Showing posts with label Monday Musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Monday Musings. Show all posts

Monday, June 1, 2015

God is at the window !

Welcome to 129th Monday Musings !





There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm.

He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods; but he could never hit the target.




Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner.

As he was walking back he saw Grandma’s pet duck.

Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head and killed it.

He was shocked and grieved!

In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile; only to see his Sister watching!

Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing.

After lunch the next day Grandma said, “Sally, let’s wash the dishes” But Sally said, “Grandma, Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen.”

Then she whispered to him, “Remember the duck?’

So Johnny did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, ‘I’m sorry but I need Sally to help make supper.

Sally just smiled and said, “well that’s all right because Johnny told me he wanted to help?”

She whispered again, “Remember the duck?”

So Sally went fishing and Johnny stayed to help.

After several days of Johnny doing both his chores and Sally’s; he Finally couldn’t stand it any longer.

He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck.


Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, “Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but I have forgiven you, because I love you”

I was just wondering how long you would let Sally make a slave of you.


Moral of the story:

Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done ? And the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc…)  Whatever it is, You need to know that:



God was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing. He has seen your whole life and He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven.

He’s just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The great thing about God is that when you ask for forgiveness;

He not only forgives you, but He forgets. It is by God’s grace and mercy that we are saved.


Go ahead and make the difference in someone’s life today.





Make it a great Week !


Shailesh

Monday, May 25, 2015

The Cockroach Theory - Response Vs Reaction !

Welcome to 128th Monday Musings !

This is beautiful speech by Sundar Pichai who is a senior executive at Google, sharing with you the same.


At a restaurant, a cockroach suddenly flew from somewhere and sat on a lady.

She started screaming out of fear. With a panic stricken face and trembling voice, she started jumping, with both her hands desperately trying to get rid of the cockroach.

Her reaction was contagious, as everyone in her group also got panicky.

The lady finally managed to push the cockroach away but …it landed on another lady in the group.

Now, it was the turn of the other lady in the group to continue the drama.

The waiter rushed forward to their rescue.

In the relay of throwing, the cockroach next fell upon the waiter.

The waiter stood firm, composed himself and observed the behavior of the cockroach on his shirt.

When he was confident enough, he grabbed it with his fingers and threw it out of the restaurant.

Sipping my coffee and watching the amusement, the antenna of my mind picked up a few thoughts and started wondering, was the cockroach responsible for their histrionic behavior?

If so, then why was the waiter not disturbed?

He handled it near to perfection, without any chaos.

It is not the cockroach, but the inability of the ladies to handle the disturbance caused by the cockroach that disturbed the ladies.

I realized that, it is not the shouting of my father or my boss or my wife that disturbs me, but it’s my inability to handle the disturbances caused by their shouting that disturbs me.

It’s not the traffic jams on the road that disturbs me, but my inability to handle the disturbance caused by the traffic jam that disturbs me.

More than the problem, it’s my reaction to the problem that creates chaos in my life.


Moral of the story :

I understood, I should not react in life. I should always respond. The women reacted, whereas the waiter responded.

Reactions are always instinctive whereas responses are always well thought of.



A match stick has a head but not a brain, It burns with a small friction

however we have both head and brain, and whenever situation arises we should use our brain.

Remember

Respond, Don’t React


Make it a great Week !


Shailesh

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Mother’s Day

Welcome to 126th Monday Musings !


Yesterday being ‘Mother’s Day’, and This week being mothers’ week, I am dedicating this Monday Musing to all mothers .


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A man stopped at a flower shop to order some flowers to be wired to his mother who lived two hundred miles away.

As he got out of his car he noticed a young girl sitting on the curb sobbing.

He asked her what was wrong

and she replied, "I wanted to buy a red rose for my mother. But I only have seventy-five cents, and a rose costs two dollars."

The man smiled and said, "Come with me. I'll buy you a rose."

He bought the little girl her rose and ordered his own mother's flowers.

As they were leaving he offered the girl a ride home.

She said, "Yes, please! You can take me to my mother."

She directed him to a cemetery, where she placed the rose on a freshly dug grave.

