So what do you do when you’re caught in a situation like this?

Fret, whine, moan and groan? Threaten to sue the airline?

Sure, they give us a pass that offers free food but truth is we hate the inconvenience.

You may find this hard to believe but I have conditioned my mind to thank God for the inconvenience and simply trust in His plans. Listen to the story told by T. W. Wilson.

One day many years ago I was in Atlanta, Georgia, trying to catch a plane to Charlotte, North Carolina, so that I could visit my father and mother.   I got my ticket at the last minute, and I was seated on the plane when all of a sudden the flight director spoke: “Mr. Wilson, please.”  I raised my hand. “You’ll have to deplane,” he said, “because another man had bought his ticket before you, but he was late getting to the terminal.”

I must confess that I complained.  “What kind of a business are you running?”  I asked. They took my baggage off the plane.

The next flight was several hours later, so instead of waiting, I took a taxi to the bus depot in Atlanta.  A bus was ready to leave, and I was told to board and then purchase my ticket when we arrived at the next stop.  When we reached that stop, I phoned my father to tell him that I was taking a bus instead of a plane.

He answered the phone, asking, “Who is this?”

I said, “It’s T. W.”

“Oh, son.  Oh, son . . .” he said repeatedly.  It really didn’t make sense to me.

Finally he said, “Son the plane that you told me you would be on crashed, and all 23 people were killed.”  I was stunned.  It dawned on me that God had spared my life and that he had some more work for me to do!

Suppose God had worked things out in the way that I had wanted – I would be dead and not able to minister today.  This is why I chose Romans 8:28 to be my life’s verse: “We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His purpose” (KJV).[1] Well, it looks like Mr. Wilson really knows what he’s talking about. Considering his dramatic experience.

Now here’s the problem. Most of us do not have dramatic experiences like Mr. Wilson in our story and when inconveniences come into our lives, we complain.

But what we fail to realize is that every single inconvenience that has happened in our lives, when we allow our 20-20 hindsight vision see it with an open heart, we would realize that God has used them to build us up to become stronger in the process. We begin to realize that our prayers were not answered and what a relief they were not.

Trusting God gives us inner peace. Relinquishing control and allow His hand of divine providence to rule our lives make us enjoy the gift of life that God has given.

Mary Beth says these are the symptoms of Inner Peace

1. A tendency to think and act spontaneously, rather than on fears based on past experiences.
2. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
3. A loss of interest in judging other people.
4. A loss of interest in judging self.
5. A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
6. A loss of the ability to worry.
7. Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
8. Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
9. Frequent attacks of smiling.
10. An increasing tendency to let things happen. And finally:
11. An increased susceptibility to love, and to freely receive the love extended by others, as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend  it.

So trust god. When something you want to happen don’t and something you want to do you can’t. Say a word of prayer and give thanks. Trust God for He knows what’s best for us.

By the way, when you’re in business like me, you get to sign a lot of contracts. And contracts always refer to disasters, calamities and negative events and happenings as “acts of God.”

Listen. God’s acts are for good and not for evil. So stop complaining and start trusting. Always remember that there are only 2 certainties in life. No. They are not death and taxes. The 2 certainties in life are these:

1. That there is a God and
2. You’re not Him.

So put your trust in Him

[1] By T. W. Wilson, DECISION, November 1998

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Well, you Know You’re a Mother When….

1. You count the sprinkles on each kid’s cupcake to make sure they’re equal.
2. You have the time to shave only one leg at a time.
3. You hide in the bathroom to be alone.
4. Your kid throws up and you catch it.
5. Some one else’s kid throws up at a party. You keep eating.
6. You consider finger paints to be a controlled substance.
7. You’ve mastered the art of placing large quantities of pancakes and eggs on a plate without anything touching.
8. Your child insists that you read “Once Upon a Potty” out loud in the lobby of Grand Central Station and you do it.
9. You cling to the high moral ground on toy weapons, your child chews his toast into the shape of a gun.
10. You hope ketchup is a vegetable, since it’s the only way your child eats.
11. You can’t bear the thought of your son’s first girlfriend.
12. You hate the thought of his wife even more.
13. You find yourself cutting your husbands’ sandwiches into cute shapes.
14. You can’t bear to give away baby clothes – it’s so final.
15. You hear your mother’s voice coming out of your mouth when you say,  “NOT in your good clothes!”
16. You stop criticizing the way your mother raised you.
17. You donate to charities in the hope that your child won’t get that disease.
18. You hire a sitter because you haven’t been out with your husband in ages, then spend half the night checking on the kids.
19. You use your own saliva to clean your child’s face.
20. You say at least once a day, “I’m not cut out for this job”, but you know you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Motherhood. And this is why having one day a year paying tribute to mothers may be a noteworthy thing to do but it is my belief and conviction that mothers deserve more credit than that.

