Spoken Word Messages - Page 47

The birth of a child brings joyful noise into a home.  And then, a score of years later, the silence after his departure is filled with memories: thoughts, images, and whispers of years gone by.  The child, who just yesterday slept in a bassinet, now enters college; the son, who a few days ago scuffed knees climbing trees, now accepts a job across the country; the daughter, who only last week cried in her father’s lap, now has children of her own to console.  We lovingly bring children in and, what seems like a few years later, watch them leave.  In one great round, parents embrace their children and then love them enough to let them go.

A newborn baby laid in its mother’s arms is a bundle of potentialities.  For one so small, knowing little and recognizing even less, it will take an artist’s eye, an eye born of hope and love, to trace the child’s possibilities.

In the days when people depended upon sheep for food and clothing, village shepherds often gathered their flocks into a single sheepfold at night.  Once the sheep were gathered in, one of the shepherds could stand watch at the gate and protect the sheep from predators.  In the morning the other shepherds returned, and each called to his flock.  The sheep, recognizing the voice of their own shepherd, would follow their master.  In this way, the sheep were separated and taken to pastures for the day’s grazing.

In our daily opportunities to give help to others, do we measure our efforts in terms of their immediate results or by whether we did all that we could to serve those around us? Our efforts need not be expensive or well publicized. We can bless the lives of others through seemingly small, well-intentioned acts of generosity and love.

Perhaps the most enduring and important theme in all the world’s great literature is the search for home. From the great epic poems of antiquity to the most important plays and novels of our century, writers have depicted heroes lost and far from their loved ones, lonely and desperate for the refuge and comfort of home. Odysseus, the ancient Greek hero, was celebrated for his courage and good sense, but when we read of his journeys, we are most touched by his longing for his beloved wife, Penelope, and his agony over their long separation.

It was Thomas Carlyle who penned the words: “Music is well said to be the speech of angels.”1 One important duty of angels is to watch over us. Interestingly, music at times has assumed that divine duty. When part of our lives, music can help us in time of need. Parents who teach their children songs that lift their souls and fill them with joy and comfort may not realize the literal saving power of such a song.

Every spring we celebrate a newness of life. We rejoice over blossoms that have kept their promise; we cheer for saplings that have survived winter’s frost; and we marvel at the animal kingdom newly replenished.

As a service project, a college student undertook to raise a puppy for a guide dog organization.  Her job was to feed, exercise, socialize, and give basic obedience training to the puppy for a year.  After that, the dog would receive additional training by the organization and then be given to a person with special needs.  Though she had previously raised many puppies, the young woman found that she was much more careful and particular with this dog, because he was not really hers.  She was a caretaker, a steward, and keenly felt her responsibility for the puppy temporarily entrusted to her.

Wouldn’t it be marvelous if we could see into another person’s heart and know exactly how he feels?  Instead of grappling with words and language to try to understand each other, we could simply read each other’s thoughts.  Such dreams are the stuff of science fiction.  No matter how well we think we know someone, we can really only guess at what another person feels.

A traveler, walking along a forest path, comes across an intricately woven tapestry lying on the ground.  After much effort, the traveler determines how the pattern was woven.  Is it possible for that traveler to focus entirely on the tapestry without ever once wondering about the one who created it?

Choosing the right road at the beginning of a journey will more likely ensure reaching the right destination.  A man boarded a bus with the clear intention of going to a large eastern city.  At the end of a long trip, he found himself not in the East but in another city far south.  He had taken the wrong bus.  He knew where he wanted to go before he started the journey, but alighting at the destination, he found himself somewhere else.  He discovered that choosing the beginning of a road, even if by mistake, is also choosing the place where it leads.

Sometimes, in order to get along with those around us, we find ourselves in situations where we need to compromise.  And yet, there are also times when we need to take a stand, define our position, and refuse to back down.  When it comes to questions of personal integrity—to those beliefs which most define us—we need to be willing to say, forcefully and firmly:  “I will not compromise on this issue.  This is my position.”  And then accept whatever consequences result.

During some of World War II’s darkest days, Winston Churchill inspired his countrymen with these words:  “Let us . . . brace ourselves to our duties, and so bear ourselves that if the British Empire . . . last for a thousand years, men will still say:  ‘This was their finest hour.’ ”1  Be our circumstances what they may, we too can live each day trying to find our finest hour.

We have long known the power of the written word.  Through their writings, historians  preserve the events that shape the destiny of nations.  Poets write words that blissfully lift us above the mundane business of life into thoughtful reverie.  Novelists, with the magic of their words, transport us into paths of excitement and intrigue.  Philosophers and statesmen motivate millions to nobler actions with their written words.  Most significantly, words recorded in sacred scriptural writings open our view to the purpose of life and how to live it to the fullest.  There is indeed great power in the written word.

