Nov. 16, 2008 - What's Going On With Priceless Purity?
[Originally posted on www.pricelesspurity.org]
Okay, in case any of you people have been stopping by amidst this current web designing chaos, and wondering what in the world wide web is going on - rest assured that (hopefully) by the end of this month, we’ll have most of our articles transferred and revised on here! Also, we feel like it’s worth mentioning we’re going to try getting a new and improved template on here by the end of this month as well! (This is the 3rd time we’ve gone through this template business, and it’s hard to stay patient about it, but it gets to the point where there’s no other option left for us but patience! =P)
We’re hoping and praying that things will go smoothly in the next few weeks, and we can get everything completed by early next month! So far, Wordpress is really confusing and we’re still getting used to it…we’re hangin’ in there though, so please bear with us!
We recieved a message earlier this month that our “old” site location at MSN groups will be shutting down February next year, due to the MSN service closing down. This has put us in our what we call “inspired” mode in which we start getting motivated to work on our site again. We’ve got tons of new ideas, but we’re going to be taking it slowly - one step at a time. If you can remember to, please pray for us and our site, we really feel like God wants us to be working on this website for a reason.
Slightly off topic, but in the meantime, if any of you are on twitter, you can catch up with us on there for the latest updates. (http://www.twitter.com/pricelesspurity)
Alright, God bless all of you!
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Aug. 22, 2008 - Just An Update...
Wives, submit to your own husbands, as is fitting in the Lord.
Husbands, love your wives and do not be bitter toward them.
Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well pleasing to the Lord.
Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.
Bondservants, obey in all things your masters according to the flesh, not with eyeservice, as men-pleasers, but in sincerity of heart, fearing God. And whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance; for you serve the Lord Christ. But he who does wrong will be repaid for what he has done, and there is no partiality."
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Aug. 8, 2008 - Integrity
I often see that word and sigh, thinking of a soldier dying for his country or a missionary leaving his family to go reach out to a civilization desperate for the truth of God's Word. I think of big acts, and famous people who make a difference. Nobility, bravery and strength - I look on those things and thank the Lord for people who live it out. I look on my own life and think that one day I will have those traits. I look on it as if it's some distant thing that I cannot obtain until I'm "older" or "more experienced". We've all been preached to about making a difference in the lives of others, but what about ourselves? Are we making changes in our own character? Are we living a life of integrity?
The other day I was in the kitchen eating, watching my amazing mother try to do three things at once: talk on the phone, clean the kitchen and answer questions. As I sat there eating I thought about how I wanted to be like that one day and how one day I'll be admired for my hard work ethic, etc, etc. I said a quick prayer for an opportunity to come up so I could work on it, and thought nothing more of it. Now, by this point my mom was starting to get overwhelmed so she eventually left the room to continue her phone conversation and I was left to myself in the kitchen. After lunch hours the Clark kitchen isn't usually spotless and this was no rare occasion. I started to go back and forth in my head about whether I should clean it up or not and I started to make excuses like: I can't clean up cause what if everyone isn't done eating? It would be a total waste. Obviously, things needed to be cleaned up, but can you guess what I did? I got up, went straight upstairs and left the kitchen for "someone else" to clean up, thinking: what's the big deal? I do it all the time. How's that for integrity?
Now I know you're thinking you've done way worse, and truth is, so have I. No matter what the situation is though, you have to decide in your heart to do the right thing, and do it. Sometimes integrity isn't necessarily choosing right over wrong, it's choosing right over nothing. It's making the choice to do the right thing instead of doing nothing at all. It isn't easy, and in most cases, integrity doesn't involve being in a big crowd or peer pressure (for me, anyways). It's in the small things we do...it's the "quality of being whole or undivided" no matter what situation we're in. Being moral and choosing the right things in every situation. As Jim Stovall puts it: "Integrity is doing the right thing, even if nobody is watching". It's hard.
I was watching a woman run a marathon on tv a few months back and I remember being so struck and inspired by her motivation. She was only halfway through but there was such confidence in her face that she was going to complete it. I'm sure everything in her body was screaming to stop but she didn't slow down. This woman's strength and motivation kept her going - not her dreams of having it. I get so caught up in dreaming and hoping for the future that I miss the opportunities I have now. Those are the most important in my life; those are the ones that will build character; and I still ignore them. I keep waiting for a big chance to prove my integrity but to be honest, as I examine how I live, I notice how very little I have. I know that I need to be more faithful to what I know is right...to my gut, to put it bluntly.