First, let me tell you how Mother’s Day got started,

The earliest Mother’s Day celebrations can be traced back to the spring celebrations of ancient Greece in honor of Rhea, the Mother of the Gods. During the 1600′s, England celebrated a day called “Mothering Sunday”. Celebrated on the 4th Sunday of Lent (the 40 day period leading up to Easter*), “Mothering Sunday”honored the mothers of England.

During this time many of the England’s poor worked as servants for the wealthy. As most jobs were located far from their homes, the servants would live at the houses of their employers. On Mothering Sunday the servants would have the day off and were encouraged to return home and spend the day with their mothers. A special cake, called the mothering cake, was often brought along to provide a festive touch. As Christianity spread throughout Europe the celebration changed to honor the “Mother Church” - the spiritual power that gave them life and protected them from harm. Over time the church festival blended with the Mothering Sunday celebration . People began honoring their mothers as well as the church.

In the United States Mother’s Day was first suggested in 1872 by Julia Ward Howe (who wrote the words to the Battle hymn of the Republic) as a day dedicated to peace. Ms. Howe would hold organized Mother’s Day meetings in Boston, Mass ever year. In 1907 Ana Jarvis, from Philadelphia, began a campaign to establish a national Mother’s Day. Ms. Jarvis persuaded her mother’s church in Grafton, West Virginia to celebrate Mother’s Day on the second anniversary of her mother’s death, the 2nd Sunday of May. By the next year Mother’s Day was also celebrated in Philadelphia.

Ms. Jarvis and her supporters began to write to ministers, businessman, and politicians in their quest to establish a national Mother’s Day. It was successful as by 1911 Mother’s Day was celebrated in almost every state. President Woodrow Wilson, in 1914, made the official announcement proclaiming Mother’s Day as a national holiday that was to be held each year on the 2nd Sunday of May. While many countries of the world celebrate their own Mother’s Day at different times throughout the year, there are some countries such as Denmark, Finland, Italy, Turkey, Australia, and Belgium which also celebrate Mother’s Day on the second Sunday of May. And of course here in our own country, we became conscious of Mother’s Day because Department stores and shopping malls remind us always.

May I make  suggestion? That we honor the many mothers who are working as overseas Filipino workers sacrificing themselves for their families this time?

The Bible says: Honor your father and your mother and on this special occasion it would be good to also remember the gallantry, nobility and the sacrifice Filipino mothers all over the world are doing for their families.

One proverb says it best: That one mother can take care of ten children, but ten children can’t take care of one mother.  

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I studied the long chain of names wherein this material has been circulating through the Internet and the only lament I have is that there is no mention as to the author’s name and identity.

It is a true story though as claimed and the moment my friend Cynthia sent it to me, I knew this one is so important I just have to share it with you.

I have simply entitled this, “It Could Have Been You.”

Jenny was so happy about the house they had found.

For once in her life twas on the right side of town.

She unpacked her things with such great ease.

As she watched her new curtains blow in the breeze.

How wonderful it was to have her own room.

School would be starting; she’d have friends over soon.

There’d be sleep-overs, and parties; she was so happy.

It’s just the way she wanted her life to be.

On the first day of school, everything went great.

She made new friends and even got a date!

She thought, “I want to be popular and I’m going to be,

Because I just got a date with the star of the team.

To be known in this school you had to have a clout,

And dating this guy would sure help her out.

There was only one problem stopping her fate.

Her parents had said she was too young to date.

“Well I just won’t tell them the entire truth.

They won’t know the difference; what’s there to lose?”

Jenny asked to stay with her friends that night.

Her parents frowned but said, “All right.”

Excited, she got ready for the big event

But as she rushed around like she had no sense,

She began to feel guilty about all the lies,

But what’s a pizza, a party, and a moonlight ride?

Well the pizza was good, and the party was great,

But the moonlight ride would have to wait.

