A Heart of Thankfulness

Good Morning Everyone,

The story below touched my heart today.
For those of us who have a smaller income
it is often so challenging to make ends meet.
Yet for our struggles there are struggles far
worse and more profound.

The poorest people in our country, are often
far better off than those in 3rd world countries.
I often think about all the orphans in Africa
who have lost their parents to aids. Many of
them have no one to care for them, and they
have to fend for themselves. We have no
concept of what such a existence must be like.

My husband grew up in very humble surroundings.
He never had electricity or running water in his
home, and didn't have shoes till he was almost 6.
This was right after World War 2, and people
were struggling to put their lives back together.
He had to go to work at age 14 and worked hard
daily on the docks lifting hundred pound bags
of food on his back and later working cargo ships.
It taught him a lot about the harshness of life
and how to survive early in his years.

We need to take stock of what we do have
and say a prayer of rejoicing for it and stop
indulging in the feeling sorry syndrome so
many seem to have anymore.

We need to share our resources. Whatever happened
to inviting people over you know that don't have
family around or enough to eat? Why don't we be like
the church in Acts where people learned to
share what they had with each other, and
learned the art of compassion and unselfish thinking.

Christ-like thinking. Oh God, give us a heart this
year for the needs of others. Help us not only to notice
them, but to pray fervently for them every chance we
get. Teach us a heart turned towards you, a heart
that is clean and pure, so that we may be all you
desire and useful for your kingdom.

Help us not to dwell on our sorrows and lack of,
but be thankful for what we do have, and notice
what you have done and are doing. Help us to
have a spirit of thankfulness and joy in all we do.

Remind us again, life is not about us, it is about
you. We are here to enjoy the journey, but we
are also here to be ministers of your word, in
word and deed, in actions and in spirit.

In Jesus precious name.
Amen

love
always
millie

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A HOT CUP OF COFFEE
I don't even know his name. I didn't think to ask, our encounter was so brief. But I still remember his face, and his eyes.

It was a usual, chilly morning, not much past dawn when I turned off the highway, taste buds set for a good hot cup of coffee. As I rounded the corner for the drive-up window, I saw him in the distance, crossing the barren parking lot. It was foggy, damp and drizzly, and he wore only denims. He headed straight to the dumpster, but found it within its own fortress, locked behind tall gates.

I hastily ordered an extra cup of coffee and a couple of breakfast sandwiches, hoping he hadn't gotten too far. As I pulled around, my gaze scanned the area until I saw him on the far side by the shopping mall. I wondered where he might be heading now.

As I pulled up along side, I lowered my window and called out, "Hey son," and told him I'd brought him a little breakfast.
His humble reply surprised me, "No, you keep that, you bought it for yourself."

"Oh," I said, "I got some for myself, too. This is for you."
He hesitated as he came up to the car to take the steaming cup and small bag. He seemed obligated to answer a question that hadn't been asked.

"I've been working the carnie," he said politely.
But I knew the carnival season was long over. His clothes bore the telltale signs of sleeping on the ground. He shivered in his thin jacket, which was little comfort against the cold. His teeth had gone the way of all teeth without proper care.

I thought of my twice-a-year cleanings and gold crowns. His rugged face exceeded his years, I thought. I was sure there were no daily handfuls of vitamins in his routine, nor routine doctor visits, or medication for common colds or flu.

As I briefly glanced into his gentle eyes, I caught a glimpse of a tender heart, even with all that life seems to have been to him. And I thought of his mother. This was some mother's son, her bouncing baby boy, who she conceived, carried and birthed. Where was she now, I wondered. Does she know what has become of her precious son? Is she alive, and does she know that he is alive, or care?

I thought of my own son, still in his youth, and his sweet, tender spirit. How could I live without him? Without knowing where he was and that he was well?

"God bless you." he said.

"Thank you!" I replied most sincerely. "May the Lord bless You, too!"

He headed for shelter from the drizzle under the eave of a not-yet-opened store and disappeared from my rear-view mirror. I wished I'd bought a whole bag of sandwiches.

How does this happen to a human being, that he looks for breakfast in a dumpster? Was he not able to finish school? Did he run away from home at a young age? Was he or did he feel abandoned? Did he abuse drugs and alcohol? Who's to know? I cried all the way to work.

I now have a special envelope stuck between the car seats where I keep a small supply of gift certificates to McDonalds, Burger King and a restaurant and grocery. And when I'm driving, I keep an eye out for someone who looks like he might need a meal. It doesn't cost much or take much effort, and I no longer have to look the other way as I pass by.

I think of him now and then and remember to pray that the Father of all would touch his life. I wish he could know how he touched mine and changed me forever.

By Jill Burnett