"The integrity of the upright will guide them, but the perversity of the unfaithful will destroy them." Proverbs 11:3 (NKJV)
Like every other Christian on earth, I've always wanted to be someone people can trust and look up to...someone who is noble. It's taken me so long to realize that the choices I make every day are the ones that build my character and it's not how much time I spend praying before I get up in the morning. It's purity in mind and in actions...it's in the little, mundane things we do every day that make us who we are. Once you are confident in this, there will be no need to preach it, because you're living it out.
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Aug. 1, 2008 - What Forgiveness Really Is
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Mar. 1, 2008 - Love overcomes a multitude of sins
Wow...It's March 1st already! Time seriously has been flying by fast. So, it's about time to post something new, right?
Today I was reading in my Daily Light devotional what the Bible verses were for today, and one of them was 1 Peter 4:8 - and it says:
"And above all things have fervent love for one another, for 'love will cover a multitude of sins.'"
The Bible seems to talk about how important it is to love one another. It's become something everyone is used to reading, or hearing about, that I don't think people truly know what it means to act lovingly to one another. It's totally thrown out of the picture, when it should be a huge priority to everyone. I will admit that several times I have forgotten to act lovingly towards other people. And even worse, they don't act lovingly back. This creates a stone-hearted barrier between people, and God knows why - it's because of the lack of love and respect and forgiveness.
1 John 4:20 says, "If anyone says, 'I love God,' yet hates his brother, he is a liar. For anyone who does not love his brother, whom he has seen, cannot love God, whom he has not seen." -
Who here ADMITS they have ever had a hateful heart towards a sibling, or a friend? Yes, they may not be perfect, but love covers a multitude of sins. Their imperfections do NOT matter anymore. Do you think God hates us because of our past sins? Of COURSE not, He's forgiven us and paid the price for our sins. If we come before God and ask for forgiveness, He has forgiven us freely. But see, with a person, this is harder to do. If someone comes to you and asks forgiveness, and you know you've done them wrong as well - ask forgiveness yourself, and then forgive them. So that basically means - it doesn't matter who you are, what you've done, what they've done - when you're trying to make amends, MAKE amends, not excuses.
Here's Romans 12, and it's an AMAZING chapter to read. Read it completely, and you'll understand what we mean. It's so powerful!
1 I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. 2 And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.
3 For I say, through the grace given to me, to everyone who is among you, not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think soberly, as God has dealt to each one a measure of faith. 4 For as we have many members in one body, but all the members do not have the same function, 5 so we, being many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another. 6 Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them: if prophecy, let us prophesy in proportion to our faith; 7 or ministry, let us use it in our ministering; he who teaches, in teaching; 8 he who exhorts, in exhortation; he who gives, with liberality; he who leads, with diligence; he who shows mercy, with cheerfulness.
9 Let love be without hypocrisy. Abhor what is evil. Cling to what is good. 10 Be kindly affectionate to one another with brotherly love, in honor giving preference to one another; 11 not lagging in diligence, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord; 12 rejoicing in hope, patient in tribulation, continuing steadfastly in prayer; 13 distributing to the needs of the saints, given to hospitality.
14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep. 16 Be of the same mind toward one another. Do not set your mind on high things, but associate with the humble. Do not be wise in your own opinion.
17 Repay no one evil for evil. Have regard for good things in the sight of all men. 18 If it is possible, as much as depends on you, live peaceably with all men. 19 Beloved, do not avenge yourselves, but rather give place to wrath; for it is written, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay,”says the Lord. 20 Therefore
“ If your enemy is hungry, feed him;
If he is thirsty, give him a drink;
For in so doing you will heap coals of fire on his head.”
21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.
It's so refreshing to be comforted by words of wisdom, than by being comforted by foolish words we tell ourselves...Right?
God bless you all!
~Rachel & Jillian~
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Feb. 22, 2008 - "A Letter to my Future Husband"
This is a really sweet contribution we recieved awhile back, and included it in our summer 2006 newsletter. We later decided to put it on our website, and it became a favorite among members...
