in love, as radiant and wondrous in pity, and as enduring as you please. Never be afraid that you will over draw the divine character. God is never better in your thought or imagination than he is in himself. You may pile on, and pile on, as much as you please, and your descriptions of God will not transcend, but will come short of, the reality. When you heart is warmest, when it is noblest when it is truest, when it is best, when it flashes out its ideal conceptions of God, that ideal is far more likely to be near the truth than one that is coldly, critically, philosophically deduced from definite premises. For God’s nature really outruns the human capacity for reasoning."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; This piece affirms thoughts I began developing a number of years ago. I believed the emotions of compassion within men's hearts was a God given thing and that His level of compassion must far exceed ours. I saw within me a repulsion to see anything suffer, be it man or beast. How then can one reconcile this with the doctrine of eternal torment?   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"   style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Henry Ward Beecher - Painting by Norman Rockwell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-7072858152358331975?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/7072858152358331975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=7072858152358331975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/7072858152358331975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/7072858152358331975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/11/name-above-every-name.html' title='The Name above every name'/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SvdFEkNKyoI/AAAAAAAAB8k/oGgG671Dqyg/s72-c/q14.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-5925168838944314958</id><published>2009-11-01T08:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T08:29:53.785-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Su21yBxqpUI/AAAAAAAAB8c/ArEXiZiJFZM/s1600-h/Krzysztof+Buchowicz.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Su21yBxqpUI/AAAAAAAAB8c/ArEXiZiJFZM/s400/Krzysztof+Buchowicz.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399171399361930562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  “Now, in the midst of this vast and ever-unwearied breaking of the surge on the shore of experience, how cheerful, how joyous are the words of God! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;There is one reason why the Bible will never be upset just as long as the world lasts. You may prove to me that there is no such thing as inspiration; you may prove that this Book was dug out of a rock; you may destroy the prophet’s authority; you may take from the apostles their authority; you may take away the theory that the Bible came in any sense from God. Yet there is that in this Book which will keep it intact and make it potential as long as there is a heart to feel sorrow or to beat with hope. It is its humanity. It is its courage. It is the might and power of its love. It is the vast sympathy which wraps mankind as the atmosphere wraps the globe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It is its thought and care for men in all their wants. For the poor, the needy, the weak, the helpless, the crying, the sighing, the discouraged, the down-trodden, the unvictorious, the captives, little children, mighty monarchs, peasants, nobles – for all men – there is here a throb and a yearning. There are thousands of blessings held out to them – strength, bread, fruit, water, wine, swords, spears – everything for humanity—whatever they need in their masterly struggles in this world. This Book is an ark into which men will run, as long as the world stands, for succor and consolation. And who should have made such a Book as this, as a way cast up on which “the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Zion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads,” if it be not God?”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;  I love this quote by Henry Ward Beecher; it describes my feelings so well. "It is its humanity", displayed in every loving way Christ talked and walked among men. Let them say what they will, He walked into my life hearing "a throb and a yearning", and I can never deny it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo by Krzysztof Buchowicz &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-5925168838944314958?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/5925168838944314958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=5925168838944314958' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/5925168838944314958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/5925168838944314958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/11/now-in-midst-of-this-vast-and-ever.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Su21yBxqpUI/AAAAAAAAB8c/ArEXiZiJFZM/s72-c/Krzysztof+Buchowicz.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-8848198155843551628</id><published>2009-10-31T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T10:37:08.020-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuxzVRF9AUI/AAAAAAAAB8U/t_7hqgMZIpE/s1600-h/Lawrence+Paiken+-+colorful.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 363px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuxzVRF9AUI/AAAAAAAAB8U/t_7hqgMZIpE/s400/Lawrence+Paiken+-+colorful.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398816862513201474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  The following quote by Joseph Joubert I read in an essay by Matthew Arnold. In general the reading is way above my pay grade but this quote struck me. I'm around a lot of new Christians as well as older, dogmatic Christians, the kind that have "wings but no feet"; so this quote, though admittedly by a liberal Christian mind, made me pause to think. &lt;div&gt;  Now I chose this picture of the colorful woman because I see in her face a look of "show me".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I presume she has been around and has heard many great swelling words and arguments of religion, and possibly they have left her unchanged. But when one "makes truth lovely", like in the bottom picture, even the hardest of hearts, those most fond of "picking holes", cannot refute the Christian gem of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;“May I say it? It is not hard to know God, provided one will not force oneself to define Him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;“Do not bring into the domain of reasoning that which belongs to our innermost feeling. State truths of sentiment, and do not try to prove them. There is a danger in such proofs; for in arguing it is necessary to treat that which is in question as something problematic: now that which we accustom ourselves to treat as problematic ends by appearing to us as really doubtful. In things that are visible and palpable, never prove what is believed already; in things that are certain and mysterious- mysterious by their greatness and by their nature – make people believe them, and do not prove them; in things that are matters of practice and duty, command and do not explain. ‘Fear God,’ has made many men pious; the proofs of the existence of God have made many men atheists. From the defense springs the attack; the advocate begets in his hearer a wish to pick holes; and men are almost always led on, from the desire to contradict the doctor, to the desire to contradict the doctrine. Make truth lovely, and do not try to arm her; mankind will then be far less inclined to contend with her.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;Joseph Joubert.