For Jeff was half drunk by this time.

But he kissed her and said that he was just fine.

Then the room filled with smoke and Jeff took a puff.

Jenny couldn’t believe he was smoking that stuff.

Now Jeff was ready to ride to the point

But only after he’d smoked another joint.

They jumped in the car for the moonlight ride,

Not thinking that he was too drunk to drive.

They finally made it to the point at last,

And Jeff started trying to make a pass.

A pass is not what Jenny wanted at all

(and by a pass, I don’t mean playing Football.)

“Perhaps my parents were right…maybe I am too young.

Boy, how could I ever, ever be so dumb.”

With all of her might, she pushed Jeff to stay away:

“Please take me home, I don’t want to stay.”

Jeff cranked up the engine and floored the gas.

As Jeff drove on in a fit of wild anger,

Jenny knew that her life was in danger.

She begged and pleaded for him to slow down,

But he just got faster as they neared the town.

“Just let me get home!  I’ll confess that I lied.

I really went out for a moonlight ride.”

Then all of a sudden she saw a big flash,

“Oh God, Please help us!  We’re going to crash!”

She doesn’t remember the force of impact.

Just that everything all of a sudden went black.

She felt someone remove her from the twisted rubble,

And heard, “call an ambulance! These kids are in trouble!

Voices she heard…a few words at best.

But she knew there were two cars involved in the wreck.

Then wondered to herself if Jeff was all right,

And if the people in the other car were alive.

She awoke in the hospital to faces so sad.

“You’ve been in a wreck and it looks pretty bad.

These voices echoed inside her head,

As they gently told her that Jeff was dead.

They said “Jenny, we’ve done all we can do.

But it looks as if we’ll lose you too.”

“But the people in the other car?” Jenny cried.

“We’re sorry, Jenny, they also died.”

Jenny prayed, “God, forgive me for what I’ve done

I only wanted to have just one night of fun.”

“Tell those people’s family, I’ve made their lives dim,

And wish I could return their families to them.”

“Tell Mom and Dad I’m sorry I lied,

And that it’s my fault so many have died.

Oh, nurse, won’t you please tell them that for me?”

The nurse just stood there-she never agreed.

But took Jenny’s hand with tears in her eyes.

And a few moments later Jenny died.

A man asked the nurse, “Why didn’t  you do your best

To bid that girl her one last request?”

She looked at the man with eyes so sad.

“Because the people in the other car were her mom and dad.”

This story is sad and unpleasant but true,

So young people take heed, it could have been you.

I don’t think I should say more.

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I did a little research. Mel Gibson in his movie “The Passion of the Christ” made it a little easier to grasp the situation. The cross today adorn many a man and woman’s necks as a nice piece of jewelry and what many people fail to understand is the fact that during the early days the cross symbolized a curse and it was not something to be proud of.

The cross consisted of a perpendicular stake with a crossbeam either at the top of the stake of shortly below the top. The height of the stake was usually little more than the height of a man. A block or a pin was sometimes driven into the stake to serve as a seat for the condemned person, giving partial support to his body. Sometimes also a step for the feet was fixed to the stake.

Victims of crucifixion did not usually die for 2 or 3 days. But this was determined by the presence or absence of the seat and the footrest, for a person suspended by his hands lost blood pressure quickly, and the pulse rate was increased. Usually the victim had been severely scourged before crucifixion took place. Total collapse through insufficient blood circulation to the brain and the heart would follow shortly. If the victim could ease his body by supporting himself with the seat and footrest, the blood could be returned to some degree of circulation in the upper part of his body. To fix the hands to the cross beam either cords or nails and cords were used; sometimes the feet were nailed also. When it was desired to bring the torture to an end, the victim’s legs were broken below the knees with a club. It was then no longer possible for him to ease his weight, and the loss of blood circulation was accentuated. Coronary insufficiency followed shortly. The victim’s offense was usually published by a crier who preceded him to the place of execution. Sometimes it was written on a tablet, which was carried by the condemned man himself. The cross in the olden days was a symbol of a curse. Today many a man and woman use it to adorn their necks. This is the image of Friday.

But Sunday brings us to a different message.

As a young man, Chicago based minister D.L. Moody was called upon suddenly to preach a funeral sermon. He hunted all throughout the four Gospels trying to find one of Christ’s funeral sermons, but searched in vain. He found that Christ broke up every funeral he ever attended. Death could not exist where he was. When the dead heard his voice they sprang to life. Jesus said, “I am the resurrection, and the life.”