(Thank you so much Jaimie, for contributing this beautiful article! We hope it will touch others as much as it has touched us! - Rachel & Jillian)
May each of you have a blessed day!
~Rachel & Jillian~
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Feb. 15, 2008 - "Three Days To See" by Helen Keller
Just wanted to post this for yall....it's such an amazing essay. It just makes us think about how much we take for granted...
"Three Days to See"
By Helen Keller
All of us have read thrilling stories in which the hero had only a limited and specified time to live. Sometimes it was as long as a year; sometimes as short as twenty-four hours. But always we were interested in discovering just how the doomed man chose to spend his last days or his last hours. I speak, of course, of free men who have a choice, not condemned criminals whose sphere of activities is strictly delimited.
Such stories set us thinking, wondering what we should do under similar circumstances. What events, what experiences, what associations, should we crowd into those last hours as mortal beings? What happiness should we find in reviewing the past, what regrets?
Sometimes I have thought it would be an excellent rule to live each day as if we should die to-morrow. Such an attitude would emphasize sharply the values of life. We should live each day with a gentleness, a vigor, and a keenness of appreciation which are often lost when time stretches before us in the constant panorama of more days and months and years to come. There are those, of course, who would adopt the epicurean motto of 'Eat, drink, and be merry,' but most people would be chastened by the certainty of impending death.
In stories, the doomed hero is usually saved at the last minute by some stroke of fortune, but almost always his sense of values is changed. He becomes more appreciative of the meaning of life and its permanent spiritual values. It has often been noted that those who live, or have lived, in the shadow of death bring a mellow sweetness to everything they do.
Most of us, however, take life for granted. We know that one day we must die, but usually we picture that day as far in the future. When we are in buoyant health, death is all but unimaginable. We seldom think of it. The days stretch out in an endless vista. So we go about our petty tasks, hardly aware of our listless attitude toward life.
The same lethargy, I am afraid, characterizes the use of all our facilities and senses. Only the deaf appreciate hearing, only the blind realize the manifold blessings that lie in sight. Particularly does this observation apply to those who have lost sight and hearing in adult life. But those who have never suffered impairment of sight or hearing seldom make the fullest use of these blessed faculties. Their eyes and ears take in all sights and sounds hazily, without concentration and with little appreciation. It is the same old story of not being grateful for what we have until we lose it, of not being conscious of health until we are ill.
I have often thought it would be a blessing if each human being were stricken blind and deaf for a few days at some time during his early adult life. Darkness would make him more appreciative of sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound.
Now and then I have tested my seeing friends to discover what they see. Recently I was visited by a very good friend who had just returned from a long walk in the woods, and I asked her what she had observed. 'Nothing in particular,' she replied. I might have been incredulous had I not been accustomed to such responses, for long ago I became convinced that the seeing see little.
How was it possible, I asked myself, to walk for an hour through the woods and see nothing worthy of note? I who cannot see find hundreds of things to interest me through mere touch. I feel the delicate symmetry of a leaf. I pass my hands lovingly about the smooth skin of a silver birch, or the rough, shaggy bark of a pine. In spring I touch the branches of trees hopefully in search of a bud, the first sign of awakening Nature after her winter's sleep. I feel the delightful, velvety texture of a flower, and discover its remarkable convolutions; and something of the miracle of Nature is revealed to me. Occasionally, if I am very fortunate, I place my hand gently on a small tree and feel the happy quiver of a bird in full song. I am delighted to have the cool waters of a brook rush through my open fingers. To me a lush carpet of pine needles or spongy grass is more welcome than the most luxurious Persian rug. To me the pageant of seasons is a thrilling and unending drama, the action of which streams through my finger tips.
At times my heart cries out with longing to see all these things. If I can get so much pleasure from mere touch, how much more beauty must be revealed by sight. Yet, those who have eyes apparently see little. The panorama of color and action which fills the world is taken for granted. It is human, perhaps, to appreciate little that which have and to long for that which we have not, but it is a great pity that in the world of light the gift of sight is used only as a mere convenience rather than as a means of adding fullness to life.
If I were the president of a university I should establish a compulsory course in 'How to Use Your Eyes'. The professor would try to show his pupils how they could add joy to their lives by really seeing what passes unnoticed before them. He would try to awake their dormant and sluggish faculties.