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=" ;font-family:Arial;color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuxzHnOLuHI/AAAAAAAAB8M/sxO8ngz1qyg/s1600-h/Street+-+Taci+Yuksel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuxzHnOLuHI/AAAAAAAAB8M/sxO8ngz1qyg/s400/Street+-+Taci+Yuksel.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398816627935131762" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Top photo by Lawrence Paiken, bottom photo by Taci Yuksel.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-8848198155843551628?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/8848198155843551628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=8848198155843551628' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/8848198155843551628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/8848198155843551628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/following-quote-by-joseph-joubert-i.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuxzVRF9AUI/AAAAAAAAB8U/t_7hqgMZIpE/s72-c/Lawrence+Paiken+-+colorful.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-4830427975128116518</id><published>2009-10-24T18:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T18:18:03.228-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuOnD-mHmII/AAAAAAAAB7s/lVEm7DZi-lY/s1600-h/steps1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuOnD-mHmII/AAAAAAAAB7s/lVEm7DZi-lY/s400/steps1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396340465304311938" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;While reading a chapter on the Holy Spirit by &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:city&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;Beecher&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;, I ran across this paragraph. Needless to say with a center housing thirty men I found it fascinating and so relevant. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; “We are so made that our first experience of excitement comes from physical or material excitements. Food, drink, heat, cold, agents of various kinds, on being applied to the body, or taken within it, develop nervous excitement. This nervous excitement goes on past mere sensational excitement, and becomes an excitement of the brain – of its passions, its reason and its affections. It is the lowest form of excitement. We very soon become familiar with the fact that men may be excited by other than mere physical stimuli. When men come to live with one another, they are excited. They are stimulated by each other’s presence. We may call it “mesmerism,” or “magnetism,” or whatever we choose; but one thing is certain, that men excite each other in a general way. We know that men are powerfully excited by the affections which they exercise, and by the evidences of reason, and by reasoning’s. In other words, while we begin life under the influence of mere physical stimulants, we soon rise to a point where excitements are social and moral. They are not physical stimulants applied to a physical body, but they are invisible moral influences which act as excitements and wake up the mind and affections.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo from the Internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-4830427975128116518?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/4830427975128116518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=4830427975128116518' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4830427975128116518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4830427975128116518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/while-reading-chapter-on-holy-spirit-by.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuOnD-mHmII/AAAAAAAAB7s/lVEm7DZi-lY/s72-c/steps1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-4649871181903898106</id><published>2009-10-24T17:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T17:44:02.225-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuOc-W1OtrI/AAAAAAAAB7k/kWkpbWIWFwo/s1600-h/Jay+and+Dave.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuOc-W1OtrI/AAAAAAAAB7k/kWkpbWIWFwo/s400/Jay+and+Dave.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396329373614651058" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  I am touched by many of the guys at the center. Each man is unique and God speaks through them to me; and I hope in return God speaks through me in return. I believe He does. Of late there is one of the students, Dave that has captured my heart. To look at him, he’s a rough cut; no question if a conflict were to arise I would want him on my side. In some ways he reminds me of my son Richard who is blessed genetically with a large and unusually strong frame.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Dave has the prison tattoo of a tear under his eye, knuckles are scarred many times, and he explains matter of factly that these scars are the reality of prison life. Dave was the child of a broken home; his mother is Mexican his father is white. They lived in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:state&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;California&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:state&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; when he was a baby where his father’s neglect and abuse applied through the haze of alcoholism broke the marriage up and Dave and his mother left to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mexico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; where Dave grew up. His mother hooked up with a man soon after whose business was growing marijuana in the hills of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Mexico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;. Dave climbed the hills and began working in the family business farming pot at age six. He knew nothing of laws or dangers; he was a six year old child doing what his parents told him. Needless to say he continued the family tradition and this led him to drug dealing and trafficking which led to his repeated jail and prison terms. But this is where Christ got a hold of Dave and began his restoration. There were many relapses; and on Dave’s brow there is a reminder of one of the slips. He backslid and got into another drug deal and this time as he had his back turned, one of his “friends” pulled a gun and aimed it at the back of his head just at that time Dave turned around, the man discharged the gun and it hit Dave in the forehead, but because of the turn it glanced off,  he shouted at the man, “Dude, you just shot me!”, and he returned fire and hit the guy in the butt. Such is the world Dave has been saved from and the stories are endless but what has captured my heart is the depth of Dave’s faith. Unlike so many, Dave truly listens to the Lord and he has a sharp mind and a deep faith at this time of his life and he strikes me as absolutely fearless. He fears not man nor circumstances and walks with such a self-assuredness clothed in a meek spirit that I find myself continually inspired and humbled. I’ll give you just one recent example; I was selling some furniture to two men obviously stoned, they wreaked with Pot, and what else one could only guess. They were in a good mood, we talked and teased and they bought. They asked me about some items that we had in stock way too long, so I gave them a generous discount and all was bliss, they were happy, money was flowing, all good. Now my lead man had a look of disgust and told me he’s sure they are drug dealers and wasted no Christian love on them. I’m sure he’s right but it went well. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  The next day however, they returned to pick up a few more items and they weren’t in such a jolly mood, they expected a big discount on a bed they wanted to buy, and when I didn’t oblige they showed their less benevolent side. I could tell this may unravel so I stood firm explained my allegiance to the guys in the program and explained I can only discount on items that have been in the store 90 days or so. I salvaged the situation and we wrapped up the sale. But I could see the side of them my lead man had warned me about the night before. Now they wanted it all delivered and Dave is my delivery man along with another student. I was thankful it was Dave because I had no fear of sending him to these guys house, after all he is bulletproof. I talked with Dave and described the guys to him and warned him to keep it simple, be extra careful with the furniture because if they put a nick on it the whole thing will become a wrestling match over devaluation and it will likely all come back for a refund. This would not be a stretch. What next happened caught me by complete surprise; Dave was eager to meet these drug dealers and couldn’t wait to talk with them and hoped this was a ministry opportunity. He explained how he went downtown to witness to drug dealers and the Lord has used him to offer hope to many, and he was itching to see these guys to see what God would unfold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Neither fear or anxiety entered his mind; he was off on a mission. He called them to let them know he was on his way and he spoke to them like long lost friends. They told him their car had broke down and asked him if he could give them a jump start. Oh no, my fears were about to unfold; I knew this was going to get screwed up and here was the first step. Before I shared my anxiety with Dave he gets a gleam in his eye and says,” Wow, we get an opportunity to do a good deed for them, the Lord is already preparing the ground.” &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Here I had been filled with anxiety, worried this would end up in some big problem, or shouting match or scene of some kind; which I might add would not be the first I've seen of this kind while at the center; but Dave said, “Let’s huddle and pray that Christ will give me a word for these guys”. I sheepishly joined in the prayer trying to hide my lack of faith, but I couldn't hide the encouragement that Dave inspired me with. Here was a drug dealer that had been soundly saved by Christ and his heart burned to speak with other drug dealers and left in full anticipation of a blessing while I stood humbled in unbelief. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I left that evening before he returned, and I must say it wouldn't surprise me if we have two new drug dealers joining the program in the morning.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial; color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "&gt;Dave is in the truck in the picture, the other man is Jay, who was a Professional bull rider. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-4649871181903898106?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/4649871181903898106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=4649871181903898106' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4649871181903898106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4649871181903898106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-am-touched-by-many-of-guys-at-center.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SuOc-W1OtrI/AAAAAAAAB7k/kWkpbWIWFwo/s72-c/Jay+and+Dave.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-8780043875581565701</id><published>2009-10-18T19:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-18T19:13:02.917-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StvKR56K3II/AAAAAAAAB7Y/HSxPJyJKc80/s1600-h/Jude.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StvKR56K3II/AAAAAAAAB7Y/HSxPJyJKc80/s400/Jude.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394127387657690242" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;  I have been reading a little Henry Ward Beecher and I ran across this piece on "fear". His description is about as thorough as any I've ever read. The chapter is on the comfort of God, but this part of it simply describes one of the emotions where we need comfort. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span style="mso-spacerun:yes"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;“This view of comfort which is contained in our text, (2 Thess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:time minute="16" hour="14"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;2:16&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:time&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;,17) may be carried out in many particulars. Christian life is ordained to comfort us in our struggles, for instance, with fear. “Fear hath torment.” It is a tormentor. It haunts men, night and day. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Great fears may come seldom; but the poison emery, the dust of fear, comes in, as it were, at every crevice, and settles down upon every fair thing in life. There are innumerable petty fears. There are ten thousand little hauntings. How full is life of fear which takes away from men the enjoyment of their prosperity! Fear stands by the cradle, and threatens the mother; and all her love and thankfulness cannot make her happy while fear scowls and threatens. The specter of fear hovers between lovers, and they dread and suffer. It shoots like a meteor along the twilight meditations of evening. It hides the sun at noonday with clouds. It threatens health with sickness and sickness with death, and death with numberless terrors. Cares are the offspring of fear. They sting like noxious insects in tropical nights. Fear discourages poverty. It takes ease away from riches. It is the persecutor of ambition. It is the parasite of conscience. It plants upon conscience its own evil growth, until sometimes conscience is but an inquisitor, with a whip of scorpions. Fear perpetually exaggerates. It is always changing, and coming up in new forms, and always dread forms. It is full of illusions. All the way through it is undermining, undermining, the joys and hopes of life. And all this, too, in the realm where Christ has been revealed. Go from house to house and mark down how large a play there is of fear; how much of motive is fear; how largely men work for fear of more suffering than they choose to have. And see how men are restrained by fear, standing in the place of conscience. See how fear is like broken glass, every particle of which cuts the foot that treads on it. How is fear the destroyer of men’s peace, perpetually rasping them, and beating them with small whips, or large ones; as the case may be. One would think that the name of God who governs this world was Fear.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  Right over against the gloomy face of fear stands the Lord Jesus Christ, and these words of ineffable cheer: “Our Lord Jesus Christ himself, and God, even our Father, which hath loved us, hath given us everlasting consolation, and good hope through grace, comfort your hearts!” That is just what hearts that are sick want – comfort; and they have it in Christ Jesus, and in the fatherhood of God, and nowhere else, in such measure, or with such pertinency of application”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo from the Internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-8780043875581565701?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/8780043875581565701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=8780043875581565701' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/8780043875581565701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/8780043875581565701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-have-been-reading-little-henry-ward.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StvKR56K3II/AAAAAAAAB7Y/HSxPJyJKc80/s72-c/Jude.