The man returned to the flower shop, canceled the wire order, picked up a bouquet and drove the two hundred miles to his mother's house.


Moral of the story :

The most beautiful necklace a mother can wear is not gold or gems, but her child’s arm around her neck (This can never be replaced by flowers), for those of you who are lucky to be still blessed with your Mom’s presence on Earth Make sure see gets it.
It didn’t take long man to realize that How loving is that girl, who after death of her mother gave her a flower and how stupid he was sending wired flowers to his mother though she is alive.
The most beautiful person on this earth, our best critic, yet our strongest supporter, "M o t h e r"



It takes a Mother's Love, to make a house a home,
A place to be remembered, no matter where we roam.

It takes a Mother's Patience, to bring a child up right,
And her Courage and her Cheerfulness to make a dark day bright.

It takes a Mother's Thoughtfulness to mend the heart's deep "hurts,"
And her Skill and her Endurance to mend little socks and shirts.

It takes a Mother's Kindness to forgive us when we err,
To sympathize in trouble and bow her head in prayer.

It takes a Mother's Wisdom to recognize our needs
And to give us reassurance by her loving words and deeds.

It takes a Mother's Endless Faith,  her Confidence and Trust
To guide us through the pitfalls of selfishness and lust.

And that is why in all this world there could not be another

Who could fulfil God's purpose

as completely as a MOTHER!


Make it a great Week !


Shailesh

Monday, December 24, 2012

Hope !

Welcome to 72nd Monday Musings:

This is known as real Christmas miracle story, happened in December 1997 in Wisconsin, USA.

A little girl named Sarah had leukemia and was not expected to live to see Christmas. Her brother and grandmother went to the mall to ask Mark Lenonard who was a professional Santa Claus to visit the hospital to give Sarah the gift of hope through encouragement and prayer.

A year later Sarah surprised Santa by showing up at the mall where he worked. Here goes the story.



A little boy and his grandmother came to see Santa at The Mayfair Mall in Wisconsin.

The child climbed up on Santa’s lap, holding a picture of a little girl.

“Who is this?” – asked Santa, smiling. “Your friend? Your sister?”

“Yes, Santa.” – he replied.

“My sister, Sarah, who is very sick.” – he said sadly.

Santa glanced over at the grandmother who was waiting nearby and saw her dabbing her eyes with a tissue.

“She wanted to come with me to see you, oh, so very much, Santa!” – the child exclaimed.

“She misses you.” – he added softly.

Santa tried to be cheerful and encouraged a smile to the boy’s face, asking him what he wanted Santa to bring him for Christmas. When they finished their visit, the grandmother came over to help the child off his lap,

and started to say something to Santa, but halted.

“What is it?” – Santa asked warmly.

“Well, I know it’s really too much to ask you, Santa, but ..” – the old woman began, shooing her grandson over to one of Santa’s elves to collect the little gift which Santa gave all his young visitors.

The girl in the photograph… my granddaughter well, you see … she has leukemia and isn’t expected to make it even through the holidays.” – she said through tear-filled eyes.

“Is there anyway, Santa, any possible way that you could come see Sarah? That’s all she’s asked for, for Christmas, is to see Santa.”

Santa blinked and swallowed hard and told the woman to leave information with his elves as to where Sarah was, and he would see what he could do.

He thought with a sinking heart, “This is the least I can do.”

When Santa finished visiting with all the boys and girls that evening, He asked Rick, the assistant location manager how to get to Children’s Hospital.

“Common….I’ll take you there.” – Rick said softly.

Rick drove them to the hospital and came inside with Santa. They found out which room Sarah was in.

Santa quietly peeked into the room through the half-closed door and saw little Sarah on the bed.

The room was full of what appeared to be her family; there was the grandmother and the girl’s brother he had met earlier that day.

A woman whom he guessed was Sarah’s mother stood by the bed, gently pushing Sarah’s thin hair off her forehead. Santa could sense the warmth and closeness of the family, and their love and concern for Sarah.

Taking a deep breath, and forcing a smile on his face, Santa entered the room, bellowing a hearty, “Ho, ho, ho!”