II
Perhaps I can best illustrate by imagining what I should most like to see if I was given the use of my eyes, say, for just three days. And while I am imagining, suppose you, too, set your mind to work on the problem of how to work on the problem of how you would use your own eyes if you had only three days to see. If with the oncoming darkness if the third night you knew that the sun would never rise for you again, how would you spend those three intervening days? What would you most want to let your gaze rest upon?
I, naturally, should want most to see the things which have become dear to me through my years of darkness. You, too, would want to let your eyes rest long on the things that have become dear to you so that you could take the memory of them with you into the night that loomed before you.
If, by some miracle, I were granted three seeing days, to be followed by a relapse into darkness, I should divide the period into three parts.
On the first day, I should want to see the people whose kindness and gentleness and companionship have made my life worth living. First I should like to gaze long upon the face of my dear teacher, Mrs. Ann Sullivan Macy, who came to me when I was a child and opened the outer world to me. I should want not merely to see the outline of her face, so that I could cherish it in my memory, but to study that face and find in it the living evidence of the sympathetic tenderness and patience with which she accomplished the difficult task of my education. I should like to see in her eyes that strength of character which has enabled her to stand firm in the face of difficulties, and that compassion for all humanity which she has revealed to me so often.
I do not know what it is to see into the heart of a friend through that 'window of the soul,' the eye. I can only 'see' through my finger tips the outline of a face. I can detect laughter, sorrow, and many other obvious emotions. I know my friends from the feel of their faces. But I cannot really picture their personalities, of course, through the thoughts they express to me, through whatever of their actions are revealed to me. But I am denied that deeper understanding of them which I am sure would come through sight of them, through watching their reactions to various expressed and circumstances, through noting the immediate and fleeting reactions of their eyes and countenance.
Friends who are near to me I know well, because through the months and years they reveal themselves to me in all their phases; but of casual friends I have only an incomplete impression, an impression gained from handclasp, from spoken words which I take from their lips with my finger tips, or which they tap into the palm of my hand.
How much easier, how much more satisfying it is for you who can see to grasp quickly the essential qualities of another person by watching the subtleties of expression, the quiver of a muscle, the flutter of a hand. But does it ever occur to you to use your sight to see the inner nature of a friend or acquaintance? Do not most of you seeing people grasp casually the outward features of a face and let it go at that?
For instance, can you describe accurately the faces of five good friends? Some of you can, but many cannot. As an experiment, I have questioned husbands of long standing about the color of their wives' eyes, and often they express embarrassed confusion and admit that they so not know. And, incidentally, it is a chronic complaint of wives that their husbands do not notice new dresses, new hats, and changes in household arrangements.
The eyes of seeing persons soon become accustomed to the routine of their surroundings, and they actually see only the startling and spectacular. But even in viewing the most spectacular sights the eyes are lazy. Court records reveal every day how inaccurately 'eyewitnesses' see. A given event will be 'seen' in several different ways by as many witnesses. Some see more than others, but few see everything that is within the range of their vision.
Oh, the things that I should see if I had the power of sight for just three days!
The first day would be a busy one. I should call to me all my dear friends and look long into their faces, imprinting upon my mind the outward evidence of the beauty that is within them. I should let my eyes rest, too, on the face of a baby, so that I could catch a vision of the eager, innocent beauty which precedes the individuals consciousness of the conflicts which life develops.
And I should like to look into the loyal, trusting eyes of my dogs - the grave, canny little Scottie, Darkie, and the stalwart, understanding Great Dane, Helga, whose warm, tender, and playful friendships are so comforting to me.
On that busy first day I should also view the small simple things of my home. I want to see the warm colors in the rugs under my feet, the pictures on the walls, the intimate trifles that transform a house into a home. My eyes would rest respectfully on the books in raised type which I have read, but they would be more eagerly interested in the printed books which seeing people can read, for during the long night of my life the books I have read and those which have been read to me have built themselves into a great shining lighthouse, revealing to me the deepest channels of human life and the human spirit.
In the afternoon of that first seeing day, I should take a long walk in the woods and intoxicate my eyes on the beauties of the world of Nature, trying desperately to absorb in a few hours the vast splendor which is constantly unfolding itself to those who can see. On the way home from my woodland jaunt my path would lie near a farm so that I might see the patient horses ploughing in the field (perhaps I should see only a tractor!) and the serene content of men living close to the soil. And I should pray for the glory of a colorful sunset.