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-4999185292828908212</id><published>2009-10-10T17:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T17:52:42.649-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEsEmuFQcI/AAAAAAAAB7I/-G1igqs2RuY/s1600-h/Raul+y+Sonia+-+mada.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEsEmuFQcI/AAAAAAAAB7I/-G1igqs2RuY/s400/Raul+y+Sonia+-+mada.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391138686564123074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  "I asked the rock beside the road what joy existence lent, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It answered, "For a million years my heart has been content;" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I asked an angel, looking down on earth with gaze intent,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;How man should rise to larger growth. Quoth he: "Through discontent."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Inspired Words For The Inspired Life - Photo by Rauly Sonia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-4999185292828908212?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/4999185292828908212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=4999185292828908212' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4999185292828908212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4999185292828908212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-asked-rock-beside-road-what-joy.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEsEmuFQcI/AAAAAAAAB7I/-G1igqs2RuY/s72-c/Raul+y+Sonia+-+mada.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-2127540048068757458</id><published>2009-10-10T17:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T17:40:23.869-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"They never taste who always drink; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;They always talk who never think." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Matthew Prior&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-2127540048068757458?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/2127540048068757458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=2127540048068757458' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/2127540048068757458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/2127540048068757458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/they-never-taste-who-always-drink-they.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-1493206090552830669</id><published>2009-10-10T17:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T17:35:02.112-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEmSNos1gI/AAAAAAAAB7A/61dKj7bXV3E/s1600-h/dream+of+sleep+-+B.+Read.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 349px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEmSNos1gI/AAAAAAAAB7A/61dKj7bXV3E/s400/dream+of+sleep+-+B.+Read.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391132323279066626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  Don't you just love this picture? You must enlarge it just to gaze at it. When I ran across it I hoped that I could find a great quote to go with it but for some time now I haven't found one and I just want to share this photo by A. Read titled, "Dream of sleep".  &lt;div&gt;I have a book titled "The New Dictionary of Thoughts", so I looked up the word dream to see if there was anything that struck my fancy. I ran across this quote which I think is very interesting -- &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;"We have in dreams no true perception of time - a strange property of mind! -- for if such be also its property when entered into the eternal disembodied state, time will appear to us eternity!" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Winslow.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I never considered that in my dreams there is no perception of time but it is true, and somehow I find that so interesting. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-1493206090552830669?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/1493206090552830669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=1493206090552830669' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1493206090552830669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1493206090552830669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/dont-you-just-love-this-picture-you.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEmSNos1gI/AAAAAAAAB7A/61dKj7bXV3E/s72-c/dream+of+sleep+-+B.+Read.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-1423372756348426838</id><published>2009-10-10T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-10T17:13:08.414-07:00</updated><title type='text'>How to concentrate and expedite</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEhMo0fi3I/AAAAAAAAB64/Yo63ZtVs1JI/s1600-h/Jose+A+Gallego+Artesano.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEhMo0fi3I/AAAAAAAAB64/Yo63ZtVs1JI/s400/Jose+A+Gallego+Artesano.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5391126729938930546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I ran across the following list of 9 tips to truly help one become more productive. If it weren't for these principles at work I would be lost in a sea of distractions. I think by the time I was 50 I became pretty good at applying these, so simple but so important.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;1. Cut out non-essentials.  2. Don't hesitate; when done with one thing begin on the next.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;3. Do the nearest, and, other things being equal, the hardest things first. 4. Finish one job before beginning the next, and don't pause between. 5. Do your thinking while you are acting. 6. If you have assistants use them, and do yourself what they can't do. Then help them out. 7. Do things right the first time, so as not to have to do them twice. 8. Don't look out the window, but keep thought and eye on the thing you are doing. 9. If a thing is important don't put it off; do it now while you think of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Author unknown - Photo by Jose A Gallego&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-1423372756348426838?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/1423372756348426838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=1423372756348426838' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1423372756348426838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1423372756348426838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/how-to-concentrate-and-expedite.html' title='How to concentrate and expedite'/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/StEhMo0fi3I/AAAAAAAAB64/Yo63ZtVs1JI/s72-c/Jose+A+Gallego+Artesano.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-2577970141999846571</id><published>2009-10-06T19:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T20:03:21.345-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SswEunNWnyI/AAAAAAAAB6w/htoC0vQu9bU/s1600-h/Margaret+Woodall-Shark+-+Twinkle+eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SswEunNWnyI/AAAAAAAAB6w/htoC0vQu9bU/s400/Margaret+Woodall-Shark+-+Twinkle+eyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389688052901125922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran across this little saying by Alice Cary, and thought it is a nice verse for children to memorize; adults too.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;"Kind hearts are the garden, kind thoughts are the roots,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style="font-size:large;"&gt;Kind words are the blossoms, kind deeds are the fruits." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo by Margret Woodall - Shark.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-2577970141999846571?