“Santa!” – shrieked little Sarah weakly, as she tried to escape her bed to run to him.

Santa rushed to her side and gave her a warm hug. A child the tender age of his own son — 9 years old — gazed up at him with wonder and excitement.

Her skin was pale and her short tresses bore telltale bald patches from the effects of chemotherapy. But all he saw when he looked at her was a pair of huge, blue eyes.

His heart melted, and he had to force himself to choke back tears.

Though his eyes were riveted upon Sarah’s face, he could hear the gasps and quiet sobbing of the women in the room.

As he and Sarah began talking, the family crept quietly to the bedside one by one, squeezing Santa’s shoulder or his hand gratefully, whispering “Thank you” as they gazed sincerely at him with shining eyes.

Santa and Sarah talked and talked, and she told him excitedly all the toys she wanted for Christmas, assuring him she’d been a very good girl that year.

As their time together dwindled, Santa felt led in his spirit to pray for Sarah, and asked for permission from the girl’s mother.

She nodded in agreement and the entire family circled around Sarah’s bed, holding hands.

Santa looked intensely at Sarah and asked her if she believed in angels, “Oh, yes, Santa… I do!” – she exclaimed.

“Well, I’m going to ask that angels watch over you.” – he said.

Laying one hand on the child’s head, Santa closed his eyes and prayed. He asked that God touch little Sarah, and heal her body from this disease.

He asked that angels minister to her, watch and keep her. And when he finished praying, still with eyes closed, he started singing, softly, “Silent Night, Holy Night…. all is calm, all is bright…”

The family joined in, still holding hands, smiling at Sarah, and crying tears of hope, tears of joy for this moment, as Sarah beamed at them all.

When the song ended, Santa sat on the side of the bed again and held Sarah’s frail, small hands in his own.

“Now, Sarah,” – he said authoritatively, “

you have a job to do, and that is to concentrate on getting well. I want you to have fun playing with your friends this summer, and I expect to see you at my house at Mayfair Mall this time next year!”

He knew it was risky proclaiming that to this little girl who had terminal cancer, but he ‘had’ to. He had to give her the greatest gift he could —

not dolls or games or toys — but the gift of HOPE.


“Yes, Santa!” – Sarah exclaimed, her eyes bright.

He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead and left the room.

Sarah’s mother and grandmother slipped out of the room quickly and rushed to Santa’s side to thank him.

“My only child is the same age as Sarah.” – he explained quietly. “This is the least I could do.”

They nodded with understanding and hugged him.

One year later,

Santa was again back on the set in Milwaukee for his six-week, seasonal job which he so loves to do. Several weeks went by and then one day a child came up to sit on his lap.

“Hi, Santa! Remember me?!”  “Of course, I do.” – Santa proclaimed (as he always does), smiling down at her.

After all, the secret to being a ‘good’ Santa is to always make each child feel as if they are the ‘only’ child in the world at that moment.

“You came to see me in the hospital last year!”

Santa’s jaw dropped. Tears immediately sprang in his eyes, and he grabbed this little miracle and held her to his chest.

“Sarah!” – he exclaimed. He scarcely recognized her, for her hair was long and silky and her cheeks were rosy — much different from the little girl he had visited just a year before.

He looked over and saw Sarah’s mother and grandmother in the sidelines smiling and waving and wiping their eyes.

That was the best Christmas ever for Santa Claus.

He had witnessed –and been blessed to be instrumental in bringing about — this miracle of hope.

This precious little child was healed. Cancer-free. Alive and well. He silently looked up to Heaven and humbly whispered, “Thank you, Father. ‘Tis a very, Merry Christmas!



Moral of the story :

“Life begins at the End of you comfort zone, keep alive your HOP(Have Only Positive Expectation)”





“The Life at the End of tunnel is your life, It’s the tunnel that’s temporary”,  HOPitself is described has Hang On Pain Ends.


It was only the power of hope and faith, by which precious little child was healed, Cancer free and alive…


Make it a great Week & Merry Christmas!

Shailesh