When dusk had fallen, I should experience the double delight of being able to see by artificial light, which the genius of man has created to extend the power of his sight when Nature decrees darkness.
In the night of that first day of sight, I should not be able to sleep, so full would be my mind of the memories of the day.
III
The next day - the second day of sight - I should arise with the dawn and see the thrilling miracle by which night is transformed into day. I should behold with awe the magnificent panorama of light with which the sun awakens the sleeping earth.
This day I should devote to a hasty glimpse of the world, past and present. I should want to see the pageant of man's progress, the kaleidoscope of the ages. How can so much compressed into one day? Through the museums, of course. Often I have visited the New York Museum of Natural History to touch with my hands many of the objects there exhibited, but I have longed to see with my eyes the condensed history of the earth and its inhabitants displayed there - animals and the races of men pictured in their native environment; gigantic carcasses of dinosaurs and mastodons which roamed the earth long before man appeared, with his tiny stature and powerful brain, to conquer the animal kingdom; realistic presentations of the processes of evolution in animals, and in the implements which man has used to fashion for himself a secure home on this planet; and a thousand and one other aspects of natural history.
I wonder how many readers of this article have viewed this panorama of the face of living things as pictured in that inspiring museum. Many, of course, have not had the opportunity, but, I am sure that many who have had the opportunity have not made use of it. There, indeed, is a place to use your eyes. You who can see can spend many fruitful days there, but I, with my imaginary three days of sight, could only take a hasty glimpse, and pass on.
My next stop would be the Metropolitan Museum of Art, for just as the Museum of Natural History reveals the material aspects of the world, so does the Metropolitan show the myriad facets of the human spirit. Throughout the history of humanity the urge to artistic expression has been almost as powerful as the urge for food, shelter, and procreation. And here, in the vast chambers of the Metropolitan Museum, is unfolded before me the spirit of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, as expressed in their art. I know well through my hands the sculptured gods and goddesses of the ancient Nile-land. I have a few copies of Parthenon friezes, and I have sensed the rhythmic beauty of charging Athenian warriors. Apollos and Venuses and the winged victory of Samothrace are friends of my finger tips. The gnarled, bearded features of Homer are dear to me, for he, too, knew blindness.
My hands have lingered upon the living marvel of Roman sculpture as well as that of later generations. I have passed my hands over a plaster cast of Michelangelo's inspiring and heroic Moses; I have sensed the power of Rodin; I have been awed by the devoted spirit of Gothic wood carving. These arts which can be touched have meaning for me, but even they were meant to be seen rather than felt, and I can only guess at the beauty which remains hidden from me. I can admire the simple lines of a Greek vase, but its figured decorations are lost to me.
So on this, my second day of sight, I should try to probe into the soul of man through his art. The things I knew through touch I should now see. More splendid still, the whole magnificent world of painting would be opened to me, from the Italian Primitives, with their serene religious devotion, to the Moderns, with their feverish visions. I should look deep into the canvases of Raphael, Leonardo Da Vinci, Titian, Rembrandt. I should want to feast my eyes upon the warm colors of Veronese, study the mysteries of El Greco, catch a new vision of Nature from Corot. Oh, there is so much rich meaning and beauty in the art of the ages for you who have eyes to see!
Upon my short visit to this temple of art I should not be able to review a fraction of that great world of art which is open to you. I should be able to get only a superficial impression. Artists tell me that for a deep and true appreciation of art one must educate the eye. One must learn from experience to weigh the merits of line, of composition, of form and color. If I had eyes, how happily would I embark upon so fascinating a study! Yet I am told that, to many of you who have eyes to see, the world of art is a dark night, unexplored and unilluminated.
It would be with extreme reluctance that I should leave the Metropolitan Museum, which contains the key to beauty - a beauty so neglected. Seeing persons, however, do not need a Metropolitan to find this key to beauty. The same key lies waiting in smaller museums, and in books on the shelves of even small libraries. But naturally, in my limited time of imaginary sight, I should choose the place where the key unlocks the greatest treasures in the shortest time.
