Posts tagged ‘story’

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January 25, 2012

FW: The Man & the Lighthouse

There was in a certain city a harbor where ships from all over the world would come and dock. However, the harbor was in between a treacherous and rocky shore. During stormy nights, ships would see the city lights off in the distance and head toward the lights hoping to find refuge from the pounding surf.

The ships would struggle against the storm as they made their way to the safety of the harbor. As they drew near, seeing the dangerous rocks, the captain of the ship would try to turn and avoid striking the rocks but it was too late. Many ships were destroyed and hundreds of sailors lost their lives because they did not know of the danger. You see, the people of the city did not feel that it was necessary to build a lighthouse. Besides, it would cost too much money to build a lighthouse they reasoned. So year after year and storm after storm ships would be ship wrecked and many lives lost.

There was a man in that city that saw the need. He felt grief and heartache because the people of the city were content to let the ships be destroyed and were not willing to rescue the drowning sailors. So he took it upon himself to do something about it. He tried to recruit volunteers to help him but no one wanted to. He persisted, looking for someone to help him, but they all just laughed at him and said that he was crazy to risk his life to try to save strangers and people who looked different.

Determined to make a difference, he sold everything that he had and bought a piece of land close to the shore and built his house there. It was a lighthouse.

So during stormy nights, the man would make sure that the light from the lighthouse was shining as bright as it could so the ships could be warned of the dangerous rocks. His lighthouse saved hundreds of lives and ships from being ship wrecked that year. But it wasn’t enough because even with the lighthouse some of the storms were so powerful that the ships struggling to come into the harbor were tossed about by the wind and the waves that they would get smashed against the rocks.

Being a compassionate man, he would run to the roaring sea at the risk of his own life to rescue as many sailors as he could. Then he would bring them into the warmth and safety of the lighthouse. Once there he would heal their wounds and feed them until they were able to sail again.

The man labored by himself for years rescuing sailors and caring for their needs. Each person that he saved was so grateful to him that they couldn’t thank him enough for rescuing them from certain death. But all the man could feel was sadness because many more sailors died in the sea than he could save. “If only I had help,” he would say. “If only someone would see the need as I do and come and help. Lord please send someone to help, I can’t do it all by myself,” he prayed.

Then one day it happened, his prayers were answered. His generosity became well known in the land. People in the city began to volunteer to come and help the man keep vigil during stormy nights. Men began to take shifts keeping watch and helping rescue sailors. Then women started cooking and preparing bandages for the wounded sailors. The children did whatever they could to help lift the spirits of the sick.

Ships still wreck along the treacherous shoreline, but now because there are so many people there to help the man, many more lives are saved than are lost. Together everyone accomplished much. Together they made a difference.

by Danny Lizarraga

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November 19, 2011

FW: The Inconvenient Soldier

A story is told about a soldier who was finally coming home after having fought in Vietnam.

He called his parents from San Francisco.

“Mom and Dad, I’m coming home, but I’ve got a favor to ask. I have a friend I’d like to bring with me.”

“Sure,” they replied, “we’d love to meet him.”

“There’s something you should know the son continued, “he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mined and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live.”

“No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us.”

“Son,” said the father, “you don’t know what you’re asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can’t let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He’ll find a way to live on his own.”

At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him.

A few days later, however, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building, they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identify the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn’t know, their son had only one arm and one leg.

The parents in this story are like many of us. We find it easy to love those who are good-looking or fun to have around, but we don’t like people who inconvenience us or make us feel uncomfortable. We would rather stay away from people who aren’t as healthy, beautiful, or smart as we are.

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October 16, 2011

FW: Survival Day by Day

It’s a nightly tradition. After evening prayers are said, dishes washed, and my three daughters and one son have drifted off into a quiet slumber, I walk into three-year-old Catherine’s room as she peacefully rests. Like many fathers, I look at my beautiful daughter with a mixture of awe and gratitude, thanking God for such a precious gift. The sight of her chest rising and falling with her breath gives my wife Becky and me the ease to go to sleep ourselves.

