Understanding

I think each of us could come up with a list of things that we don't like to see happen in life. I'm confident that all of us would include things like genocide and slavery on that list, but at even deeper level there are more subtle things we can't stand. I've been thinking about this a lot lately. One of the things that tugs at my heart the most is when I see people I know, good people, suffer through the things that I have either dealt with or am currently battling through. I guess you could say I have a superman complex. I often wish that they didn't have to deal with that stuff because I know it sucks. It's stuff that only bad people should have to deal with. I wish I could take it away and be the only one to ever have to deal with it. My heart breaks to see good, righteous, and unselfish people hurt. But I know I'm not called to be anyone's savior. In fact all of us already have one, whether we know it or not. I'm called to do what I actually can do, and that's to be there when the going gets tough, when things turn south, and when signs of hope are few and far between. God gave me the gift of understanding for these people. Understanding doesn't come easy; lots of tough experiences preceded it and I still don't fully understand why life works in the way that it does. Yet it has a tremendous amount of power to bring some comfort and hope in the lives of others. So if you are reading this and you are hurting, there's a pretty good chance I know how it feels. I've been there and I'm praying for you... whoever you may be.

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Cool Shirts from Non-Profits

I'd encourage you to buy a shirt from one of these organizations if you like what you see. They are all so awesome.

via Blood:Water Mission

via ComeandLive!

via Don't Waste Your Life

via Project: AK-47

via WeAreOneHeart

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Clipped

Just hatched and hardly a feather on his body. He had trouble opening its eyes at first; the sun was so bright. Finally the new born bird looked up and saw its mother looking back down in love and curiosity. It was spring and the air was warm and smelled sweet. Mother frantically flew in and out of the nest making certain her baby was fed and safe. The little bird must get stronger, for she would only have him for so long.

The weeks passed and the baby bird grew stronger, sang louder. Nearly full fledged the young bird was ready to fly. It was time to leave the nest, find food, a new home, and a new life. He fluttered up to the edge of the nest, feet grasping the top sticks and straws. He took aim. Now or never. It was time to fly. He had seen his mother do it, other birds too. It was his turn.

He looked so beautiful, so ready, as he flapped his wings, and began to glide out of the nest and to the ground. Truly he was made for this. He reached the ground safely, then took off again. He landed and took off, flying higher and higher every time. He felt free, excited that he had a wonderful life ahead of him. He came back down again, but this time something happened. Something terrible indeed. He felt pinned and then all went dark.

He woke with pain surging through his wings. "What happened?", he wondered. As he regained his bearings he realized he was outside once again. He felt the warm air, it smelled so sweet. He lifted up his wings ready to fly once again. He lifted up, the pain grew more intense, and he fell back to the ground. Again and again he tried and tried, but his wings simply did not work. They had clipped his wings. He didn't know who, but it didn't matter. His joy had left him. They never wanted him to have any. They never wanted him to fly high, soar in the sunlight among the clouds. They hated him. They hated his song, his beauty, his spirit. Condemned to the ground forever, he needed a miracle.

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