The evening of my second day of sight I should spend at a theatre or at the movies. Even now I often attend theatrical performances of all sorts, but the action of the play must be spelled into my hand by a companion. But how I should like to see with my own eyes the fascinating figure of Hamlet, or the gusty Falstaff amid colorful Elizabethan trappings! How I should like to follow each movement of the graceful Hamlet, each strut of the hearty Falstaff! And since I could see only one play, I should be confronted by a many-horned dilemma, for there are scores of plays I should want to see. You who have eyes can see any you like. How many of you, I wonder, when you gaze at a play, a movie, or any spectacle, realize and give thanks for the miracle of sight which enables you to enjoy its color, grace, and movement?
I cannot enjoy the beauty rythmic movement except in a sphere restricted to the touch of my hands. I can vision only dimly the grace of a Pavlowa, although I know something of the delight of rhythm, for often I can sense the beat of music as it vibrates through the floor. I can well imagine that cadenced motion must be one of the most pleasing sights in the world. I have been able to gather something of this by tracing with my fingers the lines in sculptured marble; if this static grace can be so lovely, how much more acute must be the thrill of seeing grace in motion.
One of my dearest memories is of the time when Joseph Jefferson allowed me to touch his face and hands as he went through some of the gestures and speeches of his beloved Rip Van Winkle. I was able to catch thus a meager glimpse of the world of drama, and I shall never forget the delight of that moment. But, oh, how much I must miss, and how much pleasure you seeing ones can derive from watching and hearing the interplay of speech and movement in the unfolding of a dramatic performance! If I could see only one play, I should know how to picture in my mind the action of a hundred plays which I have read or had transferred to me through the medium of manual alphabet.
So, through the evening of my second imaginary day of sight, the great figures of dramatic literature would crowd sleep from my eyes.
IV
The following morning, I should again greet the dawn, anxious to discover new delights, for I am sure that, for those who have eyes which really see, the dawn of each day must be a perpetually new revelation of beauty.
This, according to the terms of my imagined miracle, is to be my third and last day of sight. I shall have no time to waste in regrets or longings; there is too much to see. The first day I devoted to my friends, animate and inanimate. The second revealed to me the history of man and Nature. To-day I shall spend in the workday world of the present, amid the haunts of men going about the business of life. And where one can find so many activities and conditions of men as in New York? So the city becomes my destination.
I start from my home in the quiet little suburb of Forest Hills, Long Island. Here, surrounded by green lawns, trees, and flowers, are neat little houses, happy with the voices and movements of wives and children, havens of peaceful rest for men who toil in the city. I drive across the lacy structure of steel which spans the East River, and I get a new and startling vision of the power and ingenuity of the mind of man. Busy boats chug and scurry about the river - racy speed, boats, stolid, snorting tugs. If I had long days of sight ahead, I should spend many of them watching the delightful activity upon the river.
I look ahead, and before me rise the fantastic towers of New York, a city that seems to have stepped from the pages of a fairy story. What an awe-inspiring sight, these glittering spires, these vast banks of stone and steel - sculptures such as the gods might build for themselves! This animated picture is a part of the lives of millions of people every day. How many, I wonder, give it so much as a second glance? Very few, I fear. Their eyes are blind to this magnificent sight because it is so familiar to them.
I hurry to the top of one of those gigantic structures, the Empire State Building, for there, a short time ago, I 'saw' the city below through the eyes of my secretary. I am anxious to compare my fancy with reality. I am sure I should not be disappointed in the panorama spread out before me, for to me it would be a vision of another world.
Now I begin my rounds of the city. First, I stand at a busy corner, merely looking at people, trying by sight of them to understand something of their lives. I see smiles, and I am happy. I see serious determination, and I am proud. I see suffering, and I am compassionate.
I stroll down Fifth Avenue. I throw my eyes out of focus, so that I see no particular object but a seething kaleidoscope of color. I am certain that the colors of women's dresses moving in a throng must be a gorgeous spectacle of which I should never tire. But perhaps if I had sight I should be like most other women - too interested in styles and the cut of individual dresses to give much attention to the splendor of color in the mass. And I am convinced, too, that I should become an inveterate window shopper, for it must be a delight to the eye to view the myriad articles of beauty on display.