Catherine, the youngest of our children, was a home-birth baby. In the first year of her life she seemed remarkably healthy. At fourteen months, Catherine’s health unexpectedly and drastically changed. She was irritable and run down so initially we wondered if it was teething or a virus. Catherine began drinking water and urinating constantly. It got to the point that we had to change her diaper and pajamas at least once during the night. We set up a doctor’s appointment. Throughout the day of the appointment, I carried her around the house. She was hardly moving and could barely raise her head off of my shoulder.

I stayed home with the other three children while my wife took her to the doctor’s office. Upon arriving in the doctor’s office, the nurses took one look at her and immediately moved her to the front of the line. As my wife describing the symptoms, the nurse took one of her used diapers and ran a glucose test on the urine. “You need to take her to the hospital immediately,” she told Becky, “We think she has the onset of diabetes.”

My wife called me from the doctor’s office to tell me what had just transpired. As my wife described what they had told her, tears welled up in my eyes. I had worked in a camp for children with diabetes a few years earlier. I was familiar with the condition and knew what it meant for a fifteen-month-old baby to have it. My mind swirled realizing how this would change everything as I quickly arranged for a neighbor to watch the other kids so I could meet Becky at the hospital.

We walked into the emergency room together with Catherine. Once again, Catherine was moved to the front of the line. After drawing her blood and starting an IV they pointed out that she was having small seizures from her extremely high blood sugar. She spent the next two days in the intensive care unit while Becky and I took turns watching over her twenty-four hours a day. I called everyone I knew asking them to please pray for our little girl. Catherine was put on every prayer chain we could think to contact.

We watched anxiously as her small face began to improve and the little girl we loved so much began to return. On her third day in the hospital, one of the nurses brought in a little red wagon filled with stuffed animals and toys. We loaded her in and wheeled a much healthier looking Catherine into a room in the pediatric wing.

In the four days Catherine spent there, Becky and I became experts on the disease. We learned how to monitor her blood sugar levels. Our daughter would depend dearly on us using our knowledge with precision.

Diabetes is an extremely intense disease to deal with in a small child, because you cannot predict when and how much they are going to eat. It requires constant vigilance of testing blood sugar to make sure it does not get too high or too low. There is no room for error. Too high and she could face long term damage such as kidney failure, amputations, loss of feeling, or loss of eyesight. Too low, and she could pass out, have a seizure or even go into a coma and die.

Medical conditions and dealing with them are part of our family’s life now. Since the diagnosis of her condition, all of my other three children have been diagnosed with some sort of autoimmune diseases. As fathers, we all have fears for our children, both for the present and the future. For my daughter Catherine, a very tangible fear is present on a daily basis. If I don’t make sure she has eaten her food after an injection, then she could end up sick at the very least or even have a reaction that poses a significant threat to her life.

For her, the world is a very dangerous place. Things we take for granted-like sneaking an extra few cookies or skipping lunch, can seriously harm her. It is humbling to realize how little control we sometimes have over small things that carry great importance. My wife works in the nutritional supplement industry and there are some in her industry who think that taking the right supplements can cure almost anything. With diabetes there is nothing you can do to stop it. It leaves us with only one perspective; God is in control here. In the end, it is the same for all of us. We can do our best in whatever situation we are placed, but in the end, our life is beyond our control so we best rest in the Lord.

So we pray for her condition often and we pray that some day a cure will be found. And in the meantime, we trust that God does not do things without a reason. He gave us our wonderful daughter, and we know that despite her condition she is perfect in his eyes.

- Chris Cash

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October 9, 2011

FW: A New Pair of Shoes

When I got sober my sponsor told me that I had to be willing to change everything about my life—everything. So, I wore blue jeans and switched to slacks. I wore western shirts and switched to T-shirts. But the one thing I just couldn’t give up was my cowboy boots.

I went to my sponsor and said, “Surely I won’t get drunk over a silly pair of cowboy boots. I’m willing to change a lot of things, and if needed I could even give up those boots, but it seems so silly.”

