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Showing posts from January, 2020

A Monday Morning Prayer

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Give us your Spirit, Lord. Grant us a peaceful day, — when evening comes we will praise you with joy and purity of heart. Give us your Spirit, Lord. Let your splendor rest upon us today, — direct the work of our hands. Give us your Spirit, Lord. May your face shine upon us and keep us in peace, — may your strong arm protect us. Give us your Spirit, Lord. Look kindly on all who put their trust in our prayers, — fill them with every bodily and spiritual grace. Give us your Spirit, Lord. Amen From Monday Prayer for Monday in Ordinary Time

Beyond the Blame Game: No Excuse for Making Excuses

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Excuses are a dime a dozen. You can come up with all kinds of them to explain why you haven't been your best. You can blame the boss. You can blame the environment. You can blame your family. You can blame the clock (I just don't have time.) You can blame the situation. If you're looking for a way to weasel out of something you should be doing, you'll find it. The human mind has the uncanny ability to rationalize anything. The bottom line, however, is that if you continue making excuses for mediocrity, you will never realize your true, God-given, potential. It does no good to dream about what you are going to accomplish tomorrow if you're unwilling to pay the price today. Inspiration without commitment vanishes at the first hint of difficulty. A vision without careful planning is only a daydream. An idea isn't worth much unless it is accompanied by shoe leather. Refuse to cave into "somewhere over the rainbow" thinking. Your "shi

An Ugly Old Stump

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Just an ugly old stump -- that's all it was -- and old stumps carry no hopes or dreams. Only maps and memory rings of thirsty days, hard toil, and weary longings embedded to the core. Just an ugly old stump -- a dwarfed reminder -- of what once was. . . and all that might have been. If only. If only. But old stumps carry no hopes or dreams -- Only scarred rememberings. . . of lightening strikes and howling wind, of squirrels and hammer heads, of children's summer play, All these now faded away To just an ugly old stump -- useless for humans, but to to sit to rest to think And hurried humans hardly take the time to do such things. Just an ugly old stump -- that's all it was -- and old stumps carry no hopes or dreams. Or do they? Look again. Could it be? A tiny sprout of green? What could this possibly mean? "A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse" Isa. 11:1 "Hope springs eternal in the human breast. . ." Alexa

Another Year is Dawning

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Another year is dawning!   Dear Father, let it be,  in working or in waiting, another year with thee; another year of leaning upon thy loving breast, another year of trusting, of quiet, happy rest. Another year of mercies, of faithfulness and grace; another year of gladness in the shining of thy face; another year of progress, another year of praise, another year of proving thy presence all the days. Another year of service, of witness for thy love; another year of training for holier work above. Another year is dawning! Dear Father, let it be on earth, or else in heaven, another year for thee. -- Frances Ridley Havergal Music Here