From Fifth Avenue I make a tour of the city - to Park Avenue, to the slums, to factories, to parks where children play. I take a stay-at-home trip abroad by visiting the foreign quarters. Always my eyes are open wide to all the sights of both happiness and misery so that I may probe deep and add to my understanding of how people work and live. My heart is full of the images of people and things. My eye passes lightly over no single trifle; it strives to touch and hold closely each thing its gaze rests upon. Some sights are pleasant, filling the heart with happiness; but some are miserably pathetic. To these latter I do not shut my eyes, for they, too are part of life. To close the eye on them is to close the heart and mind.
My third day of sight is drawing to an end. Perhaps there are many serious pursuits to which I should devote the few remaining hours, but I am afraid that on the evening of that last day I should run away to the theatre, to a hilariously funny play, so that I might appreciate the overtones of comedy in the human spirit.
At midnight my temporary respite from blindness would cease, and permanent night would close in on me again. Naturally in those three short days I should not have seen all I wanted to see. Only when darkness had again descended upon me should I realize how much I had left unseen. But my mind would be so overcrowded with glorious memories that I should have little time for regrets. Thereafter the touch of every object would bring a glowing memory of how that object looked.
Perhaps this short outline of how I should spend three days of sight does not agree with the programme you would set for yourself if you knew that you were about to be stricken blind. I am, however, sure that if you actually faced that fate your eyes would open to things you had never seen before, storing up memories for the long night ahead. You would use your eyes as never before. Everything you saw would become dear to you. Your eyes would touch and embrace every object that came within your range of vision. Then, at last, you would really see, and a new world of beauty would open itself before you.
I who am blind can give one hint to those who see - one admonition to those who would make full use of the gift of sight: Use your eyes as if tomorrow you would be stricken blind. And the same method can be applied to other senses. Hear the music of voices, the song of a bird, the mighty strains of an orchestra, as if you would be stricken deaf to-morrow. Touch each object you want to touch as if tomorrow your tactile sense would fail. Smell the perfume of flowers, taste with relish each morsel, as if tomorrow you could never smell and taste again. Make the most of every sense; glory in all the facets of pleasure and beauty which the world reveals to you through the several means of contact which Nature provides. But of all the senses, I am sure that sight must be the most delightful.
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Feb. 8, 2008 - Interesting Video...
Surfing the web, I came across this video (part of one of his sermons). I just wanted to post it on here, as a reminder to be CAREFUL what you believe. Even when it's coming from a powerful "God-filled" source sometimes, it can be deceptive.
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Jan. 24, 2008 - Of the Imitation of Christ
Hey Everyone,
Here is an excerpt from "The Imitation of Christ" by Thomas à Kempis. It's really a great concept to keep in your mind...
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Of the Imitation of Christ
Thomas à Kempis
He that follows Me shall not walk in darkness, says the Lord (John 8:12).
These are the words of Christ, by which we are urged to imitate His life and virtues, if we wish to be truly enlightened and freed from all blindness of heart.
Therefore, let it be our chief business to meditate upon the life of Jesus Christ.
The teaching of Christ excels all the teachings of the saints; and if a man have His spirit, he shall find therein a hidden manna.
But it so happens that many hear the Gospel frequently and are little affected, because they lack the spirit of Christ.
If you would understand Christ's words fully and taste them truly, you must strive to form your whole life after His pattern.
What good do you get by disputing learnedly about the Trinity, if you be lacking in humility and are therefore displeasing to the Trinity?
Verily, sublime words do not make a man holy and just; it is a virtuous life that makes him dear to God.
I would rather feel compunction than know how to define it.
If you knew the whole Bible by heart, and the sayings of all the philosophers, what would all that profit you without the love of God and His grace?
Vanity of vanities and all is vanity (Ecclesiastes 1:2), except loving God and serving Him only.
This is the highest wisdom: to despise the world and aim at the Kingdom of Heaven.
It is vanity there for to seek perishable riches and to rely on them.
It is vanity also to pursue honours and raise yourself to a high dignity.
It is vanity to follow the lusts of the flesh and to desire what which hereafter will bring greievous punishment.
It is vanity to wish for a long life and care little about a good life.
It is vanity to attend only to the present life and not to be hastening thither where abides everlasting joy.
Often call to mind the proverb: The eye is not sated with seeing, nor is the ear filled with hearing (Ecclesiastes 1:8).
Study therefore to wean your heart from the love of visible things, and to attend rather to things invisible. For the man who indulges his sensual nature, sullies his concience and loses the grace of God.
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Jan. 19, 2008 - ~Certificate of Purity~
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