My sponsor said, “I don’t know how silly it is, or if you’ll get drunk over those cowboy boots, but I can tell that you are not ‘entirely’ willing, though.”

“Okay, okay,” I said. “I’ll prove it to you. I’ll give up the boots for 30 days just to demonstrate my willingness to God.”

So, I bought a pair of tennis shoes, and after 30 days of not wearing my cowboy boots, wearing tennis shoes instead, the strangest thing happened — my feet stopped hurting.

That’s how it was getting sober and giving up the high life. I never stopped to think that the boots were causing my feet to hurt, or the booze was causing my life to hurt. I got willing to give up the stuff, one day at a time, for 30 days, then 60 days, then 90 days … and my life stopped hurting.

And everyday I do something different, some change in some small way. Maybe I just put my socks on different, or drive to work a new way. Everyday, I try to do Little Things in a Big Way so that when Big Things happen I can handle them in a Little Way.

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October 8, 2011

FW: A Flight of Assumptions

His request approved, the news photographer quickly used a cell phone to call the local airport to charter a flight.

He was told a twin-engine plane would be waiting for him at the airport.

Arriving at the airfield, he spotted a plane warming up outside a hanger. He jumped in with his bag, slammed the door shut, and shouted, “Lets go.”

The pilot taxied out, swung the plane into the wind and took off. Once in the air, the photographer instructed the pilot, “Fly over the valley and make low passes so I can take pictures of the fires on the hillsides.”

“Why?” asked the pilot.

“Because I’m a photographer for the news,” he responded, “and I need to get some close up shots.”

The pilot was strangely silent for a moment, finally he stammered,

“So, what you’re telling me, is . . . You’re NOT my flight instructor?”

Moral of the Story: NEVER assume—ALWAYS ask
.

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October 7, 2011

FW: The 10¢ Mistake

When young F. W. Woolworth was a store clerk, he tried to convince his boss to have a ten-cent sale to reduce inventory.

The boss agreed, and the idea was a resounding success. This inspired Woolworth to open his own store and price items at a nickel and a dime. He needed capital for such a venture, so he asked his boss to supply the capital for part interest in the store.

His boss turned him down flat. “The idea is too risky,” he told Woolworth. “There are not enough items to sell for five and ten cents.” Woolworth went ahead without his boss’s backing and he not only was successful in his first store, but eventually he owned a chain of F. W. Woolworth stores across the nation. Later, his former boss was heard to remark, “As far as I can figure out, every word I used to turn Woolworth down cost me about a million dollars.”

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September 9, 2011

FW: The Important Mouse Trap

A mouse looked through a crack in the wall to see the farmer and his wife opening a package; what food might it contain?

He was aghast to discover that it was a mouse trap!

Retreating to the farmyard, the mouse proclaimed the warning, “There is a mouse trap in the house, there is a mouse trap in the house.”

The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said, “Mr. Mouse, I can tell you this is a grave concern to you, but it is of no consequence to me; I cannot be bothered by it.”

The mouse turned to the pig and told him, “There is a mouse trap in the house.”

“I am so very sorry Mr. Mouse,” sympathized the pig, “but there is nothing I can do about it but pray; be assured that you are in my prayers.”

The mouse turned to the cow, who sarcastically replied, “Oh no, Mr. Mouse, not a dangerous evil mouse trap; am I in grave danger?”

That very night a sound was heard throughout the house, like the sound of a mouse trap catching its prey. The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught.

In the darkness, she did not see that it was a venomous snake whose tail the trap had caught.

The snake bit the farmer’s wife.

The farmer rushed her to the hospital.

She returned home with a fever. Now everyone knows you treat a fever with fresh chicken soup, so the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup’s main ingredient.

His wife’s sickness continued so that friends and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig.

The farmer’s wife did not get well, in fact, she died, and so many people came for her funeral the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide meat for all of them to eat.

So the next time you hear that someone is facing a problem and think that it does not concern you, remember that when the least of us is threatened, we are all at risk.