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/2577970141999846571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=2577970141999846571' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/2577970141999846571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/2577970141999846571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/i-ran-across-this-little-saying-by.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SswEunNWnyI/AAAAAAAAB6w/htoC0vQu9bU/s72-c/Margaret+Woodall-Shark+-+Twinkle+eyes.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-3561092077326864708</id><published>2009-10-06T19:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T19:37:06.875-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Ssv8GprhZWI/AAAAAAAAB6o/BHWpM0aE4es/s1600-h/perplexed_gorilla_small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Ssv8GprhZWI/AAAAAAAAB6o/BHWpM0aE4es/s400/perplexed_gorilla_small.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389678570276742498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I've been re-reading from Isaac Watt's book "The  Improvement of the Mind," which is just filled with good suggestions on discoursing with people, especially those with whom you differ. This little piece is so practical --&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; "As you should carry about with you a constant and sincere sense of your own ignorance, by taking all proper opportunities to ask and inquire for farther information; whether it be the meaning of a word, the nature of a thing, the reason of a proposition, the custom of a nation, etc., never remain in ignorance for want of asking. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  Many a person had arrived at some considerable degree of knowledge, if he had not been full of self-conceit, and imagined that he had known enough already, or else was ashamed to let others know that he was unacquainted with it. God and man are ready to teach the meek, the humble, and the ignorant; but he that fancies himself to know any particular subject well, or that will not venture to ask a question about it, such an one will not put himself into the way of improvement by inquiry and diligence. "A fool may be wiser in his own conceit than ten men who can render a reason," and such a one is very likely to be an everlasting fool; and perhaps also it is a silly shame renders his folly incurable.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;                       "If fools have ulcers, and their pride conceal 'em;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;                         They must have ulcers still, for none can heal 'em." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo by A. Small&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-3561092077326864708?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/3561092077326864708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=3561092077326864708' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/3561092077326864708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/3561092077326864708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/10/ive-been-re-reading-from-isaac-watts.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Ssv8GprhZWI/AAAAAAAAB6o/BHWpM0aE4es/s72-c/perplexed_gorilla_small.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-8690719674861279443</id><published>2009-09-27T13:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T13:56:59.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr_QThVf4_I/AAAAAAAAB6g/X8jvCdhsPqE/s1600-h/angel+with+broken+chain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr_QThVf4_I/AAAAAAAAB6g/X8jvCdhsPqE/s400/angel+with+broken+chain.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386252713143034866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I ran across this poem about freedom from generational curses by E.W.Wilcox, and I just love it. It kind of goes along with the post below about removing the tree roots and all. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I care not who were vicious back of me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;No shadow of their sins on me is shed. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My will is greater than heredity, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am no worm to feed upon the dead. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;My face, my form, my gestures, and my voice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;May be reflections from a race that was,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;But this I know, and knowing, I rejoice:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am myself a part of the Great Cause.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I am a spirit! Spirit would suffice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;If rightly used to set a chained world free,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Am I not stronger than a mortal vice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;That crawls the length of some ancestral tree?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Statue from the Internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-8690719674861279443?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/8690719674861279443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=8690719674861279443' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/8690719674861279443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/8690719674861279443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-ran-across-this-poem-about-freedom.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr_QThVf4_I/AAAAAAAAB6g/X8jvCdhsPqE/s72-c/angel+with+broken+chain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-6366218788399658146</id><published>2009-09-27T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-27T13:21:17.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr_H8GI_FkI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/qncSLSam0ew/s1600-h/he-anointed-his-eyes-walter-rane.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 231px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr_H8GI_FkI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/qncSLSam0ew/s400/he-anointed-his-eyes-walter-rane.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386243514612782658" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  I watched a movie titled “Sometimes in April”. It was a moving show about &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Rwanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; and the struggles and plight of the Tutsi during the 1994 genocide. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;It haunted me in worship today as I longed to see an end to the madness and oppression of man against man. For the most part the world watched as nearly one million people were murdered in &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;st1:country-region&gt;&lt;st1:place&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:   Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Rwanda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;, and at the very beginning of the movie they displayed the following quote – &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;” In the end, we will remember not&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;the words of our enemies&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;   but the silence of our friends.”  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Martin Luther King Jr.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; color: rgb(51, 51, 51); "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;As we sang about the glory of God and His power over the whole earth I just couldn't reconcile what I witnessed the night before with the songs I was singing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;How can we be more effective in stopping the horrors in our world, why don’t we care more? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;As I sat in church my eyes landed on a passage from Mark 8 verses 22 -25 and I saw it in a different light, and I’m sure it is not theologically correct but it helped me understand our blindness a little better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;“And the disciples brought a blind man to Jesus and entreated Him to touch him.And taking the blind man by the hand, He brought him out of the village; and after spitting on his eyes, and laying His hands upon him, He asked him, “Do you see anything?”And he looked up and said, “I see men, for I am seeing them like trees walking about.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Then again He laid His hands upon his eyes; and he looked intently and was restored, and began to see everything clearly.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;   I wondered about the method that Jesus used to heal this man’s sight, and it is a stretch, but I could see the eyes of Jesus begin to well up with compassion and those tears, some of which ran down his face and some entering his mouth by way of his tear ducts, and he placed his finger on His tongue and applied them to the man’s eyes where his vision began to be restored, but incompletely; he saw men as trees. I thought that this is where my problem lies, I see and hear of the needs of the world but because I remain distant and uninvolved, they are not clear enough to move me to action. But Jesus repeated the process and the man saw clearly. This reminded me of growth in God’s grace where we begin our walk with Christ largely self-centered, but with more anointing we begin to see the needs of others through His eyes and His anguish which leads us to action. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt; Picture from the Internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;color:#333333"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-6366218788399658146?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/6366218788399658146/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=6366218788399658146' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/6366218788399658146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/6366218788399658146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-watched-movie-titled-sometimes-in.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr_H8GI_FkI/AAAAAAAAB6Y/qncSLSam0ew/s72-c/he-anointed-his-eyes-walter-rane.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-1183830607314702726</id><published>2009-09-26T10:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T10:54:30.424-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr5U4KXkaQI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/DsFhQrXX3PA/s1600-h/3522067.Pict1343.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr5U4KXkaQI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/DsFhQrXX3PA/s400/3522067.Pict1343.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385835528214309122" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;   I was talking to one of the guys in the program the other day and he was explaining why he came to Teen Challenge and not some other drug rehab. program. His answer was that all the other programs he inquired into presented drug addiction as a disease that can be overcome but will be with him forever. When he talked to them at Teen Challenge they spoke of being set free from addiction in Christ and that it was a choice we make and there is hope of total recovery. That message of hope struck him so deeply he immediately chose Teen Challenge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; It reminded me of the words of Christ – “If you had faith like a mustard see you would say to this mulberry tree, ‘be uprooted and be planted in the sea’; and it would obey you.” The tree is not cut down, but it is pulled up roots and all; this was the hope this young man saw. Bless God forever. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo from the Interne&lt;/span&gt;t&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-1183830607314702726?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/1183830607314702726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=1183830607314702726' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1183830607314702726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1183830607314702726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-was-talking-to-one-of-guys-in-program.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr5U4KXkaQI/AAAAAAAAB6Q/DsFhQrXX3PA/s72-c/3522067.Pict1343.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-4177622042055484892</id><published>2009-09-26T10:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T10:31:59.772-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr5N601KZFI/AAAAAAAAB6I/K4qZdU75BNQ/s1600-h/James+Pan+-+pure+anger.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr5N601KZFI/AAAAAAAAB6I/K4qZdU75BNQ/s400/James+Pan+-+pure+anger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385827877391066194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; ".... But we have a Shepherd full of care, full of kindness, full of power, who has said, " I will seek that which was lost, and bind up that which was broken, and bring again that which was driven away, and will strengthen that which was sick." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;How tender are these expressions, and how well fulfilled! His sheep feed in the midst of wolves, yet are preserved safe; for though they see Him not, His eyes and His heart are upon them. Do we wonder that Daniel was preserved in the lion's den? Why, it is a common case. Which of God's children have not cause to say, "My soul is among lions"? But the Angel of the covenant stops their mouths, or only permits them to gape and roar, to show their teeth, and what they would do, if they might; but they may not; they shall not bite and tear us at their own will. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Let us trust Him, and all shall be well." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;   I want to add something to this but because it is a common case to be among lions I'll just say amen and thank you Lord.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;John Newton - Awesome photo by James Pan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-4177622042055484892?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/4177622042055484892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=4177622042055484892' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4177622042055484892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4177622042055484892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sr5N601KZFI/AAAAAAAAB6I/K4qZdU75BNQ/s72-c/James+Pan+-+pure+anger.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-5224229550286691785</id><published>2009-09-24T10:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T10:45:15.593-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sruu-eAveNI/AAAAAAAAB6A/G6lag_-zBEg/s1600-h/Michael+Menekis+-+Apocalypse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 291px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sruu-eAveNI/AAAAAAAAB6A/G6lag_-zBEg/s400/Michael+Menekis+-+Apocalypse.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385090167682857170" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt; "Wesley's inspiration was a belief that no human being lived on earth, so base, so stupid, so worldly, so utterly corrupt and worthless, but that if could believe it, God was ready to kindle in his soul a fire of love which would wholly consume his evil."