In the days when sailors depended upon wind to carry them to their destinations, it was not uncommon to hear that someone was “sailing by ash breeze.”  The phrase referred to the fact that, when winds died out, sailors often progressed toward their destination by rowing.  Oars, at the time, were often made of ash wood; therefore, the term “sailing by ash breeze” meant progressing by one’s own toil and labor.

Sometimes endings bring sadness, longing, even regret.  Whether finishing an especially good book we wish were longer, winding up a vacation that we would like to prolong, or facing the greater challenge of saying good-bye to a loved one, we often feel downcast by the end of things.

Life may seem to flow on steadily, the same as it’s always been.  But if we look back and review what life was like years ago, we see that there are dramatic differences.

Treating others with respect is an important and timeless virtue.  Beginning with something as fundamental as the Golden Rule, respect is among the most essential values of life.  It is known by many names:  common courtesy, civility, esteem; but the simple definition taught to children is perhaps the most meaningful—treat others as you’d like to be treated.

Families have become increasingly far-flung in recent years.  Once, children typically grew up in one home and then, upon reaching adulthood, moved not too far down the lane.  Today’s families often end up scattered across counties, countries, and continents.

How difficult it is to forgive those who have injured us.  When we have been wounded, anger, silence, or bitter words can be the weapons that keep quarrels alive.  But there is no peace in the nursing of a grudge.

Great nations are made of great people, willing to be inconvenienced and ready to defend the liberties they hold dear.  The constitution, government, natural resources, or historic victories alone cannot ensure freedom or prosperity.  Ultimately, a nation’s strength and promise are found in its people.

The port city of Barcelona, rimmed by the bright blues of Mediterranean sea and sky, offers her citizens and visitors alike a sumptuous visual feast.  In particular, the stunningly unique architecture of this grand city—from the ancient Barcelona cathedral in the heart of the Gothic Quarter to the famous modernist church known as Sagrada Familia—continues to capture the eye and hold the heart of all who linger here.

What is the spirit of Geneva? What magic has made the name of this city on a lake a byword for peace? We speak of “the Geneva accords” and “the Geneva conventions”—the word itself has come to stand for a process of mediation and compromise, the reasonable resolution of unreasonable disputes. Robert de Traz describes the “spirit of Geneva” as “a practical, down-to-earth belief that peace does not come through major declarations . . . but rather through hard, unglamourous work . . . cooperation in a hundred different areas . . . expecting no miracles.”1

It’s impossible to visit London and not be mesmerized by the magic of this city. As poets and writers have flocked here to write stories that are loved worldwide, we have all come to know London’s streets and spires, her clock towers and cathedrals, her palaces and cottages—owning them, in a way, as we own favorite authors and books.

Because we have all felt sadness and sorrow from time to time, we can learn the ability empathize with others. Although our individual difficulties are unique, feelings of disappointment, loss, and suffering are universal. Yes, we may not have been in the same situation or have experienced the precise problem of another, but we have all felt the sharpness of pain, the heaviness of heartache.

The lily, a flower celebrated in both scripture and song, is known throughout the world for its exquisite grace and beauty.

Life teaches us some of its most important lessons by forcing us to learn to say goodbye. At almost every stage of mortality, the nature of life itself causes us to move ahead—sometimes without the people, the places, and the capacities we once enjoyed. Because such events are inevitable for all of us, we must develop the faith and the fortitude to be stretched and strengthened each time life asks us to say goodbye.

A woman vacationing with her children was convinced by them to visit a popular tourist attraction—a cave filled with many wonders of nature. She had experienced the trauma of claustrophobia in the past and was hesitant to go in with her children. Since they were in their teens and a guide was leading the tour through the cave, she knew they would be safe and decided it would be best if she waited outside. The children were disappointed. They wanted her to be with them to enjoy the beauty of the cave. They persisted with their encouragement until she consented to join them. After traveling several minutes inside the cave, she began to feel as if the walls were closing in on her. In near panic, she froze in her tracks and said to her children, “I can’t go on.” One of her sons replied: “Mom, look up. See the light coming through that hole? Just look up at that light and you’ll be okay.” As she looked up at the light, the panic left, and she was able to continue on with them.

The world, in all its wisdom, has yet to adequately describe the noblest position and responsibility in the world—that of being a mother. We tend to lack the ability to explain the significance of motherhood; but, when we think of our own mother, we easily recognize what she is to us. We realize that she is at the very core of our existence.

Life is rich with symbolism. If we look carefully, evidence of God’s love is all around us. The very passing of time—as night unfolds into dawn—reminds us that, even in our darkest hour, we can know that despair will not last forever and morning will surely come.