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August 6, 2011

FW: A Donkey on your Back

An old fable that has been passed down for generations tells about an elderly man who was traveling with a boy and a donkey. As they walked through a village, the man was leading the donkey and the boy was walking behind.

The townspeople said the old man was a fool for not riding, so to please them he climbed up on the animal’s back. When they came to the next village, the people said the old man was cruel to let the child walk while he enjoyed the ride. So, to please them, he got off and set the boy on the animal’s back and continued on his way.

In the third village, people accused the child of being lazy for making the old man walk, and the suggestion was made that they both ride. So the man climbed on and they set off again.

In the fourth village, the townspeople were indignant at the cruelty to the donkey because he was made to carry two people.

The frustrated man was last seen carrying the donkey down the road.

Moral of the story: We can’t please everybody, and if we try we end up carrying a heavy burden. 

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June 8, 2011

FW: A Bucket of Money

One fine evening a man walked into a fast-food chicken place and bought a nine-piece bucket of chicken. He took his chicken to the park for a romantic picnic under the moonlight with his lady.

Upon reaching into the bucket, however, he received a surprise. Instead of chicken he discovered what was apparently the restaurant’s night deposit–nine thousand dollars. The young man brought the bucket back to the store and asked for his chicken in exchange for the money.

The manager, in awe of the young man’s honesty, asked for his name and told him he wanted to call the newspaper and the local news station to do a story on him. He would become a local hero, an example of honesty and morality that would inspire others!

The hungry man shrugged it off. “My date’s waiting. I just want my chicken.”

The manager’s renewed amazement over the young man’s humility almost overwhelmed him. He begged to be allowed to tell the story on the news. At this the honest man became angry with the manager and demanded his chicken.

“I don’t get it,” the manager responded. “You are an honest man in a dishonest world! This is a perfect opportunity to show the world that there are honest people still willing to take a stand for what is right. Please, give me your name and also the woman’s name. Is that your wife?”

“That’s the problem,” said the young man. “My wife is at home. The woman in the car is my girlfriend. Now let me have my chicken so I can get out of here.”

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March 15, 2011

FW: The Heavenly Fork

There was a young woman who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness and had been given three months to live. So as she was getting her things in order, she contacted her Pastor and had him come to her house to discuss certain aspects of her final wishes.

She told him which songs she wanted sung at the service, what scriptures she would like read, and what outfit she wanted to be buried in.

Everything was in order and the Pastor was preparing to leave when the young woman suddenly remembered something very important to her.

“There’s one more thing,” she said excitedly.

“What’s that ?” came the Pastor’s reply.

“This is very important,” the young woman continued. “I want to be buried with a fork in my right hand.”

The Pastor stood looking at the young woman, not knowing quite what to say.

“That surprises you, doesn’t it?” the young woman asked.

“Well, to be honest, I’m puzzled by the request,” said the Pastor.

The young woman explained. “My grandmother once told me this story, and from that time on I have always tried to pass along its message to those I love and those who are in need of encouragement. In all my years of attending socials and dinners, I always remember that when the dishes of the main course were being cleared, someone would inevitably lean over and say, ‘Keep your fork.’ It was my favorite part because I knew that something better was coming…like velvety chocolate cake or deep-dish apple pie. Something wonderful, and with substance!”

So, I just want people to see me there in that casket with a fork in my hand and I want them to wonder “What’s with the fork?’ Then I want you to tell them: “Keep your fork, the best is yet to come.”

The Pastor’s eyes welled up with tears of joy as he hugged the young woman good-bye. He knew this would be one of the last times he would see her before her death. But he also knew that the young woman had a better grasp of heaven than he did. She had a better grasp of what heaven would be like than many people twice her age, with twice as much experience and knowledge. She knew that something better was coming.

At the funeral people were walking by the young woman’s casket and they saw the cloak she was wearing and the fork placed in her right hand. Over and over, the Pastor heard the question, “What’s with the fork?”

During his message, the Pastor told the people of the conversation he had with the young woman shortly before she died. He also told them about the fork and about what it symbolized to her. He asked them to remember that the next time they reached down for their fork to know that the best is yet to come.

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