And here is another story.

Margaret Sangster Phippen wrote that in the mid 1950s her father, British minister W. E. Sangster, began to notice some uneasiness in his throat and a dragging in his leg. When he went to the doctor, he found that he had an incurable disease that caused progressive muscular atrophy. His muscles would gradually waste away, his voice would fail, his throat would soon become unable to swallow.

Sangster threw himself into his work in British home missions, figuring he could still write and he would have even more time for prayer. “Let me stay in the struggle Lord,” he pleaded. “I don’t mind if I can no longer be a general, but give me just a regiment to lead.” He wrote articles and books, and helped organize prayer cells throughout England. “I’m only in the kindergarten of suffering,” he told people who pitied him.

Gradually Sangster’s legs became useless. His voice went completely. But he could still hold a pen, shakily. On Easter morning, just a few weeks before he died, he wrote a letter to his daughter. In it, he said, “It is terrible to wake up on Easter morning and have no voice to shout, ‘He is risen!’–but it would be still more terrible to have a voice and not want to shout.”

Don’t shout: “It’s back to work again on Tuesday!”

It’s great to shout: “Christ is Risen!”

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What has replaced morality today is the new or maybe not-so-new term called political correctness.

I was attended a session in a business conference. The famous book author who was speaking opened the session with a claim, “I am a Buddhist.” I do not understand the relevance of that statement to his topic presentation but I gave him the benefit of the doubt.

In another session Ken Blanchard, famous author, trainer and speaker had to exert a lot of efforts in explaining why he is of the “Faith” and that he does not intend to use his Christianity to convert anyone.

And then the thought hit me.

One famous author and speaker can be proud in declaring that he is a Buddhist. But Ken Blanchard has to qualify to acknowledge that he is a Christian. This is what happens when we have lost the point of moral reference.

Maybe you are thinking that the issue is about religion? Not exactly. Please allow me to qualify. America has been built by the Bible. This is why there is a huge area of American Land today that is still called the Bible Belt area. But isn’t it a wonder that today public prayer is already prohibited and the 10 Commandments have been removed from Court Houses and there are attempts to remove the words, “In God We Trust” from the Dollar Bill?

I was in my hotel dressing up preparing myself for the training session. There was an interview happening in an American TV program. The wife secretly poses herself in the nude and does Web Sex without the knowledge of her husband. During the interview the husband was obviously surprised.

When asked why she is doing this, “She said I love to do this and I also get to make a few bucks in between.”

Husband asked; “Is there any physical contact with any man?”

The wife shook her head and said, “Absolutely not.”

Husband says, “Who am I to stand in between my wife and what makes her happy?”

And the audience broke up in “aaaahhhh!” And applauded the husband. Why in the eyes of the audience the husband is a hero. He is understanding and he shows his love for his wife in spite of the fact that she does porno acts in front of a web cam.

(Here is a Question I would like to ask. Would you and I applaud our children or daughters for doing the same thing? Just to do things that make them happy?)

America has lost it.

There is absolutely no point of reference that porno is wrong.

What is all this about? Is everything all about being happy?

Some people I know do stupid things and they are happy too….

But why is porno wrong?

Now the question becomes hard to answer is it not?

But when you have a moral reference then the answer becomes pretty obvious.

“Because you and I are image bearers of God. A body given to us as His Temple.”

And so we take care of it because we value it. It’s not some cheap device you show off to everyone and earn money from it.

What makes this different now from selling one’s body for physical pleasure? Not much difference right?

Let The Scriptures serve as the main point of reference and let it’s Author be the Final Authority for indeed He is. Then we do not experience happiness, which is so shallow and is so dependent on happenings. We experience true joy that can only come from Him.

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Information is no longer power; power lies in the ability to attain and maintain attention. I am not an alarmist but what I want people to know is that the pace of life will continue to increase and we need to learn how to be quiet.
This is why my first hour of the day is spent on quiet time. Prayer and meditation of Scripture to bring sanity to my being.
Busyness may not be a good thing when it is done in excess.
Learn to be quiet. Learn to spend time in solitude as I certainly will this coming holiday season.
So don’t just do something, stand there or better still, sit down and be quiet.

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