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mmmm, here in lies our hope!!!!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo by Michael Menekis&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-5224229550286691785?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/5224229550286691785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=5224229550286691785' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/5224229550286691785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/5224229550286691785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/wesleys-inspiration-was-belief-that-no.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sruu-eAveNI/AAAAAAAAB6A/G6lag_-zBEg/s72-c/Michael+Menekis+-+Apocalypse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-7316532413297592023</id><published>2009-09-24T09:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-24T10:08:22.592-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;  One of my granddaughters was telling me about a foreign exchange student from Denmark she has befriended and took to church last night; she could tell the friend was uncomfortable and later her friend commented it was "too religious" for her. My granddaughter was disappointed and was considering how to beautify religion for her new friend. The two following quotes I ran across address the situation as clearly as anything that comes to mind.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Jennie, the working girl, brings to me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Hope and trust and a gentler grace,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Though her words are few and her manner shy,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;I can read a sermon in her sweet face; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;For Jennie, the working girl, makes it plain,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;That to live for others is richest gain."  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sruk-2sT--I/AAAAAAAAB54/FZFQ6J_0s6I/s1600-h/Sune+Wendelboe.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 389px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sruk-2sT--I/AAAAAAAAB54/FZFQ6J_0s6I/s400/Sune+Wendelboe.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385079179191778274" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  "To be full of goodness, cheerfulness, sympathy, and of helpful hope, causes one to move on human life as stars move on dark seas to bewildered mariners. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;- author unknown&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrukdOARDwI/AAAAAAAAB5w/Cf9x5YWvCcI/s1600-h/Anna+Pagnacco+-+eyes.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 357px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrukdOARDwI/AAAAAAAAB5w/Cf9x5YWvCcI/s400/Anna+Pagnacco+-+eyes.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385078601333935874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;So we concluded the discussion by simply agreeing that if she will just be herself and live out her faith freely, and speak her words sparingly, her impact on her new friend may well be the sermon that wins her heart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Poem Jennie by Harriet F. Crocker - top photo by Anna Pagnacco, bottom photo by Sune Wenelboe. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-7316532413297592023?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/7316532413297592023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=7316532413297592023' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/7316532413297592023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/7316532413297592023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/one-of-my-granddaughters-was-telling-me.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Sruk-2sT--I/AAAAAAAAB54/FZFQ6J_0s6I/s72-c/Sune+Wendelboe.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-4595669827444439316</id><published>2009-09-21T19:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:25:59.099-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Srg72Y8cnaI/AAAAAAAAB5o/YS-4N6b_U0I/s1600-h/Tom+White.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Srg72Y8cnaI/AAAAAAAAB5o/YS-4N6b_U0I/s400/Tom+White.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384119160116387234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been reading a little from St Francois De Sales and I really like the two following paragraphs. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  "Everything St. Francois said, even the most casual word, to all his pupils, was aimed, by his extremely subtle approach, at eliminating all traces of fear and anguish. That is why gentleness was his keynote. Scarcely had he spoken to anyone before he knew their temperament and disposition and natural traits. He also had the ability to conform all that he had to say to the capacity and capability of the listener so that everybody, from a simple maid to a Jesuit theologian, from an unassuming widow to an argumentative Calvinist, could understand him. He served one kind of meat to the strong and another to the weak; he used one language for the extrovert, and another to the introvert........&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  Is not the real challenge of the spiritual guide to know the place where the person he is guiding happens to be - physically, intellectually and spiritually? So many spiritual directors write or speak from a point of view which is rigidly fixed on a particular path which they themselves have traveled. Even though they may be well advanced they frequently speak in light of some condition which they alone have experienced and often without realizing that others are not at their stage, and perhaps not even meant to experience what they have experienced, or might not ever be destined to travel the same way".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;  I just love the last paragraph! So often I have heard people speak without taking time to listen to the hearer, almost as though they have a one size fits all gospel. Often I recall Jesus asking a question to people that inquired of Him; "do you want to be healed?", "what does the scripture say," are just examples of Christ seeking the underlying issues. We have the gospel presented to us by four authors, each to a different audience; Jews, Romans, Greeks, Gentiles. I think this is further example of changing methods to differing people. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  style=" ;font-size:small;"&gt;Photo by Tom White&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-4595669827444439316?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/4595669827444439316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=4595669827444439316' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4595669827444439316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/4595669827444439316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-been-reading-little-from-st.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Srg72Y8cnaI/AAAAAAAAB5o/YS-4N6b_U0I/s72-c/Tom+White.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-9060135958483460197</id><published>2009-09-21T19:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T19:35:25.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Srg3vWiJWUI/AAAAAAAAB5g/asVNKWvqE9s/s1600-h/grape_vine_1016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 184px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Srg3vWiJWUI/AAAAAAAAB5g/asVNKWvqE9s/s400/grape_vine_1016.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384114641163606338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Here is another section that I thought was especially good from St. Francois De Sales. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  "Our dear Father (writes Camus) had a great respect for the old imperial motto - Make haste slowly; as also for the saying, "Soon enough, if well enough." His favorite words were "Little but good," and he continually warned people against supposing that perfection is to be found in a multiplicity of religious exercises, whether internal or external. If one questioned this as contrary to that insatiable love of which the masters of the spiritual life tell us -- a love which never says "enough", which never counts itself to have attained, but is ever reaching forward to greater heights, he would reply: "You must grow in this love by means of the root rather than the branches": explaining himself to mean that a multitude of spiritual exercises, imperfectly done, often superfluous, or not to the purpose, resemble the useless tendrils of a vine, which must be pruned away if it is to bear good grapes; whereas the real life or root is nourished and strengthened by a few good works very carefully performed; that is to say, done in a spirit of very fervent love of God, wherein all true Christian perfection consists." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"a very few good works carefully performed," this verse stuck out to me because it is easy to be influenced to become involved in many things when we really have barely enough time to do the necessities well. We each have spiritual gifts where we can devote ourselves to God in this 'carefully performed way'; but if we get our plate too full then we lose what we had and gain nothing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Photo from the internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-9060135958483460197?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/9060135958483460197/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=9060135958483460197' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/9060135958483460197'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/9060135958483460197'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/here-is-another-section-that-i-thought.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/Srg3vWiJWUI/AAAAAAAAB5g/asVNKWvqE9s/s72-c/grape_vine_1016.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-9028380911219630547</id><published>2009-09-16T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T21:57:05.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrG_iZHxdcI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/FVBFPY12z9M/s1600-h/IllustrationPrayOverScriptures+-+Sheri+Doty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrG_iZHxdcI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/FVBFPY12z9M/s400/IllustrationPrayOverScriptures+-+Sheri+Doty.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382293627264398786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  "In a word, let us endeavor to keep close to God, to be much in prayer, to watch carefully over our hearts, and leave the busy warm spirits to make the best of their work. The secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him and wait on Him continually; to these He will show His covenant, not notionally, but experimentally.  A few minutes of the Spirit's teaching will furnish us with more real useful knowledge than toiling through whole folios of commentators and expositors; they are useful in their places and are not to be undervalued by those who can perhaps, in general, do better without them; but it will be our wisdom to deal less with the streams and be more close in applying to the Fountainhead. The Scripture itself and the Spirit of God, are the best and the only sufficient expositors of Scripture. Whatever men have valuable in their writings, they got it from hence; and the way is as open to us as to any of them." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Don't you just love that? The Lord can take one line from the Bible or one comment from a sermon and shed His light on it making it stand out as though written exclusively for us, at that very moment. Oh for more light!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;John Newton - Photo by Sheri Doty&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-9028380911219630547?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/9028380911219630547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=9028380911219630547' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/9028380911219630547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/9028380911219630547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/in-word-let-us-endeavor-to-keep-close.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrG_iZHxdcI/AAAAAAAAB5Y/FVBFPY12z9M/s72-c/IllustrationPrayOverScriptures+-+Sheri+Doty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8905807.post-1234032777511801053</id><published>2009-09-16T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-16T21:14:40.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrG17hhW6gI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/glzFdCtudhg/s1600-h/7350%2520Religion%2520China%2520Old%2520man%2520praying%2520in%2520the%2520Mass%2520at%2520Catholic%2520church%2520Xinghe%2520village%2520Shanxi%2520Xian.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 309px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrG17hhW6gI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/glzFdCtudhg/s400/7350%2520Religion%2520China%2520Old%2520man%2520praying%2520in%2520the%2520Mass%2520at%2520Catholic%2520church%2520Xinghe%2520village%2520Shanxi%2520Xian.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382283063899646466" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  I've posted quotes on this topic many times but it always speaks to me and as I work with many young Christians and from the mouth of these babes I find a great source of inspiration. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;None are theologians, none have in depth Bible knowledge, but what they do have is a simple faith burning within them; a great hope they see in Christ, and it is contagious. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;  "High speculations are as barren as the tops of cedars; but the fundamentals of Christianity are fruitful as the valleys or the creeping vine. For know, that it is no mediation, but it may be an illusion, when you consider mysteries to become more learned, without thoughts of improving piety.... It was a saying of Aegidius, " that an old and a simple woman, if she loves Jesus, may be greater than was brother Bonaventure." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"&gt;Lack of learning and disability to consider great secrets of theology, do not at all retard our progress to spiritual perfections." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"&gt;Jeremy Taylor - photo from the Internet&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8905807-1234032777511801053?l=fcb3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/feeds/1234032777511801053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8905807&amp;postID=1234032777511801053' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1234032777511801053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8905807/posts/default/1234032777511801053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://fcb3.blogspot.com/2009/09/ive-posted-quotes-on-this-topic-many.html' title=''/><author><name>FCB</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08741867097151481332</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='16212917951084881211'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_G5O_3NAZ9Go/SrG17hhW6gI/AAAAAAAAB5Q/glzFdCtudhg/s72-c/7350%2520Religion%2520China%2520Old%2520man%2520praying%2520in%2520the%2520Mass%2520at%2520Catholic%2520church%2520Xinghe%2520village%2520Shanxi%2520Xian.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>